Souls Night [The Pact Series]

by Kallysten

  "I did not make a Pact with this child. We had a bargain, her blood against my teaching. Now that she is a Fighter the bargain is over."

  Trying desperately to find the words that would stop him, Mierna watched him as he went to untie his horse at the back of the barn. When he started for the door, leading the animal by the bridle, the Eldest signaled for the Fighters to open a path for Elden. Only when he stepped beyond the doors did she run after him, shaking off Carrel's hand when he tried to stop her.

  "Wait!” she called out.

  Elden already had one foot on the stirrup. He looked at her, but hoisted himself onto the horse anyway.

  "So that's it?” she asked, pushing the words past her tight throat. “The ‘bargain’ is over and you leave without a goodbye?"

  She was dimly aware that her words might be conveying too much. She had come to accept her feelings for Elden, but she was in no way ready to let him know about them. Still, she couldn't manage to stop herself, or to look at him with anything other than pleading.

  "I gave you what you wanted,” Elden said, looking down at his gloves as he tugged on them listlessly. “You're a fighter. And you actually have a chance to survive if you meet a demon."

  "A chance?” she repeated, surprised and disbelieving. “I want more than a chance!"

  The horse stomped its foot. Without thinking, Mierna grabbed the bridle. She wouldn't let Elden leave without receiving an answer first. She kept her eyes on his face, and after a few seconds, he returned her look. The strength of his stare startled her. In his eyes, she saw the same hunger that she had gotten used to seeing when he took her blood. But she could also guess a yearning stronger than she could comprehend, and it scared her despite herself.

  "Two hundred years ago,” he said, his quiet voice shaking from being so intense, “I would have been proud to call you my Childe. You're too stubborn for your own good, and determined, and in time you'll be a great fighter. But you weren't born two hundred years ago, and I have taught you all that I can. All I can hope is that the Gods will protect you."

  His hand closed on hers on the bridle, and pried it off. Holding it tight, he pulled it up even as he bent down to press his lips to her knuckles. She could feel the touch long after he had gone. The slow realization that he had meant the gesture as a goodbye drew cold and ice to her better than the wind roaring around her.

  Chapter 5

  Mierna had to knock for almost two minutes before the door finally opened in front of her. She swallowed back the annoyed comment that had risen to her lips and stared, shocked, at Elden's face.

  "What happened?” she asked, unable to stop herself from reaching out. Her fingers ghosted over the black and purple bruises that marred his face. She didn't dare touch his skin, but even so he reared back and out of her reach.

  "Demons,” was all he said.

  "Demons?” An edge of hysteria was creeping up in Mierna's voice and she tried to control herself before she continued. “You've always told me I ought to run rather than let demons—"

  "Get close enough to lay a hand on you,” he finished for her. “It doesn't mean it always works that way.” He stopped and took a few seconds to look at her before asking, his voice gentler: “Why have you come?"

  She would have expected him to invite her in by now; it was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was bright, but the air was cold enough that her breath fogged in front of her. Still, he remained where he was, leaning against the door and blocking the way. The laces of his tunic were undone, and she could see that the bruises on his skin extended to his chest. She fisted her hand so she wouldn't be tempted to reach for him again.

  "I came because the Fighters need you."

  His lips formed the words ‘the Fighters', but he didn't interrupt her.

  "After I beat Gorden,” she explained, “he wanted to learn to fight like I do. And so did a few of the others. I tried teaching them, but I'm not very good at it.” She gave him a tight grin. “I don't have your patience."

  Rather than returning her grin as she had hoped, he shook his head.

  "I'm not welcome in your village. Your Eldest—"

  "He agreed,” she said quickly. “We petitioned him, and he agreed. It has been done in the past, a vampire came to Riverside and stayed for a few months to teach the men to fight. Anyway, you can come to the barn as you used to. We can start the bargain again."

  She had tried to say that last part on the same tone as the rest, but her voice wavered slightly. Elden's eyebrows twitched.

  "Why do I have a feeling the Eldest didn't agree to that?"

  Heat spread through Mierna's cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the stone floors at Elden's feet. She felt embarrassed, both at having been caught in her not quite lie and at the words that were burning her lips. It had been four weeks since she had become a Fighter—four weeks since she had seen Elden. Not a day had passed that she hadn't thought of him. Every time she had picked up her sword, it had been like taking his hand for a second; only a second. She forced herself to look up again. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself, but she needed to know if she was the only one whose life had changed on Souls Night.

  "I've missed you,” she said, the words starting as a whisper but picking up intensity as she pushed on. “I've missed talking to you, and training with you, and even ... even the bite."

  Her blush only redoubled at that admission, but she refused to look away again. Keeping her eyes on Elden's, she waited for a reaction. He seemed shocked at first. When the tiniest smile pulled at the corners of his lips, she allowed herself to breathe again.

  "I've missed you too."

  "So you'll come? You'll teach us?"

  He sighed. “I will."

  "And you'll take my blood?"

  His small smile became apologetic. “I don't think your friends would like that."

