Forsaken Heart Page 5

  Her hand trembled as it went to the warm metal on her hip. Her fingers tightened around the hilt. “Mother, what have you done?” Her whisper drifted away on the slight breeze, unanswered, leaving Bede with the heavy cloak of loneliness.

  * * * *

  “What reasoning do you have for such an act? You steal away like a thief in the night. I rather believe you’re of the same ilk as those who invaded our country.” Una stared impassively at the tall, pale man before her.

  He seemed to gloat, his vacant stare settling on her before sliding away.

  “I care not what you believe…”

  “Anagor, leave us.” The sultry feminine tone had the stranger vanishing in a puff of smoke. Light shifted, dancing across the creek, and Una ground her teeth together at the lack of normalcy, yet there was no fear, only a niggling anger that nothing was being done to get her back to her sister.

  “Bede must be terribly upset,” she whispered to herself. Heaving a sigh, Una turned to stare at the tall, gorgeous blonde dressed in yards of pale material. “And what is it you wish of me?”

  Strangely, she felt no trepidation, only a deep loathing at the careless way the woman before her squandered her innocence, her purity. Instead, a shadow of greed, of lust oozed from within to stain her pale features. Darkness had closed around her heart until it was a shriveled, hollow gap within her chest. Evil had crept through her to the bone until only a husk remained.

  “Such a presumptuous little tart, aren’t you?” She giggled, her nail streaking down Una’s nose. “If you must know, my dear child, I have no desire for you personally, it is another I seek.”

  “Then return me to my sister.”

  “I fear I cannot, Una. Your sister’s fate is not tied to yours. Rather it is tied to him. To unite you now would lead to some rather unpleasant things, of which I doubt you’d care to know. Though I would be delighted to tell you. After all, what care I for the petty emotions of a mortal brat?” The woman chuckled. “Yes, I rather think it best not to speak of such things.”

  “In other words, milady, you’ve no intention of helping my sister.” Una’s hands knotted into fists.

  “Precisely. Come now, child. I shall instruct you in your duties until your time comes. It is best if Saltar knows nothing of you just yet. He’d have your soul since he can’t have your body.”

  Una shivered at the chill stabbing through her like an icy dagger. A shadow passed in front of her, red glowing eyes peering out from the darkness before it vanished. She knew with a sudden bone-breaking certainty that evil had stirred and somehow the woman before her had a part within it.

  Chapter 5

  His skin tight, uncomfortable, Gawain paced the confines of the small cave they’d found. The late day sun was blocked by the steady rain falling. The urge to keep moving pulled at him. Why had Anagor taken the babe and left Bede?

  Wincing at the sharp bite of pain through his fangs, Gawain glanced behind him at the sleeping woman. Her dark hair spilled across the ground, his cloak her only protection from the elements. Bruises marred her pale flesh—and the pale blue lines of her veins stood out in stark relief.

  “Nay, I’m not Dorstan or Anagor. I’ll not damn both of our eternal souls to Stylox by drinking from a woman,” he swore. Turning away from the storm, he strode to the back of the cave, sinking to the ground, one booted foot braced against the damp stone. The air around him smelled of rain, clean, fresh…like the sleeping woman. He inhaled, his body tensing at the faint but familiar perfume of her that teased his nose. He looked at Bede, images floating across his mind’s eye, blurring her visage and setting his blood to boiling.

  “No! Gods above, no!” Screams of anguish rose above the din of battle as Gawain raced up the stairs. Dread settled like chains about his ankles as he pushed past dragons, past demons, ruthlessly killing to get to his king. Slamming through the broken chamber doors, his sword clattered to the stone beneath his feet.

  Blood dripped from the pale beard of a general. His red eyes narrowed with delight as he licked the blood from his lips. At his feet, her elegant body broken, her eyes staring sightlessly at nothing, lay his queen, the one he’d sworn on all that was holy to protect.

  “No.” Sinking to his knees, Gawain stared at the bloody corpse, anger like a tidal wave growing within him to slam through the defenses of his control. Rage swarmed over him, giving him strength as he launched himself across the room. Saltar’s merciless laughter filled the air as he swung his sword to block Gawain’s attack. Ducking beneath the heavy blade, Gawain sank his axe into Saltar’s leg, nearly severing it as the old vampire fell, screaming in agony.

