The Vampire and the Highland Empath (a Highland Sorcery novel)

by Clover Autrey

  Roque nearly wept with the miracle of Edeen.

  And an air raid siren pierced the quiet. The world tilted back to reality.

  Frozen, they jerked their gazes to the sky.

  The first bombs dropped. The heavy stuttering drone of planes boomed overhead. The sky grew red. Up the street, the Ardgowan Distillery took a direct hit. The ground vibrated through the soles of their shoes and incendiary bombs dropped like glittering streamers of light in the black sky. More booms and blossoms of red.

  Wine from the distillery ran down the street on fire—a bright beacon for the planes searching out targets. With this much flame, the pilots most likely believed they hit on something huge, like the gasworks or shipyards.

  “We have to get off this street!” Roque practically yanked Edeen into moving. Liquid fire lashed out at their heels. Not fast enough, Roque scooped Edeen up and soared like the dragon he was, feet barely slapping on the pavement.

  Anti-artillery whistled into the sky. Search lights swept dark underbellies of planes, wave after wave. There were hundreds.

  An incendiary bomb slammed down ahead of them, spouting fire, ready to catch on anything that burned.

  Setting Edeen down on the run, Roque dove over it, slapping out flames with his hands. The sleeves of his shirt caught on fire.

  “Roque!” Edeen screamed for him, a knife of fear he hadn’t heard in her tone before.

  He spun just as a claw lashed out at him.

  Already low, Roque rolled to his shoulder and came up swinging.

  Geschopf was here? How was Geschopf here?

  Wulf took the hit, staggering back.

  Air whooshed behind him and there were twin thuds. Roque felt the much slower pulses of vampires as they dropped from the church roof behind him.

  Another dropped near Edeen and a fourth strolled out from behind the burning distillery.

  Geschopf smiled and Roque was a vulnerable child again, heart squeezed so tight in his chest that it would tear out of his ribcage.

  Geschopf stepped toward him. “I will always—“

  Roque didn’t give him a chance to finish, but instead swirled, slamming the side of his arm into the closest vampire’s throat. He dropped like a stone and the second vampire flew into Roque, hauling him backwards, feet dragging across pavement until he slammed into a wall. His head rocked forward and the vampire started pounding his chest. Face. Ribs.

  Growling, Roque struck back. Up under the chin, another to the belly. Grabbing the vamp’s head, he twisted, kicking his feet out from under him and the vampire twisted in a grotesque somersault. A close explosion ripped him off his feet. A building a street over, sugar factory, exploded. Flames flashed in all directions, orange and blue. Burning sugar.

  On his stomach, Roque shook his head, disoriented. He heard Edeen screaming his name. He pulled to his hands and knees.

  Geschopf was also rousing. Still on their feet, the vampires held Edeen between them. She struggled frantically.

  Fury roared through his veins.

  He lunged up to take back what was his.

  Geschopf leapt in his way, shoving so hard, Roque flew back, hitting the ground with jarring force.

  “Take the girl to the boat,” Wulf barked out. His eyes reflected gold in the light of the burning city. “I’ll see to this one.”

  Roque came off the ground like a sprinter, lunging after the vampires dragging Edeen away.

  Something slammed into his side, sliding him across the ground. The blond vampire again.

  They took Edeen.

  He didn’t have time for this. He kicked, he punched, he let his fury fire every hit. Flames erupted across his skin. Someone was screaming, the vampire? Trying to get away, but Roque was beyond mercy.

  “Yes, yes!” Geschopf’s voice echoed as though in a hollow cave. “This is who you are, what I have made you. Extraordinary. Powerful.”

  Roque stopped, shocked. The unconscious vampire hung limp in his bloody hands, clothes on fire, blond hair singed to blackness.

  “No,” Roque gritted out and dropped the vampire to the ground. He squelched his flames out. “No.”

  “You’re a magnificent creature, Roquemore. Unique to the world. Do not waste what you are.”

  Roque grunted, and looked down at the burning vampire. “To destroy? Is that the summation of a creature’s worth?”

