Forsaken Heart

by Elise Whyles

  “What of the mortal?” A voice rose above the murmurs. “Who will guard her?”

  “Guard me?” Pulling her dagger free, Bede pointed it at the upstart. “Guard yourself. I have not survived Roman legionnaires, slavers, and your kind to need you to hold my hand.”

  “She is no mortal.” Bruja waved aside the warrior’s concerns. “My warrioress will fight with you this day, Bede. Death will come for some of us, but we must do all we can.”

  “My wife is correct. We are at war—let us focus on battle, not on one’s weakness,” Hema commanded. “Dorstan, you’ll protect the left flank. Take two of your captains and set up a parameter. Selordan, take a legion and escort the women and children to safety. Send them into the caverns beneath Mount Transulvia, they will be safe there. Leave enough men to guard them securely.”

  “As you wish, my king.” Selordan bowed low before striding from the room, his men following without questions.

  “King! They’ve breached the western wall. They’ll be upon us in seconds.”

  The tormented screech of a wounded soldier sent a wave of fear through the room. Bede stared at the young vampire as he fell over, a battle axe sticking from his back. Every ounce of her nerve quivered. Was she strong enough for this?

  “They’ve arrived!” The warning came seconds before the first wave teleported into the room. Steel clashed with a mighty roar filling the room as men and women rushed to the fray.

  Whirling, Bede ducked the blow of a pale eyed vampire, his blackened fangs dripping. Lunging forward, she sunk her dagger deep into his flesh, twisting it before jumping back.

  Slashing, cutting, Bede hurried through the mangled bodies in the room. Hot, pulsing blood splattered across her face. Anguished screams ripped through her ears, shredding any innocence left. Terrified, she stared into the disfigured face of a vampire man. He was missing a couple of teeth, his eyes dark, void of anything beyond hate and rage. The flickering of the torches lit the bloody sword as he lifted it above his head.

  Without thought, Bede grabbed his throat, her hand burning. Searing agony washed up her arm a moment before he started to scream. Blue flames licked up his body, his flesh began to boil and blister. Dropping the weapon, he reached for her wrist, his eyes begging, pleading for an end.

  “Death comes to those who are deserving.” Bede dropped him, spinning her armor and deflecting the blow from a sword.

  Screaming in pain, Bede grappled with the warrior pulling her hair back, exposing her throat. She could see his fangs sharpening, the hollowness of them as he leaned in. Sinking her dagger deep into his neck, she used the force of a kick to pull it from his flesh. Stumbling back, she whirled, her dagger poised, to nod at Ashalia who tossed a sword her way.

  Catching it, Bede snarled at the warriors pressing in on her. With a battle cry on her lips, she charged, sword swinging, slicing through flesh and bone. Blinking to clear her eyes of the scalding blood that splattered her, Bede rallied what little strength she had. Ducking, she slid the blade between the ribs of one warrior drinking of the king’s guards. The young vampire girl slid to the floor. Bede stared at the blood oozing from the woman’s neck wound through two narrow holes.

  Bede whirled around, her eyes widening at the massive fist that swung toward her. A startled scream echoed through her head at the agony blossoming on her face. The blow lifted her from her feet, sending her careening across the room to slam into the wall. Sliding down it she felt a bolt of pure emotion race through her, Gawain stood before her, his eyes locked on hers before darkness claimed her.

  Chapter 16

  Gawain snarled as he sped toward Bede’s crumpled form. Loosening the armor that covered her torso, he cupped her face. The warm stickiness on his fingers drew his rage like poison from a wound. Pulling his fingers back, he stared at her blood streaking them.

  “Bede, beloved?” Leaning forward, he shifted her, untangling her until she was laying flat. “Selene, be merciful.” He pushed her hair back from her face before standing.

  His hand swung out, wrapping around the throat of a vampire male who’d rushed at them. He turned his head, his eyes meeting the warrior with a scarred, black bird on his chest. Inhaling, he caught the stench of fear, the bloodlust on his enemy, and curled his lip up. Fangs dripping with malice, he pulled the warrior to him, his claws shredding flesh like silk. Dropping his opponent, he moved through the crowd, tossing allies out of his way, his red vision locked on the enemy. His roar of grief and fury rose above the clash of weapons.