  “Nay, Gawain.” Hema’s shocked voice halted his blade. “Death is too good.” He paused, his eyes narrowing to glow a dangerous scarlet as they settled on Saltar’s bloody face. “How could you? You, my most trusted general, my friend. You have betrayed me in a manner most foul. Be it a curse upon you! A curse upon those who are of your ilk, of your clan! No more shall you be free.”

  Gawain jerked from the memories, his eyes falling on the sleeping woman as his hand traced over the long, jagged scar down his face. It was the mark he wore since that night. A sign of his failure—a blow given by Saltar.

  Rising, his emotions swinging wildly, he palmed his chest. Hema had not accused, nor blamed—but that had not done much to dissuade others. Now, it was like he’d been thrown from his clan, his cast. How he wished he could go back, save the beautiful dracvipen and regain what his fellow warriors had shunned him for. Shaking his head, he turned to pace back through the darkness. Recriminations and regrets would only weigh him down.

  A soft moan from behind him drew along his body like a string. The faint note of arousal, of want, enough to stroke his cock and build a fire within him. His fangs lengthened, sharpened, the tips aching with a different need…a different hunger flowed through his blood. His eyes closed, the images burning through his mind. The pale curve of a hip, the swell of a breast as he drew the hardened nipple into his mouth, his fangs tracing over it. The heady scent of her sweet blood beneath the flesh flooding his senses as he nibbled on her neck. Her muted cry as she came around his fingers, his fangs sunk deep into where her shoulder and neck joined.

  “Gawain!” Bede’s sharp tone pulled him. He whirled, his hand already reaching for his sword at the fear and uncertainty within her voice. Beyond her, he caught the faint movement of a shadow and any hint of arousal was scorched away by pure rage.

  “Captain, what do you want?” Gawain eased the sword from its sheath, one hand darting out to toss Bede behind him. “I certainly hope it isn’t the woman. I’ve little patience for those who would steal from me—even if they do have Hema’s ear.”

  “Why would I concern myself with the wench?” His lips twisted into a sneer, Dorstan stepped from the shadows. “I’ve a dozen waiting to warm my bed at any moment. Women who are far more beautiful than this simple human. They understand all the needs of a man. She is as untutored as a stone, and I’ve no desire to be her instructor.”

  “Perhaps then you should go stalk them. Or are you hunting?” Gawain ground out. Fear followed quickly by anger flared at the very notion. “Beggin’ your indulgence, but I’ve not seen a single dragon of late nor any dhymphur.”

  “Gawain, you’re favored by the king, ’tis the only reason you still live. You should have died six hundred years before this night. Sadly, you did not, and now you walk a line the king has drawn,” Dorstan hissed. “I come because Hema has ordered it. I bear a warning for you.”

  “Warning?” Gawain felt his stomach drop. “Has King Hema decided my failure to secure the babe worthy of note? How could I be so foolish to let one get—”

  “Saltar has stirred. Someone has loosened his bonds in Norech, and even now he is gaining power. One of his servants attacked a small village—slaughtered many before he was driven off by a demoness and her minions. Hema has sent an envoy to her to seek terms.”

  “The demoness holds the villag
ers captive? What terms could she possible have? Hema must send—”

  “She holds no one. It is rumored that she is a warrior priestess, serves Nerafailer, one of his cursed. Phantalia says her fate lies with One of the Seven.”

  “Demons? Saltar? What blasphemy is this?” Bede clung to Gawain’s arm, doubt a thread in her croaked words.

  “My, my, my, the little fleshling speaks. I would have believed he’d have bit out your tongue by now. Though, goodness me, I see no marks upon that lovely neck. What’s the matter, Gawain? Not tempting enough for you? She is not the one Hema seeks, drink of her and discard the husk. You have a duty…”

  “Do not challenge me, Dorstan,” Gawain snarled. His fangs lengthened, sharpening menacingly. His claws flared, glinting in the weak light. “My vows hold true, unlike yours. You seek the enemy, slaughtering young when you should be focusing instead on securing our king’s line.”

