Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series)

by Heaton, Felicity

  Kyran looked proud in his painting. Kearn had sat for his portrait at the same time, when they had reached twenty in human years, only a year before the events that had led to him becoming a Venator.

  He looked away when he reached the space where the next painting should have hung. It pained him to see it missing and to see the scratches in the plaster. Anger still emanated from them. Hatred. He had hurt his mother so much that he deserved nothing less than her eternal damnation of him.

  Amber’s gaze fell on him. She didn’t say anything but he knew she had seen the empty space and the plaque beneath that bore his name. Kearn Savernake.

  Outcast.

  Murderer.

  His father opened the dark double doors at the end of the gallery and strode into a large black-walled reception room lavishly furnished in red and gold. Memories of playing with his brother in the room assaulted him but he pushed the pain deep into his heart, locking it away.

  Kearn stopped near the door and waited for his father to seat himself. His gaze followed his father’s back as he crossed the room to the two gold coloured antique couches that stood facing each other in front of the elegant black marble fireplace on the wall opposite him. When his father was seated on the couch to the right of the fireplace, furthest from him, Kearn took measured steps forwards, leaving Amber at the door, and came to stand before him. He couldn’t sit on the couch behind him, opposite his father. Not without permission. Even then, he wasn’t sure if he would. He didn’t deserve such an honour.

  He placed his right hand on his chest and bowed his head.

  “Duke Savernake, I thank you most humbly for granting me an audience with you, my honourable master.”

  His father made a dismissive noise but Kearn didn’t raise his head. He kept his gaze fixed on the wooden floor. He wasn’t fit to look at him.

  “Why have you come home?” his father said without any trace of anger or any intonation.

  “I am in pursuit of a man and have been for three years. He is a Noble. I have come close to fulfilling my duty with the help of this human. She is a Source Blood and the man wishes to claim her and harvest her blood.”

  “You wish this not to happen.”

  Kearn swallowed. “I have vowed to protect her from the man I seek.”

  “And that has brought you back here?”

  “The man has proven his determination. He attacked her in my own home.” Kearn sensed the ripple of anger that ran through his father. To attack a vampire in their home was unforgivable. A Noble or Lesser Noble would never do such a thing. Their home was a sacred place, their sanctuary from the human world.

  “Is this the same man who attacked the human at Montagu’s ball?”

  Kearn did look at his father now. He nodded, surprised that his father knew. Had Kyran told him, or was his father aware of the things he did and what happened to him? The Sovereignty remained in contact with Venators even when retired. Would they have told him?

  “I seek your permission to remain on Savernake grounds.” His voice trembled but his father didn’t seem to notice.

  He was assessing Amber in the same way Kearn had done the night they had met. She might look frail but she had proven herself strong more than once.

  “How is your life as a Venator?” His father’s green eyes moved back to him. It was a loaded question and one he hadn’t expected. His father wasn’t only asking how he had been doing these past sixty years but how he felt.

  Lonely.

  Kearn sent that feeling to his father through his blood, unwilling to say the word aloud.

  His father nodded and understanding filled his eyes when he looked back at Amber. Kearn hadn’t meant to allow his father to see his growing attachment to Amber too, but it was impossible to hide things from him. The bond they shared was too deep. Even if he had tried, his father could have broken through any defence and seen the truth without even trying.

  “How is mother?” Kearn’s voice trembled fully now. “Has her pain lessened?”

  Would she ever forgive him?

  His father leaned back in the couch and crossed his long black-clad legs, his expression thoughtful.

  “You are fortunate that she is away now visiting Montagu.”

  Kearn bowed his head again and closed his eyes when his hair fell forwards and masked his face. It had been too much to hope that his mother would have forgiven him and would welcome him in her home. If she had been here, his father wouldn’t have seen him.

  The guard would have escorted him from the grounds as he had been that night sixty years ago.

  The memory of it still brought back every ounce of pain. He hadn’t forgotten one moment of it. Not the look on his mother’s face, or the way she had spoken of him as though he was no longer her son, or how she had dragged him to the entrance and thrown him down onto the gravel drive. Her reproach and anger had chilled him, and he had felt empty for the first few months, doing his duty without feeling or care. Injuries had gone unchecked and he had risked his life, not caring whether he died or not.

  It had only been after a year had passed that things had changed for the better. He had met Kyran by chance and his brother had spoken to him. It had given him hope that one day he could return to his family and he had felt alive again. Things between him and Kyran had been tense at first but, over time, they had begun to grow closer again.

  Would Kyran speak to his mother for him? He knew that Kyran never mentioned their meetings to her. It went against her rules and would upset her if she found out, but if Kyran spoke to her, perhaps Kearn could return, or at least gain an audience with her. He needed to make her see that he didn’t want to be a Venator and he hadn’t wanted to do what he had done. She had to understand.

  “Her pain has not lessened,” his father said and Kearn clenched his fists.

