Immortal Wounds

by Nicole Grane

  Chapter 32: Sacrifices

  “Excuse me Miss; I knocked . . .” Richard was standing beside me.

  “Hum?” I didn’t turn to look at him. I was staring out the window, watching Marcus mount his horse.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Miss. Try not to worry.” By now, Richard had become pretty good at assessing my feelings, especially where Marcus was concerned.

  “You are a sight Miss. Can I call a doctor for you?”

  “There isn’t time.” My response was almost mechanical. I was so engrossed in watching Marcus; I couldn’t afford to pry my attention away from him for even a moment. My eyes drank in every detail. For all I knew, this might be the last time I saw him.

  Raymose waved enthusiastically from a top his horse—the fool—he was excited to go. After the “little tussle” with Damen, he was more eager than ever to get his fangs into him. He bowed dramatically, turned his horse and dug in. He was out of sight in a matter of seconds.

  Marcus stared long toward the window, his eyes locking with mine. He looked so solemn. I wanted to reach out to him and hold him, to tell him he didn’t have to go, but I knew he’d never shirk his duty. Honestly, I didn’t want him to. It was one of the qualities I admired most about him. It always had been, even when I was the other Phoebe. He nodded once, then turned his horse and cantered off.

  My heart fell as panic engulfed me. His mind wasn’t focused. He was worried . . . about me! I saw it in his eyes.

  “He’s in trouble Richard.” I stared after Marcus, gripping the windowsill, watching breathlessly as he disappeared into the trees.

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “You saw it too?” I turned to Richard. He didn’t need to answer; it was written all over his face.

  It was just like last time . . . I’d had a feeling he’d needed me . . . only this time, I wasn’t going after him. This time I’d promised I’d go wherever Richard took me.

  “I don’t wish to rush you, Miss, but time is of the essence. I have a change of clothing for you in the armoire.” Richard spoke hurriedly as he ushered me across the room. I opened the door and saw an outfit that did not belong to me.

  “It’s yours, Miss. At least it was . . . once upon a time.” He smiled.

  “I don’t understand?”

  “It’s made of leather Miss. It should help withstand any teeth that may try to penetrate it.”

  I gave him a confused look.

  “You did promise to go only where I lead you . . . It just so happens we’re going in the same direction Mr. Marcus has gone.” A wry smile claimed him. “Should we happen to meet up with him . . .”

  I threw my arms around Richard and kissed his cheek repeatedly.

  “Yes, Miss. Don’t thank me yet,” Richard warned. “You must understand that I am only one. I can only keep so many off you. You will have to look out for yourself.”

  “Of course Richard, thank you.” I collected myself as best I could, wiping the tears from my face.

  “Considering your present condition . . .” Richard began, “I’m not sure it’s a wise idea.”

  “I’m fine Richard!” I forced my body to stand straight. If Richard had the nerve to take me into battle, then I was going to stand tall for him. I’d crumple into a heap and die later. Marcus needed me.

  “Yes well, you’ll need to clean up as much of the blood as you can. We’ll be surrounded by an army of vampires as well, so it won’t do us any good to have you bleeding now would it?”

  “I’ll clean up every drop,” I assured.

  He frowned at my enthusiasm “There are some boots for you as well. I believe you are the same size?”

  I picked the boots up, turning them slightly. They were in impeccable condition. I didn’t know how they could have possibly stood the test of time.

  “I’ll have your sword fastened to your saddle. Rain is waiting at the south entrance as we speak; I’ll meet you downstairs shortly.” He moved to leave the room.

  “Richard,” I called out after him.

  “Yes, Miss?”

  I stared at him for a moment, biting my lip. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

  “I truly hope so, Miss.” He shut the door quietly behind him.

  I went to the bathroom and washed my body off as fast as I could. I bandaged every scrape I had, regardless of its severity.

