The Champion

by H. P. Mallory

  Who was it, then? If not me… Who the bloody hell was it?

  Almost certainly the frog.

  At the return of this most lowly thought, I felt my very being become infused with rage once more, as I pictured the fop with his artfully tousled hair and his affected ways. For all I knew, he was not even really French! Perhaps he just affected the accent in a bid to woo the ladies.

  I would not put such artifice past that treacherous fool!

  In my worked-up state, I chose to ignore the fact that I was familiar with his sister, Audrey, and she was most certainly of Gallic ancestry. But, no mind! Logic had no place in my enraged world at this particular moment. Logic could be damned, for all I cared.

  An image of Bryn and Chevalier together assaulted my mind’s eye, and I nearly felt my heart rip in two at the thought of their limbs glistening and entwined, his lips covering her glorious body with kisses, whilst he entered her and took from her the passion she had bequeathed upon me…

  Another roar escaped me, and this time I punched a hole right though the cave wall, allowing me to see the ocean beyond. The thunder of the sea instantly became more audible and powerful, echoing my own internal din.

  What was I to do? What the bloody hell was I to do?

  I ached to wring Chevalier’s scrawny neck. Better still, to drain him of his blood. He was a formidable foe, it was true. But I was certain that I, the legendary master vampire Sinjin Sinclair, could take his sorry arse—or ass, as the Americans had taught me to say.

  The thought of slaking my anger upon Chevalier began to fill my mind. Of course, he must have realized Lady Bryn was lying with me, just as she was lying with him. Perhaps the two of them laughed behind my back. Perhaps he was fully aware that her womb was full of his seed.

  Yes, revenge would be mine, and it would be sweet.

  Bryn

  “Devastated” did not begin to describe the depths of my feelings. Devastation and confusion, actually.

  I was still shocked that there was a chance I was pregnant. After that initial shock wore off and I began to accept the possibility of my condition, other feelings began to take over. But those other feelings were anything but joyous.

  And that reality bit me hard.

  Why? Because this should have been one of the happiest moments of my existence: discovering I was having a child with a man I loved. And this realization came after I’d truly believed I wasn’t even able to have children.

  And then I was overcome by a horrible thought—a ripe, ugly, festering, awful thought.

  Could this be Luce’s doing?

  Had he infiltrated my mind to such an extent that he was capable of knowing my deepest desires? Had he manufactured a fake pregnancy inside my body—one that was so believable that Sinjin had detected it in my blood?

  Did Luce have that sort of power?

  No, I didn’t think he did. I dismissed the idea as farfetched. Even Luce—the man I’d once erroneously viewed as a father figure—didn’t possess such magical powers. There had to be another explanation, and I was determined to find it.

  But, first, I needed to discover whether Sinjin was even correct in his announcement that I was pregnant. I mean, all this mess could be for nothing if we found out Sinjin had just gotten it wrong.

  That would be a humble pie I’d thoroughly enjoy watching him eat. Or would it be crow he’d be eating?

  As I wandered listlessly through the forest alongside Kinloch Kirk, I realized I was coming closer to Mathilda’s house. Had this been my subconscious intention all along? Because God knew I could certainly do with the sage advice of the most powerful and ancient fairy woman. Not to mention her warmth and comfort.

  Mathilda’s garden was, as ever, a huge source of pleasure to me. Medicinal herbs grew in a higgledy-piggledy fashion alongside flowers selected for their beauty and fragrance. The whole feel was that of an old-fashioned cottage garden in which Mathilda’s charming cottage nestled. I was so preoccupied with looking at the plants, that I almost collided with another person doing exactly the same.

  Dureau.

  My heart sank when I found myself standing before him as he smirked down at me. I inwardly kicked myself for forgetting Dureau was under ‘house arrest’ in Mathilda’s cottage, or ‘quarantined,’ as he’d termed it. Regardless, Dureau had been ordered to remain with Mathilda until we could figure out how to strengthen his mental defenses against Luce.

