Claim of the Vampire: A Vampire Romance (Blood Brotherhood Book 5)

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Claim of the Vampire: A Vampire Romance (Blood Brotherhood Book 5) Page 9

by ML Guida


  Yet.

  Leif would find a way to save Isabella, even if he had to fly into hell to win her back.

  “Transform, ye bilge scum.” Kirkland grabbed Gwen’s breast, squeezing hard.

  Gwen cried out, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Leave me alone!”

  The bastard would maul her right in front of Leif and then toss her to the others. Lust flickered in their shining eyes.

  Isabella slid off his back and petted his neck, her soft hands trembling. “Transform, Leif.” Defeat hung heavy in her small voice. “I promised I would not allow anything happen to your sister, and I meant it.” She held her head high as if she were in the royal court. “’Tis me you want, fool. Let the girl go.”

  “You’re in no position to bargain,” Palmer said.

  “No?” She nodded her head toward Leif. “I have a dragon who can take me to safety at any time. You’d lose your prize, Palmer. Do you really want to face Zuto empty handed?”

  A shadow of fear flickered in Palmer’s eyes then vanished, but he wasn’t fooling Leif. Zuto was a cruel and heavy-handed master. Disappointment was met with punishment, punishment that made even Palmer think twice about deceiving him.

  “We have an accord. Kirkland, lower your blade.”

  Kirkland slowly lowered the blade, but he didn’t move away from Gwen.

  Palmer glared. “Change, dragon.” But he didn’t look at Leif. He watched Isabella to see if she would go back on her word.

  Leif obeyed, his dragon body shrinking, bones and muscles changing from a proud dragon to a beaten man. He hung his head, looking through his thick strands at Isabella’s beautiful face. A face that turned as hard as granite and twice as determined.

  Gwen blinked at his nakedness, and confusion clouded her eyes, but he didn’t care about the niceties. All he cared about was Isabella, but he couldn’t let Palmer know, or Palmer would use it against her.

  Leif stared at Isabella, trying to digest what the foolish little woman had done. She was sacrificing herself to save Gwen, allowing him to escape the heart-wrenching choice of which one of them to save, which one would die. He’d never seen anything like this, not on the Fiery Damsel, not in the bloody fields of Killiecrankie back in Scotland. All he’d ever known was men saving their own skins.

  The selflessness stirred a feeling he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t name, but it was there churning in his gut, sending his heart racing. He tried to comprehend that she’d done something no black-souled, self-serving pirate would ever dream of doing. And if she’d done this, it meant her loathing for pirates had lessened. Or was he just fooling himself? But she had cared enough for him to offer her life in exchange for his sister’s freedom.

  Chapter 12

  The last thing Isabella wanted to do was to walk over to Palmer and be his prisoner once again. She’d rather run through the jungle and disappear into the sea forever, never to see his ugly, leering face again.

  The nagging fear that she was pregnant rose its ugly head again. She shook her head. No, ’twas not possible. She was barren.

  The sunlight glittered off the knife in Kirkland’s large hand. He was no longer pressing it against the woman’s neck, but he’d already hurt her. The purple bruise on her cheek was in sharp contrast to her pearly skin. If Isabella didn’t keep her word, Palmer would do worse to the girl than just have her beaten.

  She cared too much about Leif to allow him to experience such an unbearable pain. He’d suffered so much and risked so much for her. She took a step, but Leif grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

  His heart beat as wildly as hers. She leaned against him, needing to feel his strength. Eagerness swelled inside her. Maybe he’d discover a way to save all of them so she wouldn’t have to go back onto the dreaded ship and be locked in her cell away from the sunshine and the sea. She wet her lips, ready to grab his sister and jump on his back when he turned into a dragon. “Leif, what are you doing?”

  He raised his head. Hatred burned in his green eyes, but he didn’t look at her. He glared at Palmer. “Gwen, first. Or I’ll fly out of here, and you’ll greet Zuto without your prize.”

  Palmer spit onto the sand. “Getting pretty haughty, Black.”

  Men cocked their pistols, aiming them at Leif, but Palmer stopped them with a sinister smile and a languid wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, mates, Zuto will knock him down to lizard size.”

