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SURVIVAL

Page 37

by Karen Payton Holt


  Rebekah’s intense features emerged from the shadows as she leaned forward to spill her fears out onto the page. ‘About nine hours!!!’. She pushed a feathered tress of blond hair back from her brow, and huffed in frustration. ‘How much longer? Is he alright? Did he have to fight? Did he win? No, of course he won. WHEN WILL HE COME FOR US?’. Pacing the floor was a luxury she could not afford, so the scribbling continued.

  When settling them in, Anthony had taken his escort duties very seriously, taking time to add an extra layer of cloth to the table tops and a thick scatter cushion to each of the armchairs. His frown of serious intent still sprinkled goosebumps over her arms when Rebekah allowed herself to dwell on it.

  “You must be silent. Your life depends upon it,” was his parting shot, and then he left them in the dark. In every sense.

  Rebekah’s body felt surprisingly pain free. Vampire post-operative procedures makes human methods seem like the Dark Ages. Her C-section site had been stitched with an intricacy which only preternatural skill could accomplish. Her brain, however, was screaming in agony.

  “Shh.” Leizle puffed air between her teeth in a gentle reminder. Her worried green eyes held golden nuggets of the reflected lamplight in their depths.

  Rebekah tried to smile as tension crawled under her skin and the hairs on her nape stiffened. An icy chill caressed her face, and she trapped a gasp inside her chest as, darting a sharp glance at Leizle, she caught her attention by gripping her arm. She watched as Leizle’s concerned look sharpened to anxiety and, finally, she got it.

  Someone’s in here.

  The chuckle vibrating in his throat, and resonating as a warm rumble through his chest, died as Rebekah’s gaze found his face. Even though he stood in the darkest corner, she had his height pegged perfectly.

  The spark of alarm stirring diamond fragments in her brown eyes entranced Connor. He dipped his knees and braced his body as she shot up from her chair and flew across the room, knowing that he would catch her.

  He pushed himself into revival sleep. Gauging her speed and tempering his strength, he gathered her fragile frame into his arms when she collided with his body. The feel of her heart fluttering in her chest was like a hummingbird’s wings beating inside a birdcage. He absorbed the impact and straightened, feeling her soft muscles mold to his. He ran his palm smoothly down the back of her denim-clad thighs and lifted her to cradle his hips, creating a space to keep her still tender incision free from pressure.

  “Careful, honey.” His voice was rough with concern. “You might feel okay, but you must be careful.”

  He buried his face in her neck as her excitement stirred the jewels of her blood cells into a fragrant turbulent frenzy. Ah, that pain. Familiar hunger unfurled inside his gut and her scent lacerated his throat. Bliss.

  “Your painkiller is an implant, honey, but be careful.” Connor looked into her upturned face, his own features trapped between joy and lust as his hand pressed firmly down the seam running along the back of her jeans.

  He smiled as her heart rate clattered an agitated echo inside her ribcage and a shower of firework embers warmed her blood. An answering heat flushed her cheeks and then dropped like a stone through the center of her body to warm his palms and pulse against his fingers.

  “I missed you.” She smiled ruefully, and reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair. She tugged at his bottom lip with hers, and filled his mouth with a sigh of need.

  “I missed you, too,” he said, his palm gently framing her nape as he sank into her kiss and tantalized a thirst which would take a thousand years to slake. Her pulse danced through his body in an earthquake of enticing rhythms, and a purr vibrated his vocal chords as her hands pulled hard on his hair.

  “Ahem,” spluttered Julian with pretended indignation. “Get a room, you two.”

  Connor smiled against Rebekah’s lips, his words riding the wave of a deep-throated chuckle. “Spoilsport.”

  “Not at all.” Julian strode over to Leizle’s side and laced his fingers carefully though hers. “However, the clock is ticking,” he murmured in a distracted tone as his gaze dragged a flush over Leizle’s cheekbones and his eyes locked onto hers. “Hey there, Red,” he said. He drifted closer to taste her delicate flavor, and his lips clung to hers. His thumb stroked over the pulse thundering in her throat as he deepened the kiss, letting her scent drift like mist inside him and tighten his body with the yearning for more.