  The outfit Richard had provided for me was the same I’d worn in my dreams. I recognized it now. The pants were made of blackened leather, fairly snug, like the top—although surprisingly modest looking and light weight. The boots, a perfect fit, came just below the knee and very stylish, even by today’s standards. I looked at myself in a mirror. The old Phoebe smiled back at me. I was glad she was with me now. I’d need her strength tonight. “I can do this,” I told the both of us.

  I moved down the stairs as quickly as I could. Richard was pacing anxiously in the entry.

  “Well, Richard?” I asked as I turned around for him to inspect me.

  “You are a vision, Miss. I was right; a perfect fit.” He smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

  “Thank you, Richard, for everything.” I hugged him once again. I didn’t know if it would be the last opportunity I had, and I wanted to make the most of it.

  “The pleasure has been mine, Miss. Shall we?” He motioned to the door.

  I took a deep breath and followed him to the horses that were saddled and ready.

  I rubbed Rain’s neck before I got on. His eyes were red tonight . . .

  “Richard, I’ve always meant to ask Marcus, but Rain’s eyes—”

  “Red? Yes I know. He’s immortal as well,” Richard said casually as he got onto his snowy white steed.

  “But how?” I knew he was from the first time I’d rode him. He could sense a werewolf from far off. His speed was unlike any other horse I’d seen—he was faster than Marcus even! But to hear it out loud seemed more fanciful than Marcus admitting he was an actual vampire.

  “It was an experiment. Luther infected him after Phoebe’s death to see what would happen. Rain was such a part of her; he wanted to keep him alive forever. You see Luther had given Rain as a gift to Phoebe when she was very young. Mr. Marcus has kept him ever since her death, forbidding to part with him.”

  “Then, he’s a sort of vampire too?” I asked, not fully comprehending what I was being told.

  “In a way. He drinks blood as well as water. He’s a fairly normal horse with just a few exceptions,” Richard explained.

  “The others?” I motioned to the barn.

  “They all are. Their speed is a great asset when hunting the wolves.”

  I climbed onto Rain and adjusted myself in the saddle. I looked over at Richard, a question popping to mind.

  “Richard . . . does it bother you that Marcus is a Moon Hunter?”

  He regarded me carefully. “Lord Ashworth has served your father his whole existence. It’s all he knows. His life has been about revenge against those who stole his family from him. Aidric, Damen, it doesn’t matter who it was. Until they’re dead, he will know no peace.”

  “You didn’t really answer my question, Richard.”

  He smiled a crooked smile. “I do not fault him for hunting down those who brutally killed his family, Miss.” His expression was sincere. “Now remember, there will be werewolves as well as vampires. I will do my best to protect you, but you must be ready to fight whoever attacks you. That may include your father.” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

  Luther. I nodded my head in understanding. The thought of having to fight my own father left a sickening feeling in my stomach.

  “And who will you be fighting Richard?” I regarded him carefully. Just what side would he take?

  “I will be fighting anything that tries to harm you Miss.” He bowed his head.

  “Sarah is a lucky girl Richard. I hope she knows that.” A rare shade of blush colored his cheeks. “And so is Lord Ashworth, Miss; although I suspect he knows this.�
�

  Now it was my turn to blush.

  Richard cleared his throat. “Mr. Marcus will be furious when he sees you. He’ll want to protect you. You must hold your own. He can’t afford to let his guard down. There will be too many of them to count.”

  “I understand Richard; I won’t be a burden.”

  I followed Richard in silence. The air was cool and misty. A low fog had already settled in. It would be another dreary day that approached . . . if we lived to see it.

  We rode quickly through the woods. This was a trail I’d not been on before. The trees didn’t grow so close together here. It was easy for the moon to stretch her light all the way to the forest floor. It had dropped slightly, but it was full none-the-less. The sky was eerie tonight. Some might say it was a perfect night for werewolves . . .

  Aside from our horses’ hooves moving across the ground, all had been quiet—except for now—a low roar rose above the silence.

