Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2

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Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2 Page 9

by Daniel De Lorne


  “By the hairy ass of Christ, are you all right?”

  He tensed as a strong hand gripped his upper arm and pulled him upright, the comatose man tumbling off him with all the grace of a cow falling down a hill. Hame grunted, and quickly dusted himself off.

  “It’s you.” Hazel eyes widened. “I didn’t expect you to still be around.”

  Hame stammered over some words that were meant as an excuse to leave, but before he could remove himself from the taverner’s hold, he was shepherded inside with promises of a drink.

  The taverner seated him at a bench, brought him some ale, then went off to attend to the other patrons. Left alone, Hame thought he could slip away, but the man caught—and held—his eye. Hame’s cheeks blushed, and he stopped looking for an escape.

  The taverner laughed with the other men, a deep throaty sound that made his Adam’s apple jounce. His arms swelled, no doubt from weeks and months of rolling barrels and carrying three tankards in each of his big hands, and his shoulders flexed as he bent to deliver one such load to a table.

  Gods, what would it be like to be held in those arms?

  Warmth spread from his belly—and it had nothing to do with the ale.

  One by one the men left, and finally he was alone. The taverner cleared away the empty cups and wiped the tables before returning to Hame and nodding at the tankard in his hand.

  “Do you want another?”

  Hame drained it, then dried his mouth with the back of his hand. He shook his head as he set the cup on the table. Ale often made men courageous, but he must have been drinking from a dud batch. His gaze flicked to the taverner’s crotch.

  Somewhere a barrel dripped into its own puddle.

  “Or is there something else you want?”

  He froze—caught out—but then thick fingers brushed underneath his chin and tilted it up. Eyes bent level with his, searching…for something. His smile broadened.

  Then the taverner kissed him.

  Skilled lips kneaded against his. The soft-yet-hard touch encouraged his timid desire to unfurl in a hot breath through his body. He moaned and pressed harder against that delicious mouth and growled when it retreated. The taverner sniggered and pulled him up from his bench before kissing him again.

  Big hands slid up Hame’s torso and massaged his chest, greedy and grinding. A savage ache spread from the friction against his nipples, but Hame didn’t care. He pulled off the taverner’s shirt, quickly following with his own. Feral lust slammed them together like two sparring bulls—muscle crashing against muscle—and their pelvises ground together until his rigid cock throbbed.

  Harsh teeth on Hame’s neck extracted a gasp as pleasure racked through his body—such a simple thing, but God, how he wanted more. Teeth bit him again and he pushed forward with his hips. Weakened and dizzy, he lolled when the taverner—a man whose name he didn’t even know—withdrew. He didn’t fight when the rest of his clothes were torn from him and his cock sprang free. That gorgeous mouth grinned wide at seeing his hard shaft then gripped it in his rough, hot palm, jolting fire against his most sensitive flesh. He threw his head back as all sensation localized in his groin, then he pressed his brow against the taverner’s shoulder, unable to support himself any longer, gasping as he pumped him.

  “That feels so good,” Hame grunted, gripping the strong arm milking him, wanting him to stop, wanting him to keep going. The taverner’s thumb grazed his head and his vision shattered.

  A rustle of clothes and the taverner stood naked and erect. Hame reached out to touch, wanting to feel the man’s cock, but he was spun round and forced forward over the table. Determined hands gripped his ass and spread his cheeks, and spit landed on the cleft and slid down. The head of the taverner’s fat cock rubbed against the puckered opening, making his hole clench and release.

  Then he thrust forward.

  Hame bucked against the pain, trying to pull away from the branding iron forcing its way through his innards, but a heavy chest pinned him in place. Lips touched the bare skin of his back, and the stranger shoved into him, inch by painful inch.

  He sucked in his breath, clenched his eyes shut. “It hurts.”

  “It’ll pass.” Hot breath burned against his ear. “Then you’ll really like it.”