  Geschopf raised his fist. A vein bulged in his forehead. “To live fully! I’ve given you a divine purpose, Roquemore—the control to tap into your full potential. You have strength and power never before known. Cease holding back. Embrace the dragon!”

  “For you?” Roque straightened to his full height, hatred for this man, this monster, flaring, boiling heat in his stomach.

  Fire danced behind Geschopf, casting his wide arrogant stance in orange and reds. Roque turned away, no longer a young boy, no longer afraid.

  “Roquemore!” Die Schwarze Klaue roared. An eerie sound crackled across the air, like the scraping of scales dragging across bark.

  Roque twisted back.

  Bones. The reshaping of bones and muscle. Geschopf’s flesh was tearing apart, blood and sinew dripping in soupy ropes as scales, shiny and slick emerged. Clothes burst at the seams, unable to hold the growing mass of muscle and chest.

  Wings unfurled.

  Roque stared into the lengthening snout and glittering golden eye just before the dragon launched at him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The world was noise and flame. Edeen pulled against the vampires dragging her from Roque. Their grips on her arms were too strong. She screamed at them, stomped on their feet.

  One of those small bombs meant to catch things on fire dropped several yards away, immediately sprouting flame.

  Jerking, one of the vampires loosened his hold and Edeen yanked her arm free, raising it to his chest.

  The other grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back.

  “Nein, none of that, Fräulein.” Cold breath whispered across her ear.

  The vampire facing her looked from his chest and back to her. His lips rolled back in a snarl, pulling away from sharp incisors. A feral gleam shot thought his gaze.

  A bomb dropped directly onto his head, throwing Edeen and her captor back. He burst into flame.

  Fire blazed off the fallen vampire.

  Dazed, Edeen lay on her back, across the other vampire.

  Bleeding hells. Rolling off him, she scrambled to her feet and ran.

  In a blur, the vampire cut her off, grabbing her arm as he jerked to a stop.

  There was a sharp crack and she nearly went blind with pain. Her own scream echoed distantly in her head. Her arm, her arm.

  Vision clearing, she lifted her face to the vampire. He looked as shocked at what he’d done as she was.

  And Edeen risked the opportunity, slamming her palm and her essence into his chest.

  They both went rigid.

  Her gift was a chaotic riot, streaming through the man’s emotions like a runaway steed.

  Edeen felt herself whimper, pain erupted behind her eyes.

  Fierce images and emotions rammed into her, powerful, ugly, enhanced by hate and fear. Torture. Geschopf’s laughter as the Black Claw abused this vampire, as he had Roque, creating an army of obedient unquestioning supercharged magical soldiers. Geschopf’s techniques were gruesome, brutal, punching into Edeen. She had to get control of her gift or ‘twould be her who was lost to this terror.

  Judith said the fullness of her gift was just beneath the surface…

  With all that she was and ever had been…daughter, sister, guardian…empath, Edeen went deep, reaching for her gift, seeking the flow of essence uniquely hers.

  As she pulled back into herself, she felt the vampire push, ripping her out of his memories. He was strong, fighting for his life as well as Geschopf’s cause. Geschopf, his torturer, as loyal and obedient to him as a beaten dog to its master.

  Pride swelled within her that Roque, having endured more fro
m Geschopf than this vampire, had not let himself be destroyed.

  The Black Claw had not broken Roque’s spirit.

  Neither would she be broken.

  Her gift pulsed before her, wild and unleashed, whipping out like streaks of flaring lightning, dangerous and lethal.

  The vampire pushed her to the edge, strengthening.

  …and Edeen soared, shot her essence to her core and grabbed onto her gift. Hers.

  She held on, taming, pulling, and guided it back to the vampire and his horrendous fears. She shied from them, and then lowered her head and pressed on, sifting through the awful, awful tortures until she found one to use.

  Geschopf was a monster.

