by Elise Whyles
Gawain reared back. Long, bloody gouges ran across his face, his lip split to the bone as he swung hard, sending the stranger flying into a tree. His back had no more than hit the trunk, sending it careening to the ground, before he was flying at Gawain, fangs dripping, nails gleaming in the moonlight.
“Gods above, we have to help him.” Bede turned to her sister, her body already leaning, preparing to dismount.
Her heart raced, her attention focused on Gawain. His massive frame absorbed the blows from his enemy. Round after round fell, pushing him back, before he struck out. With each passing heartbeat, his stance changed, becoming harder, more predatory, blood frothing at his lips.
She cringed with each thud of bone meeting flesh. The grunts of pain were swallowed by the growls of rage. Blood splattered the leaves, glittering in the light of the moon. Masculine voices spewed forth their rage, their disgust, in a language she didn’t understand, yet the violence of their hatred flowed like water.
“You cannot help him.” Una’s dead tone sent a shard of fear up Bede’s spine.
“Why not?” Bede whirled to stare at her sister, her jaw slack.
“You are not meant to.” Una met her eyes. “This stops here, now. We both know it. You have but to listen to your heart to know this. My place is not here, it never was.”
“Una, you speak in such riddles and nonsense. Of course your place…” Bede froze at the eerie snarl which erupted from before the horses. Gawain lay on the hard ground, his chest split wide open, blood streaming down his sides. The flash of his white skin stark in the darkness. Legs braced, his sword in his hands, the stranger stared at her for a moment before burying the heavy blade into Gawain’s body.
“No!” Bede screamed, all but falling from the horse, the need to get to Gawain stronger than her fear. Stronger than her concern even for her sister who picked up Gawain’s wrap, draped it over her shoulders, and stepped closer. Scrambling across the ground, Bede tripped, crawling the last few feet separating them. Her knees felt each prickle of stone, each scratch of a twig, but she ignored the discomfort.
“You wretch! Look what you’ve done,” Bede sobbed, holding Gawain’s head. Her throat burned, the scalding of tears on her face colder than ice in winter. Bede’s hand shot out to grab Una as she stepped past her. “You won’t take her—”
“Bede.” Una knelt, her young eyes filled with wisdom far beyond her summers. “This must be. You’ll not be alone, and you’re safe. Darkness can only claim what is already weakened by it. His soul is untouched—and needs yours. In him I see your future, see your world. You will give to him something more, something he needs. I can see the power flowing between you, the warmth which will keep you safe.” Una pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and rose to step over Gawain’s still body. “I’m ready.”
“No!” Bede’s agonized scream echoed in the stillness of the night as Una and the stranger vanished into thin air, leaving her alone with a warrior who even now fought for his life. Bowing her head, Bede sobbed uncontrollably.
* * * *
“Tell me, why do you weep?”
Bede sat up, her eyes scanning the darkness at the faint voice that traced over her. From the shadows, dressed in flowing robes, a woman stepped out. A veil covered her head, but did little to hide the light that glinted off the jewels around her throat and wrists.
“Who are you?” Bede demanded, her fingers knotting in Gawain’s tunic. “Stay away.”
“Or you’ll what? Drink me to death?” She laughed. “’Tis been tried before, Bede of the woods, by ones more powerful than you. Indeed, it is what brought me to this point.”
“What do you want? We’ve no coin for you to take. I’ve nothing save what you see.” Bede reached for the dagger in Gawain’s belt. It would prove some defense…
“I believe this would be better.” The woman grasped the sword hilt and pulled it from Gawain’s body. He groaned in response, his fingers already twitching. “He’ll wake soon, hungry, the need to feed strong after losing so much blood.”
“He won’t harm me.” Confidence, certainty boiled within her at the very notion. No, Gawain would do her no harm. “You, on the other hand…”
Heaving a breath, the woman smiled and knelt beside her. “Come, Bede, truly you do not know the full meaning of what this night has come to. Fear not for Una, she is safe, and she will make her way back to you in time. For now, you must learn to rely on Gawain. A warrior without equal, a man prepared to die for you. One, who, if you trust within both his and your own heart, will return to you something stolen from you long, long ago.”