  As we’d all just learned, Dureau was subject to a curse—it was a curse that had been placed on his entire family and one that ensured his sister, Audrey, was unable to leave her swamp home in Louisiana, or she would forever remain in her alligator form. Luckily for Audrey, Dureau was able to reverse her curse with the help of Monsieur D’s magic.

  Unluckily for Dureau, he wasn’t able to reverse his own curse, a curse that forced him to spend as much time in the dream world as in the real one. And the longer he lived with this curse, the more the real world began to blend into the dream world. He worried that fairly soon, he wouldn’t be able to judge what was real and what was imaginary. Furthermore, his weakened state had allowed Luce to attack him in the dream world. Thus, Dureau was considered a liability to the rest of us, which was why he was ‘quarantined’ within Mathilda’s cottage.

  “Bryn!” He seemed happy to see me, which made me feel even worse. “Please tell me you’ve come to visit me to take my mind off this boring place?”

  “Um, yes. We have some… uh, things to discuss.” This much, at least, was true.

  Dureau nodded. “Shall we walk?” He gestured to the path ahead.

  I nodded and fell into step with him. We both were quiet for a few seconds, and I glanced up at his face. His head was down, as if he was examining the ground, and I was struck by how sad he looked. And there was something else there, too…

  There was an air of distraction about him. I had the weird impression that he wasn’t really here with me. Even though the thought made little sense, it scared me all the same, especially since I’d so recently learned that his curse forced him to live half his life in the dream world.

  “Dureau?” I asked softly.

  No response.

  “Dureau?” Louder this time.

  He jerked his head around and faced me, blinking several times. I smiled at him and watched his expression soften.

  “I think it’s time we discussed how we’re going to go about invading the dreams of Luce’s tribe,” I said.

  I’d discovered, a short time ago, that my former leader, Luce, had been lying to his tribe about their origins for years. I, too, as a former tribe member, had once fallen for these same artful dishonesties.

  After realizing the truth regarding the lineage of Luce’s people, I felt certain that once the tribe learned the truth—that they were much more closely related to us, the people of the Underworld, than they realized—some of them would desert Luce and his cause in order to join us. In this way, I hoped to avoid any future bloodshed. The truth was, both sides had already shed enough blood.

  But how to tell Luce’s people the truth? That was the sticking point.

  We’d decided that the best way was for Dureau and me to use our telepathic link to visit the tribe members in their dreams. In doing so, we would plant the true story of their ancestry into their minds as they slept.

  Of course, this plan wasn’t without its difficulties.

  Dureau began shaking his head at me.

  “Bryn,” he started. “I think you’re missing a crucial detail.”

  “What do you mean? What crucial detail?”

  He frowned. “How can we even attempt this plan while my defenses against Luce are so low? It wouldn’t be safe. For either of us.”

  “You’re right.” Of course, he was right! And I should have already realized as much.

  Well, my mind has been overwhelmed with… other subjects lately! I thought to myself.

  “I’m surprised that realization didn’t dawn on you already,” he said as he looked d
own at me.

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “We’ve all had a lot on our minds,” he answered, and sounded… angry? Sad? A mixture of the two? I wasn’t really sure.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, wanting to play the part of friend. Truthfully, for whatever confusion existed between Dureau and me—I mean, we were attracted to each other—we were first and foremost friends.

  “No,” he answered, sounding angry. I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “Okay, did you want to talk about it?”

  “Yes, I want to talk about it!” he railed at me.

  I swallowed hard because I wasn’t sure where this bitterness was coming from. He seemed angry with… me?

  “I don’t hear you talking,” I said.

  He ran an agitated hand through his hair and exhaled through his nose as he stared down at the ground and seemed unsure where to start. “I can’t handle this waiting anymore, Bryn,” he said as he turned to face me.

  “This waiting?” I repeated as I realized what he was talking about. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer until we’re able to find an antidote to the curse, Dureau. And then you won’t have to stay here, with Mathilda, for very much longer.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m talking about you , Bryn.”