  Connor’s cough grated with amusement. “Clock ticking, did you say?”

  A few minutes later, with Seren folded securely into Connor’s chest, the four of them walked the length of Julian’s house and emerged into the damp night air.

  Pausing on the top step, Rebekah raised an eyebrow as she scanned the gravel driveway. “A car? Can’t we walk faster than you drive that thing?”

  Connor smiled, reached out to wind a strand of her hair around his finger, and tugged it gently. “Funny.”

  “Seriously, though, is it safe?”

  Connor’s attention wandered and he was lost in admiring the blend of colors in the silky tress. The filaments reflected with a rainbow of gold to his vampire sight – a couple of black, and then every shade of yellow, with a few platinum strands thrown in for good measure.

  “Marius has declared the court hearing a closed session. No one leaves until he gives permission, so we have the time to travel by more conventional and comfortable means,” said Julian as he elbowed Connor sharply in the ribs.

  It was Rebekah’s turn to become entranced when moonlight broke from behind a cloud and dressed Connor’s skin in silver flecks. Rebekah hitched a gasp which drew his gaze as she breathed, “You get more beautiful every day.”

  When his lips bowed in amusement, she said with a sheepish smile, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  “Afraid so,” said Connor as he tapped a fingertip on her upturned nose. “We should get moving. I’ll be happier when we have you settled back in the eco-shelter.”

  “But, we’ll be alone,” Leizle whispered with concern.

  “Not for long. Anthony has Oscar and Greg’s scent. He’s bringing them back,” Julian replied.

  “Scent?” asked Leizle.

  Julian shrugged. “It’s been a long time since he was at the eco-shelter. It is just a precaution for both sides. A point of contact.”

  Connor seamlessly jumped in to finish the thought. “Anthony has the password ‘the kitchen is empty’, so Oscar will know that we sent him. The eco-shelter will be home again in no time. It remains the safest place for you and Seren, for now, at least.” Connor held out his hand to Rebekah. “Let’s go. The good news is I can drive as fast as I want.”

  Rebekah grimaced. “Just don’t make Seren sick. I have enough trouble getting the milk into her with that metal feeding contraption you came up with, without it coming back up again.”

  Her frown, accompanied by a stamped foot, made Connor laugh with genuine delight as he saluted in mock obedience, and said, “Yes ma’am.” Gliding down the steps he opened the car door and stood to attention with an arched look that said, ‘Are you coming?’.

  Epilogue

  A month had passed since he killed Sebastian, and Connor was back in harness. His reinstatement to the hospital was unconditional; however, Connor was not a fool. Dedication to a common cause is not natural for vampires. We aren’t herd animals, and the temptation to serve our own interests will always lie just below the surface. Therefore, enforcing the protected status of the eco-community would be a constant challenge.

  Connor paused outside the hospital and took a deep breath of the cool night air. He had been released from a cadaver drawer half an hour ago. His muscles hummed with the purr of rehydration, and he was the human equivalent of being well-fed and rested. He had drunk his full quota of human blood before taking grave sleep, so he was as safe as a fox in the chicken coop could be.

  He dallied inside the shelter of the stone porch. The light pouring through the aqua-tinted glass do
ors at his back cast his shadow in a crooked carpet of black. It zigzagged down over the marble steps, tugging at his feet, calling to him to follow, race, and plow through the terrain, until he was once again at Rebekah’s side and holding Seren.

  Spring is in the air. The thought flirted with a smile which did not quite blossom. The burgeoning flora in Hyde Park was a fragrant bouquet in the concrete vase of this London suburb. The moist atmosphere was laden with promise.

  A frown darkened Connor’s face as the cold emanating from the granite walls at his shoulders smothered spring’s tentative touch with a shadow of foreboding. As eddying gusts of air snatched at the fabric of his pants, he adopted the human display of preparing to brave the elements by buttoning up his greatcoat against the chill, except, the cold resided inside his chest.

  The heavy glass door behind him whipped open, and the feeling of foreboding took the tangible form of Juror Marius.

  He stopped at Connor’s side. “The guardsman is back with the first report on how Serge is faring in Scotland,” he said, deliberately.