Bede gnashed her teeth together at the haughty air. Her eyes narrowed when the strange woman ran her fingers through his hair. Slapping her hand away, Bede leaned over him, his chest rising slowly beneath her.
“Don’t touch—”
“I have no interest in your little vampire. I have more important matters to attend.” She brushed an invisible bit of dust off her robe. “Saltar is stirring, his bonds weakened by the meddling of another with her own purpose. There is only one way to keep him locked away, and that is to gather those with the power together and unite them under a common task. Take heed, Bede, it is within the arms of the man before you that you will find the answers. He will give to you that which was removed. It is time, time for my followers to return to their roots. For those who are pure of heart to rise above Saltar’s treachery and rejoin their kind. Take care, Bede, these are dangerous times.”
Turning the woman strode into the trees and vanished.
“I promise you, no harm shall befall young Una. She is of my blood, same as you, and will be safe.” The soft promise danced through Bede’s mind, leaving her more than a little confused. Exhaustion settled like a heavy weight about her, pulling her deeper and deeper into darkness.
* * * *
The echo of battle drifted on the warm wind as Bede stood at the open door of a tent, her long sheer skirt fluttering like wings around her legs. Pushing the curtain back, she stared at the expanse of ground before her with a practical eye. Men and beasts cluttered the battlefield. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. Moans of agony mingled with the clash of steel.
Her eyes focused on one warrior, his massive chest glistening in the moonlight. His sword slid into the scabbard, his attention on his men as they gathered. She knew they’d feed on those wounded, those whose hearts still beat with a steady if weak pulse.
“Impressive, isn’t he?” Behind her, a lone woman lounged on the dais, her pale skin flickering gold in the light of the flames from the torches.
“Do you have nothing to do but disturb the victors?”
“Nay, I wish to keep track of my warriors. He’s well earned his reward.”
“I think you need to concern yourself with those who are more inclined—”
“Come, Bede, you fool yourself if you think that I would want to concern myself with anything beyond the delight of having one so valiant on the field of battle rewarded with a beautiful mate. Bid me reward him and I shall give you him. A daughter of the Ker-etsa is deserving of such a man.”
“Be gone, goddess. You bother me.” She turned away, her attention focusing on the man striding from the field. ’Twas true, he deserved one worthy of him. Her fangs sharpened, ached to sink into his glistening flesh.
“It is as you desire,” Amuliana whispered into her ear a moment before she vanished.
Bede swallowed, her body on fire as he tossed aside his sword, his glowing eyes locked on hers. Heat pooled, settling between her legs in a sudden flood. Heavy throbbing in her breasts echoed in the pulsing blood beneath flesh.
“A woman worthy,” he growled, grabbing her hair to pull her against his body. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as he ground his growing erection against her. “I could smell the sweet scent of your blood in battle, taste the nectar between your lips on my tongue. You were made for me.”
“As you were for me,” she purred. “Warrior, prince, servant t
o our queen. Are you hot for me? Want me with the same need I feel for you?” Tracing her lips with her tongue she toyed with his nipple, her nails dragging over hard muscles. Her nostrils flared at the scent of sex and blood, the urge to devour, to stalk and claim powerful. Dipping her head, she licked along his collar bone, her sharp teeth scratching at his flesh.
“Indeed,” he said, jerking her head back. She screamed in pleasure as he sank his fangs into her neck. The sensation of suckling at her throat reached deep into her core, and waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. It settled into a rhythmic pounding between her legs, her clit pulsing with each draw on her neck.
She arched against him, flames licking at the hard press of his erection against her stomach. Pulling back, she licked her lips before rising to her toes, her tongue tracing over his lips, lapping at the blood there. A moan of desire escaped as he opened his mouth, his tongue darting out to tangle with hers. Sweet, the succulent taste of blood hung rich and thick on her tongue.