  “Me?” I asked, sounding as confused as I felt.

  “Yes, I’m driven mad by not knowing what this is between us.” He took another big breath and held it before looking at me and sighing again. “What is this between us?”

  I gulped. I looked forward to these types of conversations about as much as I’d look forward to getting my arm amputated with a cold spoon.

  Dureau’s face was uncomfortably close to mine. I could feel his hot breath fanning across my cheeks. I could smell the red wine that still tainted his mouth. Was he drunk? I hoped so. It might soften the blow. Because he wasn’t going to like what I had to tell him. Yet, it was something that had to be said, all the same.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Dureau.”

  “Sorry … for what?”

  “I… I can’t give you what you’re asking of me,” I said in a small voice.

  “What am I asking of you?”

  “Well, I guess you aren’t asking anything of me, other than my feelings for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know I care about you,” I started, feeling heat building up in me and staining my cheeks. God, how I hated this crap. “And I have cared about you, ever since we were kids. But that caring is in a friendship sort of way.”

  “Then you don’t feel as if that friendship could grow into something else?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

  I shook my head, even as I felt terrible doing so. “No. It’s… it’s just friendship that I feel for you, Dureau.”

  He nodded as if he understood but was hurt by my words all the same. “It’s Sinjin?” he asked as he turned to face me.

  Even though I wasn’t on speaking terms with the vampire at the moment, I still nodded weakly.

  Dureau shook his head and looked at the ground once more, as if disbelieving his ears. “Really?” he asked at last.

  “Really.”

  “I have to know, Bryn,” he said as he glanced over at me. “What does Sinjin have that I don’t?”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “It must be,” he argued, and I could see the anger in his gaze and hear it in his voice. I couldn’t blame him. I’d just hurt him, and I hated myself for having done so. Furthermore, I couldn’t fully understand the reasons why I’d chosen Sinjin, myself.

  I mean, Dureau was handsome, kind, charming and strong, and he’d been a true friend to me in my many hours of need.

  But Sinjin… there was just this … bond between us that I couldn’t explain. Even now, after the terrible fight we’d just had, I couldn’t deny the ties holding us together.

  “So that’s it, then?” Dureau asked.

  I could barely stand to look at the pain on his face. There were many times that I didn’t like my newfound sensitivity to the emotions of others, and this was one of those times. As a member of Luce’s tribe, I’d been taught to disregard feelings, and while this approach definitely had its cons, it made life simpler.

  “Yes,” I said, softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Dureau sighed, and the sound seemed to come from the pit of his being.

  “Then there’s nothing more to say.”

  And with that, he walked away. I wanted to call him back to try to explain. To tell him that he was handsome and amazing and that I cared for him so much. It was just … What was the point? How could I ever make Dureau understand a decision that I didn’t even fully understand myself? In the end, it was kinder just to let him go.

  As I watched my friend disappear into the trees of the forest beyond Mathilda’s cottage, I made a silent vow to myself. No matter what it took, I was going to find a way to rid Dureau of his curse. Even if it meant wringing Monsieur D’s neck. Come to think of it, I’d probably enjoy doing just that.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sinjin

  I smashed up more rocks than I cared to count. I felt marginally better, but …

  I strode up the corridor of the main house of Kinloch Kirk, where the queen and her silly paramour, Randall, made their home. I did not wish to go back to the guest house in case Bryn had also chosen to return.

  Sometimes having adjoining bedrooms was a blessing, but at other times, such as now, it was a curse. I was in search of a suitable darkened room in which to retire. I was still consumed with rage and did not relish the idea of my fellow creatures of the Underworld seeing me in such a manner. I had a certain reputation to uphold, after all: Sinjin Sinclair, master vampire and Chief Protector. I prided myself on appearing cool, calm and collected at all times.