  Vampires healed so the Die Schwarzen Klaue took advantage of that healing ability, and performed monstrosities other creatures could not live through. As the vampire’s intestines were cut out, Edeen guided him there, locking him within that moment, leaving his mind trapped there, and quietly slipped away.

  Her hand dropped away and she was once again in the burning street, chest heaving raggedly. The vampire rolled on the ground, screaming, clawing at his stomach.

  Edeen’s mouth went dry at what she had done. She didn’t know how long he would be trapped there or if he’d remain in the memory forever. She’d never done anything like this before.

  She stiffened her shoulders and pulled her broken arm to her stomach. She couldn’t think on that now. She had to get back to Roque.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She raced through the streets, dodging burning shells of buildings. A bomb hit a home in front of her, blasting out windows. Glass shot out in all directions like crystal arrows. Edeen dropped to the ground. A chair slid across her legs and continued rolling.

  Lunging up, Edeen kept going, trying to find her way through the changing maze of the broken streets. Dark shadows of the flying machines groaned above her, filling the sky with glittering trailing lights. Streaks of brightness whistled up to meet them.

  An otherworldly shriek rang out, penetrating her chest. Edeen froze, before veering toward the direction it came, scrabbling over fallen masonry, clutching her broken arm tight to herself and came upon a scene of nightmare and legend.

  Dragon.

  Within a shell of a church, a dragon shrieked, red muscular neck craned upward in triumph. Orange flames licked across red shiny scales. His claws and scales mid-way up his forelegs shone black.

  ‘Twas a smaller dragon than those depicted on tapestries, barely larger than the height of a man, but wreathed in crimson muscle and an impenetrable hide.

  A man, also on fire, pushed up from the broken floor, lunging at the dragon and was batted away by a great wing, to roll in the air.

  “Roque!”

  The dragon’s head flicked to her, long leathery wings expanding.

  “Noooo!” Roque roared, leaping at the beast.

  A black claw swiped down, thrusting Roque to the ground.

  Screaming, Edeen climbed over debris, trying to get into that church. Geschopf lifted Roque in his claws, twisting his body. He was going to break his spine. Tears streamed over Edeen’s vision. Nay. Nay!. This was not happening. Not to Roque. Not Roque.

  Roque exploded in a showering fountain of energy and light, lifting Edeen off her feet. She hit the ground, wrenching her arm.

  The church spun sideways in her vision. Everything went suddenly quiet. Dust and ash floated around her in a motion too slow to be real and then abruptly everything crashed back into harsh sound and movement.

  From the church, a green dragon lifted into the air, shrieking, trumpeting a challenge.

  Oh gods, Roque.

  He was beautiful.

  Wings sweeping wide, Roque shot off. Shrieking in fury.

  The red dragon expanded his wings like a boast. Jaws widening, he screeched out in triumph. ‘Twas what he’d wanted all along, for Roque to embrace his dragon.

  Edeen’s heart pounded. What if Roque…what if he lost himself to this?

  Bunching his muscles, Geschopf leaped into the air, giving chase.

  The dragons streaked over the city, into the Luftwaffe. Planes veered out of their path.

  Lights from the ground swept over them. Whistling missiles shot upward.

  The dragons crashed into each other, claws locked, spinning, falling through the air. Wind howled through their wings.

  Edeen ran to keep them in sight, losing them behind houses and buildings. She found them again, winging back this way, the green dragon had the red on the run.

  Geschopf shouldered into a plane. It sputtered and fell from the sky, streaking toward Roque.

  Edeen froze, heart hammering, afraid, as Roque banked away beneath the guttering plane and righted himself to soar after the red.

  They came together again, rolling, rolling, spiraling toward the earth.

  Their shrieks filled the air, pitching over explosions and drones of aircraft.

  The green dragon hissed, jaws sprouting flame and a plane erupted in flame and fell from the sky, a sputtering roar, coughing from its tail end with billowing smoke.

  Edeen watched in horror, afraid that Roque didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t care that swiping planes from the sky would fall cause as much damage to the city as the bombs the planes dropped. She clamped her injured arm to herself tight, shaking. What if Geschopf was right? What if Roque was already lost?