  The horses’ ears twitched as they moved swiftly through the trees. They didn’t need direction. They led us to a steep embankment where they stopped abruptly, rearing up on their hind legs. They neighed loudly, hot air escaping their nostrils. I held onto the reins as I peered over the edge with caution. I could almost feel the heat from the torches burning below us. Their bright glow lit the horror we were about to intrude upon.

  There had to be hundreds and hundreds of them! It looked like a scene from a movie, a medieval battlefield: men on horseback with torches and swords, slaying one another. Only these men were fighting werewolves, and they weren’t men themselves—they were vampires.

  The once low roar from below that carried lightly through the night was growing louder. The growling and snarling and high pitched yelping echoed around us.

  “Miss?”

  I let out a breath of air I didn’t know I was holding. “Richard, my name is Phoebe. If we’re going down there . . .” the words caught in my throat, “ . . . it’s time you called me Phoebe.”

  “Yes, Miss Phoebe.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and smiled in spite of myself.

  A soft glow was coming from the east. Dawn was approaching. My eyes searched tirelessly for Marcus, desperate for a glimpse of him. I had to see that he was all right. My eyes settled on an unexpected sight: Luther. I recognized him at once.

  He looked at me in disbelief—as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. His stare was penetrating. Even from this distance, his eyes were the bluest I’d ever beheld. He was extremely handsome sitting tall on his horse. He looked almost regal, like a king. His figure was broad and muscular. His face, that looked so stern when we first locked eyes, was softer now. I couldn’t help but smile as I bowed my head instinctively.

  His mouth dropped open a little. There was no question now—I was real to him.

  I slipped off Rain’s back and gave him a little nudge. “Go on boy . . . run.” He stood there, staring at me. I could swear he thought I was crazy. “Go on Rain . . . save yourself!” I smacked him hard on the rear. He neighed loudly and bolted back toward the castle. I stared after him, wishing I were riding away with him . . .

  “Ready Miss?” Richard gave me one last questioning look before he slid down the embankment. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and stepped off—

  I didn’t have time to assess my surroundings. Richard pushed me aside as he collided violently with one of the wolves. I was surrounded in a matter of seconds. I gripped my sword tightly, swinging it at the closest one to me, surprising myself as I struck him down with one blow. I spun around, just as a large brown wolf jumped up and over me, to tear at the throat of another—it was Richard!

  He didn’t seem as scary looking as the rest of them. His fur looked softer. Not ratty like the others. He was extremely large, more so than the ones he fought. I was glad he was on my side. Marcus was wise to leave me with him. He fought ferociously, protecting me from any threat.

  But even Richard had his limitations. He’d been right. We were inundated in a matter of minutes. I kept close behind him, holding my sword at the ready, following him into the chaos. I slashed my way through the wolves, killing as many as I could. They were truly vile. I couldn’t imagine I would ever be like them. They were grotesquely huge. Their razor sharp teeth snapping at anything they could grab onto. Their piercing yellow eyes were haunting—I killed them without hesitation.

  There he was . . . Marcus! I sighed in relief. He was alive!

  A sharp blow to the side knocked me a good twenty feet from where I’d been standing. I shook my head, trying to orient myself. I didn’t know how, but somehow I’d managed to hold onto my sword. I looked around; I couldn’t see Richard anywhere.

  “Who are you?” A voice hissed.

  I stood up slowly, my sword extended between me and a vampire. My hand shook under its weight. “What does it matter?” I breathed, “I’m helping you.” My eyes narrowed as I watched him step slowly toward me.

  He was a little smaller than Marcus. His hair was blonde and kept short above the ears. His eyes were red—darker somehow than Marcus's or Raymose’s ever were—and they were fixed on me.

  I took a step back from him. I could hear my heart beat over the roars around me. I was terrified, and by the look on his face, he knew it.

  “You’re human!” he hissed sharply, a sound of disgust coming off his tongue. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “I can smell your blood . . .” His eyes popped open. “It’s not possible!” His lips peeled back, baring his teeth.