  He doubted it. Not with this fire tunneling through him. He took hold of himself—not surprised to find he’d gone soft—but stroked until his erection returned to distract his mind from the pain. A tingling stirred in his groin, like a glow in the ashes of a dying hearth, and he started to move. The pain faded until finally the taverner slid in and out with ease.

  Hame’s body rocked with their motion, the pounding igniting him. Then the strongest, hardest charge struck something deep that forced his mouth open, only for nothing to emerge. What he felt was so intimate that it was beyond sound—and he wanted to feel it again. He pushed back against the taverner, who laughed, then penetrated him again, hitting that spot so hard his legs buckled. Only the iron arm around his waist kept him from falling.

  He moaned with each plunge and withdrawal. His body hummed, starting in his toes and rising up his legs, a strong swirl in his groin—oh God, yes, harder—and then up his chest, higher and higher. The feeling was so vital it made him aware of what was happening at that very second, of the slap of masculine skin against his, of the rough fingers digging into his hips, the heat of a man’s breath on his neck, and the way the taverner reached so far inside him—all of it brought together into one crystalline second. The knot tightened in his balls, threatening to unravel him until finally he could hold it no longer. His toes curled, his ass tensed, and he came with a prolonged grunt, shooting onto the floor as the taverner released into him.

  But Hame was given no reprieve as his shuddering body shook his mind free and a vision grabbed him.

  And violence and horror lay waste to his ecstasy.

  XVI

  The dream’s lust forced Aurelia awake. She summoned a light in the hut, confirming what she already knew. Hame’s bed lay empty, the blankets cold. Not wanting to see the truth, but needing to, she rose and crossed to the table. She looked into the scrying bowl and searched for him.

  She jerked back, casting aside the scene she’d witnessed, but though she no longer scried for him he didn’t leave her thoughts. She turned for the door and sat outside on the grass, gazing up at the stars. For all the peace in the world that night, her hands shook, and her eyes stung.

  I will not cry!

  She held back the tears, and fire roared inside her head. She wanted to destroy the hut. She wanted to kill the taverner, beat Hame, hurt any who came near her. How dare he hold her close and make her believe she was loved?

  The screams jostled inside her throat. If she let them out, she’d likely set the whole forest ablaze, so she pushed them down until her throat eased. A cold breeze blew through the trees, and the uncaring stars glared down at her.

  Pre-dawn light stirred her from wide-eyed slumber as she stared into a nothing that gradually took on shape. Eventually, one of those shapes became Hame, ambling through the undergrowth, his head down.

  “Did you have fun?” The acid in her voice scoured her heart.

  He jumped then must have seen the look on her face. He sighed. “I’m sorry, Aurelia. I didn’t—”

  She batted away his excuses. “Don’t.”

  He sat next to her. Heat radiated from his body, and she remembered seeing the sweat coursing down his back as the taverner —

  She wriggled away from him, putting distance between her and the memory.

  “Do I disgust you that much?”

  “What?” She thought she’d already been given all of the night’s surprises, but it seemed there were still a few more to leap out at her.

  “Do I disgust you?”

  “You think I have a problem because it was a man you fucked?” Her voice raised an octave.

  He didn’t say anything, but his glare was enough of an accusation.

  “You r
eally are blind, aren’t you?” she spat and pushed to her feet. She hastened inside for no other reason than she wanted to get away from him. Any minute now she’d travel back to Elaine and then her mother could deal with him from now on.

  But she didn’t go.

  She couldn’t.

  He entered after her.

  “Do you love him?” she asked, her voice timid and low.

  “I don’t know. This is all new to me.”

  She scoffed. “New? Don’t lie.” She turned to see his face darken.

  “I swear to you, I had no idea. I’ve never thought about it, never had the chance.”

  “Then all my blessings on you both,” she growled, sweeping past him.

  He grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave, Aurelia. I need you. There’s work we have to do. Together.”

  “You’re wrong. You don’t need me. You don’t want me.” Her voice cracked.

  “I need you more than I need some man.”

