“I’m sorry.” Closing his eyes, he sighed as she hugged her arms around him sobbing. “This was all a mistake coming after Romasanta. Every instinct told me not to come. I never meant for this to go so sour, pet.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her arms dropped and she walked away.
After a moment, he turned to face the blotched face of Angeline, who sat on the bed. The fierce look in her eyes was captivating as he approached her. Staring up at him, she had managed to keep the tears back after struggling so hard. The bitter bite of the tone she carried was striking him hard but it did nothing to belittle the fleshly wants that made his blood rush. Pulling her shirt off, she leaned her head and neck, as if offering it to him. The motion enraged him and he shoved her back on the bed, his left hand on her throat as he snarled at her. His left arm only sent the two of them into a heated pant. Trembling under his weight, fear took its place in her eyes as she realized how much more aggressive he was when the black hair of his Incubus side was in full bloom. Despite the arousal from the touch of his skin, she couldn’t stop the racing of her heart as panic seeped forward.
“I don’t want your blood.” Cedric growled, still holding her throat. “And I am in no mood for your tantrums.”
She swallowed in response and after a minute she weakly replied, “It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” Releasing his hold on her throat, he gave her a sorrowful look. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, but it can’t be helped.”
She opened her mouth, but was loss for any words to come out.
“I don’t want you to hate me, but if it makes you feel better, you may do so. Yes, I am a broken creature and that is just part of what I am. This thing you lay with, that you call your Lord, is no man. I am your demon, and you, you are my Angel.” Leaning down he gave her a kiss of longing and her lips returned the emotion without hesitation. “Forgive me for being so reckless with both our lives.”
He tried to pull away but she grabbed his arm, the pain pausing him in his movements. The look of hurt on her face caught his attention. Laying back beside her, he scooped her into his arms, ignoring the crackling of the bone that struggled to reconnect and heal. Nuzzling her neck, he kissed it gently, feeling the goose bumps flow across her skin. A smile crept across his face as a wave of arousal washed over him from her. She kissed his arms gently and rubbed her cheek against them, treasuring the security she felt. He was her shield and she had failed to be anything for him. In her daze of thoughts, she felt his finger slide something onto her left ring finger. Pulling her hand into her line of sight, she looked in awe at the blue sapphire and shining pearls that fit too elegantly on her finger.
“You’re the only one I want.” His lips tickled her ear as he spoke. “I truly love you and want to live for only you.”
Spinning in his arms, she rubbed his jaw, blood still staining his face from his collision into the wall, “I love you, Cedric. You are far better than any man I have ever met, and you have given me so much. I am your Lady, and you are my Lord.”
#
Romasanta was in the Tavern when Cedric finally made his way back downstairs. He had not vanished as he had feared, and as Cedric sat next to him, he ordered him some mead. After several minutes of sitting and drinking in silence, Romasanta spoke.
“I see you recovered rather quickly.” He took down the last of his clear drink as he shot Cedric a side-glance. “Quite impressive, did you drink from her?”
“No.” Cedric paused from his mead and shot an angry glare. “I have other ways to absorb energy needed to heal.”
“Ah, I forgot about that.” Speaking in Kerretes, he asked for a bottle of vodka and poured himself another glass. “Being an incubus has its perks I would imagine. If I could hump anything and get some sort of nourishment from the act, I would never stop! Ha!”
“Speak for yourself. It’s a troublesome talent if you ask me.” He finished the mead and looked curiously at Romasanta’s colorless drink. “What is this vodka that you drink?”
“Oh! This is a new drink, have some.” He generously poured some into Cedric’s mug. “Go on! It’s made by the lepers from the stores of potatoes they have.”
“It barely has a smell to it and it looks like water.” Cedric raised an eyebrow before taking a gulp, which resulted in a few rounds of coughing. “And it has a stout bite. This is most foul.”
“Just watch, it’ll stick for centuries to come.” Romasanta grinned wide as he poured more for himself. “Now, I have been thinking, pup. You plan to go to war against Morrighan, si?”
