"But if I can help it, your end will be easy," Jaden whispered soothingly. She felt Rick’s sudden turmoil.
"You won’t let them turn me."
It wasn’t a question, not even a request. Jaden felt his heart beat speed beneath her cheek. She felt his strength that he was trying hard to cling onto. Rick was a good man. He deserved better than this. If he hadn’t come after her, he wouldn’t have been captured, waiting for the end like a wrongly accused prisoner on death row.
"Promise me that you’ll kill me," Rick insisted, "I’d prefer it if it was you."
"Yes," she agreed. Her lips opened to bite. Rick knew what was coming, could sense it in her gaze as she lifted up from his arms. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to expose his neck to her. Jaden’s hand raised to his cup his face, gentle and soothing to his warm skin.
Inside, they felt their heartbeats joining. Jaden’s lips caressed his hot skin in a tender kiss, not hurting him as she ran her lips and tongue over his neck, relaxing him. His hand lifted to her waist, smoothing over her hip. She felt his throat working. Rick shivered beneath her, tensing slightly as he awaited her bite. Whispering against his skin, she vowed, "I won’t let them turn you."
* * * *
Tyr rose from his knees, having bowed gracefully before the council, as was the long clung-to tradition from the time of his turning. Walking to Ragnhild, he placed his hand on the old vampire’s shoulder. The greeting was returned by his maker.
Ragnhild’s eyes glowed softly as he nodded in approval of his knight. In truth, their ages were separated by only a few hundred years. At the time of Tyr’s making, it had made all the difference. But now, after they both traveled the centuries well past a millennium, the age difference was minuscule and they held each other in the well tried affection of brothers.
After a similar greeting had passed with the other attending knights to their respective tribal leaders, the vampire soldiers moved to face the council, standing at attention behind Pietro. Tyr held rigid between Shiva and Ares. His undead eyes stared forward with detached responsibility. He didn’t look over the familiar old stones, having stood thus many times over the years in judgment of mortals and immortals alike. Never before had his stomach tightened in repulsion of that duty. Never had he felt anything for the one standing trial. Before now, it was only a job he had done. He knew what was to come. But knowing didn’t make it easier.
"You have brought the dhampir?" Theophania asked quietly. Though her lips moved as she spoke, it wouldn’t have been necessary. They could all hear her well in their heads.
"Yes," Tyr answered in an even tone. No sentiment showed on the contrasted faces in the chamber. The unearthly gazes, embedded within statuesque features that echoed an aching beauty, beheld the knights with a strange mix of boredom and anticipation. "And one of MacNaughton’s mortal soldiers."
"What has taken you so long?" Pietro growled, his eyes narrowing as he spun in his chair to glare at Tyr and the others. "Why are you late?"
"All in due time, Pietro," Theophania scolded with a pretty pout on her crimson stained lips. She looked around the table. The Moroi were not represented, but all others were present. Amon and Vishnu nodded in silent agreement of her decree. Pietro turned his eyes to the center flame to brood. They dismissed him easily. Ragnhild lifted his chin with pride.
"Tyr’s delay is not important," the Drauger leader said in a stern tone. "His loyalty shouldn’t be questioned. Nor should his judgment."
"It is not," Chara said easily with a purse of her cherry lips. Andrei smiled adorningly at her, reaching absently in her direction as if he could touch her over the distance. Ragnhild shot Pietro a challenging glare.
Pietro met the yellowish cast eyes focusing on him as they awaited his response. Grimly, he muttered, "My apologies, Tyr. You are a faithful servant to the tribes."
Tyr nodded in acceptance of the old vampire’s words. Pietro didn’t turn to watch, unconcerned with the knight’s thoughts.
"Continue," Ragnhild directed.
"As ordered, I have been trying to discover which vampires have been assisting MacNaughton in his crimes against our tribes," Tyr said.
"And," Theophania urged.
"The one called Duncan was helping him to change mortals into vampires for a fee. He also assisted MacNaughton’s men in capturing and tracking other young ones. I read it in him and put him to death," Tyr said quietly.
