She sat back, sniffing, and wiped the tears from her face. She drew a deep breath and tossed her hair back in defiance. “All right,” she said quietly. “Enough of this self-pity. I haven't even asked you how you're feeling. The wound, did it heal?"
Jaeger nodded, though the injury still burned. He only wished his heart didn't ache as much. Rhiannon surveyed their surroundings, then got stiffly to her feet.
"Well, it looks like the caves will be home for a bit longer,” she said, all traces of her tears gone. “You'll have to forgive my emotions, Jaeger. Carrying a child does this to a woman.” She turned away but stopped when he gripped her skirt in his teeth. She looked down at him. “What? Are you in pain? Do you need to rest?"
He dropped the cloth, shook his head, then looked over his shoulder at what he hoped was another chance at civilization. Rhiannon seemed to catch his meaning at once. She shook her head.
"No, thank you! I'll not be walking up to another house real soon. I think I prefer the caves."
Jaeger shook his head again. No! Cold, dark caves are not the place for a woman carrying a child. You need your clan, Rhiannon, please. You need your clan. He rose, wincing in pain, and took a few steps away from her.
She frowned. “What? I don't understand."
"Don't you?"
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Darius stepped from behind a large boulder. Rhiannon gave a small, startled cry and darted to Jaeger's side. Jaeger glared at the Vector, hatred burning a hole in his gut. Darius regarded him thoughtfully, almost sadly, then turned his attention to Rhiannon.
"He no longer wishes you to be with him,” he told her.
Rhiannon drew herself up rigidly. “I don't believe that. He just risked his life for me."
"Again,” Darius said wryly.
Rhiannon frowned. “Yes, again."
Darius sighed, shaking his head. “And how many more times will he risk his life for yours? How many more brushes with death will he suffer to keep you safe?"
Jaeger let out a low growl, not understanding—or liking—the tone of Darius’ voice. The Vector ignored him. Jaeger glanced up at Rhiannon, saw the uncertainty begin to grow in her eyes. He pressed up against her leg, hoping she would understand he was caring for her of his own choice.
"I ... I don't mean to cause him to suffer,” she stammered.
"Yet, he does suffer.” Darius shrugged, gesturing at Jaeger. “Look at him. A man trapped inside the body of an animal, having to answer to animal instincts while at the same time possessing human intellect, human needs, human wants and desires. How do you think this is affecting him?"
Jaeger growled again, irritated that Darius was discussing him as if he could no longer understand human speech. Rhiannon's gaze was locked on him, though she seemed to be looking more through him than at him.
"But you did this to him!” she cried.
"I had no choice. He attacked another Vector, he defied the Sovereign, he took you away from your rightful master.” Darius paused. “If you truly loved him, you would let him go."
"Go?” she echoed softly.
Jaeger's anger erupted. He darted between Rhiannon and Darius, growling, his eyes narrowed to slits as he glared up at the Vector.
Darius finally acknowledged him. “You're in pain,” he said softly. “A wound from an arrow. I can tell you right now, Jaeger, it won't heal like you think it will. You no longer have that ability. Already, infection is setting in. In two weeks time, you'll most likely be dead."
"No!” Rhiannon cried. She dropped down beside Jaeger and gathered him close. “That's not true. It can't be! Jaeger, it's not true, is it?"
Jaeger remained still. Darius had only confirmed what he had already begun to suspect. Though the bleeding had stopped, whatever filth had coated the arrow had embedded itself deep within Jaeger's muscle. Walking had only sent it deeper. It was apparent now that Jaeger would not be able to rely on his Vector strength or magic to assist in the healing.
"No,” Rhiannon said again and broke into sobs.
After a moment, Darius spoke again. “I can help you both."
"How?” Rhiannon lifted her tearstained face to him.
"I make you an offer. I will return Jaeger to his Vector form so that he can heal properly. Even so, it will take weeks to repair the damage. You will come with me and take your place beside Celd."
Horror swelled in Jaeger's chest. He whipped his head up to stare at Darius. No! his mind screamed, but all that came from his throat was a pitiful yowl of denial. He spun to look at Rhiannon. She was ashen-faced.