  I jumped back, my sword raised higher now.

  His head jerked around like a snake trying to decide where to strike. I gripped my sword tighter. Sweat began to drip from my forehead as he circled around me. I moved with him, joining in on the deadly dance.

  “You’re a . . . werewolf!” He snarled, the sound almost feral.

  “NO!” I shook my head.

  “You lie! I can smell you.” He looked at me as if I were something dangerous and should to be killed instantly.

  “Do not touch her, Javen!”

  “Raymose,” the vampire spoke with such venom, the words nearly spat from his mouth. “She’s human . . . and wolf! She should not be alive!” he hissed.

  “She’s Luther’s daughter and is therefore protected!” Raymose announced as he asserted himself between us, extending his sword. “You will not touch her.”

  “She is not Luther’s daughter,” The vampire hissed. “I watched her die!” His words were cold and unfeeling. Something about them struck me.

  “I’m warning you Javen. She is not to be harmed.” Raymose’s tone was deadly. I shivered at the fierceness of it.

  “It’s treachery to protect her!” Javen snarled, inching closer to us.

  “It’s treacherous not to!” Raymose roared. “She is your sister!”

  The words echoed through my head. My mouth hung open as I stared at Javen in disbelief. “I have a brother?” I gasped. I hadn’t remembered that . . . why?

  “You are not my sister,” he hissed. “My sister was no werewolf!”

  I didn’t know what to say. I stood there, speechless. I had a brother?

  “She is your sister,” Raymose growled. “And you will protect her as such!”

  “No! She’s nothing more than a rabid dog,” he spat, staring angrily into my eyes.

  Raymose hissed protectively. “You think you can get past me, boy?” Raymose’s words were sharp, yet taunting.

  Javen’s eyes narrowed, deliberating his next move. By the look on his face, I could tell he’d been waiting for this moment for a very, very, long time. He grinned.

  “Raymose.” I reached out and gripped his arm tightly—he held me back behind him. Javen took a step closer, his teeth clenched.

  “Please, I’m only trying to help you,” I begged.

  Javen ignored my pleas, focusing only on Raymose. His smile was sinister. “Luther will have your head for this . . . and I’ll have hers.”


  Raymose pushed me back abruptly, just as Javen lunged for him. I landed several yards away. I scooted back, cowering on the ground as the two vampires fought viciously over me. Their bodies collided into one another with the force of giant boulders. Raymose, who always managed to keep Javen a safe distance from me, was clearly the better fighter.

  I was so focused on their fight, that I didn’t notice Damen until he’d grabbed my arm and yanked me off the ground violently. He had his arms around my waist and had thrown me over his shoulder before I could protest.

  “Put me down!” I screamed

  “Are you crazy? You’ll be killed.” He growled under his breath as he ran with great speed through the chaos. “Javen wants your blood more than anyone.”

  “What do you care?” I shouted over my shoulder. I tried to hit him with the back of the sword, as I kicked my legs, trying to free myself.

  “You were foolish to come,” he snarled, ignoring my attempts to break free.

  “Damen, let me go—and why are you naked again?”

  He laughed a loud throaty laugh as he continued to run away from the fight with his bounty—I wasn’t getting away.

  We’d just cleared the edge of the battlefield when a sudden blow hit us in the side, knocking Damen off his feet and into the air. I screamed out in agony as his body crushed mine against a tree.

  A loud snarl, more menacing than I could have ever imagined ripped through the night. Marcus had Damen by the throat and had flung him over his shoulder with as much force as a wrecking ball smashing through a cement building—Damen had landed with as much grace, crashing into the ground.

  Marcus planted himself in front of me, crouched, ready for an attack.

  “Marcus,” I breathed.

  A deep growl slipped from behind Damen’s teeth. His eyes, a sinister shade of yellow, were fixed on Marcus. He roared—

  I covered my ears at the sound, shuddering as Damen transformed into a werewolf.

