Leman

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Leman Page 12

by Serena Akeroyd


  Not that Lara looked like she was in need of his help.

  It was in a Dragon’s nature to dominate. To take over. To be needed by his leman. Georgios wasn’t the same as most Dragons; his past precluded him from some of those traits out of sheer terror he’d turn into his father. But still, it was almost disappointing to realize that his mate wouldn’t need him to fight in her corner.

  Then, equally, he felt nothing more than pride in her strength… A complex matter to be sure.

  “I have reason to believe that Benjamin Meer was behind my attack.”

  If the cacophony had been noisy before, that was nothing to now. Mother.

  Georgios’s Shifter-sensitive hearing was put to the test at the noise levels in the church. Then, when less than ten seconds had passed after her announcement, the crowd turned on Benjamin Meer. Literally.

  They sought him out, sourced him amid the crowd, until he was at the center of everyone’s attention.

  He got to his feet, eyes narrowed with annoyance. No shame lined his features. No fear. Just irritation. “What proof do you have of this?”

  “Your scent in my nostrils isn’t enough?” Lara demanded, tone cloyingly sweet as she lied—to save Megan from her brother’s wrath, he assumed.

  Benjamin froze. “That isn’t possible,” he said on a long hiss.

  “No?” Her eyes flashed silver again, but this time, they stayed that shade, and Benjamin, rather than sputter his outrage, strode toward the pulpit. He did so, disregarding the people in his way, who had to shuffle left and right to let him out of the pew. He kept his gaze eerily on the Sanguenna, telling Georgios that Lara was compelling him to come to her.

  The rest of the congregation gasped at his actions, but only the male, Marcus, called out, “Is he dangerous?”

  Lara shook her head but kept her attention focused on Benjamin. “No. He isn’t coming to attack. He’s coming because I willed it of him.”

  Marcus scowled at Lara. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “What do you want me to say, Marcus? Do you want me to explain the impossible? I was set upon by a group of daywalkers. A dozen? Ten? I don’t know how many, but it was a lot. They attacked me. Their venom flooded my system. To save me, my mate took me to the other realm. I was drained of the venom, and then fed from Sanguennas who donated their blood to me. I’m not the Lara you once knew.” She shrugged. “That’s all I can say. I hunger now, for sustenance other than blood. The side of me that is nightwalker is more prominent in my nature, and she has talents. My ability to compel is stronger. I am still learning what else I have attained from the healing.”

  Marcus scowled. “How is that even possible?”

  Pissed off at the male’s constant questioning, Georgios stepped forward out of the shadows and demanded, “Your tone is disrespectful, male. You speak as though you’re not relieved your Sanguenna is healthy and whole.”

  Marcus growled. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “He’s my mate.”

  The male’s head whipped around so he could gawk at his Sanguenna. “You’re mated to a Shifter?”

  “Indeed.”

  A woman stood, a daywalker if Georgios’s nose was accurate—which it was. “You are well, Sanguenna? You don’t seem injured.”

  “Yes, Grace, I’m well,” Lara answered with a soft smile. “Thank you for asking.”

  It didn’t escape Georgios’s attention that Lara was easily conversing with several people, all while Benjamin hovered there, zombie-like.

  His mate’s abilities were surprising even him. He wouldn’t have been too astonished if Lara herself was bemused by this.

  Grace bit her lip. “Your mate, is it true he’s a Dragon?”

  “Aye, I’m a Dragon. What of it?” Georgios answered in Lara’s stead.

  “Is that why you took her to the other realm and didn’t bring her here for healing?” another male asked, getting to his feet.

  “Georgios did the right thing by me, Duncan. There was nothing any of you could have done. I am the eldest in the coven, and I wouldn’t have known how to heal me—I did not realize there was a way to stave off daywalker venom.

  “Georgios took me to the right place. Ancient Sanguenna healed me, and as their blood flows through my veins, now, I think it’s safe to say I’ve harnessed some of their talents.”