  Isabella swallowed the bitterness burning in her throat, and she slumped. Her legs trembled. ’Twas so easy for him to cast her aside, just like her father had, just like every man she’d ever met. Tears threatened to fall, but she pushed them back, determined not to let him, or Palmer, or anyone, know how much he’d hurt her. How he’d ripped her heart out as if it were naught but a thorn in his side.

  “Do we have a deal, Palmer? Or do you insist on making your master wait?”

  Palmer curled his lip into a sneer. “He’s your master, too.” He sounded like a greenhorn cabin boy justifying why he’d followed a drunken captain rather than making a break for it. “Aye, ye bastard, we have a deal.”

  Isabella thought Leif would shove her to get to his sister, but he whirled her around and kissed her desperately on the lips, crashing the life out of her lungs. She was too astonished to kiss him back.

  He whispered in her ear, “Fight to survive. No matter what happens, I will find you.”

  Leif released her so fast that she could barely fill her lungs with air. He dropped his hands and clasped her jaw. It all happened so quickly the kiss, his promise—her head was spinning. She touched her bruised lips and looked into his eyes to see if there was any warmth or tenderness and determine whether he really meant what he had said, but she saw only coldness. She wasn’t even sure he had spoken. His voice had been so soft it could have been foolish wishful thinking.

  Palmer snorted, breaking her thoughts. “Do you want your sister or not, Black?”

  “At the same time,” Leif said.

  “Agreed.”

  Leif turned to her. “Go ahead, Isabella.” His commanding voice held none of the warmth and caring it had just held. She wrinkled her brow, but when he tilted his head, she faced Palmer, hoping her shaking legs wouldn’t betray her and collapse, letting everyone know the terror rotting inside her.

  Not wanting to look at Leif and give into her fear, she tilted her head, pushed back her shoulders, and like a good soldier, walked toward Palmer. At the same time, Leif’s sister left Palmer’s side. As they passed, Leif’s sister mouthed, “I’m sorry.” How could she think it was her fault? Zuto held the winning dice, and they all had lost.

  When Gwen was almost near him, Leif snatched her and pulled her close. Palmer wasn’t known for keeping his word. He flashed Jackman a nod, and Jackman acknowledged. He edged toward Isabella, Kirkland, and Palmer. Whatever happened, Leif took some solace in knowing he had an ally on the ship who would watch over Isabella. He just hoped she would forgive him for what he was about to do.

  “Take care, Isabella,” he said. He wanted to burn the sneering smile off Palmer’s lips, but he had to save Gwen. He prayed Zuto’s command and Jackman’s fierceness was enough to keep Isabella safe.

  “She’ll be dead,” Kirkland mumbled. He spat on the ground, splattering tobacco all over Jackman’s black boot. ’Twas a mistake.

  “Ye clumsy oaf,” Jackman said and elbowed the man in the nose. Blood spurted into the air, and Kirkland landed flat on his back, cursing.

  Unlike what he saw on the Soaring Phoenix, his crew was constantly at war with each other. The only time they bonded together and protected each other was when they dealt with Zuto.

  Palmer turned his head, and that was when Leif transformed into a dragon. It happened so quickly that he knocked his sister onto the ground. A man reached for her, but Leif hissed, sending a stream of fire burning his hand. The man screamed, holding his hand, and disappeared into the thick jungle.

  Leif spread out his wings. Dust flew into the air, blinding the enc
roaching men. He hopped into the air and grabbed Gwen, clutching her shoulders tight. She cried out, her legs kicking in the air, but he ignored her and flew into the sky, his heart heavy. He didn’t want to turn around to see the loathing and fear in Isabella’s eyes. His first priority was getting Gwen to safety, and Tortuga was too far away if he wanted to get back to Isabella.

  He soared out to sea, hunting for the Soaring Phoenix’s black sails. Blue water stretched out all around, and he disappeared into the clouds. He’d no doubt that Palmer would send someone to follow them. If the eejit wanted to follow him to the Soaring Phoenix, then they’d soon meet a quick death.

  Something large and green flew toward him. William. He’d never been so glad to see the green dragon and only wished there was some place for them to land so he could hand over Gwen. She clasped his legs, but had stopped screaming and kicking her legs.

  “Oh, my god, ’tis another dragon,” she groaned.