  “Mind me, warrior, find the girl. Return her to the king’s court so that your honor will be recovered. I’ve no desire to drift from our realm to this one without just reasoning.”

  “How did you get here?” Gawain pressed the tip of his blade against Dorstan’s throat. “There are no portals here. I would sense a gatekeeper if there were.”

  “Really, Gawain, you are so foolish. There is no need—”

  “Did you follow me from three suns passed? Or perhaps you came before I did. Tell me, how is it that you came to be here? Perhaps you’re working with Anagor to seize the prize before I can deliver her to our king. The lizard killer and the sunwalker, how trite. How traitorous.” He licked at the tip of a fang, tasting the bitter venom that formed, the anger that coursed through at the subtle challenge that came from within the ranks of his sect.

  “I’ve no need to travel by portal.” Dorstan eyed Bede for a moment, his eyes flashing before he turned and stepped out into the storm. “Find the babe, his lordship has plans for her.”

  “No, Gawain, you cannot—”

  “Be silent, woman.” Dorstan’s furious hiss filled the cave as he shimmered in the rain. “Your pathetic desires have no meaning to us. Kill the bitch and find the babe, and do it with all due haste.”

  Gawain roared in fury with the flash of Dorstan’s disappearance. His nails bit into his palms, his fangs aching with the desire to kill. Whirling, he glared at Bede who stepped back, her breathing fast, shallow, terror in her eyes. Yet he didn’t sense it directed at him. Nay, it was something far deeper, far more sinister that she feared.

  “Calm yourself, Bede, I’ve no desire…” He trailed off at the desperate shake of her head. Confusion clouded his mind for a moment before she spoke.

  “I can smell it.” Bede’s soft whisper was like a slap. “Fire, blood. It is deeper, richer…”

  Shock ripped into him, and his jaw dropped. It was impossible, no mortal could smell what he had long since grown accustomed to. The hot metallic scent, the hiss of ancient blood cooling within a body. “What is this you smell?”

  “Blood boiling over a fire. Wood, smoke, I can taste it on my tongue. Sweet yet bitter, it congeals but never loses its scent.” Tears filled her eyes as she pressed fingers to her lips. “It is unlike anything I’ve ever smelt. Living almost. It lies on my tongue as though I’d eaten of it recently.”

  Gawain strode to the cave opening and stared out. “’Tis the scent of a dragon. You should not scent such a thing. There has been no dragon seen here. We are at...” He froze, ice flowing through his veins. “That is how he came to be here. He has forsaken it all. He drank of them, ’tis why he is so feared upon the battlefield. His thirst for dragon blood has made him a slave to his desires.”

  “Milord?”

  Turning at Bede’s hesitant query he narrowed his eyes, his fangs easing a bit. “How is it you scented him? None but those living within the clan have done so in centuries. What manner of fleshling are you?” His fist tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, the scent of her blood filling his nose. Sweet, innocent, it battered the chastity he’d embraced for so many years.

  Staring at her, he felt something snap, like a broken bone that had been set, and realization hit. Aye, she was one of them—one of Saltar’s line...and she belonged to him. The enemy was within his grasp and revenge would be sweet.

  * * * *

  “Gawain, what did he mean? What does your king want with my sister?” Bede shuddered at the fury that danced in his eyes before he stepped back. “Gawain?”

  “It is your line. Long ago, your leader betrayed his people, broke every vow there was, and he and his followers were condemned. Your sister is in some way important to keeping that traitor locked within his prison.” Gawain sheathed his sword with a quick, rough motion. “Hema will discover the truth of her and then use it to keep Saltar bound.”

  “Milord, I do not see…”

  “See? See what?” Gawain snarled in her face. “You are disposable, Bede, a fleshling with nothing more than blood flowing through your veins. ’Tis not you my king sent me to retrieve…”

  “He’s going to kill her, isn’t he?” Bede raked a hand through her hair. “Just as you are going to kill me. It is what your commander ordered you to do. It is my end, my sister’s end—”

  “I have no interest in your death. Nor do I see the death of your Una, but I do not know.” Gawain adjusted his cloak and eyed the sky. “It is not for me to say. Come, we haven’t much time and I wish to be as far from here as we can get before the sun rises.”