"If I do this,” she whispered, “Jaeger will live?"
No! Jaeger screamed again and rested one paw on her arm.
"Yes, he will live,” Darius replied.
Rhiannon looked into Jaeger's eyes, her hands gently stroking his fur. Slowly, she nodded, then leaned forward to kiss him.
"I love you, Jaeger,” she breathed. “Don't forget me."
Jaeger lifted his other paw to wrap both about her in an effort to keep her with him but Darius’ magic claimed her, leaving Jaeger sprawled on the hard ground, alone.
Chapter Sixteen
Jaeger paced the cave, his mountain cat steps fast and furious, though still hampered by a slight limp. It had been almost two months since Rhiannon had disappeared, since Darius had returned him to his Vector form. Or at least a semblance of it. By night he was a Vector, able to shapeshift, filled with more-than-human strength, hungering for blood. But by day, he was still a mountain cat, driven by animal instinct alone. In the animal shape, he was mortal, vulnerable to being severely injured, crippled, even killed. He pushed the thought aside as rage consumed him for this foul trick Darius had played on him. He wanted to find the Vector as badly as he wanted to find Rhiannon.
He had not been able to find her, though not for lack of trying. He exhausted himself trying. He investigated every scent of blood, every rumor of a Vector or a witch's presence in every village he encountered in his travels. The only answer he could come up with was that Darius had returned Rhiannon to the Lair. And if she was there...
He sank down in despair. If she were in the Lair, there would be no saving her. He could not get back inside. He had been banished, doomed to wander in solitude for eternity, his familiar companion, despair, following him. Thoughts of the raging river in the canyon were coming all too frequently.
However, along with despair came a rage he had never experienced. It burned within, drove him, colored his nights, marred his days. Rage helped him drive away thoughts of the eternal peace that lay at the bottom of the river.
He lifted his head and looked outside the cave. It was night. Time for him to shift into Vector form. Then, by choice, he would immediately return to his animal form. What irony: He had yearned to be a man again, and now that he could be, he made a conscious choice not to. However, as an animal he could cover more ground, investigate rumors more thoroughly. It was not without its risks, of course. At the moment, he was close to a large village consisting mostly of hunters and trappers. Hunting parties were thick about the woods; and they didn't seem to care what their prey was. He walked outside, sniffing the cool air, even as the change took place.
He could smell blood. His thirst for the red liquid had not abated. In fact, it seemed to be intensifying. Even the kills he made while in animal form could not satisfy his yearnings. He wanted, needed, human blood. And he took it, no longer chastising himself for what he needed. A change had come over him; and when he fed, he did so with an anger and force previously unknown to him.
He lifted his head as the wind suddenly changed direction. A familiar scent wrapped around him. He frowned, puzzled, then changed into an owl. He took flight, winging silently over the dark countryside, his keen eyesight missing nothing. First, he needed to satisfy his hunger. Several field mice and a small hare took care of that. Then, he turned toward the nearby village and the source of the puzzling scent.
He fluttered to the top of a silo and scanne
d the ground below. There seemed to be a great deal of activity taking place near the town square. He flew closer, settling on the peaked roof of the church. A sizeable crowd, bearing torches and an assortment of weapons, was pushing and shoving toward the center of the open space. Their voices made clear they were aroused to a fever pitch. Jaeger tuned an ear to what they were saying.
"Get the rope!"
"We'll not have their kind in our town!"
"Hangin's not good enough for the likes of him!"
Jaeger watched as someone threw a thick rope over a protruding beam in front of a two-story inn. The crowd jostled and made way as a small knot of men emerged, dragging a young man toward the makeshift gallows. He was fighting them, struggling to free himself of both their hold and the tight ropes binding his wrists behind him. Even by torchlight, Jaeger could see he was ashen-faced with terror.
"Witch!” someone yelled.