  William wasn’t alone. Mariah was astride his back, the wind blowing her black hair. They flew next to them. She frowned, looking at Leif’s naked back and down at Gwen. “Mon Dieu, where is Isabella?”

  “They have her,” Gwen said. “Leif traded her for me.”

  William snorted fire and shook his head.

  Mariah scowled and kicked her heels into the dragon’s side. “S’il vous plaît, William, you are not helping.”

  If Leif was a man, he’d burst out laughing at the little witch scolding the pious blighter. Even in dragon form, William could be a judgmental, contemptible arse. Leif gnashed his teeth to keep from sizzling William’s scurvy hide. Did he actually think Leif had wanted to hand over the woman he cared most about in the world? The thought surprised him, and he’d need time to sort this out—a luxury he didn’t have.

  “Put me down, Leif,” Gwen yelled.

  “The poor girl,” Mariah said. “Follow us. The Phoenix is not far.”

  The Soaring Phoenix was sailing right beneath them as if she’d magically emerged from the ocean. Maybe she had. Mariah was a powerful witch and must have cast a spell, cloaking the small frigate. He followed William and Mariah back to the ship, but the closer he got, dread settled in his gut over the thought of explaining to Gwen, Mariah, William, and the rest of the crew why he willingly allowed Isabella to be Palmer’s prisoner. Captain O’Brien’s love for his woman was legendary, and he’d have died trying to protect Hannah, but William was a dragon, not a young, sweet girl.

  The crew of the Phoenix moved to the stern and the bow of the ship as he and William landed on the middle of the deck.

  Gwen scampered off the deck and put her hands on her slim hips, fire brewing in her green eyes. “What the hell happened to ye?” She flashed her gaze down between his legs as heat flushed her cheeks. “And why aren’t ye wearing any clothes?”

  Men were crowding around him, and his heart beat faster as he met his sister’s furious gaze. “’Tis not my choosin’ lass,” he said. “When I change from a dragon to a man or from a man to a dragon, I lose my clothes.” When she crossed her arms over her heaving chest, he glared. “I dinna make the rules. I dinna asked to be made a dragon.”

  “Neither did my brother,” Captain Kane O’Brien said, as he handed Leif a pair of breeches. “I’ll not have you walking around my ship, strutting in your glory.”

  Leif snatched the breeches. His hands and legs shook as he yanked them on. ’Twas as if everyone thought he liked prancing around like a naked ape.

  “Where’s Angelica’s sister, Black?”

  He froze as he tied up his trousers and sighed heavily. Ronan leaned against the mast, staring at him with contempt.

  “I promised Angelica nothing would happen to her sister,” Ronan said. “Angelica had such faith in you. I’d hate to break it to her that she was mistaken.”

  Leif met his hostile stare. “Isabella is the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Palmer wonna hurt her, not with Zuto promisin’ to gut any man who harms his prize.” He pointed toward his demure sister. “Not like my sister who canna protect herself.”

  “You daft, eejit,” Gwen said. Quicker than he thought possible, she snatched a blade out of pirate’s baldric. In one fluid motion, she’d pressed the blade underneath his chin. “I’m not weak. Donna ever make that mistake again—dragon.”

  “Gwen,” he said, his voice slow and steady, “where did you learn how to use a blade? I left you—”

  “Aye, you left us to get drunk and never came back.” She glared. “We were vulnerable, Leif. The streets of London werena kind. I convinced Grace to leave London and sail for Tortuga for a better life. But I was wrong. ’Tis been no better than London.”

  He frowned, not wanting to think what his sisters had to do to survive. “But I sent you money, jewels.”

  She laughed cynically. The hollowness in her once-sweet laughter whittled away at his steadfast belief that he’d kept them safe, away from Palmer, Zuto, and this endless nightmare.

  “Aye, you did, but word of your gifts moved fast on the streets, no matter how hard we tried to keep it secret. I canna tell you how many times we were threatened and robbed. We were Scottish, we were the enemy.” She braced her shoulders back and stuffed the blade into her trousers.

  “Hey, that’s mine,” the pirate said, as he reached for his weapon.

  Kane held up his palm. “Leave her be, mate.”

  The man frowned and grumbled under his breath, but he obeyed his captain. The difference being he did so out of respect, while Palmer’s men obeyed out of fear.