"Good," Chara murmured in approval.
"Was he alone in it?" Vishnu asked, her words clipped short.
"He was the one turning mortals for MacNaughton’s pleasure," Tyr restated. The council nodded in acceptance. The other knights held still. "And he was not aware of any others that MacNaughton might have employed. He thought himself to be a God. I showed him how little he truly was."
"And what do you suspect, Tyr?" Theophania asked quietly.
"Yes," Chara added. "Do you think Duncan was alone in his deceit?"
"No." Tyr’s admission was soft. He couldn’t avoid answering the direct question, but didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
"Before we send for the dhampir," Amon said with a stark bite to his tone. His low voice rumbled with the primitive beat of his homeland. "What is your judgment of her? What have you discovered?"
"As suspected, she is responsible for the death of Bhaltair," Tyr said. His eyes looked coldly at each of the leaders in turn as he spoke. His stomach twitched. He refused to let them feel his turmoil. He swallowed it into his gut. He felt Shiva’s eyes on him as he spoke. Tyr ignored his friend’s mild disapproval in the curtness of his tale. Tyr had revealed to him the whole story while they traveled. Unable to bear Shiva’s continued censure, he added, "She didn’t kill him, but she did track him and stake him in the chest to slow him for others."
"Then she shall be executed," Vishnu acknowledged with ease. Tyr stiffened at the vampiress’ easy dismal of Jaden’s life. It was as he had expected, but he was not ready to hear the words. "And what of Alan MacNaughton?"
"No, Vishnu," Amon whispered. She turned surprisingly to him. "Let us hear from the dhampir before we condemn her. I am very curious what she has to say for herself."
Amon’s keen senses had picked up on the underlying thread of emotion passing between Shiva and Tyr. He didn’t trust the complete lack of sentiment coming from the Drauger knight. It was unusual for even the hardest of them to feel so little. Tyr was hiding something and Amon was determined to discover what that was.
Tyr kept his eyes sightlessly forward. He felt himself being probed.
"Yes," Ragnhild said quietly. He sensed something amiss as well. "The reports about her have been conflicted. It is said she spares as much as she kills."
"And," Theophania added, "She might know more of her uncle. We should at least explore her before we kill her."
"Osiris," Amon commanded. "What happened on the beach tonight?"
Osiris quickly gave an accounting of the brief battle. The leaders nodded in approval. All except for Pietro, who stared lifelessly at the center flame. Finishing, Osiris said, "MacNaughton was not with them."
"Well done," Theophania said. "Your loyalty is duly noted by this council."
"Yes," Chara said, her eyes roaming over the handsome vampire knights. Licking her lips like a kitten contemplating which saucer of milk to drink from, she murmured seductively, "Well done."
"Ares, Aleksander," Amon said "Your duty is done this night. You may go and seek your leisure. After meeting with Chara and Pietro, you may leave the island."
The two knights nodded, gliding effortlessly from the room. Amon turned his attention to Osiris.
"Osiris," Amon ordered. "Gather the dhampir. Bring her here and then you too may retire."
Osiris nodded, before he too strode from the council hall in a flash of black clothing.
"Tyr, Shiva," Amon acknowledged when the others had gone, "You shall stay to add insight to this judgment. You have been in the company of this woman and surely have rea
d her. Dhampirs can be deceitful in their emotions and thoughts. Reading them is tricky until you learn their manner."
Tyr and Shiva bowed their heads in concurrence and didn’t move. Tyr felt his pulse slowed as he forced his eyes from the door from whence Jaden would come. His mind told him that he didn’t care about her, that she was already dead to him, as she would surely soon be to the world. His mind was answered by his heart that it was all a lie.
* * * *
"Someone is coming. I think it’s time." Jaden whispered to herself. She lifted her head from Rick’s shoulder. The man didn’t attempt to stop her. His arms lay completely motionless at his sides.