  Mierna shook her head. He hadn't refused. That had to mean he wanted it—wanted her. “Then take it now,” she insisted. “You look like you were hurt. Wouldn't it help?"

  He seemed torn, the hunger lighting his eyes with a slow fire even as he clung to the only half-open door. “It would, but..."

  Without waiting for him to find an excuse, Mierna gently pushed in past him and closed the door. He stared at her but he didn't stop her. She strode over to the common room and approached the fireplace. Ashes almost completely covered dark red embers, but it had to be enough to restart the fire. She knelt by the hearth, uncovered the embers with metal prongs, blew on them until they were a bright red, then threw in some straw. Her hand was shaking a little as she did, both from nervousness and excitement. She stood again to pick up wood on the side of the fireplace, and almost bumped into Elden. She hadn't heard him approach. Flustered, she moved aside to let him throw in kindling. When he turned back to her, the fire was starting to crackle, long flames rising in the air.

  They sat together on the low bench, as they had done what seemed like an eternity ago, except that this time Elden was straddling the bench. It all seemed so familiar ... the way they had lit the fire together, sat next to each other, even his hand gently taking hers ... More than familiar, it felt intimate. His eyes were heavy as they scrutinized Mierna and she couldn't help shifting restlessly.

  "Are you sure you want this?” he murmured.

  "I do."

  "Then what preoccupies you so much?"

  "Nothing, I...” She met his eyes, and words surged out of a corner of her mind she rarely acknowledged. “Do you ever think about renewing the Pact? About having another Childe?"

  The question had haunted her ever since their talk the night she had become a Fighter. She had never thought about it before, but his words had raised an idea that she just couldn't push away.

  For a brief moment, his fingers tightened over hers and she winced. His voice when he answered was cold as ice, and full of pain.

  "I won't kill anyone else."

  "What if they wanted it?” she pushed, unable to voice her tr
ue question—"What if I wanted it?"

  He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the fingers he had just bruised. “Shush, child."

  A flash of exasperation covered everything else, from her nervousness about the coming bite to the thread of hope that she might not have to say goodbye anymore, one day.

  "I'm not a child. You know that."

  Rather than answering, he trailed his lips from her fingers to her wrist and bit down. She couldn't stop a small cry from passing her lips. Usually, he was much gentler than this. Had she upset him so much he had lost control, or was he too hungry to take things slow? He sucked onto her blood harder than ever, and despite the initial pain, Mierna soon had to bite the inside of her cheek so as not to let out a moan. It would have been too clear that she wasn't moaning in pain. She squeezed her thighs together and closed her eyes, wishing all at once that the sensation would never stop and that it would change so that she could find relief.

  When he finally let go, Mierna was breathing heavily. She felt hot, and it had nothing to do with the fire behind her. She opened her eyes and blinked several times, unable to see anything in front of her. A touch on her cheek guided her face toward Elden. Her vision cleared and she looked at him with both surprise and desire. Why did you stop, she wanted to ask, but the tender hand still cradling her face and the fire in Elden's eyes robbed her of her ability to speak.

  "I do know you're not a child. It would be easier to send you away if you were."

  Very slowly, Elden leaned forward. Mierna's heart started thundering in her chest. She had a feeling he was giving her a chance to move away and stop what was happening, but stopping him was the very last thing she wanted. She wished she could have told him she had dreamed of this moment for months, but all she could do was look at him, at these brilliant blue eyes she knew so well, at their color made deeper, it seemed, by the dark bruises on Elden's handsome face. In her mind, his eyes were the color of strength; of love. He looked back at her so intently that she couldn't help wondering what he saw in her eyes.

  His lips touched hers like the caress of the wind—they were as soft, as cool, as changing against her. She let her eyes flutter close and pressed in, barely, to let him know she wanted this gentle touch he was offering her. His lips parted against hers, just enough for his tongue to peek through and sensuously slide along her bottom lip. The sensation, so delicate, so unexpected—so exciting—made her gasp lightly. Elden took this opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth for such a brief moment she thought she had imagined it. But when she didn't close her lips, he did it again, this time more slowly. Tentatively, her tongue met his, slipping against it gently. The taste of her own blood was there, but she barely noticed it, lost as she was in the feel of him. A wave of scalding heat rushed through her body.

  Without realizing what she was doing, she moved closer to him, wanting to feel more of his body than his mouth and the fingers stroking her cheek. She rested her hands on his chest—and Elden started back, wrenching their mouths apart. Mierna opened her eyes and looked at him in confusion; too late, she remembered the bruises she had glimpsed on his chest.

  "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

  He laid a finger over her lips to shush her. “I'm fine. But you should go home, now.” His voice was shaking. “I'll see you and your friends tomorrow night."

  She didn't want to go, not so soon, but she realized what would probably happen if she stayed. A kiss—this kiss—was the most she had ever shared with a man, but she was not an innocent. She knew what happened between men and women when they married. It had been a long time since her little girl's dreams of marriage, but at that moment, even if she knew it could never happen, she wished for nothing more than to call Elden her husband and follow him to bed.

  Elden stood and offered her his hand to help her up. Her knees were shaking, and she held on to him until they had reached the door. Letting go was one of the most difficult things she had ever done.