  That they hadn’t spoken of this together irked him no end, but he was glad for her intelligence. It would have been irritating to spend the rest of his life with a moron, and what she’d discerned fit with his beliefs too.

  Duncan frowned. “But you are well? You are not unstable?”

  Lara sighed. “Grace already asked, and I already answered. I’m very well.”

  Duncan waved a hand. “You have to forgive me for being repetitive when you have Benjamin hovering there like a puppet on a string.”

  Her eyes turned into slits. “You’re questioning my right to punish a male who set upon me in a cowardly attack? He didn’t call me out, challenge my right to rule. He attacked me in the dead of night, when I was alone. Were you one of the dozen, Duncan? Did he manage to convince you to act in this conspiracy?” Before the male could do little other than sputter, she turned to Benjamin, “Who else was involved in the assault on my person?”

  “Mary-Beth Watson, Duncan Peabody, Lisa Conrad, Lisa Jameson, George Wyatt, Harold Cooper…” And so went on the list of names until eleven had been spoken.

  At first, the congregation was frozen, and then, Georgios yelled, “Seize them,” when a male got to his feet and tried to run.

  People on either side, in front and behind, grabbed hold of Lara’s attackers. Some attacked—males grabbed males in holds that incapacitated them, some females did the same with other females.

  Where chaos should have reigned, a relatively calm proceeding took place. Within minutes, the twelve were detained, frozen in place by the congregation around them.

  Hisses were shot their way, disdainful looks shot at the attackers.

  “What do we do with them?” a voice called out.

  Lara shrugged. “First, we question them.”

  “But after?” the female, Grace, asked. “They can’t be trusted. We don’t want them in our coven.”

  Cries of agreement followed her words.

  Lara wafted her hands, playing down the noise. “You think I do? But they are kin to some of you…”

  “They are no kin of ours, if they have attacked our leader,” a male voice called out, triggering more hollers of agreement.

  This time, Lara held out her hands to stop the noise. “Since the Dragon scale has been in our possession, it can’t only be me who has noticed a difference in temperament.”

  A woman stood.

  “Jessica?” Lara prompted.

  Jessica ducked her head and shyly murmured, “Cats.”

  “Cats?” Marcus demanded. “What the hell are you talking about, woman?”

  Jessica gritted her teeth and shot the irritating male a glower. “They come to me in great waves. I have a dozen around my house now. More come to the door every day.”

  Lara blinked. “Well, that isn’t what I meant exactly, Jessica. But thank you for sharing.”

  “I hate cats,” Jessica retorted, and then, she shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I did. Now, they’re kind of cute.”

  Lara hid a smile. “Anyone else noticed something similar?”

  A male got to his feet. “My healing talents have improved.”

  Lara’s brows rose. “Seriously, Gray?”

  He nodded. “I can heal things faster.”

  Georgios shot his leman a confused look, to which she replied, “Gray works in a human hospital.”

  “A Vampire works in a human hospital?”

  Gray folded his arms across his chest. “You have a problem with that?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t have thought working around all that blood…?”

  Gray just glowered at him. “I’m a daywalker.”

  Which mad
e a little more sense but not a whole lot. Georgios rubbed his jaw. “Okay, so the Dragon scale’s presence in the coven is obviously responsible for some interesting improvements.”

  “It’s why I had to help the Shifter boy,” Lara said softly. “Which is why this whole situation has come about.”

  Marcus’s head tilted to the side. “You did it then?”

  She nodded.

  “Benjamin said you did,” Marcus admitted. “I just thought he was being his usual dipshit self.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Marcus rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Benjamin’s always been a bit…” He sighed. “Anti you.”

  “He dislikes me?” Lara sounded stunned. “Why the hell didn’t he leave the coven then? He didn’t have to stay just because he was born into it. Jesus, people leave every year.”

  “He liked the coven, just not you.”

  Lara swore under her breath. “I am the coven, Marcus.” She cast a glance about the room. “Don’t let anyone mistake that. This coven exists today, with its successes and strength, because I am at the helm.”

  Georgios was pleased to note that all the crowd nodded in accord.

