by Siobhan Muir
“Dear Goddess,” he moaned as he touched the wet place on Bridget’s throat.
Szilvia had ripped open a chunk of flesh to make her bleed out before anyone could get to her.
“You stupid, jealous bitch,” he growled as hopelessness swamped him.
A canine whine made him turn to look into the amber eyes of Cynthia. She flattened her ears and dipped her head, tipping it to one side in question.
She asked if he could save Bridget, and he almost shook his own head, but some part of him refused to give up. Pushing the encroaching blackness away, he inhaled deeply and grasped Bridget’s shoulders.
“Bridget Erin Diana Shanahan, I call upon you to return to this body. I call upon you as your bound servant and true friend, as the Goddess-blessed attendant to your needs. Take what you need from me. I give it freely in the name of the Holy Goddess.” Then he pressed her right hand against his chest.
Nothing happened.
Panic crawled up his throat from his belly, and tears started in his eyes.
“Oh, please, my lady Bridget. Please, come back to me. I beg of you.”
Subtle light began to filter out from between her fingers against his chest, growing brighter and brighter until a small sun glowed on the grounds of his home. Power, raw and primeval, rose up through him from the ground and flowed in from the connection of her hand on his chest. It swept him along with its heat and electricity, ripping an orgasmic groan from his chest. He couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears. He couldn’t even smell the blood soaking the earth beneath Bridget’s body. All his senses succumbed to the power and energy of the Earth Goddess surging through him.
Time had no meaning, but when the energy ceased, he collapsed on the ground next to the Goddess-born with a tired grunt. His ears rang, and his vision faded in and out as exhaustion swallowed him. He hoped he’d been in time to perform his duty to the one woman who held more than just his soul.
The wolves whined questions at him in their own language, but he didn’t have the strength to reassure them as his addled mind picked up a new voice, calling his name and asking him if he was all right. He opened his eyes to Bridget’s distraught face, and relief burned like a candle in the darkness.
Thank the Goddess she’s safe now. He offered her a watery smile and sank into the blackness that came to claim him.
Chapter Eight
“Fredrick!”
Bridget’s shriek mixed with the whines of the dogs, and she grasped his face, willing him to open his eyes again.
“Don’t you leave me here to figure this all out on my own!” she shouted, trying to ignore his stillness.
One of the dogs whined in her ear and leaned against her shoulder, ears flattened and tail down.
“I don’t know what to do,” Bridget moaned. “Why is he lying on the ground? What happened?”
The black dog whined again and nosed her arm, pawing at Fredrick.
“I don’t understand.”
The dog whuffed a sigh and backed away, wearing an expression of resignation. Bridget frowned as energy shimmered around the black form, morphing and shifting until a tall woman with black hair and amber eyes stood in the dog’s place.
Where do the clothes go when she’s a wolf?
“Is he still alive?” Cynthia asked as she dropped to the ground beside them.
“What? Oh!” Bridget forced herself to look down at Fredrick’s pale face. “I don’t know.”
Cynthia snorted with exasperation. “He’s your mate, isn’t he? Don’t you have a connection where you can sense each other’s health?”
Bridget blinked and shook her head, then remembered their mutual light display in the house. Biting her bottom lip, she laid her right hand on his chest, and the golden light from her palm flared up once again. She closed her eyes and fell into him, sliding through the dark corridors of his body. Life energy flickered within him, and she pushed some of hers back at him, willing him to take it. He responded sluggishly, but some of his “lights” came back on; and she opened her eyes.
“He’s still alive, but his reserves are completely used up.”
“He must have traded his life force for yours to save you,” Cynthia said matter-of-factly. “Come on. Let’s get him back to the house so he can recover.”
“Will he recover?”
Cynthia barked, literally, orders at the other canines around her, and two of them morphed into the men she’d seen in the kitchen the night before, while the rest bolted back toward the house. The men carefully picked up Fredrick’s limp body and carried it to the house. Cynthia gestured for Bridget to follow, and they strode after the men.
“I think he will,” Cynthia said, and Bridget had to remember what she was talking about. “He needs to feed.”
“Feed?”
“He’s a vampire, and he’s offered you his life force. The only way for him to recover completely is to ingest blood.”
Her face must have shown her horror because Cynthia rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. One of my wolves will be happy to donate until he recovers enough to talk to you about it.”
There is no way in hell I’m letting him feed from me!
She said nothing as they returned to the house and settled Fredrick in his bed. She watched one man nod at her respectfully, then look to Cynthia for permission before he left the room. The other waited beside the bed.
“You may not want to watch this,” Cynthia said gently, gesturing for the door.
“Watch what?”
“Watch Fredrick feed from Paul.”
Fear made Bridget’s stomach pitch, but she swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I have to understand who I’m bound to.”
“Are you sure, Bridget?” Cynthia cocked her head, her expression impassive.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, then.”
Cynthia gestured toward Paul, and the young man sat in a chair beside the bed, pulling up his sleeve and pressing his wrist to Fredrick’s lips. Fredrick’s head turned slowly, and his lips pulled back, revealing longer canines than she’d expected. Then he struck lightning fast, and Paul grunted with pain.