  “Wretched bag of bones.” Gawain embraced his rage, his desire to kill, throwing yet another man across the room. He withdrew his sword as the vampire crashed through the throne and landed in a broken, bloody heap on the floor.

  Swinging his blade, he sliced through two, tromping over them as he made for the scent clinging to his nose. The one who had struck her would die, would burn in the sun and beg for mercy before he gave him what he craved.

  He ignored the soldier who sailed past him, his claws ripping and tearing through flesh. Fangs sharpened by anger ripped at the necks of those fool enough to try to stop him. Each blow, each strike from an opponent only enflamed his need to slaughter. Gawain braced his feet, his body primed as three of them raced at him, their curved swords raised high, their eyes narrowed in fury and disgust. Whirling, his left foot swung up, kicking the legs out from under one man. As he fell, Gawain swung his sword up, slicing his head from his shoulders. The others barely paid their companion a thought, striking at him with claws and fangs, their weapons lost in the melee.

  Grabbing the one on the left, he wrapped his hands around his head, snapping the neck as easily as twig. Before he could regenerate, Gawain sliced his throat, dropping him to the floor. The third grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, baring his teeth to drink only to scream in agony as Gawain drove a slim, bejeweled dagger into his throat. He jerked back, shedding his coat, his weapons, every ounce the warrior.

  * * * *

  Bede groaned, her head hurt. She lifted her hand only to freeze at the sensation of someone dragging her. Forcing her eyes open, she stared up into the face of Selordan who eyed her with an unreadable expression. Tensing, she reached for the dagger she carried.

  “Be this what you seek?” He held it out to her, hilt first.

  “Thank you.” Bede took it, clutching it to her chest. Struggling into a sitting position, she glanced around. Two massive columns protected the chamber, beyond it though she could see the battle. The floor ran with rivers of blood. Men and women lay in tangled heaps, moans and screams of agony and pain clashing with the sound of swords, of axes and maces colliding.

  Her eyes connected with a figure on the battlefield. His back bare, bloody, she could see the scales of the snake wrapping around his torso. The lines of its body coiling around him as he warred with three vampires, his fury displayed to all. Several of them had fled from his reach.

  “Gawain, I must…” She winced as she struggled to her feet.

  “You must rest.” Selordan put a hand on her shoulder. “Daughter of the Moon.”

  Bede turned to face him. “What did you call me?”

  “Daughter of the Moon,” Selordan replied. “Your ancestry is descended from Selene, goddess of life. Favored, if you will.”

  “I am hardly…” Bede pushed herself to her feet. “I have no time for this. My man is out there…”

  “Aye, your mate, my master. What will you do when you get out there? Kill all?”

  “Only those who dared to touch him.” Bede pushed past him, her gaze locked on Gawain’s impressive body. Power flowed through her body, seeping through each pore until she felt invincible.

  “Take care.” Selordan offered a sword. A frown marred his face when she shook her head and pushed it aside. “There are those out there with no willingness to forgive.”

  Bede laughed, a cold, cruel sound. “I’m one of them.” Stepping from the shadows she deflected the blow from a half-rotted specter hanging on despi
te the blood flowing over his face and down his throat.

  Sliding her dagger’s blade into his throat, she moved through the crowd, her attention on Gawain’s figure. Whirling at the heavy weight of a hand on her shoulder, Bede swung outward, the blade slicing through flesh. The warrior’s features contorted, swelling, burning as he screamed, clawing at his face. Those around her froze, staring in horror as he began to smoke, to burn. The stench of burning flesh filled the room as he incinerated and faded into a smoking heap of ash.

  “Bede.” Gawain’s roar drew her attention.

  Ignoring the way Hema’s warriors moved from her path, she eyed the invaders. Hissing and snapping at her, they backed away, running headlong into death as she stepped through them. Pausing next to Gawain, she turned, her fingers light on the hilt of her dagger, the weapon hanging from one hand.

  “Kill her!” The screamed order echoed above the confused melee.

