Seta watched as he pulled his thumb back, exposing the blood he’d wiped from her mouth, and wrapped his lips around it, tasting her kill. She was mesmerized by the action, the way his lips wrapped around his thumb, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. She’d noticed immediately that he was a beautiful man, the most beautiful she’d ever seen, and a powerful one, but she hadn’t seen him as anything more than a captor before this moment, a vampire who had made her like himself without her consent. Another man doing as he pleased with no regard to the feelings of others. Now her mind grew clouded as she tried to understand what he was to her. A sire, yes, but more. She found herself gazing at his lips with a longing she didn’t think she would ever feel again after Roberto had crushed her spirit.
“We are not far from our destination and the night is still fairly young,” Christian said, coming up behind, pulling Seta back from the hazy, confusing place her mind had gone. “Let us clean this last one up and I will see the woman safely to shelter. You continue on with Seta.”
Eron nodded and helped Christian lift the man she’d drank to death. “Inform the woman she will be safe with Christian. She will trust you. Christian has a calming way about him, yet he is still a man. I do not think she will be so trusting of him otherwise.”
“Yes.” Seta nodded her head in agreement and allowed the men time to remove the last evidence of what she had done before she knocked on the carriage door and announced herself to the frightened woman inside.
“Whoa.” Eron pulled back the reins, bringing the two horses to a halt and gazed upon the large cliff face that would shelter them far better than the small cabin they had chosen in haste. Many months had been spent building the shelter, carving it out of the cliff in a way that made it nearly invisible to the naked eye. The area was remote so the danger of it being found was minimal. Safety was the priority, yet he found himself worried Seta might not like it. He wanted her to feel at home there. He wanted her to feel at home with him.
“Fool,” he chastised himself, remembering all too well how caring for someone could bring the greatest pain. He’d had love once and all the blessings that came with it, only to have it ripped away in the vilest of ways.
He was Seta’s sire, not her lover. He was her teacher, her guide, and he would protect her as any sire would protect his fledgling. He would give no more, no matter how desirable a woman she was.
It had been so easy at first to get past her beauty. She’d been afraid, weakened by her fear and loss. She’d been no different than the hundreds of other damsels in distress he’d saved over the centuries, even though he’d known all along great power rested within her, waiting to be ignited.
And then it had. She was no damsel in distress standing over the body of the man she’d drank to death that night. She was strong, fierce, and unstoppable, yet he knew she could still be broken. Even the horses knew. He had never seen them take so easily to a vampire and she was not just a vampire. She was also a witch. They should have protested violently the moment she’d stepped out of the cabin, but animals were smart, sensitive. They felt her sorrow. That sadness inside her, the way she felt emotion so deeply, cared so much, was her weakness and it would be his too if he allowed himself to fall.
Knowing he could not put it off any longer, he stepped down from the perch and opened the carriage door.
She was a vision of beauty in the pale yellow dress, her tan skin practically glowing after her first kill, her ample bosom swelling above the low cut of the empire dress. Eron swallowed, afraid he might drool, before extending his hand to help her down from the carriage.
A soft gasp left her as she set foot on the cliff and Eron cursed himself.
“I am sorry, Seta. We were told we would find you near and we needed shelter. We built this dwelling in the cliff face so as to remain hidden. We were given little information and did not know how much protection we would need. When one is told he will be rescuing a witch, he imagines being hunted. I did not know the exact location I would find you until shortly before.”
She closed her eyes and appeared to take a deep breath, one hand covering her stomach. Eron tried not to notice the way her breasts heaved, lest he forget the fragile state she was in.
“It is fine,” she said softly, before turning toward the cliff face. “You say this is shelter?”
“Yes.” He guided her along the cliff face until they reached the narrow opening hidden by a jagged edge. “Go inside and explore while I put up the horses. It is safe.”
He quickly settled the horses in to the stable area also built into the large cliff face, but kept separate from the living area. He spread hay and filled their trough with water from a nearby spring before exiting their enclosure, the opening of which was wider than the residence area to allow them more air, and moving a heavy boulder in front to prevent their escape while still allowing air through the top of the opening. Content they were cared for, could not escape, and no mortal could remove the boulder to steal them if by chance someone did find their location, he walked across the wide ledge to the narrow opening in the cliff face where he had left Seta.
He and Christian had worked tirelessly carving a narrow tunnel out of the hard rock which led to two rooms. He walked down the narrow entrance tunnel, moonlight spilling in through subtle holes carved near the top to ease his way despite his superior night vision, and entered the first room. An oil lamp burned on a small table in the center of the room, and two candles cast shadows from the mantelpiece they were perched upon. Two cots rested in the corner and chairs lined the table. Otherwise, this small room was empty.
Eron crossed the room and entered the second area they had carved out to find Seta standing next to the bed, running her fingers along the duvet covering it.
“I assume this is my room?” she asked, having noticed the feminine touches like the lacy duvet, armoire with a floral design embellished in the wood, and vanity from which a large candle burned.
