Souls Night [The Pact Series]

by Kallysten

  For the first time that day, a slight smile appeared on his lips. Although faint, it brightened his entire face.

  "You made the right choice. Come, let's start the real training."

  Speechless and confused, she followed him into the weapons room, understanding slowly dawning on her.

  "You ... you were testing me?"

  He gave her an appraising look. “Yes.” He looked as though he would say more, but instead he fell silent and observed her.

  For a moment, she wanted to laugh. Or maybe shout at him, and demand an apology for the way he had treated her during that long, seemingly unending hour. She couldn't think of anything to say however, nothing more than a quiet, “Oh” that he seemed to interpret as the end of that discussion for he nodded once and pointed at the sword in her hand.

  "Hold your sword in your right hand ... a little higher on the hilt. There. Feet apart. Not so wide. Better. Now raise your sword straight in front of you. Feel its weight but don't let it pull your arm down."

  If Mierna had compared this lesson to what had happened earlier, she would have had trouble believing the same man had directed both. Elden was at her side, now, helping her position her body with words and light touches of his hand on her elbow or back, touches that left goose bumps in their wake. He was telling her what he wanted her to do and demonstrating as well. The forms he was teaching her were far less complicated than what he had demanded of her earlier, and she could recognize that these simpler movements were the basis for more advanced ones. More than that, though, he was giving her time to master each movement, talking her through it as many times as she needed before moving on to the next one, always remaining calm even when she blundered repeatedly.

  "Better, but your arm is still bent. Try again, like this."

  He stepped behind her, closed his hand over hers and guided her through the slash and parry that had been eluding her for almost ten minutes now. Immediately, Mierna's heart accelerated. This was what she had daydreamed about. To think she had been about to leave...

  "Your turn."

  Already, he had moved away, and all that remained was the fading feel of his hand holding hers. It was rough from calluses, but gentle. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like, caressing her face.

  "Mierna?"

  She tried to copy the form on her own, but she had been too distracted by his closeness to pay much mind to the way her hand was supposed to move. She gave him an apologetic smile.

  "Are you tired?” he asked, frowning slightly.

  "No, I'm fine!"

  He tilted his head to one side as though listening, but Mierna couldn't hear anything.

  "Your heart is racing,” he said after a moment. “Let's stop here for today. It won't help to do too much at once."

  She wanted to protest, but a light squeeze of his hand on her shoulder and a few warm words stopped her.

  "You've done well."

  Too soon, the hand retreated. Heat suffused Mierna's cheeks. She wasn't sure whether it came from his touch or praises.

  "When can I come back?” she blurted out before she could think of a more elegant way to ask.

  Elden smiled, and the heat descended from Mierna's face to her entire body.

  "You tell me."

  She did not hesitate, even if her body was beginning to ache fiercely. “Tomorrow?"

  "Tomorrow it is. Same time as today."

  She nodded, and tried to find something else to say, unwilling to leave quite so fast. Her eyes slid down his bare chest once more—she had tried to stay focused as he taught her but sometimes her eyes had strayed—and for the first time she noticed the pink, puckered mark on his abdomen. She recognized it at once with a painful tightening of her stomach.

  "Are you ... are you healed?” she asked, regretting now that she hadn't thought of enquiring earlier about the wound she had caused.

  He looked surprised for a second, then seemed to understand what she was talking about.

  "I'm fine. I heal fast. I was back to the hunt the night after I was hurt."

  Unsure about what he meant, Mierna frowned. “The hunt?"

  She knew vampires fed on blood, but she had never stopped to wonder what blood. She didn't know anyone who had ever been bitten. Animals, then, though she had trouble imagining the tall, broad-shouldered man in front of her running after rabbits.

  "I told you before. Your Fighters aren't the only ones killing demons."

  She blinked, a little ashamed that she hadn't understood right away. Then again, everybody knew, or thought they knew, that vampires hadn't protected Riverside since the Great Death. She wondered if anyone else knew about Elden. The Fighters patrolled around the village and its surroundings, but she had never heard that they had reported encountering a vampire.

  To hear that he was fighting demons also reminded her of the offer she had made when first asking for Elden's help. She had to take a deep breath before she could repeat the offer, and she was proud when her voice did not shake.

  "Do you want to take my blood now?"

  For no longer than a second, something passed over his features, in his eyes, something that almost frightened Mierna. She had never seen a hunger so deep, so raw. Nonetheless, rather than accepting her offer, Elden shook his head, very slowly, as though forcing himself to do the gesture.

  "It's not necessary."

  The same hunger filtered though his voice, repressed but not erased. Mierna wondered when he had last taken blood from a human. Before the Great Death, Riverside and other villages had forged a Pact with Elden and his clan. For more than two centuries, the humans had offered their blood to the vampires in exchange for protection against demons. The Great Death had taken the lives of hundreds of vampires and Pacts all over the country and beyond had ended.

  "You've spent time teaching me,” she insisted. “It's only fair that you receive something in exchange."

  She thought he would refuse again, but he look of hunger flared anew in his eyes.

  "All right,” he said hoarsely. “Come, sit with me."

