Her Warrior for Eternity

by Susanna Shore

  She stopped abruptly and he almost ran into her. Instantly on alert, he looked around to locate the source of her alarm. Across the street, a young human man was breaking into her car.

  Jeremy shook his head at the idiot. Surely the boy understood that a car that expensive was not only fully alarmed but equipped with a tracking device too. And even if he somehow got into the car, Jeremy would have no trouble removing him again.

  But Cora didn’t come to think of that. “Hey!” And she charged at the thief. Jeremy froze for a fraction of a second in surprise. Then he followed her.

  He had superhuman speed and reflexes, but he was concentrating on her when he should have paid attention to the car thief. He saw too late that the bloke was aiming a gun at Cora.

  Straining his body to a maximum, he leaped towards her just as the shot rang out. All the morning birds burst into flight in a huge flock, darkening the sky. He collapsed in the middle of the road, Cora in his arms, protected by his body. For a few heartbeats he lay there, stunned from the impact with the ground. Then he realised her heart wasn’t beating. She was listless and she smelt of blood.

  The world as he knew it ended.

  Chapter Twelve

  The car thief was dead before he could put the gun away. In his fury, Jeremy would have drained him too, as it was only right that the blood of his enemy sustain him. But Cora needed his attention.

  She wasn’t breathing. Her heart wasn’t beating. There was a hole in her stomach, drenched in blood. His hands shaking, he lifted her gently in his arms and carried her to his borrowed car, where he lay her down on the ground.

  He gathered all the Might energy he was able, pushing himself to his limits to hold it, and summoned every bit of magic in his disposal. He wasn’t able to heal with magic, but he created a seal on the wound to stop it bleeding. Then he set out to make her heart beat again. He knew basic human CPR, but magic was faster. He had jolted hearts into operating before. All that was needed was an electric shock, and magic would provide that.

  It took three tries and almost all his energy to make her heart beat again, but she wasn’t in the clear yet. The pulse was weak and her breathing was shallow. He had to get her to a healer, and fast. Lifting her up, he put her in the front seat of the car, adjusting her as best he could. She would have been more comfortable on the back seat, but he couldn’t feed Might energy into her if she was at the back. Humans couldn’t benefit from Might, but he hoped that her vampire gene would make her more receptive to it.

  It was the only chance she had.

  In a hurry though he was, he took a moment to haul the body of the assailant into the boot. It wouldn’t do to leave him where anyone could find him. He would have cleared the blood off the street too, but he couldn’t spare the energy or time for it. Then he got behind the wheel and drove.

  There were hospitals nearby, one right by the park, but he didn’t trust any of them. He had seen enough death to know that human doctors couldn’t do anything for her. He needed someone better, someone who was able to heal with magic.

  He needed Alexander Hamilton, Lord Foley. But he was in Epsom, a good twenty minute drive on the motorway, and it would take at least another twenty minutes driving through London before he was on it.

  As the ill luck would have it, he didn’t have a mobile and the borrowed car didn’t have one either. He needed to warn Alexander, to make him prepare for the healing. The damage to Cora was massive, and even the strongest of vampires would need extra energy for it.

  Out of options, he tried to reach Jas mentally, but couldn’t find the familiar mind. Frantic now, he searched for any mind close enough that would be receptive for his call.

  What?

  Gabriel. Jeremy could have wept. I need you to contact your father. Cora’s been shot and I want him to heal her.

  Can’t you take her to a hospital?

  No.

  Gabe didn’t ask more questions but just disappeared from his mind. If things went Jeremy’s way, it was to contact Alexander.

  The one-way streets and traffic lights stood no chance as Jeremy broke all rules, regulations, and speed limits to reach the motorway. Once there, the commuters were travelling towards London, so, the road almost empty before him, he pushed the car to its limit.

  The roads and country lanes off the motorway towards Ewell were bendy and narrow and ill-suited for his speed, but he didn’t care. He had superhuman vision and reaction speed, and the car responded nicely to him. In no time at all, though all too slowly for his liking, he reached the main gate of the manor.

  It took forever for the warrior manning it to identify him and longer still for the electronic gate to open. The gap was barely wide enough when he drove through, scraping the paint off the sides of the car as he did so. Once he was through, the three mile drive to the house took only moments to cover.

  He drove straight to the east wing where their infirmary was. He had barely got out of the car when the door opened and Jas exited the building, ready to help him. Jeremy wouldn’t let his brother touch Cora, but carried her in and onto an operating table himself.

  To his utter relief, Alexander was already standing by the table, formidable as always, though wearing only a pair of jeans as if he had been woken up.

  “Please, heal her.”

  Alexander frowned. No one asked him to do anything, even politely. He was a force of his own, the king among their kind. Jeremy’s bones froze for the fear that Alexander would refuse, but his leader turned to Cora. He ran his hands along her body, over the wound and her heart. She was still alive, sustained by Jeremy’s constant feeding of Might into her during their drive, but even he could tell that she was hanging by a thread.