“Yes. Christian and I will sleep in the entry room. We felt you should have a private place, as private as we could make for you.”
“You made this shelter yourselves? With your own hands?” She continued looking around the room, admiring the work.
“Yes.” Eron’s chest swelled with a small amount of pride, pleased she seemed impressed. “I am sure you have noticed your strength is unmatched by mortals now. Christian and I together were able to create this in a few months’ time, working at night. It may not be fashionable, however it provides safety. Our path here is off trail and one does not expect to find anyone living inside a cliff.”
“The candles lit as I entered,” she said, shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself, “and it is impossible to have carried this furniture through the narrow passageway, even if you brought it in piece by piece.”
“You can feel it?”
“The magic?” She looked him in the eye. “I am not the only witch you have kept company with recently.”
“No, there was another.” Eron sighed. “She was a good woman. She used magic to place the furniture inside, cast a spell to light the candles whenever a vampire enters, and to keep animals and insects out of this area. We may not have doors, however we do have a shield. If anyone unwelcome attempts to enter, we will know.”
“Once alarmed, we will pick them off as they try to sneak in through the narrow tunnel?”
Eron smiled. “You already think like an immortal who will stay that way.”
“You speak of the witch in the past tense.”
“Suspicions grew about her, forcing her to leave Rome. I believe she is in England now.”
Seta’s expression grew dim. “I will eventually have to leave Rome.”
“We will stay as long as we can, but yes.” Eron crossed the room to take her hand. “I wish I could tell you otherwise. Unfortunately, we will always be hunted. Staying in one place too long is daring death itself.”
Seta looked at where their hands joined and pulled hers away, rubbing
her fingers together as if to remove residue. With a nod, she moved around Eron and left the room.
He stood in place for a moment, pondering on the action. She seemed more accepting of her fate but still felt pain. He’d seen the bloodlust in her eyes after she’d killed the thief and had hoped it would give her the strength to move beyond her mourning. Already the bloodlust appeared to be burning out, leaving her to wallow in grief.
On a sigh, he left the room to find her. Not in the entry room, he made his way out to the ledge to find her standing at the edge, looking down to the sea below.
“Seta!” he cried out, overtaken by alarm. Surely she would not attempt to end her new life so quickly.
She looked back at him, a wry smile on her face. “I am no expert, however I am quite sure a vampire can not jump to her death.”
“No. She can jump to several broken bones and an extreme amount of pain.” Eron advised, taking a few steps forward, slow as to not spook her until he was certain of her intention. “She would have a hard time making it to shelter before the sunrise that way.”
“Ah, but if she is also a witch she might find a way.” Seta flexed her wrist, creating green fire in her hand. She watched it dance upon her palm. “I tried to create fire when Rialto was taken from me. I had done it before without meaning to. At the moment I needed it most, I was incapable of bringing it forth. Now, it is as simple as breathing.”
She flexed her wrist again, and the fire went out.
“Perhaps it was not then that you needed it most.” Eron stepped forward cautiously, halting when Seta took another step closer to the edge, the tips of her toes now hanging over the ledge.
“Do you think I could fly?” she asked.
“No, I have not heard of a witch capable of that,” Eron answered, struggling to keep the fear out of his voice, to remain a calming influence. “I think you can learn to live with your pain. I know you are strong.”
“I do not believe I am strong enough to leave Rome.”
“You do not have to leave today. Please step back, Seta.”
“Where did you leave?” she asked him instead, not moving. “Where did you call home?”
“Ireland.”
“And what did you leave there?”
“Everything.” Eron swallowed past the ball formed in his throat. “I left everything I had, everything I was. I left my heart and soul in Ireland, and I survived it.”
“Does it not make you angry?”
“It did,” he answered honestly. “I felt cheated, horribly wronged and abused. I have seen things I would have never seen since then, things that have given me perspective. I have saved more people than I lost. I have realized I was given a chance to be something, someone greater than I was. If not for what had happened to me, you would be dead and your son would never know his mother. I now can look forward to the day he does.”
“Yes. You caught me.”
“Seta, I would have protected you had I known what was to happen. The Dream Teller gave little notice, just a location and an order to go immediately and save the witch I would find in that place. The location given to me was the bottom of that cliff, not the top. I would never stand by and watch a man lay his hands on a woman, you must believe that!”
She turned and to his relief, moved away from the cliff’s edge to stand before him. She placed her hand along his jaw, looking into his eyes, only a breath between them.
“I know.”
She moved around him, dropping her hand. Eron missed her touch immediately, coldness invading where he had just felt great warmth.
“What did you leave in Ireland?”
“I told you.” The ball found its way to his throat again and he swallowed bitterly. “Everything.”
She tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms, waiting.
“Seta …”
“What did you leave?”
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. It had been so long since he spoke of his great loss, not even to Christian, yet something about the woman before him demanded he tell her what she asked. The idea it could be witchcraft flitted through his mind, but no other witch could make him dig up his darkest memories. This witch, this woman, held a greater power over him than any spell. “I lost everything and everyone I loved there. All I left behind were memories.”