  He led her to the low bench by the fire and after sitting next to her he took her hand. Mierna shivered, her skin erupting in goose bumps at the lightness of his touch.

  "I haven't done this in a while.” He ran his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “I'll try not to hurt you too much."

  If the words had been meant to reassure Mierna, they missed the mark by a long shot. She had guessed being bitten would hurt, but to have her fears confirmed made her tense, so that her entire body was locked and rigid when Elden pulled her hand toward his mouth. His lips touched her skin, soft and firm. Mierna closed her eyes tight.

  "You don't have to do this,” Elden said after a few seconds, lowering her hand but without letting go.

  Mierna opened her eyes and looked at him. The hunger was still there, now accompanied by concern. Had he guessed how scared she was?

  "How do you ... feed usually?” she asked to distract herself.

  "Animals. Demons, sometimes. They taste as bad as they look, though."

  The tone of his voice hinted at a joke, but Mierna couldn't make herself find humor in his words.

  "And people ... I mean humans ... taste better?"

  A slight smile curved his lips. “They do. And they're much prettier too."

  She gave him a hesitant smile, unsure whether he had just paid her a compliment.

  Talking with Elden, along with the slow motion of his thumb massaging her wrist had calmed her nerves. She took a slow breath and nodded slightly.

  "I'm ready."

  His eyes remained on hers a little longer then broke away. Once again, he pulled her wrist to his mouth. Mierna tried to remain calm, and this time she kept her eyes open so that she saw his mouth open and the quick gleam of a fang before he bit down. She let out a surprised gasp at the pain, but it didn't hurt as much as she expected. In fact, the feel of his lips and mouth when he started pulling on her blood was ... strange, and not comple
tely unpleasant. It awakened quiet sparks inside her, like embers ready to bring a fire back to life. Before she knew it, however, it was over. Elden's lips lingered a moment longer on her wrist and then, very gently, he lowered her hand to rest on her knee. Mierna wasn't sure whether she was imagining it but he seemed less pale, suddenly.

  "Thank you,” he murmured.

  She nodded, unable to say a word, and watched the slow smile that came to his lips, full of the same warmth she could see in his eyes. This smile stayed at the forefront of Mierna's mind long after she had left Elden's lair.

  Chapter 3

  For three weeks, Mierna followed the same routine. She rose before dawn, rushed around the farm to finish her part of the chores before the middle of the afternoon then changed into the borrowed clothes that had become her fighting outfit and hurried on the trail through the woods to Elden's lair. He took her blood twice more during these three weeks, and each time was less painful—more thrilling.

  As the season advanced, she had to trudge through the rain and mud more than once, her cloak a weak protection against the elements. She never faltered however, the idea of the fire roaring in Elden's fireplace pushing her forward even when the first snow of the season caught her off guard one afternoon.

  When she knocked on the door that day, her gray cloak seemed white from being covered in snow, and she felt frozen to the bone. She had held the cloak closed with her fist the entire way, but the snow had still seeped in, and her wool tunic, undershirt and pants all clung wetly to her, the wool giving in an unpleasant wet animal smell that made her wrinkle her nose every so often. The only part of her that was still dry was her feet; her high leather boots, at least, had kept the snow and mud out.

  When Elden opened the door, his blue eyes widened in astonishment and he urged Mierna in with both gesture and words.

  "By the Gods, child ... Come in!"

  As soon as she passed the threshold, he closed the door and pulled Mierna's cloak off her shoulders.

  "You shouldn't have come in this weather,” he said as he ushered her toward the fireplace.

  "It wasn't snowing when I left,” Mierna replied, then clamped her mouth shut before he could hear her teeth clattering.

  "Then you should have turned back when it started."

  Wood was piled up in the fireplace, and with a few prods of a metal rod Elden made the flames jump, high and bright. Mierna stepped as close to it as she dared and raised her hands toward the fiery heat. Immediately, the snow clinging to her started melting to form a puddle at her feet. A few moments later, wisps of steam began rising from her sleeves.

  "Take off your clothes,” Elden said as he threw another log in the hearth. “You'll catch your death if you stay in these."

  Mierna lost her breath at the casual tone on which he had suggested that she should undress. Wide-eyed, she stared at him, unable to say a word and ask him if he truly believed she would present herself in anything less than proper attire in front of him. He noticed her look and frowned at her for a moment before sighing.

  "Of course,” he said then. “I had forgotten. You humans are so shy of your bodies."

  A roll of his eyes said exactly what he thought of that, and Mierna felt like arguing with him. Hadn't he been human, long ago? Would he have undressed in front of a young woman, then? The idea brought heat to her cheeks and she turned back to the fire to hide it. She heard Elden walk away, then a door opening behind her. She wondered if he had left to give her some privacy and looked back curiously. She had gotten used in the past weeks to Elden's quiet ways, but that didn't mean she was any better at guessing what his silences meant.

  He returned after only a minute or two, carrying a piece of thick fabric as long as his arm and almost as wide.

  "Here.” He handed the towel to Mierna. “Dry yourself. There are clothes in my room that should fit you."