  Connor’s look penetrated Marius’ nonchalant facade. Bad news, then. Never a dull moment. “Oh? What news?”

  Marius’ silence was heavy with calculation, and Connor fancied he could hear the cogs turning inside the vampire’s meticulous brain.

  “Just say it, Marius. We’re not in court, now, I won’t hold you to anything.”

  “News of the vampire birth has reached the Midland Hive.” Marius paused and, for the first time in their acquaintance he laid a hand on Connor, gripping his shoulder. “I’m afraid we will attract the interest of outsiders before long.”

  Connor looked up towards the black sky where gray clouds had devoured all the stars and billowed with an ill wind. “Not a big surprise.”

  “Have you worked it out yet. How?”

  “The conception?” Connor shook his head. “Not yet. A complete mystery, still.”

  Marius’ dropped his hand down to his side as he said, “Ah, well. It will come to you, I’m sure.” The obsidian depths of his gaze glittered with intelligence. “We’ve waited a decade, a little longer is of no consequence.”

  He knows I’m lying. Connor cleared his throat, flipped up his coat collar, and prepared to move as he said, “I’ll give Julian the heads-up that the secret is out.”

  “Ah, yes. He tells us that we can expect a weekly update in council? Principal Julian, Surgical Officer Anthony, or you, yourself, will keep us informed on Seren’s growth and development. That’s acceptable to you?”

  “Provided the hive members honor the twenty-mile exclusion zone around the eco-home, then yes.” Connor’s words were uncompromising. “Any vampire breaking it signs his own death warrant, and Rebekah and Seren will disappear.” Without looking back, he descended the steps and raced his shadow along the dark wet streets leaving Marius to digest the ultimatum.

  The whisper of Connor’s preternatural stride rebounded from the white marble facades lining the route, and the rapt attention of the gnarled gargoyles and blind statues seemed to ridicule his hopes of a peaceful existence.

  He breathed easier when he raced along the Embankment, tracking the River Thames. The wind whistled through the trees and shredded the skin of the water, chasing foaming ripples from one river bank to the other. The buffeting gusts swelled to a howl and chased him over Vauxhall Bridge, and Connor outraced them as if the Devil’s hordes were clawing at his heels.

  With the passing of each mile of the thirty he covered through the Kent countryside, his certainty emerged as a beacon of assurance – he would hold on to everything that now gave his life meaning.

  His destination in sight, Connor hunkered down in the woods on the edge of the clearing, looking out over the eco-shelter. His contemplations carved a ruthless expression in the chiseled quartz of his features.

  Moonlight slipped through the canopy overhead and slices of deep shadow cut across the ethereal glow of his skin.

  The undergrowth moved, and Anthony arrived beside him. “You left without me.” A smile colored his tone. “You were in a hurry, I guess.”

  “I have to be back at the hospital tomorrow. You can’t blame me for making the most of every moment.” Connor smiled as he rose to his feet, relieved of his vigil. “Julian is here tonight, too. I need you to run the perimeter at twenty miles out. There are eight humans in there, now. I know the jurors and Captain Gerrard are looking after things in London, but-” Connor glanced at Anthony’s massive chest and thick biceps. “If you catch a vampire within twenty miles, finish him. I’m not going through the circus of fighting in the arena every time a vampire crosses the line. Just crush their skulls and let’s be done with it.”

  They both knew Anthony would be breaking a host of unwritten rules, and a few written ones, too. But, exceptional times call for exceptional measures. I’m not going to lose sleep over it.

  Anthony smiled grimly and nodded. “You’ve got it.” Turning on his heel, he disappeared to thread his way through the woodland. His broad, solid frame stirred a surprisingly gentle wake.

  Connor set off for the eco-shelter, crossing the meadow and descending into the dark throat of the access tunnel. Moving beyond the heavy sackcloth curtain, he filled his lungs with the rich cocktail of human scents. It felt like coming home.

  He scanned the tunnels ahead. His vampire senses constructed a three dimensional image of the descending levels, locating each human by their deliciously wet heartbeat. His mouth flooded with citrus-accented venom, and he clamped his throat closed as Rebekah’s honey scent seemed to seek him out and fill his mind with the perfection of her face.