  My eyes searched the ground frantically, looking for my sword . . . there it was, just a few feet away . . . I didn’t dare move toward it.

  Marcus was already in the air before Damen had managed to get a foot off the ground. He collided with Damen again, shoving him back into a large tree trunk, smashing it to bits. The treetop came crashing down around them, trapping them between its large, tangled branches.

  I dove for my sword. My fingers just barely touched the handle when Damen broke through the branches—my heart fell as he ran at me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact—I screamed, horrified. Blood was spewing everywhere. I scooted back along the ground. A loud yelp pierced my ears. Marcus had Damen by the shoulder, his teeth embedded into his skin, dragging him away from me.

  Damen fought like a rabid dog, growling and snarling viciously. He kept trying to maneuver his way back to me. He rammed Marcus in the gut with such tremendous force; I didn’t know how he had the strength to get up. It was worse than any street brawl I could have imagined.

  I kept jumping out of the way, but Marcus managed to thwart Damen’s efforts every time he came near me. It was a horrific sight to watch. I held my stomach tightly, hoping not to get sick. I didn’t want to see Marcus this way—bloodied and merciless.

  Damen roared, ripping himself out from under Marcus’s bite. He flew at me again, his teeth coming inches from my throat. I jumped back, falling over my feet.

  “Phoebe run!” Marcus yelled as he held Damen tightly around the neck—I could see blood dripping from his mouth. “Run!”

  I turned away from them and began running. The fighting was everywhere. There was no escape route. Wolves came at me from every direction. I swung at them, not paying attention if I’d killed them or just wounded them. I kept on moving forward through the death and noise. I must have run around in circles. I could see Marcus running toward me through the smoke—yelling my name. I turned around just in time to see Damen rushing at me, his teeth bared. I swung my sword and caught him with the tip right across the chest—his blood splattered across my face.

  He screamed out in pain as he fell backward onto the ground.

  I ran. I didn’t care where I ran, just so it was far away from here. I wasn’t strong; I wasn’t the Phoebe they thought I was, the Phoebe I wanted to be.

  The sky was getting lighter now. I choked on the smoke that hung low in the air. The torches had caught several trees on fire. Flames and smoke filled the valley floor. I’d ran up a small embankment, my fingers digging into the dirt, hoping to get away from all the noise and fighting. I stopped just at the top—my mouth gaping open.

  “Aidric!” I whispered aloud. It couldn’t be anyone else. He was massive, just like Marcus had said. He looked like a gladiator, a block of muscle and strength, considerably larger than Luther. As for me . . . his leg was bigger than I was.

  He had shoulder length brown hair that hung loosely around his face. His face was hard looking, yet . . . beautiful! He didn’t look much older than Luther. His features were sharp and enhanced by his yellow eyes.

  He hadn’t seen me. I squatted down behind a fallen tree, my eyes just peering over the top as I watched him for a moment. He was beating his fist on a boulder. Pieces of the rock were breaking off around it.

  I glanced back down at the battlefield. The vampires were pushing the werewolves back. Somehow, they’d gained the advantage.

  Luther! He was off his horse, slaying the wolves himself! Fighting alongside his men—he was amazing. The strength and determination on his face left little room for doubt that he’d ask nothing less of his men than he was willing to do himself. I was proud to be his daughter.

  I pried my eyes away, looking back to Aidric. He was growling at the wolves around him. They cowered as he ranted.

  “No,” I breathed out loud. I put my hand up to my mouth, not trusting myself to remain quiet. I crouched lower to the ground. I understood him! Just as I’d understood Damen. This had all been a trap to lure Luther out into the open, away from the safety of the coven where Aidric could kill him. He didn’t need me like Damen thought. I’d have simply been a pawn, icing on the cake, as Aidric enjoyed the torment Luther would have endured at his daughter’s death—no doubt slowly with great pain before his eyes.