The townsfolk quickly took up the chant. It seared into Jaeger's heart, quickened his pulse, sent him into a wild fury. Witch! So, that was the game, then! Jaeger swooped down from his perch, landing easily on the ground in the dark of a side street beside the tavern. He changed into a mountain cat and crept forward until he could see around the corner of the building.
The young man was now under the rope but the men holding him were having a hard time getting the noose about his neck. He ducked first one way, then the other, all the while screaming his innocence. Finally, one of his captors cuffed him soundly. He sagged toward the ground, and in that same moment, Jaeger sprang to land beside him.
The mob fell back with a gasp of shock and alarm, while their prey collapsed, dazed. Jaeger bared his teeth and let out a roar that echoed against the wooden buildings lining the square.
"It's the witch's familiar!” someone shouted.
"Kill it!” another screamed.
No one moved. Jaeger let out another angry yowl as the condemned man managed to regain his feet. He seemed just as terrified of Jaeger as the villagers were.
"It—it's not mine,” he stammered, backing away.
Jaeger gave him a quick glare, then returned his attention to the crowd. Another growl erupted from his throat, and he took a step forward. The crowd fell back in response. Then, one of the braver men loosed an arrow. It was badly off-target and landed with a dull thud far to one side. Still, it was enough to both incite the crowd and to rouse Jaeger's ire even further.
Several dozen men pressed forward, shouting for the creature's death. Jaeger refused to back down. Instead, he again shapeshifted, this time into a shaggy brown bear, driving the crowd to a wild panic. As he stood up on his hind legs, he loosed yet another roar.
"Kill the witch, and his familiar dies as well!” a man shouted.
Another arrow soared through the air, followed by a dagger, both of which missed the young man by only inches. Blue eyes wide, his face almost as white as the moon, he stumbled and sought protection behind Jaeger.
"Come on! We can take him!"
"Kill the witch!"
The words rang out over the square, and the men rushed forward as one, circling Jaeger in an attempt to reach the young man. More arrows flew, and Jaeger heard the man cry out in pain. Rage boiled into fury; and in a split second, the bear transformed into a dragon.
Jaeger threw back his head and unleashed a stream of flame that arched madly into the night sky. This time the crowd had had enough. They threw down their weapons and fled, their terrified shrieks echoing shrilly. Jaeger turned his head toward the young man, then caught him up in one powerful forelimb. With just two hard beats of his wings, Jaeger lifted from the ground and shot up into the dark.
The young man lay limp in his grasp, bleeding heavily from an arrow embedded deep in his shoulder. The scent of iron-rich blood filled Jaeger's senses, sent his heart racing. He soared toward the cave he had called home for too many nights to remember.
He landed sure of foot, easing the young man to the cold stone floor, then once more assumed his Vector form. The man stared up at him through eyes glassy with pain.
"A Vector,” he breathed, though he did not try to move away.
Jaeger hunkered down beside him to examine the wound and grimaced. Without a word, he pulled the quarrel free. The young man gasped; his body convulsed in agony and his eyes fluttered closed. For a moment, Jaeger could only watch the red blood spill out, soaking through the man's shirt, dripping to the floor. Tentatively, he touched the blood with one finger, then brought it to his mouth. Iron. Pure, strong, rich. The taste was familiar, and Jaeger's thoughts spun instantly to Rhiannon.
The young man looked a great deal like her, with his dark hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. Perhaps ... Jaeger shook his head, not daring to allow himself the thought. He drew his pack forward and attempted to stop the bleeding. The wound, however, continued to pump blood no matter how long Jaeger pressed on the site.
Perplexed, he sat back to consider. He could give some of his own blood to the young man. It would stop the bleeding, true, but there was also a question if the man would cross over, would become one of the Vectors. Jaeger didn't know if he could do that to another—to plunge an innocent person into his own personal hell. Yet, if he didn't, the man would bleed to death. And what right did Jaeger have to allow that? Again, his pathetic lack of knowledge for his own kind came surging forward. How much blood was enough? How much was too much? Was there a certain amount that would heal, but not harm? He drew a deep breath, and before he could change his mind, he quickly bit into his own wrist. Blood, hot and red, spilled forth. Jaeger held his arm over the man's wound, allowing his blood to drip into it. Almost at once, the hemorrhage slowed, then stopped. The man shuddered several times, gasping as if in pain.