  The red’s jaws clamped over Roque’s long neck and he screamed, wings beating the air, pulling all their weight skyward, harder, harder.

  Into the midst of the planes, straight into the path of a large bomber. He wrenched free…

  The plane crashed point on into the red dragon, exploding on impact. Plane and dragon erupted into a fiery ball of light, trailing smoke and large chunks of falling debris. Geschopf beat his fiery wings, trying to launch higher in the air, but he was burning, burning, from the inside. Flames radiated through the center of his belly and his hide, sprouting arcs of fire that shot out onto aircraft trying to veer around him. His wings stroked furiously up and down in an attempt to pull himself upward, but it was too late. Flame whisked across wings, ruining skin and hide, making them glow in the dark sky, until they were useless burning leather that supported him no more. He rolled, spiraling through the air, crashing into planes that smoked and dove out of the sky, screeching in their fatal descents, until Geschopf, completely on fire, shrieked through the air like a whistling comet, dragging clouds of smoke...until all at once, he exploded in a giant concussion of fire and then was no more.

  Chunks of ash, and Edeen didn’t want to consider what else, floated from the sky like burning hail stones.

  But where was Roque? She searched the sky, following the beams from the searchlights, until…there? Nay. A plane screeched past. She swallowed, craning her neck. The smoke and soot hurt her eyes, but still she scanned the skies, and…the green dragon shot across two buildings, wings on fire, streaking fast toward the ground.

  Nay, Roque. Heart in her throat, Edeen ran, trying to keep him in sight. He was close, coming so close, falling fast.

  She rounded a corner, blocked off by a river of burning liquid and Air Raid Protection men, some gremlins, working to put it out.

  She fled down another street, flying out from behind another home, mostly intact, in time to see Roque lose his transformation, change back into a man, and drop behind a broken building.

  He’d never withstand a fall that far. No one could. Vampires heal, vampires heal, her mind screamed. Please, please be all right.

  She skidded into the broken square she thought he had dropped into. The contents of the large building were on fire. Rolls of tapestries or heavy draperies burned…she didn’t care.

  “Roque!”

  Dropping her broken arm to hang painfully at her side, she began rifling through debris, frantic to find him.

  A soft exhalation raised the hairs along her arms.

  She spun.

  She scrambled down into a small crater.r />
  And her heart came to a screeching stop.

  Roque was there. Gods, he was there, laying on his side, facing away from her, one arm stretched back behind him, clothes burned away.

  “Roque,” she whispered, afraid and climbed down beside him.

  He was so still, smoldering and bleeding. With the use of only one arm, she lifted his head and scooted her knee beneath him.

  “Roque.” She patted his cheek, laid her palm above his heart and waited for his chest to rise. She nearly wept with relief when he inhaled.

  “Oh, Roque.” Please let him be himself. Please let him come back to her. She curled over his head as though the closeness could will him back to consciousness. His dark lashes fluttered, and then stilled.

  The planes continued to drone overhead, dropping bombs, a never-ending barrage. Edeen lifted her head at the sound of rock scraping on pavement.

  “Over here. Help us! Please.”

  A shadow moved out of the dark, coming toward them, then stepped into the glowing reflection of the building’s fire.

  Every muscle in Edeen’s body tightened.

  The vampire, the one who broke her arm and who she had left locked in his torturous memories, sneered. His fists clenched. Blood coated his stomach. Madness twisted his features.

  “I’ll help you, bitch. I’m going to snap your other arm and then your pretty little neck.”

  A blur dove between them. More hazy shapes drew out of the night. The gremlin wardens surrounded the vampire.

  One of them spoke, “Not here, not on Scotland soil, ye don’t. Ye filthy, dirty krout.”

  As one, the gremlins swarmed over him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Roque awoke to the pulse of hundreds of heartbeats along with the soft murmur of voices and the scuffling of footsteps. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air tinged with sharp ammonia and the sweet odor of morphine.