  The spark of hope inside him that he had been nurturing for decades, that he had kept alive and that had grown tonight into a tiny flame, sputtered out and died.

  “Then it is hopeless,” he whispered. A desire to scream welled up inside him, to shout and argue his point with his father, to cry and beg him to speak with his mother for him. He held them all inside and cursed himself instead.

  “Nothing is hopeless.”

  Kearn was surprised to hear Amber speak. He looked through the lengths of his hair at her. His father watched her too. She stood in the doorway, twisting her hands in front of her, staring at her feet. Crimson stained her cheeks, an outward sign of the embarrassment blazing through her blood. She knew she had broken his rule about not speaking, but he couldn’t be angry with her, not when she had said the words he had needed to hear most.

  “The human female is correct.” His father sat up. “Perhaps in time you will do something that will gain you the forgiveness you seek.”

  Perhaps he could wait for Kyran to do something unforgivable again. He cursed. He didn’t want to believe that his mother would never forgive him and welcome him back into the family, but he did.

  “You may stay with the human in the lodge at the gate.” His father stood and stepped up to him.

  Kearn dropped to one knee again and bowed his head. “Thank you, my honourable master.”

  His father gave another short noise of disapproval. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He deserved to have Kearn’s respect, even if he didn’t like it.

  “Archduke Pendragon will visit.”

  Kearn nodded. It was both a warning not to show his face and a warning that his mother would return soon.

  Would she throw him out again when she did?

  He needed to keep Amber here. If his mother wanted him off the estate, he would beg her to let Amber remain at the lodge in exchange for him leaving. Kyran would keep her safe for him.

  His father left the room. Kearn remained kneeling a few seconds longer and then stood and turned to face Amber.

  If he had to, he would leave her here.

  He would hunt the man alone.

  He would protect what was his
.

  CHAPTER 20

  Amber walked in silence through the large house, trailing behind Kearn. They passed back through the gallery and she glanced at the empty place on the black wall. Long gouges marked the plaster. Whoever had removed Kearn’s painting had been very angry with him.

  His mother?

  She had felt his emotions when he had spoken of his mother. The pain had been raw and intense, strong enough that it had felt as though they were her feelings, not something she was merely sensing in him. His despair and his words of failed hope had forced her to speak. Whatever had happened between them, she was sure that it was the reason he wasn’t welcome in his own family’s home.

  She was sure because his father was a Venator too.

  They reached the red lobby and she spotted Kyran at the door.

  Kearn raised his head.

  Kyran smiled.

  His blue eyes were bright in the warm light of the chandelier. It reflected off his black hair, highlighting it with threads of gold. He leaned back against the elegant wooden doorframe and folded his arms across his chest, an imposing figure when dressed head to toe in black. The last time she had seen him, his clothing had been more formal. Tonight he was dressed as Kearn was, in a shirt and trousers.

  A noise on the stairs caught her attention. Three women stood on the left side of the stone staircase, all of them wearing flowing long black dresses and scowls. Amber moved closer to Kearn.

  “There is no need to fear the dogs.” Kyran’s voice echoed around the high ceiling of the expansive room, intentionally loud, as though he was making a point. Who was he making it to, the women or her and Kearn? She brought her gaze back to him. He grinned. “They would not dare bite you. It is Kearn’s blood they want.”

  Everyone seemed to want his blood. Just what had he done to deserve such cold and cruel treatment?

  Kyran stared at her, the smile fading from his face and his eyes losing their brightness.

  “How is your throat?”

  Amber touched the bandage. Had Kyran helped when she had been injured? She looked at Kearn but his back was to her.

  “Healing.” Her cheeks blazed and body burned with the memory of what Kearn had done and how good it had felt.

  “You should take more care of yourself.” Kyran walked past Kearn and touched her left shoulder. His gaze traced her neck, lingering on the bandage around it. “That blood of yours is very valuable.”

  He smiled and then passed her. She looked over her shoulder at him, watching him walk up the grand stone staircase to the three waiting women, and touched her throat again. Kyran pushed one of the women’s arms so she started walking and then nudged the other two forwards to follow her. They lowered their heads and did as he said without protest. Amber frowned at his treatment of them.

  “Come. It is not wise to linger here.” Kearn walked out of the door.

  Amber followed him to his car and got in without another word. She was silent the whole of the short drive, mulling over how Kyran had treated the women. Was he like Duke Montagu too and believed that women were inferior, something to possess and control? She had never noticed it about him before. He had always seemed so nice around her and hadn’t treated the women at the ball in such a disrespectful way. She glanced at Kearn. Did he harbour such tendencies too? He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she faced forwards.

  The moon shone brightly down on the lodge by the gate, casting pale light over the square sandstone building and reflecting off its bay windows and slate roof. It wasn’t a small house as her mind had conjured up on hearing it referred to as a lodge. It looked large enough to have at least four double bedrooms on the upper floor.

  Kearn pulled the car to a halt near the dark painted front door and turned off the engine.