“Are you all right, Paul?” Cynthia asked intently.
“Yes, Luna, he’s just a little more enthusiastic than usual.”
Bridget swallowed back bile. “Does it hurt?”
“Not usually,” Paul said. “He must be pretty out of it to forget to smooth out the pain.”
“Smooth out the pain?”
“That’s enough, Paul,” Cynthia barked, and the younger man focused his gaze on the vampire in the bed. “I’m sure Fredrick will explain it to you himself, Bridget.”
“Right.”
“Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and get something to eat?” Cynthia said, gesturing toward the door. “I’m sure you’re exhausted and hungry, and no one thinks clearly on an empty stomach. We’ll be down soon.”
Bridget tried to protest, but the look Cynthia gave her was nothing short of determined; and she didn’t have the energy to fight the Luna. Bridget nodded and retreated, trying to understand the mixed emotions roaring through her. She wanted to be at Fredrick’s side, but the idea of him sucking the plasma out of the young man beside him gave her the willies. She didn’t know if she could eat after that, but hoped the food would entice her away from her unsettling thoughts.
****
Bridget stared out the window at a dreary late afternoon as she waited for Fredrick to wake up. He’d fed well according to Cynthia, and though Paul had been a little pale, he didn’t look much worse for wear when he’d come down to the kitchen the night before. Bridget had asked if he was all right, and he’d waved her off with a smile, but hadn’t said much as he tucked into a large meal.
Bridget couldn’t get the vision of Fredrick feeding off him out of her head and had retreated into silence. She’d been so wired on adrenaline, dawn had come before she slipped into an uneasy slumber filled with dreams of Ms. White Fang
. She’d woken with her hand on her neck and vague memories of light and fire, the smell of rain and a fresh spring breeze – in winter? – blasting through her.
She rubbed her neck now, but nothing marred her skin. Not even a scar.
Goddesses, vampires, and werewolves, oh my. She now had to accept them as real. The Ice Bitch was proof enough, but when the “dogs” just morphed into people, well, that pretty much confirmed that all the things Cynthia and Fredrick had told her were true. The Goddess-born part she still didn’t quite understand, but Fredrick had promised her to teach her if she wanted to know.
She swung her gaze to look at him in the bed. He was still handsome, even with his eyes closed and his body so still.
Does he really love me? And why should I care?
Because he saved your life, and you don’t want to break his heart if you don’t feel the same, you dolt.
At least she hadn’t seen the body of the Ice Bitch when they left the yard. She hadn’t wanted to. She didn’t need that image in her nightmares, but Paul had told her Fredrick had beheaded Ms. Vértolvaj in a move straight out of the Roman Coliseum, scissoring her head off between his two blades.
Grimacing at the thought, Bridget turned back to the window. She just thanked God she didn’t have to see that.
God? According to Fredrick and Cynthia, I’m related to a Goddess. The Goddess. Not that it helped me last night. I couldn’t even outrun a vampire.
She still struggled with the truth that the world held vampires and werewolves in it. Perhaps the movies and books actually did them a favor. The vampires she’d met weren’t exactly like Dracula. Maybe Ms. Vértolvaj had been a little that way. She certainly had thought herself superior to everyone around her except Fredrick. The werewolves could change from one form to another on a whim, not necessarily with the moon. Her period wasn’t due for another four days.
Bridget felt a little slow and stupid. Fredrick had tried to tell her he could prove vampires existed, but he’d have to hurt her. Unfortunately, Szilvia had done it for him.
And it had hurt, badly.
So now she believed. She simply had to. But where did that leave her? Where did she go from here? Could she go back to her ordinary life, ignoring what she knew now that she was no longer in danger? Or was she still in danger despite Szilvia’s decapitation? She pressed her forehead against the glass, closed her eyes, and exhaled a large plume of condensation.
“There is an easier way to get out of this room, you know,” a voice said dryly behind her. She turned around quickly to see Fredrick’s eyes open and a slight smile on his face. “All you have to do is go through the door.”
She snorted at the irony. “So says the man who captured me, held me prisoner, and managed to lock me in all in the space of a few days.”
“You are not being held now.”
“I know.”
“Why are you still here if you know that?”
She sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the window. “Because I don’t know where to go from here.”
“I’m sure Cynthia could give you a map back to Boston.”
“No, not where to go, but where to go from this place I find myself – Goddess-born in the company of vampires and werewolves.” She snorted. “How do you go back to a normal existence after learning creatures of myth exist and you’re one of them? I don’t really understand what I am, and I couldn’t explain it if I even wanted to. I know too much, yet not enough, but it doesn’t matter because no one out there would believe me anyway.”
Dread sank into a heavy ball in her gut. I’m so alone. It wasn’t really his fault – well, it was, but that hardly mattered now.
“So you have more knowledge than the human population around you. What is so wrong with that?” Fredrick asked softly.
“Humans are social. It’s almost impossible to live with a secret you can’t discuss with anyone. Not because it’s bad or illegal, but it’s hard to be alone in company.” She dropped her chin and closed her eyes. “My old life is over.”