  As they watched, she stopped breathing. And then she died.

  Jeremy wasn’t aware he had been about to jump on her, to force her to live again, to do anything, until his momentum was halted by strong hands that grabbed him from behind. He fought the hands, unwilling to stay put as his mate died, but there were too many of them. He collapsed on the floor, his heart breaking.

  He bellowed in agony and the sound shook the room.

  “She needs to be fulfilled if she’s to live again.”

  He heard Alexander’s impassive voice from far away and focused on it. “Do it.”

  “Does she consent?”

  “Yes. No.” He thought a moment. “I don’t know. I only told her about the possibility mere moments ago. She wasn’t happy about the idea.” But he would be devastated without her. “Just do it. I’ll take her wrath.”

  “And will you also take the guarding of her?” New vampires needed constant supervision for the first couple of months, some even for years. Usually it was the vampire’s family, but he was the only family she had who would be capable of it.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Very well.” With Alexander’s assent, the fight left Jeremy. The hands let go of him. He recognised his brother, and Sebastian and Marcus Hamilton, Alexander’s youngest son and great-great-grandson respectively. It had taken three warriors to hold him down.

  Jasper offered his hand and helped Jeremy up. His legs held, but only just, his energy all but spent in keeping Cora alive. “Thanks. There’s a body in the boot of the car.” Jas didn’t ask questions, but just headed out to take care of the matter.

  “Clear the room.” Alexander’s order was absolute, but Jeremy wasn’t about to obey.

  “I’ll stay.”

  “Yes. You seem to have already begun the process yourself anyway, by feeding off her. You will be needed.”

  Jeremy hadn’t known feeding could trigger the promise, but there was no time for questions. He took a place next to Alexander, and then magic filled the room.

  She woke up with an urge to kill. She didn’t question it, she just shot up and out of the bed and went for a prowl. Scents of prey filled her nose and she flared her nostrils. Her mouth watered.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She swerved
towards the voice. Male, healthy – amused. She would kill him.

  She growled and attacked. But he wasn’t there anymore.

  “You’ll have to be faster than that to get me.”

  The mocking angered her and she growled again. He laughed. “Good girl. Now, get back to bed and I’ll give you some food.”

  Her stomach rumbled, but she wouldn’t obey. She sat where she was, on a wooden floor covered with an oriental rug. It felt scratchy against her bare bottom.

  “You want to do this the hard way? Fine.” He came to her, picked her up and tossed her on the bed. She screamed and hissed, but he only laughed. “Feisty little thing you turned out to be.”

  She was about to get up again, but a tray on the nightstand caught her attention. Delicious scents wafted from it. She lunged at it, but he was there again, standing between her and the food. “Not yet, not until you’re properly under the covers again.”

  She screamed in frustration and anger, but he wouldn’t give in. Play along. We’ll kill him when he’s not watching.

  She had never before heard the voice that spoke in her head, but she saw no reason not to agree with it. So she climbed under the duvet, leaned against the headboard, and assumed a docile look. He smiled, amused.

  “Good enough. Here.” He lifted the tray onto her lap.

  She tore into the food. She was ravenous. He watched her eat, not saying a word. She glanced at him from time to time, worried that he would try to take a share of her food, but he let her eat in peace.

  He’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security.

  She agreed with the voice again. Best to eat fast so he couldn’t intervene.

  When she was done, her stomach ached. She was exhausted. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She logged off.

  * * *

  The room was dark when Corynn woke up again, and she wasn’t alone in the bed. Her first instinct was to bounce onto the man lying next to her and tear his throat open. Then she recognised his scent. She hadn’t been fast enough the previous time.

  We need to creep up on him.

  Her mind was lucid enough and the voice startled her. Who are you?

  I’m you, and not you.

  That didn’t make any sense. Was she having a schizophrenic episode?

  You’re not crazy.

  Says the voice in my head.

  The man stirred, cutting the conversation – or monologue. She wasn’t ready to rule on that yet. If she wanted to kill him, she would have to act fast, before he was fully awake. But not so fast he would stir.

  Slowly, she glided to him under the duvet. His body felt hot against hers – naked, like hers – yet the energy surrounding him was cool. It fascinated her, distracted her, but only briefly. Her attention was claimed by an alluring scent. Following her nose, she rose above him and silently glided over him to straddle him. She had his body pinned down with hers now.

  A magnificent body, strong, muscled and masculine. She wanted to bite it, to taste it, but more than that, she wanted to devour it. She pressed her mouth to his throat and the beckoning pulse there. Her fangs shot down and she bit through.

  Blood, warm and rich, gushed into her mouth, faster than she could swallow. He stiffened, but he didn’t move, so she ignored him and just drank. The potion went straight to her head, the effect intoxicating.

  “That’s enough, sweetie.”

  She ignored him. How could it be enough when it tasted so wonderful and made her feel so splendid?

  Power washed over her, demanding she obey. “That’s enough.”

  She stopped feeding. She licked the blood that had spilled from the punctures, carefully collecting every last drop. The man shivered and his breathing caught.