  And after my rock-crushing interests of late, I imagined I must look quite dishevelled. Dismantling rocks did not do wonders for one’s hairstyle, as it were. And I could not, for the un-life of me, get my incisors to retract. I abhorred this lack of self-control as it was quite plebeian.

  There was no shortage of guest rooms in the vast mansion house. I ascertained that my best chance of finding one unoccupied was to go upstairs. No sooner had my foot touched the first step of the staircase than I was halted by a familiar female voice.

  “Sinjin.”

  I looked up. Standing at the top of the stairwell was none other than Audrey Chevalier, sister of the dastardly Fop Chevalier.

  I stepped back to the ground floor and inclined my head by way of greeting. “Mademoiselle Chevalier,” I said.

  The lady giggled, and the sound reminded me of pealing bells.

  “Mademoiselle Chevalier?” she repeated with another laugh. “Sinjin! Why the formality? Surely we know each other well enough by now to be on first name terms?”

  I presumed she was referring to the fact that we had come excruciatingly close to having carnal knowledge of one another. Her wicked smile quite convinced me that she was, indeed, thinking of that incident.

  And I had to admit Audrey was looking particularly fetching on this occasion. She wore an extremely short floral frock, which brought back pleasant memories of my time posing as a beatnik on London’s Carnaby Street in the 1960s, surrounded by long-legged lovelies in their Mary Quant mini-skirts. Ah, those were the days!

  Audrey’s skirt was indeed very short, and, as she was standing atop the staircase, her legs slightly apart, I was gifted with quite an excellent, intimate view of her womanly delights. That view, coupled with the tonal quality of the way she pronounced my name in that alluring French accent of hers, added to the way in which she smiled at me … ahem.

  “What were you doing?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes in quite a flirtatious manner.

  “I was looking for an unattended room.”

  “I have a room,” said the lady, twirling a strand of her lustrous hair around her finger. “Say
no more.”

  I paused for a moment as an image of Bryn briefly flitted before my eyes. The image caused me only a moment of pause before iron-hot anger welled up within me.

  What was wrong with me? Bryn had certainly made it quite clear that she and I were certainly not monogamous with one another, so why should I feel even the slightest pang of guilt at Audrey’s invitation? Perhaps it would be quite funny, actually—the thought that I was bedding Audrey and Bryn was bedding her brother.

  But there was nothing funny about the thought of Dureau Chevalier inside my woman.

  She is not your woman, you fool, I chastised myself. Proof enough is that another man’s child grows within her.

  In one enormous leap, I cleared the first two stairs and took Audrey by her proffered arm. I considered that a few hours with Audrey would dispense with the last vestiges of my anger. And other appetites which gentlemen do not discuss…

  I dematerialized and transported us both directly to Audrey’s bedchamber. Why waste time walking? I remembered well where her chamber was located. I deposited the lady onto her bed and immediately commenced removing my clothing.

  Audrey giggled coquettishly. “Why, Sinjin. You are in a hurry!”

  “Well, we do have unfinished business to attend to.”

  I was naked in no time. My vampire blood was already heating up, and so was something else. Audrey smiled in approval.

  I jumped on top of her, causing her bed to creak in quite an alarming manner.

  Audrey shrieked with laughter. “Careful! We will end up on the floor.”

  “I do not care.” I growled into her neck, hearing her pulse pounding in my ears. I wanted nothing more than to taste the bouquet of her delicate flavor, to feel the hot warmth as it seeped over my tongue.

  “What’s gotten into you today, Sinjin?”

  “It must be your charming frock,” I answered, though I must admit my mind was elsewhere. With increasing urgency, I slid my hand up the back of her luscious thighs, all the way to her panties.

  “First things first,” I started, “Let us rid ourselves of these offending undergarments.” She giggled as I slid her panties all the way down to her ankles. “You can keep the frock on. I will just undo a few buttons …” I commenced to do so, concentrating on the area where her breasts strained to break free of the flimsy material. I relished the way her breathing became increasingly ragged and the scent of her desire filled the room.