Jaeger drew his arm away, letting his own wound heal, then watched as the hole created by the arrow closed, the skin and tissue regenerating. It amazed him how the blood of a Vector affected a human. It was almost as profound as the way the blood of a human affected a Vector.
The young man opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he gazed up at Jaeger. “Please,” he managed, lifting one hand.
Annoyance raced through Jaeger. “I have just saved your life,” he said. “You've no need to beg for mercy from me."
"No,” the man rasped, gripping Jaeger's arm with as much force as he could. “I ... need ... your help."
"And I have given it,” Jaeger returned. “Your wound has healed. You will live. What more do you need?"
Tears sparked the young man's blue eyes, reminding Jaeger of Rhiannon once again. Pain tore through his heart, and he made to pull away from the man.
"No,” the man said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to ... be bled."
Jaeger started. “Bled?” he breathed.
"Please. Magic ... it's ... too much..."
Jaeger understood at once. The man was a witch! Had used magic trying to escape his tormentors. Now, his blood was thick with iron. Iron that was killing him more rapidly than even the arrow wound had threatened to do. Jaeger frowned, looking at the amount of blood the man had already lost, wondering why it had not been enough.
The man's tears spilled over, ran down the sides of his face, yet still he maintained his grip on Jaeger's arm. “Please,” he said again.
Jaeger complied.
~*~
The young man woke several hours later. He sat up with a cry of alarm, then sagged back to the ground once he registered his surroundings. Jaeger was surprised that he actually seemed relieved to find himself in a cold, gray cave with only a Vector for company.
"My thanks,” the man murmured. “You risked a great deal to help me."
Jaeger shrugged. “Would you like some tea?"
The man peered over at him. “You drink tea?"
Jaeger couldn't help but smile. “I like to vary my diet."
The man reddened. “I'm sorry. I ... I didn't—"
Jaeger interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “That's all right. Come, have something to eat.
"
The man didn't even try to rise. Instead, he simply scooted himself closer to the fire and the food. “That looks like rabbit."
"It is. Help yourself."
The man took a chunk of the meat, tasted it, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, he didn't believe Vectors were good for anything but taking blood.
"By the way,” he said around a mouthful of meat, “my name is Vail."
"Jaeger.” He paused. “You look like you might be clan."
"I am."
"Then your people are close by as well?"
Vail glanced at him, then shook his head. “No. Actually, I'm on my own."
"I see. And you are a witch?"
"Yes."
"What were you doing in the village? And using magic?"
Vail sagged. “I ... I'm looking for my sister."
"Your sister?” Jaeger sat up straighter, his heart beginning to pound. “Her name?"
"Rhiannon.” Vail's shoulder's sagged further, as if merely saying the name smothered him in grief.
Jaeger stared at him, astonished. “Rhiannon?” he whispered.
"Yes. She disappeared months ago. I guess continuing to search is—” He stopped suddenly, his mouth gaping, his gaze fixed on Jaeger. “Wait! You might know! She went looking for a Vector! She said she sensed the presence of one not far from our camp. But she never came back! Could you ... would you even...?” He broke off again, his eyes pleading.
The words reminded Jaeger of the pain he had felt when Rhiannon had told him of her search. Of how she had tracked him—or Celd. A Vector to help her with her illness, a partnership, a business arrangement. It hurt as much now as it had then, despite Rhiannon's claims of love for him. He took a sip of his tea and regarded Vail.
"I knew Rhiannon,” he said softly.
"What?” The word barely escaped Vail's lips. His face, already pale, went even more so. “Knew? Then she's ... you..."
Anger flitted through Jaeger at what the man was suggesting. “No, I did not kill her,” he snapped. “I found her, badly beaten and bleeding from a self-inflicted wound. I helped her, Vail. I did not kill her."
Blood Bred Series Book 1: Gift Of Love Page 11