  You need to seal the wound.

  How?

  I’ll show you.

  An image came to her mind and the voice in her head guided her through it. Sealing the wound wore off her high, as she had to use the newly gained energy for it. We’ll get more later, the voice promised.

  Satisfied, she stretched languidly right where she lay on top of him. Her naked body met his erection, hot and demanding attention. Instantly, another instinct took over. She glided down and took him inside her.

  Strong hands grabbed her waist, preventing her when she was about to move. “No. You’re not strong enough yet. Stop.” The words were firm, but the voice was strained.

  “Make me.” She smiled, slowly. Her fangs had retreated, but a drop of his blood clung to her lips and she licked it off. He inhaled sharply and his hold of her hips tightened. He lifted her up, and pressed her right down the length of him. Amazing pleasure shot through her and she moaned. It was too much for him. Holding her down, he began to pump up with his hips. She only needed to enjoy the ride, he did all the work.

  She came with a scream and collapsed on him. A few heartbeats later, she was dead to the world again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How are you feeling?”

  It was the evening of the twelfth day after Cora’s promise was fulfilled, and Jeremy had been anxiously waiting for her to get over the transformation. She had been in deep sleep for days. All new vampires required slumber to regain their energy, on top of which she had been healing the gunshot wound, which had taken its toll too.

  He studied her, trying to assess her critically. She had lost some weight, which wasn’t good for someone with her lean structure. But she wasn’t as terribly pale anymore as she had been, and her eyes were clear.

  She looked around, baffled. “Where am I?”

  It was the first lucid question she had made since waking up for the first time a couple of nights ago. She had been almost feral then, her Rider in charge of her actions. The feeding the next night seemed to have done her good though.

  He felt himself grow hard at the memory of her mouth at his throat, sucking, and her nostrils flared. She could smell his arousal now. He cleared his throat and forced his body into submission. He hadn’t been strong enough to resist her when she fed, but she was weak still and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

  “You’re at the Crimson Manor. This is my bedroom.”

  “Why am I here?” She made to get up and he hastened in to help her sit up. He put pillows behind her back so she would be more comfortable as she leaned against the headboard of his four-poster bed. Sharing the bed with her for almost two weeks had been both torture and privilege for him, but it was necessary. She needed constant supervision, as new vampires were unpredictable and often violent. She had tried to kill him the moment she got out of the bed for the first time.

  The memory made him smile.

  But looking after a bloodthirsty vampire and a woman who aroused him with her mere presence was easy compared to what he had to do next. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  She frowned, confused, and then shook her head. “I have no idea. Everything’s so vague.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. “You were shot.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry I put it so bluntly, but that’s what happened.” He sensed her fear and put a calming hand on her arm that was resting on the duvet.

  “By a renegade?”

  “No, a human criminal.”

  She stared at her for a few heartbeats. “Well, isn’t that ironic.” He smiled and didn’t point out that he had warned her about it. Accusations would do no good, and gods knew he had been blaming himself for it ever since. “But I feel fine. Was it just a flesh wound?” He controlled his face carefully, but not fast enough. “What? Tell me!”

  “Maybe later, when you’re stronger.”

  “I feel fine. Tell me now.”

  He took her hand and studied it, playing with her long, slender fingers. She let him, but then she squeezed him, prompting him to speak. He faced her squarely, the pain showing in his eyes.

  “You died.”

  Colour bled from her face. “I … how … but I feel fine,” she said feebly. Without
a conscious thought, he fed Might energy into her through their joined hands, the hunger requiring that he make her feel better. She began to relax. He kept a worried eye on her in case her Rider took advantage of her emotional stress and came out again, but it seemed content to lay low for now.

  “We went for an early morning jog to Regent’s Park. When we returned, there was a guy trying to break into our car. You rushed in to stop him and he shot you. In the stomach.”

  She frowned. Then she felt her stomach with her fingers through the duvet. She couldn’t feel anything, so she lifted it to take a look. She was naked and he tried not to stare. He had watched over her body the entire time she was here, cleaned and nourished it. It held no secrets. But she wasn’t a patient anymore and he fixed his eyes on where the wound had been to avoid temptation.

  Only a faint scar reminded of that fateful morning. Had she been a stronger vampire, there wouldn’t have been even that left, not after the kind of healing Foley was capable of. She found the scar and ran her fingers over it.

  “How is this possible? It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

  “It’s a kind of magic.” But the joke didn’t amuse her this time round.

  “How?”

  Here was the part he had dreaded. He tried to control his emotions so she wouldn’t smell his anxiety, but the mere notion of losing her filled him with such agony he wasn’t able to. Her hand sought his and squeezed it, and calm spread through him. If he had doubted that they belonged together, that alone made it clear. It took a special kind of connection between two vampires to be able to calm the other with a mere touch.

  “It’s okay,” she said gently. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  He longed to take her offer, but it was best to get it over with. She needed to know. She had to learn about the Rider. “We had to make you a vampire.”