He said nothing to that, and defeat swarmed over her, worse even than when he’d slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She knew she acted like a victim, but she’d puzzled over everything all night; and she still didn’t know what to do. She’d hoped he might have a suggestion, but if he didn’t know what to do, she really was lost.
Woo-hoo, he saved me from death, but now that I’m safe, he’s cutting me adrift.
That was all he’d promised: to protect her from danger. Now she was free to go with his blessing.
Gentle hands settled on her upper arms, and she jumped, opening her eyes. Her gaze met the chocolate brown gaze of her erstwhile captor, and compassion filled his expression. The scents of spiced apples and roses covered her, and she recognized it as his personal scent mixed with some sort of emotion.
Does compassion smell like roses?
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Smell like spiced apples and roses. You’re not wearing some sort of cologne, are you?”
“No. I didn’t know I smelled like that. I suppose it’s a step up from blood and earth.”
Despite the nasty description, she laughed. “Well, you certainly have Ms. Verto-whatever beat. She smelled like rotting flesh and wet dirt.”
He made a noncommittal sound and ran his hands over the sides of her face. She closed her eyes again and leaned into his caresses. His lips pressed to her brow, and then he trailed soft kisses down her nose, over her cheeks and one last one on her chin. His scent changed from spiced apples and roses to chocolate, cloves and cardamom as his enthusiasm mounted. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her sides to rest on her hips as he kissed her jaw line, then her throat and side of her neck.
Fear shot through Bridget as she felt his lips settle on her throat, and she stiffened. The memory of the White Bitch’s attack stormed to the surface of her thoughts, and she hunched her shoulders to her ears, squeaking like a mouse in a cat’s clutches.
“I will never hurt you, Bridget,” Fredrick promised as he drew back to look at her. “I only want to protect you, please you, pleasure you, and love you. I will never feed off you. Ever.”
“But I saw you.”
“Saw me?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Saw you feed off Paul last night, and he said it hurt.” She shuddered.
“Ah.” The sound swelled with resignation. “Yes, I was desperate and needed blood.” He tipped her head up so she could look into his dark brown eyes. “But I would never do that to you unless I have your permission beforehand. You’re far too special to use so callously.. I never realized how much I was missing until I found you. There can be no other for me. I have lived a long time, and seen much, but nothing compares to the light you carry, my lady Bridget. Nothing at all in this world.”
She stared at him for a few moments, trying to see if he was making fun of her or handing her a line. She’d heard something similar from her last manipulative boyfriend, and he always said like it was some sort of joke. Just as trick to get his dick wet.
But Fredrick stood in front of her with the color slowly coming back to his cheeks and his eyes blazing as if a fire burned behind them, and Bridget knew he told her the truth. She felt it like a piece of ribbon sliding over her skin or tugging on her littlest finger. Their connection had strengthened since he first placed her hand on his chest. She could almost taste the intent behind his words.
“I believe you,” she said at last and smiled tentatively.
Relief splashed through her from him, and she traced a finger around the edges of his mouth before she knew she’d moved. Desire and arousal flared as his mouth twitched, and she stood up on her tiptoes to lay a hesitant kiss on his lips.
Fredrick moaned with pleasure and relaxed into her kiss, sliding his hands around to her back to press her against his body. She laid her hands on the soft hairs on his chest and tilted her head to allow him clos
er. His scent intensified as their kiss deepened, and she opened her mouth a little to let his tongue in. He relaxed and allowed her to take the lead on how deep she would go.
Bridget kissed him more, sliding her tongue into his mouth and over his teeth, searching for his elongated canines. When she found them she took her time stroking them with the tip of her tongue until she felt them grow larger and sharper. He moaned again, and his hands tightened their hold on her back at her lingual caress. Something hard and warm pressed into her belly, and she backed off a little. Who knew a vampire’s canines were so sensitive?
Careful not to draw blood on his sharp teeth, she moved her tongue down to test the lower, shorter canines. His moan deepened to an aroused growl, and she almost giggled with delight.
Like that, do you?
The cloves portion of his musk overwhelmed his other scents as his breathing quickened. Enjoying her power, she slid her hands downward until they traced his ribs on his sides, and he gasped with surprised pleasure, throwing his head back.
Oh yeah, I’ve got you now.
In a flash of inspiration, she ducked her head and kissed him between his pectoral muscles, inhaling his delicious scents. He sucked his breath in quickly through his nose and dropped his head to look down at her with delighted incredulity. She ignored him and trailed kisses across his broad chest to his left nipple before encircling it with her tongue. His heart thundered beneath her cheek as she closed her lips and sucked on it. A groan ripped from him, shifting into an amazed hiss as she closed her teeth gently around the small, hardened nub.
“Goddess, Bridget, if you continue, I don’t think I can hold back,” he whispered, placing his hands on either side of her face to tilt it upwards. “I don’t want to force you, but I have only so much restraint to keep myself from taking you if you push me much more.”
“You said you loved me.”
“I do love you,” Fredrick said, his voice thick. “But even I don’t have the strength to override my baser instincts when it comes to a woman I want as much as I want you. Your body calls to me.”