  Bede gasped as Gawain’s nails dug into her hip, pressing her back tight to his. She sucked in a deep breath at the burning which started at her throat and radiated out. She grabbed him, her nails digging into his flesh as she pressed closer. Through a haze of gold, she watched the invaders advance.

  Ruthless, brutal, the bloody battle moved in on them. They crowded them onto the balcony with a single-minded determination. Swords flashing, Bede felt Gawain tense and she shook her head. No, she wouldn’t let him do whatever it was he was planning. If he ran, he’d regret it, no matter if it were to protect her.

  “You can do this, Bede. Reach inside, touch the power of the flame. Cast out the evil in this house and cleanse it.” Soft, pure, the familiar voice filled her head. “Prepare it for the return of your sister, and for the birth of your future.”

  “She’s burning!” Ashalia’s terrified voice swirled around Bede who stared past her to the amassed army. There would be no peace until they’d departed. The rolling, searing wash of heat flared, catching the invaders in burning clusters. Screams of torment and agony filled the air before they vanished in a cloud of smoke and ash.

  Looking down, Bede stared at her hands. Flames licked along the fingers, blue and gold hues dancing from her to the enemy pressing in on her from all sides. Shock ripped through her as she realized just who Ashalia had been screaming of.

  “Gods above!” Bede whimpered, her gaze flying up to meet Gawain’s. Glancing down she stared at the fading flames, her fingertips trembling.

  “Bede, my precious, precious Bede.” Gawain pulled her close, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Gods, I …”

  “Gawain! What manner of creature did you bring into our folds?” Hema’s roar shook the rafters.

  Bede tensed, her fingers tightening on her dagger, eyes locked on the king who strode through the crowd toward them. A chill crept through her blood, what would his penalty be? Would her act cost her a future with Gawain? Her trembling hand found Gawain’s, returning the gentle squeeze.

  “Well? What say you?”

  “Does it matter?” Gawain stepped forward, his bare chest glistening with sweat, dried blood cracking with each movement of his body. “She risks much to save your throne.”

  “Nay,” Hema denied, his gaze a heavy weight on Bede’s chest. “She risked it for you. Her instinct woke and she was willing to risk death itself to reach you.”

  “She is mine.”

  Bede hid her delighted smile at Gawain’s impassioned declaration, even as she stared Hema down. It wasn’t about risks but about what she was. Would the king accept her or cast her out? She couldn’t stop the shudder of dismay at the very notion until she felt the slow curl of Gawain’s hand.

  “Hema, husband. Do you risk the wrath of Selene over something so small?”

  “She is from that line, and I will not have it within—”

  “Grief makes a mockery of you.” As hard as steel a new voice rose from the shadows.

  Bede’s eyes widened as a familiar figure strode forward. Her long, dark hair was pulled back with a gold comb. Flowing robes of gold and silver covered her ample curves. Blue eyes assessed the room before landing on Bede. Overwhelmed, she bowed her head. This woman held more power than she’d ever known.

  “Goddess, you surely do not expect—”

  “I expect you to respect my wisdom, Hema. King of the Vampires. Lord of the undead, master of the night—yet mired by your own grief in a world of hatred and intolerance. It was this very sin which has cost you so greatly.”

  “Selene, she is…” Hema shifted beneath her gaze, his eyes lowering.

  “There is a tale told among mortals of soul mates. Quite charming really, one I still laugh at.” Selene smiled and held a hand out to Bede. “Told of how men and women were once made together. They shared a body, a heart, a soul. Then one day they were ripped apart, cast away from each other with the wind. Since that day, they seek to find their other half. Only their soul mate can ease the longing, the need burning so hotly beneath the surface.”

  “She is not of us.”

  “She will remain!” The ground beneath their feet trembled with the force of her displeasure. “If you wish to keep Saltar prisoner, wish to retain the freedom you have so blissfully enjoyed, you will listen to my words and heed them. Those who were forsaken will rise into the ranks. Among them, there are key holders, men and women with gifts. To cast them out is to risk his rising.”

  “If he rises, he will kill everyone.” Bede stepped forward. “I had a dream of the carnage his rebirth would bring.”