Standing, she lightly closed her lips over her teeth, as she blocked Rick from view. She could feel his shallow breathing behind her. She didn’t have it in her to kill him quite yet, so she used all her strength to lull him to sleep. A knight she recognized from the skirmish on the beach threw open the door. Reaching his hand to her, he motioned lightly with his fingers that she was to follow him.
"Come, dhampir," he ordered coldly.
Jaden stepped forward, obeying the beckoning of his golden hand. His tightly curled black hair was bound back at his neck, threaded tight with black beadwork so it didn’t fall. She entered an old stone passageway. The prison door shut firmly behind her with a clink. She blinked slowly, her only reaction to the chilling noise. Torches gave the old hall light. Spiders spun webs over the iron sconces, so thick it was as if they alone held the metal into place. The patterns fluttered aimlessly in the stagnant air as the immortals passed, holding tight ageless dust in their fold.
Her feet echoed softly on the irregular rock, the only noise as the knight moved silently before her. His feet touched the ground but his gait was so unusually light for one of his size that it whispered softly over the stone. Self consciously, she moved her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth the tangled, wayward length. Tucking her longer tresses behind her ear, she wiped at her cheeks, hoping to add a semi-pleasing hue to the ashen features. She knew she looked a fright.
At the end of the long tunnel, past numerous unmarked doors that resembled the one Rick was behind, the knight stopped. Jaden could feel a presence behind some of the prison doors. She knew that only a vampire with honed senses could pull apart the emotions coming from within--some angry, some desperate, some dying and already dead. For a vampire there was no need to mark the doors. Each scent that wafted vividly from the prisoners marked its owner as no word could.
Pulling open a thick oak door at the end of the passageway, the dark knight stepped aside to let her go by. The entryway was blocked by thick velvet drapes, ironically dyed to the bloodiest of reds. Jaden hesitated, glancing at the vampire’s immoveable face and dispassionate eyes before turning back to the doorway. Her vision held tight the softness of the velvet, seeing the innocent brush of texture spreading over the surface like rolling wheat.
Jaden gulped. Her legs turned to jelly, her stomach filled with immovable lead. The knight’s golden features showed a whispering movement as he nodded toward the drapery. His hand swept forward slowly, beckoning her to move on alone.
Closing her eyes, Jaden pushed forward. Her hand fervently sought the soft red only to slide through the velvet, hitting cooler air. Leading with her hand, she stepped between the soft barriers as they brushed erotically over her heightened skin. Her gaze drifted open, unable to remain shut at such a dire time. She was met with the soft orange glow of firelight on gray stone. Across the way, her eyes focused on a mosaic of a medieval vampire amidst his bite.
She could sense eyes focusing in on her, knew that if she turned her gaze only slightly to the side she would see the faces holding those dangerous eyes. She refused to look. Guilt overwhelmed her as she thought of her father, of her life. She tried to fight it, tried her best to hide it away, but the council leaders sensed it easily. Just as she knew they found the emotions in her, she also knew that they would never be able to understand them.
Bowing her head, Jaden stepped forward. She was in the most sacred hall of the vampire, the hall of wisdom and centuries. She was to have her life torn apart and analyzed, summed up and judged. She was set out to slaughter before the dreaded tribal elders, the oldest known killers in existence. And not one of them was happy to see her.
Chapter Fourteen
The tribal elders held quiet in the great hall, each studying and probing the accused dhampir before them. They waited for her to react, unwilling to break her telling silence. Part of their curious pleasure was waiting to see if she would break as so many before her had.
Jaden took a steadying breath. The stagnant air did her no good and sounded abnormally odd in the silent chamber. Feeling many but not hearing anyone, she finally managed to lift her eyes to take in the vampire hall.
Jaden shivered, knowing that salvation for the moment wouldn’t come. She could feel Tyr’s nearness as she stepped into the ring of light that glowed from a torch stand levitating in the middle of a round table. Seven pairs of hostile faces examined her. She stopped. Her blood ran cold in her veins. She searched frantically for Tyr, not seeing him at first. Then, detecting Shiva on the far side of the oversized room, she took another hesitant step forward. Tyr appeared within her vision from behind a brooding tribal leader’s face. Her heart leapt only to fall and crash. He refused to look at her. He was as emotionless as the rest.
