“No.” Nothing she did could budge his arms. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?” The flush of anger and humility flooded from her as she tried to shove his arms off of her. “No! You can’t be serious?”
“Stop thinking that way, pet. I can still feel the ache of your ribs in my own side, so let me have a look.” He released her and she sat up, her back to him in a desperate act to hide her face. “I don’t have all day.”
Reluctantly she removed her shirt, exposing herself to him made her feel even more vulnerable. The deep red and black that painted her side looked cruel against her skin. Cedric’s hand gently slid across it and she flinched for a moment fearing any pressure on the mark. Every breath she took he could feel the sharp pang that she was receiving in his own lung and side. Her injury was far more serious than she even realized and was lucky not to be coughing up any blood. He slid his hand down and across the top of her hip as goose bumps scattered across her skin. Grabbing the chimera hilt of her dagger, he pulled it free, earning a bewildered glance from Angeline.
Sitting next to her, he ran the blade across his palm, sending only pleasure her way and with it, slicing the edge off her panic. Encouraging his cut to bleed and blood to pool in his palm, he quickly started rubbing it into her side. Shoving her down on the bed, he applied overwhelming pressure that came to Angeline as nothing more than pure bliss.
Her body was heating up under his hands as she moaned in pleasure. He ran the blade across the mark and she trembled in excitement as she screamed and panted in response. A grin crawled across his face as he worked his own blood into her cut. Sweat started pouring from her and his incubine side was drinking up every wave of arousal she was giving him. The more he worked her side, the smaller her mark grew. His newfound wealth of knowledge was already serving him with great assistance. If he had known that his blood was capable of healing others, her ring finger would not be crooked. The cut on her side was closing, the pain of the broken rib no longer existing. Rolling her to her back, he leaned down licking her from her navel to her neck, allowing the incubus inside him to continue to soak in her ecstasy. Angeline shivered in excitement, her pulse racing as he began sucking on her neck, his fangs lightly catching her skin, but never going any further than that.
Cedric took a firm grip on her crooked finger as he worked his lips to her ear, suckling on her earlobe making her hum. He could feel that each time his breath grazed her neck it would cause a pulse of delight from her. She was shaking in her frenzy of exhilaration.
His whisper came to her, “I think I do love you after all, Angeline.”
With a ragged motion, the loud crack flooded her eardrums and she felt the eerie sensation of her bone breaking away in the finger he had been gripping so tightly. A gasp fled her lips and she screamed as her back bowed from an orgasm like no other she had felt before. Straddling her, he jerked her hand and finger to his lips, his teeth skimming across her skin. Sitting there on top of her, Cedric’s green eyes grabbed hers and she watched as he sunk one of his fangs into her finger, the other piercing his own tongue. The sensation astounded her for a moment as she watched him work, never breaking their gaze. He sucked on her finger, keeping it as straight as possible in doing so, despite his animalistic manner. The bloods in his mouth mixed and did their work to correct what he failed to fix before. Releasing her finger, she could see that it was healed and straight. He leaned forward, kissing her passionately as the taste of his blood invaded her mouth causing her skin to quiver with delight as she clung to him.
#
Angeline woke still clinging to Cedric’s chest as he slept. She stared at her left ring finger, no longer crooked or discolored as it lay across his skin. For the first time, she actually felt like his lover. Despite his lascivious manner, it was the first time that he allowed himself to openly love her without some emotional barrier in place. The passion and want that she felt flooding out of him came in every action he performed. It was tender and strong, and it took all she had to catch her breath at each turn. Hugging onto him tighter, he stirred and rubbed her arm as he kissed the top of her head.
Daylight crept out of the crack of the thick curtain, casting its light across their naked bodies. Her fingers rubbed across some of his scars, curious as to why he had so many with the healing power he possessed. His hand covered hers swamping it with its warmth as his eyes met hers with the softest stare she had ever received from him. The smirk that came to his lips only caused her to smile in response as waves of emotions blended together in a torrent between the two of them. They had found peace for the first time with one another and the bond that had been created under forceful circumstances took a calmer stance.