“What was taken from you?”
“My wife.” Maeve’s stunning pale face flashed before him, framed by her long curls, black as midnight. With her full lips and bright green eyes, she had been a vision, the most beautiful in their village. He took another breath. “My daughter.”
Seta stepped closer once more, resting her hand along his arm. “What was your daughter’s name?”
“Clodagh.” His voice cracked as the name he had not spoken in over a century left his lips and her sweet, cherubic face filled his mind.
“What happened?”
“Vampires.” He said the word from behind clenched teeth. “They came in the night and ravaged the village, feeding like gluttonous pigs. Once they had their fill of blood in their stomachs, they did not stop. They killed everyone. Except me.”
Seta gasped softly. “Why?”
“I fought back. I tried to protect my family. I failed.” Eron closed his eyes as horrible images of that night passed through his mind, scorching his heart in the process. “They were stronger than I. They beat me down, drank enough of my blood to weaken me until I was useless. The monster who sired me made me watch as he…”
Seta placed a finger over his mouth, stopping him from rehashing the horror of that night, a painful tragedy that nearly two centuries of time could not heal. He drew comfort from her touch until she moved her finger away. “How do you get past the pain and live again?”
“You forgive yourself,” he answered, opening his eyes to look down into hers. He wrapped a lock of her ebony hair, black as Maeve’s, around his finger. “You do good things to cleanse your blackened soul and find good people to protect, to make up for those you could not. You love to keep your heart from rotting, and to stay the person those who loved you knew. It hurts. You suffer. Embrace it, Seta. It keeps us human so we can save others from our pain.”
Her mouth crashed into his. The action was unexpected, yet not. He’d been drawn to her from the start, to the power he felt inside her, power she had not even been aware of. He’d known deep inside that this would happen, that he would give in to taste the fire burning inside her. He just hadn’t expected her to make the first move, and not so soon.
Despite the warning signals coming from his brain, Eron grabbed her waist and pulled her tighter into his body, lifting her small frame to fit better against his larger size. When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders instead of pushing away, he drove his tongue deeper inside her mouth, kissing her with a desire he hadn’t felt since his wedding night over a hundred years ago, a desire he had never felt so strongly if he were being honest with himself.
A throat cleared nearby, startling him out of the passionate moment. He withdrew, lowering Seta to the ground to find Christian watching them reproachfully. Seta seemed to shrink inside herself, her hand flying up to cover her kiss-swollen lips.
“The woman has been delivered to shelter safely. The sun will be up soon. I imagine you are already growing tired,” he said to Seta, never removing his gaze from Eron.
“Yes, I am, thank you,” Seta said, a slight shake to her voice as she gathered her skirt and quickly covered the ground to the cliff entrance, removing herself from the scene as fast as she could.
“Eron.”
“I know.” Eron sighed. He was far too old to be scolded, and far too upset with himself to discuss the matter.
“She may be powerful,” Christian warned, “However she is still very fragile, and you are her sire.”
“I know.”
“She needs you to be her guide through this hard time.”
“I said I know.” Annoyance slipped through to his tone despite his effort to hide
it. “She is my fledgling. I feel what she feels. I did not intend for this to happen.”
“She has grown an attraction to you.”
“Yes.”
“And you to her.”
“I will be careful with her. She is mine to protect.”
Christian studied him a moment longer before turning to enter their shelter.
“Be careful,” he said before disappearing inside.
Eron turned and looked out to the sea, running his hand through his hair. He could feel Seta inside, feel the desire she felt combined with guilt, sorrow, and to his dismay, anger. She may have wanted what happened between them, but she was not happy about it.
Eron turned his gaze up to the sky, watched its colors already start to lighten, and decided to wait as long as he could before going inside. Newly turned, she would fall asleep before the sun rose, saving him from feeling her bitterness as she longed to be close to him again.
SIX
Seta sat alone in the corner of the dark tavern, watching shadow figures dance along the walls as people moved about. It was the third night in a row she’d been staking out the establishment, waiting to see if the man who had attacked three women in the three weeks prior would show.
Christian sat along the opposite wall, talking to the prostitute who’d tried relentlessly to offer her services to him the past two nights. She’d finally given up and now sat next to him, crying as she spilled her problems to him. He looked uncomfortable, but offered her words of advice and from what Seta overheard, was currently telling her it wasn’t too late to turn away from her sins.
Eron was stationed somewhere outside, away from her. He said it was to keep the outside covered in case the man they sought did not go in to the tavern, but she knew why he was outside and Christian, poor Christian who looked extremely uncomfortable and out of place in such an establishment, was inside with her. Eron didn’t want to be near her any more than possible. He’d been keeping distance since that kiss three weeks before. They never spoke of it, the three of them maintained an awkward silence about it. She caught Christian shaking his head at him sometimes and didn’t know if he thought ill of Eron or of her.
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