  She laughed. Memories of how Thierry and Etienne used to look at each other splashed across her mind. “I’ve seen all this before. I’ve seen what love does to people, and how it destroys them. I’m just glad I realized before it was too late.”

  His grip loosened; his mournful eyes desperate for some solace she couldn’t give. She hurried to the door.

  “I had a vision.”

  She stopped. It was one of only two things he could have said to make her stay. She wished it were the other.

  She sighed. “You’ve had them before.”

  “Not like this. It was powerful, and it came to me when—”

  She winced.

  “I think I can control them,” he said quickly, “but that’s not what’s important. It was about your mother.”

  “What about her?”

  He paused. “She’s going to die.”

  And with those four small words, her world stopped. Everything turned to stone. Elaine’s dying was not a possibility.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I’m not,” he said, coming to her.

  With her hands pulled back to her chest, ready to push him away, she exited the hut. She stumbled as she turned but righted herself. He called for her to stop, but she kept going. He couldn’t be right. He’d said it to hurt her.

  But why would he want to do that?

  Because he wants me gone.

  Then he’d be free to fuck whomever he wanted and not have to see the pain on her face.

  To hell with him.

  She’d leave him behind. She prepared herself to travel, hovering on the edge, when he took hold of her arm. The shock released her power, and they both shuttled through the ether. His grasp was the only thing that kept him from being thrown off, and if he’d fallen during the journey, she didn’t know what would have become of him. When they landed outside Elaine’s lair, her arm throbbed. He swayed on his feet, her body the only thing stopping him from pitching forward. She threw him off, and he hit the dirt.

  He coughed and rolled onto his back, scrunching his eyes shut. His face paled. She ground her teeth, but it didn’t stop her guilt.

  She bent and put her arm underneath his shoulder, helping him to sit. She wasn’t forgiving him but seeing him so poorly and not doing anything to ease his suffering left a bitter taste in her mouth. As she steadied him, her mother’s voice shot out of the tunnel.

  “Why are you here?” Lines ran deep across Elaine’s brow.

  “Mother, I—”

  “I had to speak with you,” Hame said. “Can we go inside? I need something to drink.”

  Elaine shot Aurelia a look, but it wasn’t the one she expected. She’d been prepared for an interrogation and a thorough dissection of her failure. Instead, she saw…apprehension.

  Hame put his weight on her hand, distracting her, and the moment passed. They entered the tunnel and the sense of gloom infected her. What if Hame had told her the truth?

  XVII

  Aurelia guided Hame to a chair in the kitchen, then rested her hand on his shoulder. Though she hadn’t forgotten about the taverner, there were now more important things to worry about than her heart’s sick desperation. He placed his hand over hers, and his touch hushed her jittering nerves.

  Elaine brought a cup of water, which he downed in one gulp. “You’re here because you’ve seen my future.”

  Aurelia’s stomach shriveled and copper crystallized across her tongue.

  “You know this already?” he replied.

  Elaine chewed her cheek before speaking. “I had some idea.”

  How could her mother be so calm? “That’s all you have to say? We have to fight this.”

  “No, it’s necessary,” Elaine said flatly.

  “How could your death be of any use to us?” Aurelia’s nails gouged into her palms.

  “This has to happen,” her mother said.

  “Why show us the future if we can’t change it?”

  “I know this is hard—”

  “What do you know about it? You’ve already left me behind once before; I expect this will be easy for you.” Her words were unfair, but she wanted more of a reaction than this resignation.

  Elaine’s shoulders tensed. “Nothing is harder than leaving you. But it is a sacrifice that I—that we—must make. I’m not strong enough to defeat Xadrak here. He grows more powerful and will draw others to his cause. I need to battle him where we are evenly matched.”

  “If you die, you will become just like him. I don’t want some demon. I want my mother here on this plane, not floating around like some ghost in the great beyond.”

  Elaine’s eyes leaked pity, and Hame’s hand pressed against hers. But neither fought. Two people she loved—lost in one day. How could they accept this?