“Why do you have so many scars?” She furrowed her brow as she lifted up her hand to expose the one she had been rubbing on his chest. “You heal so quickly yet these seem like old wounds?”
“It’s my way of remembering mistakes.” Taking in a deep breath, he sat up stretching his arms out. “I can choose not to heal and leave behind a mark. I suppose it is a form of self-punishment for making the wrong choices. That one was a cheap shot from Romasanta as he fled Williamsburg. Let’s wash up, we have a lot to do still.”
#
As they left Vladimir’s manor, there had been no good byes or even another encounter with him or Charlotte. Barushka was happy to see Angeline as she walked out into the bright of day, her wounds healed and her shoulders free of burdens of the mind and heart. They travelled down the path, passing through the ruins of the village, the corpses were gone, not even a single bone to be found. The dirt even appeared cleansed of the blood that had soaked it during their battle. Cedric released an ear-shattering whistle as he brought Barushka to a halt. Two werewolves bounded out of the nearby trees, bowing before them and no longer behaving like animals. They panted, drool oozing from their doggish lips as they obediently waited for the next command, tails wagging.
“How can I find Romasanta?” Cedric glowered down at them, his jaw twitching at the thought. “Where is your creator hiding?”
“We do not know, Master.” A whimper came from both of them as they looked to one another, ears flattened and tails tucked under. “But we can provide some information.”
“Go on then, what do you have?” Barushka stifled as one of them barked back into the woods, signaling for a gray colored werewolf to stagger out. “You know something about Romasanta’s whereabouts?”
“Yes, Master.” The gray one bowed deeply, exposing the knotted scars that ran across his back. “I unfortunately crossed into his territory once and received my fitting punishment. He travels with lepers, my Lord. Find them, and you shall find him.”
“Lepers you say?” A frown crossed his face as he looked at his new servants. “Thank you for the information. I should be able to track him down on my own.”
“Sire, I recommend you travel to the west. One of our smaller hunting packs caught wind of a large group of lepers and merchants traveling towards a large trader’s village.” They all wagged their tails excitedly and began panting once more. “We hope this makes up for our disrespect from the other night.”
“It does. Thank you.” Cedric sighed as he stared down at them, a wave of sympathy leaked into Angeline who shared the same feeling towards the werewolves. “You may continue what you were doing before.”
#
It took Cedric and Angeline weeks before they managed to come across the sound of bells. Bandaged and wearing rags for clothes, the pack consisted of men, women, and even children that all rang bells in a ritualistic way as Barushka approached them. It had been a law of the land for any leper or diseased person to warn other travelers of their condition. Many of them had been given their bells from their hometown friends and family before exiling them to this sad life of weathering the elements until their bodies and life gave way to death. The sounds of rattling coughs and smells of decaying infectious flesh engulfed the air around the small group, making the rhythm of the ringing
a more daunting sound. Angeline pulled her turtleneck up over her nose, trying to limit her exposure and hoping to drown the smell out. Barushka even gave a snort, but still took a moment to get a giggle out of one of the sickly children that looked up at him in awe.
“Greetings!” Cedric’s voice boomed over the ringing, demanding a moment of silence. “I am looking for a man by the name of Romasanta.”
After a few moments of whispering, a man with a cane responded in a coarse voice, “Yes, we know him. He is a merchant who often joins us in travels and supplies us with food and goods. I believe he is still in Cerdanya, but the town can be unfriendly if you do not speak Kerretes or Catalan. Not everyone has accepted English as the new trade language you see.”
“I can speak both. Thank you,” Reaching into one of the satchels, Cedric pulled a small pouch of gold and tossed it to the man. “May this provide you some aid on your travels. Are you headed to the Leper’s Colony?”