  Amber stared at the lodge, thinking about what had happened back at the house with his father and his family, and then looked over at Kearn.

  “What was that all about?” she whispered, amazed she had found the courage to ask.

  Kearn’s eyes narrowed on the black steering wheel and he sighed.

  “It has been many years since I have been welcome here.” Pain laced his voice, a hurt that she felt deep inside her.

  “What happened?” Amber covered his hand with hers and held the steering wheel with him. Her brow furrowed and she leaned forwards to see his face. He stared at the dashboard, his green eyes distant and cold, belying the increasing hurt within him. “It can’t be because you’re a Venator because your father is one.”

  “No… it is not because of what I am… but because of what I did.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “It is because I killed my mother’s younger sister.”

  Her hand tensed against his and her eyes went wide. “Why—”

  “It was my duty to. She had been purchasing Source Blood. She was an addict.”

  They had made him kill his own family? What sort of terrible people were in charge of the Venators? They had sentenced him by making him do such a thing. They had condemned him to a life alone.

  “My mother tried to convince me to go against the Sovereignty. I did not, and instead carried out my duty, and she has not spoken to me since.” His hoarse low voice conveyed his hurt as clearly as the way his hand trembled beneath hers.

  Amber placed her other arm around his shoulders and pressed her forehead against his temple. She wished she could take away his pain. She didn’t want him to feel it. She didn’t want him to feel lonely.

  “How long has it been?” she whispered against his cheek.

  “I have not set foot in that house since nineteen forty seven.”

  Amber felt terrible for him. Sixty years of never seeing his family. Sixty years of suffering such callous and harsh treatment by his kind.

  “You have your brother at least,” she said, trying to find the bright side so his pain would ease.

  Kearn shirked her embrace and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

  She didn’t understand.

  She stepped out too and found him standing near the bonnet, staring up at the moon. It cast silvery light down on him, kissing his hair and face, turning her demon into an angel. His eyes shone, tears reflecting the moonlight. She took his hand and longed to kiss away his tears and heal his pain. She wanted to tell him that he was no longer alone. She was here now and she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “What is it?” She touched her throat again, rubbing the bandages.

  “Do not be fooled,” he whispered up at the moon, his silver eyebrows furrowing. “My brother has hated me since I became a Venator.”

  Amber frowned. Kyran hated him? They had their moments of tension but she had never suspected that Kyran felt that way. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it. It didn’t seem possible.

  Kearn looked down at her, straight into her eyes, stealing her breath away with the tenderness in them and the need.

  She wanted to give in to him when he looked like that, when he looked as though she could save him from his pain. She would do whatever it took. Would she go as far as to become his forever if he asked it of her? She wasn’t sure.

  “Why?” she said.

  A hint of a smile touched his lips and then disappeared.

  “Because as eldest son, he should have become a Venator, not me. That is the tradition and the way it has always been. The Sovereignty changed it and took Kyran’s dream away, and gave me this nightmare.”

  Kearn stared back towards the house. Amber covered his hand with both of hers and her eyes traced his profile. If the Sovereignty had followed tradition and given the role of Venator to Kyran, Kearn’s life would have been so different. He would have been so different.

  Even if he had never met her, she wished his life had followed the course it should have and he had never become a Venator. She wished it because she knew in her heart that he would have been happy then.

  Kearn turned back to her. She touched her throat again.

  “Is something wro
ng?” He brushed her hand aside, his long fingers caressing the bandage in their place, his gaze following them.

  Amber thought about it. “It stings a little.”

  Kearn kept hold of her hand and led her into the dark lodge. He turned on the lights in the small dull cream entrance and then walked through another door and turned on the lights in that room too. It was a large pale living room.

  There wasn’t much furniture. Two dark red armchairs stood either side of an old stone fireplace to her right, with a small wooden coffee table. An empty Welsh dresser lined the left side of the wall opposite her, beside a closed door.

  Kearn walked forwards, forcing her to follow, and stopped under the naked light bulb in the middle of the room. He tilted her head up and removed the bandage from around her throat.

  His expression darkened.

  And then the edges of his irises melted into red.

  “You are bleeding.” His jaw tensed and his eyes slowly turned green again. “And I took you to the house.”

  Amber touched her neck and felt the wet blood.

  “No.” She lowered her hand and his gaze left her throat to meet hers. “It was okay a moment ago… when I was in the house it was fine… it was only after that.”

  It was after Kyran had asked how it was and she had rubbed it.

  “Keep still,” Kearn whispered and she snapped back to the room and him. His hand caught her under the jaw, his touch light yet as commanding as his words. She stood still, her head tilted back and held by him, and tried to follow his movements with her eyes.

  He leaned in, focused on her throat. His green eyes bled into crimson, so vivid in colour that she was sure she would never forget this moment and the sight of them. Kearn’s true nature. The man he had hidden from her. A man he thought she would fear. He had given her no reason to feel such an emotion towards him. She only felt a growing sense of need and affection.