  “My poor Una.” Her mind whirled, racing from thought to thought. She needed to keep her sister safe, but how? How could she, a mortal woman, keep these animals from slaughtering Una? She rubbed at her eyes to clear the burning sensation.

  He wrapped his hand around her arm, the soft touch at odds with his harsh tone. Her eyes flew to his and her heart stuttered, shocked at the pain, the remorse within his dark eyes.

  “Come, Bede. We must go.”

  Like air from a bladder, the hiss filled her head. Shimmering along the pale flesh of his throat, its golden eyes glowed. With each pulse of her heart, the serpent unfurled his hood, spreading, wrapping around his throat until its forked tongue licked at the corner of his lips. Scales rasped along the stubble of his jaw.

  Its slender body slithered along his torso. A single drop of crimson blood clung to its tail as it wrapped around where his heart would be. Each breath he took spread the hood, the snake rising from the flesh until it was a living, breathing entity.

  “’Tis not possible.”

  “Certainly, it is.” The snake’s voice filled her mind. “Just as it must be.” Separating from Gawain’s body it danced in the air, inching off his flesh until it began wrapping itself around her. “Why do you deny what is yours by right, Bede? Why do you not claim what you hold? He is yours. As you are his. Honor will bind you long after the fear has faded. Come, look upon yourself and see.”

  Pulled by some invisible thread, her hand clinging to Gawain’s, they slipped along the rocky shore to the water. Staring down into the clear water, Bede’s eyes widened at the image that greeted her. Hovering over her shoulder the snake flicked its tongue out and in. Tasting, smelling—she cared not. Along her throat, itching, burning, ripping through the tender skin, another being fought. Its fangs and claws shredding skin until it too coiled around her throat, its vibrant blue hue at odds with the darkened gray of Gawain’s snake.

  “No! This cannot be.” Bede grabbed at her throat, the tickle of a tongue flicking out, dancing across her palm. “I…I…”

  “It is done. We are one, together there is no danger.” The snake whispered in her ear as he wound around her until he was side by side with the image on her throat. She cried softly at the tearing sensation as the blue serpent unwound from her neck to slither along her flesh, down her arm, and sink its fangs into Gawain’s body.

  “No! Please, he…”

  “Shh.” Gawain cupped her jaw. “’Tis done. One cannot take without giving, Bede. The man may doubt, but
we cannot.” His voice lowered as the snakes danced along their bodies, pulling and twisting until they were pressed together. Only then did they seem to crawl beneath their flesh and vanish, leaving her with a strange urge to scratch her neck…and an even stronger urge to sink her teeth into the spot between his shoulders and neck that screamed at her instincts to take.

  Shaken, her mouth gaping open, Bede stared at Gawain’s retreating figure. Her hand reached up, her fingertips trailing over the raised welt at her throat. She didn’t need a reflection to know it was the dripping fangs of a serpent.

  Chapter 6

  Dropping the furry carcass next to a small fire, Gawain glanced at Bede. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, one arm stretched out. A quick whiff told him plenty. Arousal filled her scent, plucking at his control like a well meaning child with a toy.

  Frustrated, he growled. How long would he be able to control the desire racing through him? What would it feel like to claim her, to dive into her and slake the hunger making his cock ache? She’d be sweeter than fresh blood. Tight, fitting him like a glove, her hips undulating beneath his, her breasts filling his palms. Confusion tangled with lust, irritating him further.

  He palmed his shaft through the leather of his trews. His breath escaped in a hiss. Pleasure unlike nothing he’d ever known ripped through him. Turning, he strode from the firelight, certain a bit of distance would sooth the fire raging in his loins. Remember your vow, Gawain. It must not be broken, no matter the temptation.

  The hilt of his sword felt good in his hand as his eyes scanned the shadows. He needed to rid himself of these urges. She was mortal, human, basic food for some of his kind. His fangs ached at the mere thought of another drinking from her. Slashing through the air, he growled at the branch that landed at his feet. “Food never looked this good.” Gawain kicked at the fallen wood. Impassively he watched it scratch and skip across the dirt, disturbing the foliage upon the ground.