“Aye! Bless you, my son!” the group groveled at Barushka’s feet, some looked as if they were not capable of standing again after doing so. “We bid you a safe journey!”
With a few taps of his heels, Barushka started into a gallop down the road. When they had managed to gain enough distance Cedric finally snorted and rubbed his own nose, their scent numbing his sensitive sense of smell. The closer they came to Cerdanya, the larger the road grew as more and more side paths joined it like streams into the torrent waters of a river. More and more travelers and wagons started gathering until it became so crowded that Barushka had no other choice than to slow his canter and fall back to a walk. Angeline enjoyed seeing all the different people and outfits. The colors of the strange fabrics she saw were mind-blowing to her. Her ears struggled to catch the foreign languages whispered between merchants and travelers as they haggled over items and prices. The view she held of the world was expanding at every turn that Cedric took her down.
Passing through a heavily guarded gate, they came into the main street where many wagons and shops were set up. Goods of all kinds lay across blankets and tables; Weapons, armor, food, and leathers of all types embellished the sides of the street as far as the eye could see. They both dismounted; nodding to one another, they each took a side of the street in hopes of finding information faster. Cedric switched languages with the greatest of ease as he pulled from his inherited knowledge. So far they had shrugged and knew no one by that name, but suggested he ask a few of the other men deeper down the street. It wasn’t uncommon to hear of a merchant traveling with lepers, but not very many admit it openly in fear of losing customers.
Angeline stood for several minutes in front of the first merchant, gawking at all the weaponry, lost in her own thoughts. Finally, the merchant spoke to her, but she did not understand anything he was saying. She lowered her turtleneck trying her best to illustrate and say she did not speak his language. Looking her over and catching a glimpse at the bow and chimera hilt, he switched to English. Her Ranger persona must have given her more acclaim than she realized and the man greeted her in a heavy accent.
“Lady Ranger! Welcome! What is it that you look for?” The golden tooth glinted in the sunlight as he bowed his head to her. “A weapon, perhaps?”
“Yes,” She was slow to respond as she turned her glare back to the display of items. “I was thinking of a special blade for my Lord.”
“Ah! I have many blades!” He made a sweeping motion with his arms. “What kind did you have in mind for your Master and Lord? A dagger? Short blade? Perhaps a new sword for tournament fights?”
“What kind of enchanted blades do you have?” His smile faded and the scowl she received was not very comforting. “I did not mean to offend you. I’m so sorry.”
“It is ok.” Shouting in his strange language, he clearly asked an old man sitting on the ground behind him something. After a moment of back and forth he turned back to her. “You are looking for magical items, yes? You should see the merchant further down the street. Many of us fear to carry such dangerous items.”
“Yes, thank you for the help.” She pulled her turtleneck back up, bowing lightly to him as a form of thanks. “How will I know it’s him?”
“He will have a large assortment of women’s attire and jewelry. He is a tall white man, broad shoulders and one of the tallest merchants I have ever seen. I believe he goes by the name Blanco.” He pointed down the street to a back corner area, motioning with his hand that it is right where the street takes a slight bend to the left. “He usually sets up in that small outlet. Good luck, my Lady Ranger.”
It took her a while to work her way through the crowded streets. Cedric had warned her that the busier the street the more likely one’s money will be lifted from their belongings. She was careful not to bump into other pedestrians in fear of being mistaken for a pickpocket and dodged several shady characters with hungry eyes that seemed to lean towards her. Occasionally she received a double look from the various men who made up the majority of the travelers here. It was hard to say if they were shocked to see a Demon Hunting Ranger, since no one else was dressed like her, or had realized she was female and not a young man. Shivering from the idea, she pulled her hood over her head a tad more to regain confidence that her face was hard to make out. Cedric had beaten it into her that she was to wear shades of black and green, insisting on certain types of attire and had given her symbols to pin to her clothing. Her boots laced to just above her knees, a short hooded cape sat over her shoulders where she wore a long sleeve turtleneck accented with a laced up vest that help push her breast tight to her body. Its design optimized her abilities as an archer, and being a female it was very important that men they came across in their travel could not tell so easily. It also allowed her breast to be suppressed and not block her posture for a proper shot. She had seen huge improvements in her archery thanks to the outfit.