Jaden stopped once more. Watching as, one by one, the inspecting faces turned from their detached mask to grim frowns of disapproval. Her eyes darted about, desperate to find deliverance. All she found was unwavering contempt.
She could feel them on her, as if they reached cold invisible hands from the distance to push and probe at her body, to poke at the inner working of her mind. She forced her mind to be blank, dropping her gaze down at the floor to avoid being mesmerized by their eyes.
Black symbols swam before her in a gray stone sea. She felt so alone, so lost. The cold hands wouldn’t stop their inspection. She could feel the tribal leaders sniffing her, touching her most intimately. She was like a helpless sacrifice, tied to a cliff and left to the whim of the kraken, as if the stone would soon part beneath her feet and the mythical sea beast would swallow her whole.
When silence prevailed in the chamber, Tyr finally turned his eyes to the pitiful creature before them. Her frame was thin, her features sunken into the depths of her bony face. The ashen skin pulled skeletal around her cheekbones. Her dark auburn hair was matted, long and thin like a corpse growing old in its coffin.
Blood stained her once white shirt from the wound he inflicted on her neck, reminding him of the elation he had felt when he killed her--the passionate orgasm of her death and rebirth, however bittersweet. Its seeping red pattern edged eerily from the gaping hole in her chest, rewarded to her when she jumped before Rick’s stake aimed for his back. The man had come close to killing her. Dirt and grime from her nights on the floors of crypts stained that which wasn’t dried red. Even under the swaying of her wan body, she was beautiful to him.
She is a liar, a deceiver, a heartlessly cruel wench who is only now remorseful that she is caught, Tyr assured himself with a cool numbness. He refused to feel anything for her, forcing his mind to remember the folder, to remember her deceit, to remember her false words of love. What did either of them know of love? Theirs were lives filled with many things, many undeniable passions and lusts, but never love. Such sweetness would be wasted on them. They could never hold onto it, understand it. Her deceit was a cruel reminder, but effective in its unintentional aim. The memory would serve as a harsh lesson never to crave laughter and light in an endless abyss of black. Hardening, he added silently, And she is a coward, choosing death instead of facing her fate! She will reap the rewards of her deceitful, black heart! If it is in my power, she will live only to feel regret.
Then her eyes lifted from the floor to look at him, detecting his gaze in the oceanic flow of her pain. Tyr’s mind went blank, forgetting the revenge he
had just sworn to. His body convulsed under the dull glaze in her jade eyes. They peered helplessly at him through the tattered depths of her long dark hair. His mind rebelled with the bitter stirrings of pride and reminiscent thoughts of duty and honor. But such things paled in importance. The seam of her lips parted showing her fangs. It was like a kick to his already damned soul. He could’ve let her die there on the floor of his cave. He could’ve spared her this torment, and thus spared himself the torture of inevitability. No matter what she had done, his body still craved to protect her.
But it was too late. She had constructed her prison of fate with her own bloodied hands. Her lies, the actions of her mortal life were laid out before her, carved into the proverbial granite of her past deeds. Although she quaked in the hell of her own making, he wished there was a way he could lift her out of it.
But what could he do? Lie to the council? Lie to the vampire nation he served for so long? And what honor was there in deceit? Could he really sacrifice his morals, his very nature to save her? And if he did, would he lose that last bit of humanity he still carried inside of him? It was that shred of humanity that kept him alive in death. Could he live without resenting her for an eternity? Even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t lie to save her. For, to sacrifice his honor, he would sacrifice everything in him worth keeping. No, he wouldn’t lie. He could only wait for a miracle that would never come.
When it was evident no amount of time was going to give Jaden the courage to continue forward, Tyr stepped around the table. She watched him come for her, unable to help the glimmer of hope shining in the dull pools of her eyes. Tyr stopped under the watchful veil of the council, in the drowning of her pitiful expression. His eyes traveled briefly over her face before he reached out and roughly grabbed her arm.
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