“If I can pull together an army,” He took in the vodka at a slower pace. “But I will need to find a lot more of your mutts to be able to get enough to have a slight chance of breaching the frontlines and castle gates.”
“I assumed you would take advantage of that trait.” Leaning back, Romasanta scratched at his beard a moment. “Don’t think this is to help you, but it’s just convenient timing. There are a few things I have wanted to do, and this seems like a good time to invest my time for a change.”
“You mean to tell me you have plans and wants?” Cedric gave him a smug smile. “I am curious to hear what these things are.”
“Well, I can get you your army within the week.” Cedric frowned and Romasanta saw the concerned look he wore on his face. “Being the Father of Werewolves, my call takes priority over their vampiric masters. A lot of strigoi these days have been collecting my offshoots like weeds and then encouraging their growth via breeding or ravaging towns. I am responsible for letting the curse to boil over so much. I will call them to arms and lead the war efforts on your behalf in hopes of annihilating the cursed ones and the chimera abominations from the earth.”
“Is that all? You only wish to wipe out chimeras, your cursed underlings, and make a clean slate again?” The tavern keep gave him another mug of mead as Cedric leaned back, staring at Romasanta. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes.” He guzzled the last of the vodka from the bottle and slammed it on the table. “You must kill Boto.”
“I hope to kill him and Morrighan.” Cedric snorted as he washed the vodka flavor from his tongue with the mead. “It is the reason why I am going to war.”
“You did not hear me, pup. You must kill Boto.” His tone darkened as he leaned towards Cedric, the brown eyes faded to yellow. “That creature has crossed me one time too many, and if you dare to spare his life, I will devour your Lady Ranger. I have grown tired of Boto as the King Incubus. It is long overdue for a new King to take his place.”
“How do you suppose I assure his death then?” Pissed at the threat, Cedric’s jaw twitched as he stared into the eyes of a devil. “I have had no luck finding information on how to insure I kill him.”
“You are his offspring. That is all that is required in their caste for one to kill another. To be the strongest incubine you simply have to hold some blood in your veins of being one and the ability to defeat the current King.” Romasanta snorted, appalled and frustrated to have to explain so much. “You are too wet behind the ears. Perhaps I am putting too much faith into you.”
“Then I should be fine. Boto will not live, if that’s what it takes to keep your filthy teeth out of Angeline’s ribs.” Cedric earned a wicked grin from Romasanta. “This is a deal that stands for the rest of her lifetime, yes? That you and your mutts are to never to harm her as long as I hold up my end of the bargain.”
“Si, it holds true.” They both returned to leaning on the table, indulging in their drinks in silence.
Chapter Nineteen: Army versus the Pack
Barushka shook his head as he and Angeline watched Cedric and Romasanta stand on a hilltop comparing a map to the landscape. It had been unsettling to be travelling with something like the Father of Werewolves. More disturbing was to hear the occasional werewolf running in the woods about them, or one appearing to make its report and vanishing again. After being overwhelmed in the small village by Vladimir’s castle, it was unnervi
ng to think she would soon be seeing the complete population of Romasanta’s cursed ones. In smaller packs, they were easy to take down, but the larger the pack, the more impossible of a feat it becomes. Somewhere out of sight, just deep enough in the woods was an army of werewolves awaiting the command to charge the field.
Chills ran across her skin at the realization, despite the heat of the sun that glared down at her. Spring was in full swing, and not even a chill on the breeze remained. It was so beautiful to watch the flowers sway in the wind down in the valley past the hillside from where they stood. Unfortunately, the black castle obstructed the peaceful scene. Morrighan’s cathedral of dark magic looked like Death standing in the distance as dragon-sized vulture-like creatures circled above it as if zeroing in on a corpse. This was where they would wage war. She had asked Cedric why he was continuing to chase after this suicidal attempt, but all he did was furrow his brow and kept silent as his jaw muscles tightened. He was no longer chasing the same vengeful emotion as before. Those breathtaking waves of emotion had subsided sometime after leaving Vladimir’s estate. There was a new silence in any emotional reaction from him since his fight with Romasanta.