  The wolves hadn’t been able to find me, but it was of no consequence now. I’d have been the backup plan, which was no longer needed since Luther had so gallantly joined his comrades in arms. He was prime for the taking—and who better to secure that victory than Aidric. I could see the lust in his eyes as he glowered at Luther with untold hatred.

  I looked back to my father, watching him for a moment. He moved so lithely, effortless slaying the vicious beasts that attacked him and his men. I couldn’t let him die! If I could get to him before Aidric and warn him . . . I’m sure he’d forgive Marcus for keeping me from him . . . for loving me the way I am. He had to! If Luther died, there’d be no stopping Aidric from killing the others. Raymose, Richard, Marcus . . . not my Marcus!

  I could feel my blood start to boil at the thought of Luther’s death. I slid back down the hill, into the smoke, into the fighting. I had to run fast if I was going to get to Luther before Aidric did. All wounds I’d incurred—forgotten as I pushed my body to run hard. My heartbeat sounded like thunder, like a drum hammering, readying the troops for battle. It drowned out all other noise.

  I ran to Luther as if he and I were the only soldiers on the battlefield. I pushed past the brawls, past the snapping teeth, past the small fires that threatened to spread, with such speed and determination—I felt unstoppable.

  My eyes were fixed on Luther. I held my sword tight in my hand as I ran toward him.

  Aidric’s body flashed by out the corner of my eye—only he wasn’t in his human form any longer—he was a massive gray wolf. A shadow of a memory Damen had given me confirmed who he was.

  My mouth had gone dry. Aidric’s muscles flexed as he covered the ground at a rapid speed. I didn’t know how I managed to
keep up with him. We moved as if we were in sync. Like a flock of birds, one moving with the other. But unless one of us stopped, Aidric and I were going to collide—Luther being the point of collision. There was no avoiding it, but I couldn’t let that happen. I ignored the burn in my legs as I cried out, pushing my body forward.

  The rest happened so quickly . . .

  I glanced from Aidric to Luther, who looked alarmed as he saw me running at him, sword in hand.

  Luther’s head snapped to his right, his teeth barred. Aidric was approaching him fast. Luther looked back to me, fear flashing in his eyes. He must have seen the resolve in mine, and as I lifted my sword higher, he roared. “NO!”

  “PHOEBE NO!” Marcus's voice reverberated all around me, making Luther’s scream almost a whisper.

  I couldn’t stop. I dove through the air, managing to get to Aidric before he reached Luther. I could hear the violent roar of pain as my sword cut through his middle. He pulled my body to his—razor sharp claws slicing through me—I screamed out in agony. Our bodies intertwining as we soared through the air, landed in a violent heap amongst the charred ground.

  Aidric’s body lay lifeless across mine. I cried out as I struggled to push him off me. I pulled myself up, and with great effort, I pulled my sword from his middle, blood dripping from the blade. The world spun around me. I used my sword like a cane and leaned on it heavily—it was the only thing holding me upright.

  I looked around, my eyes settling on Luther. He was standing not far from me, looking too stunned to move. He stared at me with his blood red eyes—I wasn’t afraid. I felt myself smiling—he was alive!

  He bowed his head slightly to me.

  “Phoebe—”

  I turned my head to see Marcus running toward me. His feet slowed as he neared. His expression: horrified.

  I smiled widely at him. I took three slow steps toward him, dragging my sword along the ground behind me. I felt the handle slip through my fingertips as I staggered forward another step. I stared into Marcus's crimson eyes as I felt myself falling . . .

  “Noooo!” He caught me before my face hit the ground. He flipped my body over, cradling my head in his lap. I could feel his cool hands on my face. “Darling . . . what have you done?”

  “Marcus, there’s too much blood.” I barely recognized Raymose’s voice. It sounded so strained. So unlike his own.

  I looked long at Marcus's face. I could see him forcing a smile for me as he gently pushed back the hair from my forehead. He looked as though his heart had been torn from his chest.