  Brushing his hair back from his brow, he realized the moist night air had settled on his skin as frost. I better warm up before I give them both hypothermia. He whisked silently down to the lower level, swerved left and powered through the dining cavern.

  As Connor entered the kitchen, Oscar looked up from his food preparation, raising a carving knife aloft.

  Connor held up his hands as if his life was in danger, pretending he could not easily read Oscar’s calm features and the thick steady pulse.

  However, another pulse rate in the room accelerated abruptly to a thundering, rolling drum beat as her cheeks flushed and a wash of panic covered her skin in a cold sweat.

  Connor’s gray eyes settled on the middle-aged, flushed female face and he raised an eyebrow. “Oscar, you have a new friend?”

  “This is my Evie,” he spluttered. “This is Evie,” he corrected hastily, a ruddy tide coursing up his thick neck. “Seth said she could visit. She fancied a change of scene.”

  Connor smothered his smile as speculation pushed his eyebrows to comic heights. The stuttering rhythm of Evie’s heart began to stabilize as she moved closer to Oscar and took his hand. Her grip tightened on his fingers and the breath left Oscar’s chest in a whoosh of embarrassment. “She cooks,” he added lamely, and Connor’s chuckle filled the air.

  “Welcome, Oscar’s friend, Evie,” he teased as he crossed the kitchen and disappeared into the laundry room. He mentally added Evie to the eco-shelter family. Clearly they are smitten.

  Four seconds later, trailing a shower of droplets like a dog after a dip in the lake, Connor passed back through the kitchen leaving Oscar and Evie staring after him.

  His skin was warm from his plunge into the hot Jacuzzi pool, and he had left his greatcoat, jacket and shirt there, hanging on a peg. His drenched pants clung to his thighs, and he left a meandering trail of water as he slowed to human walking pace. He could hear the murmur of Rebekah’s voice and he closed his eyes for a moment to absorb her lilting tones. She’s talking to Julian.

  Connor moved deliberately through the tunnels to Rebekah’s small cave and paused just outside the doorway to eavesdrop shamelessly. Julian knows I’m here, he’ll have heard me arrive. But, Rebekah was oblivious and if he leaned against the wall in the dark shadow, he could add to his treasure trove of her expressions and gestures and lock them away in
side his heart.

  Sure enough, Julian shot a lightning bolt of speculation into the dark space, finding the spot where Connor rested, before continuing on as though nothing had disturbed the thread of his thoughts.

  “It was her eighteenth. That is still an important birthday?” Julian tilted his head.

  “Julian.” Rebekah’s persuasive tone was punctuated by a frown. “She just wants you. No frills. No grand gestures. Just your love, and for you to finally make her yours.”

  Rebekah grinned at Julian’s poker faced expression; love and lust were clearly written there, despite himself.

  Connor watched Rebekah, and the fluid language of her body as it swayed in and out of his line of sight, tantalized his vision. Julian formed the other half of this banquet of revelation – he had no idea his eyes were alive with a maelstrom of emotion.

  It helped Connor to push the bleaker elements of this soapbox drama to the back of his mind, where pathos was the bedrock lurking beneath the ocean of optimism.

  “It may not be a hundred years, but she has waited a long time to feel like this. She wants to know that you are serious, that’s all. And now, there’s nothing to stop you, mmm?” Rebekah shrugged eloquently.

  “So-” Julian’s voice grated through tight vocal chords. “An uninterrupted night alone, in a rustic cottage with a burning log fire? Would that be fitting?”

  The delicate arch of her brows rose. “I’m impressed, you have been giving this some thought.”

  “I’ve thought of little else,” Julian said quietly.

  Wistful joy flushed Rebekah’s cheeks and filled Connor’s dead heart with a moment of sorrow. Their love had been the hurtling adrenalin rush of a white water ride through the rapids of passion, always fraught with danger. She knows I love her, but we have had little time to savor it.

  The tangible proof of this thought made itself known, when a demanding mewling noise erupted from Seren’s crib.

  Julian turned to look at the rattling cradle, saying in a decisive tone, “I’ll get going. I’m sure Connor will be along shortly. It’s past midnight.”

 

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