  Mierna patted her face dry before looking at him, then at the door he had left open at the end of the hallway. All she had ever seen of the lair were what Elden called the common room where she now stood and the weapons room where he taught her. She had guessed that the other doors led to bedchambers—after all, at least eight people had lived in the building at once in the past—but she had never had the occasion to go into any of the other rooms. Curiosity drew her forward before she could wonder whether it was proper for her to enter a man's bedroom even if he wasn't inside.

  With each step taking her away from the fireplace, she could feel the cold settling on her again through her wet clothes. She walked a little faster toward the open door, and closed it behind her once she was in the room. The strong smell of a couple sap candles made her sneeze at once, but she got used to it, as well as to the faint light they cast. The fireplace, smaller than the one in the common room, was empty. A bed, a chair and a chest of clothes completed the furniture of the austere bedroom.

  She noticed the clothes resting on the bed, a long sleeved tunic and trousers, both of the same fine but heavy material, both of what seemed like a deep red in the wavering light of the candles. With a quick look at the closed door, she undid the leather fastenings of her scabbard and rested the sword on the bed. She then pulled off her boots and undressed down to her smallclothes. She used the towel to dry herself quickly and slipped the dry clothes on, shivering the entire time. The clothes fit her too well to have belonged to Elden, she realized. And they also seemed a little dusty, when the rest of the room seemed well kept. Had they belonged to someone else—someone who had been dead for centuries? Why would Elden keep such clothes for so long when he had no use for them? He could hardly have foreseen that a human soaked to the bone would one day knock on his door.

  Having slipped her boots back on, she was about to walk back to the common room and its warmth when she noticed the second chest of clothes almost hidden behind the bed. The chest she had noticed earlier at the foot of the bed was very plain, whereas this one would have been fit for a woman with its lid engraved with roses. She had the impulse to open it, just to see if more dusty clothes lay inside, but a call behind the door startled her before she could get to it.

  "Mierna? You should get back to the fire, child."

  Annoyance surged through her, erasing both her many questions and the uncomfortable feeling of being cold, albeit dry now. She picked up her wet clothes and the sword and opened the door to find Elden just behind it.

  "I am not a child,” she told him for what felt like the hundredth time.

  Even in the near darkness of the hallway, she saw his eyes widen for a second before he turned his head to look away.

  "Regardless,” he said, very low. “You should get warm."

  He led the way back to the common room and she followed without arguing any more. He had pulled two chairs close to the fireplace. Her coat hung from a peg on the side of the hearth. She placed her sword on the seat on one chair, put her clothes to dry on the back of it and sat down on the second. She felt warmer already, both from the clothes she wore and the proximity of the fire. She started undoing her braid so her hair would dry faster.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Elden where he had sat at the table in the center of the room, watching her. He was very still, very quiet, and after a while she became unnerved at his silent observation of her. She turned her face fully toward him, catching a startled look on his features.

  "What is it?” she asked, feeling very tense.

  "Nothing,” he replied defensively.

  "You're staring at me."

  He immediately looked away, as though to deny he had been. “I had never seen you with your hair down.” He let a few seconds pass in silence, then added, barely louder than a whisper: “You reminded me of someone I once knew."

  "Who?” Mierna asked without thinking, but the word was lost in the scrapping noise of wood on stone when Elden pushed his chair back and stood.

  Without a word, almost without a noise, he slid to the weapons room. She heard the characteristic chime of metal on metal
when he picked a weapon from the hooks on the wall, followed almost immediately by the swish of a blade slicing the air. She couldn't see him from the doorless archway, but she could see his shadow dance on the far wall. Unable to stop herself, she tiptoed toward the room, stopping to lean against the wall and peer inside. Elden moved almost too fast for her to follow, his sword slashing through the air, parrying imaginary attacks, never still for more than a second. The look on his face was intense, determined; his every moves reflected strength and focus.

  The thought that he was beautiful struck Mierna, coming out of nowhere and leaving her breathless. She couldn't remember ever thinking such a thing about a man before that instant. But then, she couldn't remember either ever wanting to kiss a man before she had met Elden.

  She pulled her gaze away from him with some difficulty and returned to sit by the fire. The slight shaking of her hands had nothing to do anymore with the cold. She clasped them in front of her, and turned her face to look at Elden's shadow again. She should have joined him; after all, she had walked through the bad weather to come and train with him. She had a feeling, however, that he would guess the treacherous path her thoughts were taking as soon as he laid his eyes on her, and she would die of shame if he did.

  She didn't know how much time passed until Elden came back in the common room. The sword now hung from a scabbard at his belt. He returned to the table, but instead of sitting down he leaned against the back of the chair.

  "Do you feel warmer?” he asked without looking at her.

  "Yes. Thank you."

  He nodded. “The sun has set. I will take you back to Riverside."

  "I will be fine,” she said quickly. “You don't have to—"

  Already he was striding away without listening to her. He picked his cloak and gloves by the door, and, when he was ready, finally looked at her.

  "Let's go."

  His tone left no room for hesitation or arguments. She stood and put on her cloak and sword, then picked up her clothes and looked at Elden questioningly.

  "You can keep the clothes,” he said, turning his gaze away. “At least they will be of use to someone."