  “I saved him . . . I saved Luther . . .you’re safe now Marcus.” I choked on the blood in my mouth. “You don’t . . . have to worry . . . any longer. He’ll forgive you . . . for not . . . telling him . . . about me. I know he will.”

  “Yes Darling.”

  I sputtered, spitting the blood from my lips. My time was nearing its end. “Marcus,” I choked. “I release you . . . from your promise.”

  His eyes met mine. “Phoebe?” His voice was shaky.

  I reached up and touched his angel-like face, smearing blood across his cheek as I did so. “It’s alright,” I breathed heavily. “I’ll find you again . . . I swear it.” My hand fell with a thud from his face.

  “NO! Not like this! You’re not going to leave me again, do you hear me?” he demanded, shaking me violently.

  My eyes struggled to stay open. I could barely focus on his image any longer.

  “Phoebe, don’t leave me. I won’t live this life without you . . . I’m begging you!” He wailed as he rocked my limp body back and forth against his.

  I felt him lift me up into the safety of his arms. He held me tightly to his chest. I could smell the familiar scent of his skin as I inhaled shallow breaths of him. A sudden feeling of peace engulfed me.

  “Marcus, you have to let her go; there is nothing you can do for her now,” Raymose spoke softly.

  “Don’t touch her!” Marcus hissed, holding me closer still. “I won’t let her die!” I could hear the pain in his voice. He was desperate. I didn’t have the strength to sooth him.

  “She’s already dying Sir.” Richard spoke now. The devastation in his voice was unmistakable—his heart was breaking too.

  “I’ll make this right!” Marcus thundered. “Not heaven or hell will keep us apart again.”

  “Marcus you can’t!” Raymose’s words were absolute.

  Marcus growled. “You forget, Raymose . . . she is not your responsibility. She’s mine!”

  “My son,” Luther’s voice, although thick with sorrow, was like music to my heart. “Let me care for her.”

  “No.” Marcus stepped back, shielding me from them. “I will make this right. I won’t lose her again.”

  I could feel Marcus running with me in his arms. Cool air suddenly whipped past my face. We were flying. I wasn’t afraid to fly anymore. I wasn’t afraid of anything.

  “Phoebe, stay with me; you’ve got to stay with me.” Marcus's voice shook with panic. He held me so very close to him. I could feel the moisture from my chest freezing against my skin. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t cold any longer.

  My heartbeat was slowing. My eyelids . . . they’d never felt so heavy.

  “Marcus . . .”

  “Just a little farther Darling, hang on. I’m going to get you to a doctor.”

  “Marcus . . .” I breathed. I looked up into his beautiful face and smiled. “Can you still hear our hearts?”

  He hugging me tighter. “Yes, my love, I can hear them. They beat very softly . . .”

  I took a breath. I knew I was taking him in for the last time, letting his essence encircle me. My eyes fell shut. All pain melting away . . .

  “NO! PHOEBE!” Marcus's scream sounded like a distant whisper floating across the wind.

  I felt my body jerk as a sharp stabbing pain attacked my neck. It lasted only moments and then, nothing . . .

  ###

  Time Line & Characters Information

  *War Between Vampires & Werewolves began in 1012

  *Marcus Ashworth: Vampire, leader of the Moon Hunters, and Phoebe’s husband

  1260- year of birth; England

  1286- became a vampire

  1287- appointed leader of the newly-formed Moon Hunters

  1288- married Phoebe.

  *Phoebe: Half human, half werewolf, has a past life; current age: 23.

  1142- year of birth; Romania

  1177- became a vampire

  1299- year of death

  *Richard: werewolf

  1379- year of birth; England

  *Raymose: vampire.

  1086- year of birth; England

  1114- became a vampire

  *Damen Balfour: werewolf

  1111- year of birth; Scotland

  1147- became a werewolf

  1152- assigned to protect Phoebe

  *Luther: Leader of vampires and Phoebe’s father

  year of birth estimated around 30 BC