  Gwen looked at Kane in awe and bowed slightly. “Thank you, Captain. Palmer took mine.” Her eyes narrowed into a deathly glare. “He soon learned I am not easy prey. He took my blade at a price.”

  Hannah strolled up next to Kane, an admiring smile on her tanned face. “You cut him?”

  “Let’s just say he wonna be using his left hand for a while.”

  “Good for ye, lassie,” the man she’d stolen the blade from said. Respect shone in his eyes.

  “She was brave enough to challenge Palmer, Kane.” Hannah rubbed his arm. “She’s one of us.”

  “Or just foolish enough to get her throat slit,” Leif said. “You’ll return home to Grace and be safe.” His anger receded, and he lowered his voice, “You are safe on Tortuga?”

  She nodded. “Grace befriended an old French woman who is quite ill. She has been helping take care of her and her pregnant charge, who resides with her. Ever since she started doing this, the locals, including the drunkards, have left us alone.”

  “Mon Dieu,” Mariah said, as she covered her hand over her mouth. “Grand-mére.”

  Ronan walked away from the mast and approached Gwen, his eyes steady. “She took care of a pregnant woman?”

  “Aye,” Gwen said. “You know the woman, donna you?”

  “She’s my woman. Is she well?”

  “Grace is a healer and an excellent midwife. You couldna wish for anyone better.”

  “She is?” Leif looked at Gwen as if he’d never seen her before. She was not the demure young woman he’d thought. Her arms and legs were toned, but it was her green eyes that saddened him. Gone was the easy laughter. Hardness and wariness glinted out of them. She’d done what she had to do to protect Grace, all because of him. He’d been at sea too long, a vampire too long, wrapped in his own miserable life to look at his sisters. One had turned into a fighter, a brawler, while the opposite was a healer.

  “You’ve been gone for three years,” Gwen said, her voice softened. “A lot can happen in three years.”

  Uneasiness crept up his spine. “Where is Grace?”

  “Up the mountain, staying with the old woman and her charge. She wasna at home when Palmer and his men came callin’.”

  “My woman had a sister—Penelope,” Ronan said. “Is she with your sister, or was she taken?”

  Gwen’s forehead crinkled, and her eyebrows knotted as she went into a deep thought. “I donna know of any other female captives on the Fiery Damsel
, but they kept me in the brig.” She looked at Ronan. “If she was there, I fear she was held captive with the men.”

  The sails flapped overhead, and a sea gull cried. Leif looked down at his bare feet. Women didna fare well on the Fiery Damsel. Palmer let his men do whatever they wanted to the lasses after he was finished. Most of them begged for death, which was often granted.

  “There’s one more thing,” Gwen said.

  Leif jerked his head up at the danger laced in her small voice.

  “The woman who sacrificed her life for me—Isabella.”

  “He wouldna dare kill her,” Leif said, correcting her.

  Gwen shook her head. “No, you’re wrong. Palmer said someone named Zuto said she was pregnant. Zuto and some woman, Caryis, Chartis, no...”

  Ronan’s face paled. “Charybdis?”

  She snapped her fingers. “That’s her name.” She looked at each of them for a long moment. “She and the demon, or whatever he is, plan on killing Isabella to get to her unborn child so they can perform some sort of sacrifice.”

  The blood drained from Leif’s face. His heart stopped, and he couldn’t breathe. How could this be? Zuto had never planned on killing Angelica. ’Twas not his style. He had other people do his dirty work—like forcing Ronan to kill Angelica. Why was he now planning to kill Isabella himself? Why his woman?

  Gwen rushed over to him and clutched his hand, the first time comforting him. “Leif, who is Charybdis?”

  Confusion settled in Leif’s gut. He’d heard mention of the name when he was on board the Fiery Damsel, but only in whispers. Palmer always stopped talking about her when he was around. “I donna know.”

  “I do,” Ronan said. “She was Isabella’s and Angelica’s stepmother. She’s the one who told the pirates how to capture their mother and murder her. Later, Charybdis seduced and married their father, Eldric. She tried to murder him and take over as queen, but he discovered her dastardly plot and cursed her, changing her into a giant whirlpool with long tentacles and razor-sharp teeth. She has a mouth large enough to suck down ships.”

 

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