  She allowed Elaine to embrace her, and gradually she unwound enough to hold her as well, relishing and memorizing the feeling of her mother’s body—real, human and here—before she pulled away.

  “Come, I have something to give you both.”

  Elaine tired of being strong, but she persevered for Aurelia’s sake. What good was weeping when she could not change what had to happen? Hame’s stiff confirmation of Loic’s prophecy chilled her. The boy’s concern for her death stopped at the damage it would cause Aurelia. She wanted to sneer at him but couldn’t deny her gratitude that he would be there to care for her daughter.

  She’d have to give him the gift as well.

  She instructed Hame to wait while she led Aurelia down the tunnel and into her sanctuary. Candles burst alight when they entered. She positioned Aurelia on one side of the raised altar while she stood on the other.

  “What are we doing here?” Aurelia’s eyes took in the objects on top of the altar.

  “I am giving you that which I cannot have for myself. I am giving you an eternity.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “You must. I don’t know how long our mission is going to take.”

  “I refuse. You’ll just have to stay here and do it yourself.”

  Aurelia wouldn’t have any success in bargaining out of this. With time, she hoped her daughter would understand why.

  “Aurelia, please. I don’t want to die. I have had this same magic cast upon me, but I know, and the oracle knows, I am not meant to remain here forever. Please help me.”

  Sadly, immortality meant only longevity, not immunity. A dagger through the heart would still end her life. Only her sons enjoyed that kind of resistance.

  “If I don’t, then what?”

  “Then my death will be for nothing.”

  “But—”

  “There are no ‘buts’ in this. I will die. You will remain. This is your path, and I have mine.”

  “You don’t know what you ask of me.”

  Pieces of her heart peeled away, a tearing that balled her hands. “I do, and I’m sorry for it. I know this is not what you want. This is not what I want either. But Xadrak is poisoning the astral. He will corrupt witches in this world, and he will eventually conquer it
unless we stop him.”

  His power could be channeled through others. Her daughter would have to bloody herself slaying whomever Xadrak drew to him.

  Aurelia didn’t speak, but the righteous sorrow in her eyes spoke volumes.

  Hugs won’t fix that, Sinara’s voice sighed inside her head.

  “Please give me your hand.” Elaine picked up the dagger from the altar and positioned the chalice in the center.

  At first Aurelia didn’t move, and Elaine’s temples burned. She could only be patient for so long and deny her own rage in the face of this inevitability. None of this was fair, but that was the way of the world. She tightened her hold on the dagger’s hilt.

  Eventually, a trembling hand raised and lay wrist-up in hers.

  Looking into Aurelia’s eyes, she gazed into a mirror. The same determination lurked behind the fear. Aurelia was hers, through and through.

  She touched the blade’s tip to her daughter’s wrist and took a deep breath.

  “Blood is the key to everything.”

  Aurelia flinched when her skin split beneath the blade and hissed at the cut’s sting. Elaine turned her wrist and a few drops of blood dripped into the chalice before she was released.

  Her mother spoke an incantation containing simple words Aurelia hurriedly committed to memory. Elaine pointed the wand skywards and raised her power. The room buzzed and the air became laden with orange blossom. Aurelia breathed shallowly as the power intensified.

  Elaine aimed the wand at the chalice, and with a shouted word, green light fired from the tip of the wand and ignited the blood. Aurelia jumped back, raising an arm to protect herself as purple, blue and red light rose from the mouth of the cup. Coalescing around themselves, they reached higher and higher until their tips brushed the ceiling.

  “Vita aeterna!” Elaine roared.

  The three tongues of flame tightened into one beam, then lashed out and shot towards Aurelia, attacking so fast that she screamed. It delved into her open mouth and filled her, permeating throughout her body until it was all in her, like a snake that had slithered into its burrow. She reached out to steady herself and looked at her mother, expecting her to be pleased the working was done.

 

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