Behind her, she heard the rustling of the bushes and much to her relief she saw Wylleam. He nodded his dog-like head as he passed by and approached the two men. She watched as Romasanta and Wyll shook hands, and the ruffling of Wylleam’s hair and mane was hard not to take notice. Romasanta’s power was visible, and it astonished her why she had not seen it that first moment she had met him. There was no mistake he was ancient and that there was something in this fight for him. Otherwise, why would someone as smart and skillful as the Father of Werewolves bother to involve himself in a war? Looking over at Cedric, she caught his green eyes and he once more wore a look of concern. Seeing Cedric’s distraction, Wylleam looked back at her and his long ears flattened as if he knew of what troubled his friend. All she could conclude is that he was going to war with Morrighan for her sake. A bargain or threat held Cedric in its strings using her at the core.
“The spirits are in quite the uproar over this.” Wyll had turned back to Romasanta. “I cannot sleep for their cries are so loud. Despite this, they understand the intentions and give you both their blessings to clean up the messes that have been made. One voice discourages this event, and that is the ancestor of Angeline. You both must watch her whereabouts in this battle; something may go wrong according to that one. That spirit knows too much about the things to come. I do not enjoy listening to neither the old witch’s ramblings nor her anger.”
“Tell her to show herself if she’s got an issue with my on goings. She chose me against my will for her descendant to bind with. It cannot be undone because what I do displeases the old hag.” Scoffing Cedric looked over the map once more. “Should we follow one of the packs that will be providing an attack from the sidelines?”
“No, Morrighan and Boto will both be focused on your location above all else. I will provide a distraction in the heat of battle, east of the gates here. No one will be expecting for me to join this fight. This should draw both their attention long enough for my elite pack members to open a line for Barushka to lead you swiftly into the gates. Reserve your strength; let the dogs do the fighting. If you are to succeed, you need all your energy for Boto.” Sniffing the air for a moment, Romasanta then refocused on the map. “It seems the last pack just arrived within the territory. We will rest here tonight and ready ourselves for war tomorrow.”
“Right, we will follow your lead, Romasanta.” Cedric rolled up the map and handed it to him. Exchanging stern looks, they guaranteed one another of the verbal contract made in Cerdanya. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to catch up with my friend.”
“Understood,” Romasanta shook Wylleam’s hand once more, showing the upmost respect for the Shaman. “I regret meeting you under such circumstances. Take care, Shaman.”
“Same here.” Shuddering off the weight of Romasanta’s aura, Wylleam returned to where Barushka stood. “Good to see you well, Angeline.”
“Same to you, Wylleam.” It was clear there would not be any answers to why she was the center of attention. “Am I staying in camp for the battle or riding with you, Cedric?”
“You will ride with me.” Cedric rubbed the bridge of Barushka’s nose, avoiding eye contact with Angeline. “I want you close, where I can see and protect you best.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” After watching Cedric for a moment, she nodded to Wylleam. “Let me get back to camp then. I have a lot of preparing to do and gear to mend. Farewell.”
Cedric watched as she disappeared down the backside of the hill before turning to Wylleam, “Thank you for coming.”
“You are my close friend.” Walking over to an old fallen log, he took a seat laying his Shaman’s staff across his lap. “My place is to come to your aid and support. Though, I must ask you something, and though the spirits tell me, I would like to hear the truth from you. Why are you still chasing after Morrighan? Angeline has become quite the woman, nothing of the naïve girl she was before seems to be there when I first met her.”
“I have been given no choice.” Cedric flopped onto the grass, lying out on his back, staring at the passing clouds. “Romasanta has made it clear that if I fail to kill Boto, then he will kill Angeline. I am doing this for her. It is no longer about me. I am a mere bug in comparison to the mountain of power that Romasanta truly is.”
“Then you will succeed.” Cedric looked over at his doggish friend in confusion. “Revenge never ends well for anyone, but you are in the position of protecting something you love. Nothing can beat the strength of the heart and soul.”