Reaching the nook just off the main street, she approached the blankets covered in merchandise. Jewelry, belts, and dresses filled them and the designs made her cousin’s collection look like it belonged to a street sweeper’s wife. Looking about she saw no one, but took a moment to squat, taking a closer look at the assortment of rings. The variety of jewels and precious stones amazed her as she picked up one particular ring with its eye-catching deep blue gem. It was teardrop shaped with small pearls on either side as the gold braid band made its loop around. I wonder if it would fit?
“That one is cursed, they say.” She dropped the ring as the deep voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “I’ll sell it for half the price its worth. I have had no luck with selling that one.”
“Excuse me, are you Blanco?” Standing, Angeline brushed her knees off and looked up at the brown eyes of the man that easily beat Cedric by several inches. “I am looking for enchanted blades.”
“I am Blanco, and that’s a tall order you are asking for.” He scratched his short beard for a moment as he stared at her, snorting for a moment. “But for you, Lady Ranger, I think I can oblige. I keep such wares in my wagon, you will have to follow me into the alley to the recently burned out courtyard. It no longer bares signs of the plague, but many do not mess with me there. It has been a long while since I’ve seen a demon hunting Ranger in this area, but it was common to have them ask for such items.”
“Do you have very many blades?” Angeline watched as he rolled and folded the blankets so that he could lug the merchandise over his shoulders. “I want to buy a blade for my Lord.”
“I have several enchanted and cursed blades. So Lady Ranger, who is your Lord?” She followed him down the alley, feeling safe seeing that his hands were full of his own merchandise. “I do not see Rangers or Ladies here in Cerdanya very much. I have traveled far and wide and it is pleasant to see people not from my homeland here.”
“I am Lady to the Lord Romulus.” It was awkward to say it, but it was the truth and the correct way of answering such a question. “Have you heard of him?”
“Lord Cedric de Romulus. The demonic knight
from Williamsburg,” He grunted as he repositioned the heavy blankets of goods on his shoulders. “Si, I’ve heard of him. Met him once before in fact.”
#
Cedric was growing more and more annoyed as he went from one merchant and the next. Bouncing between what felt like a dozen or more people, all of them reluctant to answer his questions. Mentioning anything about lepers was shutting down any further information and he was running out of ways to ask. There were so many scents in the air in town making it impossible for him to smell Romasanta out. His nose and senses had been flooded the moment they came within visual range of the lepers and their diseased flesh. Now in the busy commotion of Cerdanya, the smells were thicker, besides the smell of spices and foreign cured leathers, there was the pungent burnt smell of wood and flesh from the recent fires to free a section of the town from the Black Plague.
He doubled back and started on Angeline’s side. Looking around, he walked up the street but could not see her in the crowds of people. Huffing he knew she was fine. If she were in danger, he would have felt her signal, the same one she had managed to use when she ran into the chimeras. He approached the merchant that he had seen her first speak to before he got distracted with the reactions from the other merchants. His selection held a wide variety of weapons of Arabic design but he spoke in the local tongue, Kerretes. It was still awkward to Cedric’s ears and tongue to jump through languages in a blink of an eye. There was so much that his new abilities had to teach him and the knowing without experiencing firsthand was hard to comprehend. It was like trusting something he could not see nor confirm that it really existed, but just needed to let it perform in the open for reassurance. His ears honed in on the private conversation as he stood there.
“Did you say something about blades of magic?” Cedric’s Kerretes carried no accent and he caught the attention of both the elderly man and the merchant as he eavesdropped into their conversation. “I am shocked to hear that someone would risk carrying that sort of merchandise.”
Cedric the Demonic Knight Page 17