Voracious, his tongue swept into her mouth. Dueling with hers, low growls from both lovers vibrated through her breasts, reaching deep into her soul to stoke the fires of lust. His fingers bit into her ass, and he lifted her slightly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he thrust against her hot, wet core.
“Hot, tight,” he groaned, his lips pressed against her throat. “Sweeter than honey, aren’t you?”
“Milord.” She dropped her head back, her hair brushing the ground. “You’re merciless, ’tis cruel to tease me thus.”
“You’ve yet to see anything.” He strode through the tent flaps to drop her atop his bed, his weight pressing her deeper into the furs.
* * * *
Gawain gasped, pain lancing through his chest even as the niggling arousal flooded his body. He groaned at the sudden hardening between his legs. Inhaling, his head turned sharply. Bede lay curled against him, tears drying on her pale cheeks. Her hands clenched around his shoulders. Yet he sensed no pain, no injury. Rather the rising scent of her essence tickled his senses, teased his nostrils. He reached down, palming his shaft. It jumped beneath his touch. Eight hundred and twenty years he’d longed for, dreamed of a mate—even as he pushed his need, his longing aside. Now, he was faced with a mate before him, ripe, sweet… and there was nothing stopping him from taking her.
“Bloody hell,” he ground out, rolling away, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Fangs dripping with hunger, he hovered over her, his gaze fixed on the pulse in her throat. “No, it will not be me.” With a furious roar he turned away, his body wracked with need, aching.
“Wha… Milord?” Bede’s soft whisper stroked along his shaft, stirring the boundaries of his control.
Without a word, he inhaled, his fist tightening on the dagger at his hip before he teleported—it was best to feed one hunger when he couldn’t feed the other.
Chapter 4
“Well? Did you find where my sister has been taken?” Bede demanded as Gawain appeared before her. Demanding her sister seemed safer than asking for an explanation on why he’d abandoned her. Rising to her feet, she dusted her palms on her skirt, her gaze steady. “Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not? I’ll not leave my defenseless sister to the mercy of some monster because you’re off doing…” Rage spewed like lava as she gaped at him.
“Anagor will not harm her,” he ground out, the muscle in his jaw jumping.
“How can you be so certain? Did you even try…” Bede gasped, his hand suddenly tightening around her neck. Desperate, she reached up, clinging to his wrists even as common sense told her he would do nothing to harm her. She stared into his darkened gaze, the anger, the hunger, the lust bare for her to see.
Shuddering, she could feel the heat build in her body. A faint voice wondered if she was having a vision, but she denied such a possibility. There was no way this was one—they were standing in a cool, damp forest, his clothes shredded by a blade, his chest bare beneath, dried blood streaking the pale flesh.
“Woman, you’d try the patience of an angel, and I am hardly one. It is impossible to track a trace, especially when he is cursed with the ability to walk in the sun. Now, I will find the babe. To do so means I must find one with the gift of sight. Keep your tongue behind your teeth and do not—”
“I will not rest until my sister is safe.” Bede smacked his arm. “Not even the likes of you will keep me from seeking—”
“Gods above, you foolish girl. She will be safe with Anagor. He does not feed, he doesn’t breed, and in fact he is walking dead.” Gawain’s hot breath whispered over her flesh. She swallowed when he leaned closer to her. “’Tis you in more danger than she. You would do well to recall that fact.”
She held her breath as his fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back, his eyes tracing the column of her throat.
“I do not fear you.” Bede winced at the crack in her voice. Her heart thundered in her ears, echoing the pulse of desire racing along her body. His hot breath danced over her face, and the bristles of his whiskers rasped over her chin. She licked her dry lips, her eyes closing at the coppery tang lingering on his lips.
“Mayhap you should.”
Her lips parted with each word, her breathing coming in shallow pants. “Perhaps, milord, it should be you who fears me?”
Gawain’s rough chuckle shook his body, the motion forcing him to rub against her hardened nipples. “What’s the little mortal going to do? Stab me?” He pulled her head back a little further. “You’ve tried that, remember?”