  Even Marcus, peculiarly enough, when he seemed to be the most obstreperous and outspoken amid the congregation.

  “I’m not disagreeing,” he said, confirming his stance. “I’m just telling you how Benjamin was.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what? He didn’t like you? Jesus, Lara, I don’t always like you. But I’m not leaving the coven, and I have no desire to mutiny.

  “Like and respect are two different things, and neither are owed to a leader. Neither is dislike and disrespect a crime.

  “I had no idea he’d do anything as fucked up as attack you. I had no idea there were so many other morons who shared the feeling either.”

  Lara frowned, and Georgios sensed her hurt. She was confused, couldn’t understand why so many daywalkers had turned on her.

  To her people, she asked, “Does the coven discriminate against daywalkers? Do I?”

  Grace, still on her feet, shook her head. “No. You’re very fair.”

  Murmurs of agreement backed Grace’s opinion.

  “Then, why?” Lara waved a hand at the daywalkers.

  It was Megan who stood next. Georgios would admit to being surprised, because she’d been terrified earlier. Although, with her brother in a trance, which had him staring dopily into space, Georgios supposed she felt safe.

  “They wanted a daywalker to be Sanguen.”

  Hushed whispers soared among the crowd.

  “Nightwalkers are always leader,” Lara said dismissively.

  Megan pulled a face. “Normally, a daywalker has power in the coven. Your right hand man should be a daywalker, but you don’t have a relationship with a single daywalker. You currently feed from two, but that changes. Doesn’t it?”

  Lara nodded. Slowly. “I see no reason to maintain that kind of close friendship.”

  “Exactly. You can never be swayed to a cause that suits daywalker’s needs,” Megan replied, her voice small.

  “But that isn’t necessary. You just have to come to me and put in a request. Even if I had a daywalker right hand man, or woman, I’d never listen to what they had to say and immediately implement it. Surely you all know I’m too stubborn for that.

  “Anyway, what daywalker’s needs am I failing to satisfy?”

  Marcus sighed. “Benjamin is a crazy fucker. You can’t reason with crazy.”

  “No, maybe not, but there’s a small crowd here who agreed with him. Shit, he could form a coven with this kind of core group.”

  “You know the court would never allow that. Like you said, a nightwalker is always in charge,” Megan replied.

  Lara huffed out a breath and folded her arms across her chest. She’d been leaning over, hands gripping the sides of the pulpit. Her stance had been aggressive, now it was defensive. Then, she narrowed her eyes at one of the men. Duncan again.

  “Why?”

  The one-word question had him stiffening, but his face was still slack, his words slurred as he said, “You fed a Shifter blood. That’s an abomination.”

  “This whole thing has come about because of that? Because I stopped a small boy from being brutally murdered?”

  Duncan’s mouth firmed. “Last year, you forbade anyone from feeding Sandra when she passed over.”

  “Sandra wanted to die,” Lara barked. “What was I supposed to do? Ignore that? Ignore her free will?”

  “You were supposed to help her. She was depressed. You only didn’t because she was a daywalker,” Duncan sneered.

  Rage flashed across Lara’s face, and she slammed her fists down against the pulpit. “Sandra had lost Matteo. What would you have me do?”

  “Save her!” Spittle flew from Duncan’s mouth. “You didn’t because she wasn’t a nightwalker. The other way around, you’d have done anything to keep Matteo alive, but Sandra didn’t matter.”

  Seething, Lara spat, “Matteo and Sandra were together for ninety-eight years. When Matteo walked into the sun, Sandra lost the will to live. And after ninety-eight years with someone, I think I’d be fucking lost too.

  “She tried to commit suicide three times. We saved her. I got her to go to a psychologist. A counselor. Nothing worked. When I found her the fourth time, there was barely a spark left in her. I chose to give her peace, Duncan. That was my right as Sanguenna to give her that. To free her from her misery.

  “And less of the bullshit about it being different with a nightwalker. Did I or did I not allow Matteo to walk into the sun?”