“You have been against this all this time, yet you flip so easily despite the bad news.” He rubbed his face with the palms of his hand. “Before I die tomorrow, I wish to hear what it was that the spirits in Williamsburg told you. Can you do this for a friend staring at his future grave?”
“If it would ease your mind, I will tell you. They had a wish for you in the end.”
“What kind of wish would a town that I destroyed have in store for me?”
“They hoped for you to find love again, and a reason to live with it.”
Cedric took a deep and unsteady breath as he returned his gaze to the stream of clouds above. Emotions and thoughts flooded his mind as he mulled over Wylleam’s words. Clenching his teeth, he did not know whether to be upset, angry, or happy.
Did you all really forgive me so quickly? Why! I destroyed everyone, everything was taken from them, and I was to blame. Who forgives a murderer, a demon that lived under false pretenses? Whether I knew it at the time was irrelevant. I don’t deserve to be forgiven, let alone wished to have happiness and a prosperous life. Father, my dear Yvette, I don’t understand…
He crushed his palms in his eyes, demanding the tears not to come. Desperately, he pushed them back, begging his emotions to stay away. It all hurt so much. It wounded me so deeply to lose everything I had the first time, and if I lost it all again—
“You should have a reason to live.” Wylleam’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Is that not what your father told you? That the day he found you, he found life again?”
“Why do you torture me so!” Hiding his face under his hands, he could not hold the tears back. “Damn you, Shaman. You hear the spirits too well.”
“It’s a gift and a curse, my friend.” Wylleam looked up at the sky to watch a few finches flyby. “Life is a fleeting thing that we all strive to chase and hold in our hands. To think you can protect it with just your own two hands is foolish. It is something the earth gifts us before taking it back when she sees fit. In the end, life was never ours to own or hold. We can only cherish what is given to us, whether it is sour or sweet, it is a blessing to experience the chance to walk the earth before retiring into her arms again.”
“Thank you…” Wiping away the last of the tears, he regained his composure. “I could not imagine hearing the
whispers of so many spirits. I should be thankful that my family and friends from that time loved me enough to bless me instead of bestowing a curse.”
“Speaking of which, I wanted to also ask of the curse you bare.”
There was a moment of silence as Cedric pounded his fist against the ground from where he lay, “I know. It has not left my thoughts either. It is the reason why I am hating myself so much for falling for her. A curse for someone to experience the worse heartbreak ever is a dangerous curse. Whatever end I receive will have to surpass what I have already experienced, and that only doubles for Angeline on her recoil for cursing a demon, or technically, a demonic creature of magic.”
Angeline’s words echoed through Cedric’s mind from that night at the fire when they met Barushka, “If I knew how to curse someone, I hope that you experience the worst heartbreak ever.”
“So you are aware of it?” Wylleam scratched under his long and massive jaw as he pondered his friend’s way of thinking. “And does she know?”
“I don’t think she even realizes what she has done.” Sighing in exasperation, Cedric sat up and looked his friend in the eye. “There was no mistaking the sensation when she spoke the words. If you are still seeing it there, then the curse has not come to pass for either of us. The question is which of the two will strike first, the one she bestowed or her own recoil for laying it on me.”
“Have you told her?” His jaws opened as he panted like a dog from the heat of the day. “Or is this one of those times that you see it best that the girl enjoy what little of a normal life that remains?”
“It’s been a while since I have thought about the matter of the curse and telling her.” He rubbed the side of his jaw before continuing. “I decided that it is best for her sake to not know. If I had known of my existence, I would have missed some of my best memories. She will have to learn a hard lesson about cursing those of the magical sorts.”
“It is your issue, and if she had been aware of her bloodline’s dangers, it would have been prevented.” Standing up, Wylleam walked over to Cedric, lending him a hand to stand. “I pray that it does not end with either of your lives being shortened. Good luck tomorrow, and sorry I am not in the position to help you in your battle, both the war and curse.”
Cedric the Demonic Knight Page 19