  "Tomorrow night,” she said, both to assure herself that she would see him soon and to remind him.

  "Tomorrow night,” he repeated, and it was easier to leave.

  Chapter 6

  Mierna's steps as she followed the trail were confident. The noises around her, wind in the branches or hooting owls did not slow her down as they had a year earlier. She had gotten used to them, in the past months, and to all the strange sounds of the night while patrolling as a Fighter. It all felt a little different, though. It might have been because of the goal of her visit on this night, so different from her other visits. Or it might have been because of the frock she wore, and the sword she didn't.

  She missed the familiar rhythm of it hanging from her belt and bouncing against her leg every other step, but when, now and then, she absently reached for the hilt that wasn't there, it was more by habit than from nervousness. She knew there were no demons in the woods, Elden saw to that. And even if there had been, even if a demon had been hiding on her path, waiting for the perfect moment to attack, she was confident in her ability to defend herself and kill it. A lot had happened since the last Souls Night, and it had been a long time since anyone, even Elden, had called her a child.

  She wasn't the only one who had become a good Fighter. Almost all of them had benefited from Elden's lessons, and they hadn't lost anyone to the demons for five months—the longest amount of time without casualties since the Great Death, the Eldest said. It had started with bi-weekly lessons on how to fight with a sword, and only three other students other than Mierna. In time, more Fighters had come to observe, then join in. The Eldest himself had sat in on lessons, and while he had long since given up on carrying a weapon, he had spent long hours discussing strategy with Elden. Little by little, the way the Fighters were organized had changed; the way they responded to attacks and fought, improved. They all knew whom they had to thank for it.

  Several times, the idea of renewing the Pact had been raised; blood had been offered. Elden had always refused both. Mierna was the only one whose blood he took, and while the Fighters knew, they never mentioned it.

  Warmth spread through Mierna at the thought of Elden biting her. She did not feel any pain from it anymore; rather, offering him her blood always left her aroused and wishing for more. Each time, she hoped for another kiss, like the one they had shared what felt like a lifetime ago. She could still remember the feel of his lips, the gentleness of his touch, but as much as she wished he would kiss her again, he never had. A couple of times, she had thought he would. She had also tried to make herself take the initiative, without result; so far, she had just been too scared he would reject her. Tonight, though, she was ready to try her chance.

  When she finally reached the clearing in the woods where Elden's lair stood, he was there, as he had been a year earlier, as she had thought he would be; standing in front of his Childer's graves. The seven small candles were lit already, each placed in front of a tombstone and casting light onto the all but faded names.

  He didn't move as she approached, but his voice rose, quiet and calm.

  "I told you, Mierna. I don't touch weapons on this night."

  "I know.” She came to stand by his side, and raised her right hand to show him the flowers she had brought. “Can I?"

  A few seconds passed without Elden reacting in any way. Then, very slowly, he turned to face her. It was too dark for her to see his eyes, and she had no idea what he might feel or think at that moment.

  "Why?” he asked at last. “You didn't know them."

  "I know they fought demons."

  After a moment of silence, he gave a short nod. Mierna could feel his eyes on her as she placed a flower beside each candle.

  "And I know,” she added when she was done and turned to him again, “that you loved them."

  She had thought for a long time about what she would say, this night. How she would convince him. It didn't make the words any easier to say, especially when Elden sounded so pained when he answered.

  "Not
the way you mean it, but I did."

  She held her breath for a second before asking: “I thought vampires couldn't love."

  Elden cocked his head to one side. In the new angle, she could see the frown now pulling his eyebrows tighter together.

  "And yet, you just said yourself that I loved them."

  This, Mierna had not anticipated, although in retrospect she saw she should have. Caught in what she had hoped the discussion would sound like, she had overlooked this obvious flaw in her plan, and who knew what else. Her confidence wavered as she wondered if she was making a terrible mistake. If Elden did not respond the way she hoped, what would be left of their friendship?

  Needing a moment to gather her thoughts, she took a few steps away from the graves. A cold wind had risen while they talked, and she rubbed her arms. She wished she had taken her cloak. Elden must have noticed; without a word, he led the way inside and to the common room where a fire was lit. Still silent, he sat at the table and started setting the board of Stones and Water. He had taught Mierna to play, over the months, and oftentimes, caught in the game, he had started speaking, sharing more of himself, of his Childer, than he ever did otherwise.

  Mierna sat by his side and moved her first stone. They played a few turns in silence before Elden spoke again.

  "So, why bring up the idea that I loved them if you didn't think vampires could love?"

  Her hand had just risen to pick up a game piece, but she lowered it again without moving anything.

  "I guess ... I hoped you would tell me the old saying that vamps love nothing save for blood and battle isn't true."

  Elden looked up from the board to meet her eyes at that, but he didn't comment. Mierna tried to get back to the game, but she could see already that she had made several mistakes, too distracted to play her best. If she was going to lose, she might as well get back to what she had come for.

  "Gorden asked me to marry him,” she said as casually as she could manage, her eyes strained on Elden so she would pick up any reaction.