  “Aye.” Selene nodded. “You did not know at the time what it would mean. Hema will bristle and growl, but he will accept you.”

  Bede glanced at Hema who glowered at her. She shivered at the controlled hatred in his gaze and turned away. Snuggling deeper into Gawain’s arms, she tried to forget the banked violence in his king’s eyes.

  “Of course I shall accept her.” Hema snorted. “Do I look a fool to you? I asked what manner of creature she was…not ordered her death!”

  Selene winked at Bede. “Good. I shall leave you to this. I have issue with a young god who has forgotten his manners.” In a cloud of smoke, she vanished, leaving the stunned silence of the room.

  “Milord, surely you don’t think we must follow her order. We cannot risk all of our kind for the sake of one.” Dorstan waved a hand.

  “We shall do as she bids. War is on the horizon, Dorstan. Look beneath your feet, the floor still bears the scars of a recent battle, those are not false images.”

  Bede gasped as Gawain tugged her around the assembled warriors. She noted some were carrying wounded from the room, others were bundling the dead. Her eyes caught Ashalia’s. The young girl smiled, bowed her head, and darted off after the queen who strode regally from the room.

  “Milord, may I remind you what happened when you allowed a stranger to…” Dorstan’s voice faded as Gawain tugged Bede into a room and closed the door.

  A moment later her back slammed against the cold wood, his hot body pressed against hers. She shuddered at the heat in his gaze, his hands blocking her in as they pressed against the door on either side of her head.

  “Milord?”

  “I missed you.” Gawain licked at her jaw. “I longed to see you, to touch you. I dreamed of you in pain and could do nothing.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, milord. We’re together now.”

  “Aye.”

  Bede whimpered as his lips descended on hers with bruising intent. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she squeezed, content to remain in his arms even if their fate was far from certain.

  Desire flared, scorching along her skin with each brush of his hands. His fingers plucked the heavy armor from her shoulders and arms to clatter to the ground. Muffled giggles and harsh, uneven breathing filled the silence. Her body arched, pressing closer to him as he ground against her. The feel of his hard shaft teased her. She jumped with the first brush of his fingers against the swollen folds of her sex. A cold breath against her flesh before it faded to be repla
ced with heat, his fingers gliding through the moist proof of her lust.

  Pushing his clothes from his shoulders, Bede whimpered. Swallowing her moans she clawed at his back, her eyes closing at the sensations flooding her body. Hot, wet, his mouth suckled at her nipple, his fangs scratching over the flesh, sending shards of pleasure straight to her groin.

  A furious snarl from Gawain drew her attention. Tensing, she clung to him, her body swamped in a pleasurable haze. “Gawain?”

  “Shh.” Gawain inhaled. “Do you smell it?”

  Bede inhaled, the rich smell of earth flooded the room. She frowned, her gaze sweeping the shadows. The sound of wings pulsed like a heartbeat, stirring the smell of water and earth to life. Her hand wrapped around Gawain’s arm when he turned, his hand reaching for his weapon.

  “What is it?” Bede’s voice cracked, fear replacing any hint of arousal.

  “I am uncertain.” Gawain pressed her back against the door. “Stay behind me.”

  “I think not, milord. I am…”

  “Now is not the time to question me.”

  “At ease, vampire. I mean no harm to you or your mate.” The accented voice rose, filling the room before a figure appeared. A black crow’s head flowed down into powerful shoulders covered only by a single wide leather band.

  “What are you?” Bede’s fingers tightened until they ached.

  “Khrund.” Gawain shrugged.

  “What?” She leaned forward, her chin on Gawain’s shoulder. “What is it?”

  “Khrund, he’s the Egyptian god of…”

  “It matters not, Bede. I bring a message to ease the burden in both your hearts.” The mighty god settled on the edge of a cluttered altar. “’Tis rare to be so well thought of by Selene. Indeed, she barely glances at a mortal.” He shifted his weight carefully. “Seek your sister not in this time. Her destiny lies within the arms of Liam, within the safe embrace of her soul mate and not this world. Amuliana has drawn her into service, to rip her from it would cause much havoc. Take heart, Bede, she will be safe, protected, and loved until she finds her way to you.”