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed with hatred, and Georgios saw there was no reasoning with the man. To his leman, he said, “The man believes what he wishes to believe. He chooses to think you discriminate against daywalkers, sweetling. There is no convincing him or the others of anything else.”

  She closed her eyes at his words. Blowing out a breath, she lifted her hands and rubbed them over her face. Her despondency and sadness were evocative, enough to have the faces of her coven all peering at her sorrowfully.

  “Matteo was old. An ancient. He loved Sandra, but she wasn’t enough to keep him here. Not anymore. He was tired. He told me this. He said he’d explained to Sandra, that she’d understood.

  “When she turned after his death, I tried to help. I did. But you can’t help someone if they don’t want to be helped. What more could I have done?”

  Grace’s voice was soft. “Nothing, Sanguenna. We all worked together as a coven to help Sandra, but she was lost to us the moment you had to reassign her to another nightwalker.”

  Lara’s bottom lip trembled. “Maybe I should have waited, but I had already let two weeks pass. After donating for so long to Matteo, any longer would have physically hurt her. I had to act.”

  It didn’t escape Georgios’s attention that she was pleading with her people to understand. Though he respected her for that, he wasn’t sure if a crowd of Vampires would. Though they weren’t as bad as Shifters, who had more of a jungle justice kind of rule, where only the strongest, the Alpha, reigned, this sort of display might still make her appear weak.

  The last thing she needed was to be challenged.

  However, he couldn’t go to her, not without weakening her position.

  Instead, he turned to look at her and said, “Mate, it is time you decide what to do with the traitors.”

  She gnawed at her lip. Her eyes were loaded with horror, but he nodded at her, trying to encourage her to do what she had to do.

  There was no way these people could live. Not after having betrayed her.

  “The court will tell you to deal with this,” Marcus pointed out softly, and though he’d admitted to Lara that he didn’t always like her, Georgios could sense he pitied her at that moment.

  Pitied the sentence she’d have to give.

  She opened her mouth to speak, and a male stood up. His feet tapped against the parquet fl
oor as he strode down the aisle and headed for her.

  There was no threat to his stance, just a purpose. He came to a halt before the pulpit and said, “Sanguenna, I am armed. I gift you the knife so you may seek vengeance for what they did to you.”

  “Anthony, thank you for the knife.” She closed her eyes a second. “I have never killed one of my coven.”

  “You’ve never been betrayed before either,” Grace murmured softly, still on her feet, sympathy woven into her expression.

  Lara gulped, turned and stepped down from the pulpit. Only Georgios was far enough forward to see her expression when she faced the enclave. He longed to stride over to her, to grab her in his arms and show her how deeply his feelings ran. Longed to remind her that she was more than simply a Sanguenna now. She was a Dragon’s mate. A leman to the strongest, most noble of the Shifter races.

  A race so pure and formidable, they had to live in the other realm.

  That she was mated into that kind of heritage, spoke of her strength, her character.

  The Mother would not have chosen a weak woman. Be it in character or physical ability.

  But, without weakening her position, he could do none of that, give her no reassurances.

  With a heavy sigh, he watched her wipe off the horror of the moment and saw her replace it with a shaky resolve. As she rounded the pulpit, eleven Vampires surged from the congregation. No one seemed surprised, no one stopped them so he didn’t fret for his leman’s behalf. He watched as they came to a halt behind one of the guilty, grabbing them by the hair and jerking their heads back, baring their throats. When Lara saw the people gathered there, he noticed the faint shake of her fingers as she held out her hand for the knife Anthony passed her. Her fingers closed about the hilt, and her mouth firmed. It was quite clear she didn’t want this task, and yet, this was what it meant to be a leader.

  Georgios had always been relieved the mantel of power landed on Remy’s shoulders, and not his. Tonight was simply proof of that.

  It was interesting that she went to Duncan first. The man’s eyes blazed with his hatred even under her compulsion. Even as he danced to her tune, a puppet to her powers, if Duncan could have spat his venom at her, Georgios was under no illusion that the bastard would have done so.

 

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