Bede willed the tremble in her body away, her nails digging into his skin. “Indeed, and had I realized how much it would pain me to miss, I’d have gone…” She gasped, the breath knocked from her when he pushed her against a tree.
“Bossy, irritating, you’ve tread upon my nerve from the moment I’ve met you. Were you anyone else I’d slit your throat and leave you to rot, wench.”
A low chuckle escaped from her lips. His eyes darkened, narrowing, the intent in them clear even to her inexperienced mind. Her breath caught, trapped in her chest with each slow move he made toward her. Licking her lips, she moaned softly at the flare of desire before his mouth crashed into hers, his tongue darting out to trace her lips.
The faint, coppery taste of blood washed over her tongue, along with the heady taste of male. Masterful, his tongue forced its way past her lips, his thumb pulling her chin down so he could breach her defenses. Hot, slick, his tongue dueled with hers. It swept to every corner, intent on conquering each inch of her mouth. She moaned, her body aflame, and he drew back for a moment. Desire mixed with confusion as wave after wave of pleasure swept over her. A tiny cry of dismay filtered through her ragged breathing when his lips left hers. Muttered words soothed her, lips and teeth traced over her jaw, her ear, down her throat. The faint scratch of a fang only added to the heightened senses as he laved and sucked on her pulse.
Heavy, her breasts tightened into aching points when he palmed them. His touch was familiar, knowing, the very lack of hesitancy enough to prick her fear even as it turned her on. A shudder raced over her at the sensation of a single drop of liquid from a fang sliding down her throat, dipping between her breasts. Each increment of skin the liquid touched flared with desire, awakening her to the pleasures of the flesh. His harsh groan as he arched against her built on the fire between them. Hands grappled with clothing, pushing it aside, fingers seeking the bare flesh beneath.
Stumbling, Bede panted, her gaze steady on Gawain who stared back at her. The weight of his palm on the curve of her breast searing into her memory. “How…”
“No, I shan’t be so careless. Gods above, I took vows.” Gawain straightened her blouse, a noticeable tremble in his fingers. “It is best we go.”
Her eyes burning with unshed tears, she stared at him. There was no hope of moving until her legs regained their strength. Glancing away from the penetrating heat in his dark eyes, she froze, all desire fading like water from a bottomless bucket
.
Slithering across his chest, marred by blood and hair, a multi-colored serpent stared back at her. Its coils wrapped around a dagger, one like the one she carried. The hilt decorated with the flowing red of a ribbon all while engulfed by the massive body of the snake.
“Where did you get this mark?” She reached out to touch him, to trace over the snake, only to jump back when he snapped his teeth at her.
“It is the mark of my clan. My kindred.” Gawain pulled the ragged edges of his shirt closed. “Sacred to my kind.”
“A vampire with religion?” Bede shook her head, her mind a tangled mess of thoughts seeming beyond belief. “’Tis not possible. You cannot have such…”
“Cannot have what, milady? Faith or something different than the tales you’ve obviously been told. Aye, my people have been made out to be monsters who steal children from their beds, sucking them dry, all the while rutting like beasts on any female in sight. ’Tis not me.”
“Nay.” Bede shook her head, her stomach twisting. Memories stirred, the image of her mother’s naked back flickering gold in the firelight. Her mother’s eyes glowing with emotion, with rage, the fire slowly ebbing from them with each passing day. “The dagger, why do you have such a mark upon your flesh? It is like my mother’s…”
Gawain paled, his eyes widening as he stepped back. He traced the tattoo marring his body, his eyes growing vacant before he shook his head, a mask settling in place. “The nearest sorceress is seven nights north of here. Come, we’d best go.”
Bede watched him slip into the shadows, confusion settling like a weight about her shoulders. Who was he? What was he doing here? He’d saved her life, and risked his own to save Una—but at what cost? There had to be an explanation for why this warrior would do so much. And why would such as he bear the image of a weapon her mother had passed down to her?