The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

by Clay; Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. We have to go now."

  Adele's concern for him outweighed everything else, even her own safety. She couldn't doubt his determination, but a knot in her stomach grew tighter as they ran. The front of her coat was soaked in Gareth's blood, slapping warm and hard against her chest. They headed north, through the quiet orderly new city of Edinburgh. Glancing back at the dark castle she realized that she had not had the chance to say farewell to Morgana or even to Pet, and the pain of that struck her hard for a moment. She swore she would someday return to Edinburgh and take them both back to Equatoria.

  Gareth constantly scanned the sky above them, but to Adele's relief it remained clear. They left the city behind and entered a forested countryside. The terrain was uneven and overgrown, with only a few paths and cart tracks cut north through the tangled woodlands. The ground was muddy, making it a crueler and more unforgiving struggle for Gareth. Still, he set a grueling pace, covering miles of countryside. Adele did not argue because she knew what was at stake.

  As the long hours passed, Gareth's usual tenacity faded. He faltered twice only to catch himself at the last moment and push on. Adele saw the etched lines of determination on his face and knew that this man would put himself into a grave before he would stop.

  Finally, encroaching darkness made the footing more treacherous. When Gareth went down for a third time and stayed on his hands and knees, his panting breath spraying the ground with bloodied spittle as it hissed from his straining lungs, Adele prevented him from rising.

  "Enough, Gareth. You have to rest."

  "No time." The words rasped. His body ached as though from a great distance, and weakness plagued his bones. Far too much of his life's blood had seeped out.

  "At least let me sew your wounds so you don't lose any more blood. Please!"

  He tried to stand, but her hand all too effectively kept him grounded. Closing his eyes, Gareth fought to stay conscious as he licked at his lips before croaking with a voice as defeated as his battered body, "If Cesare catches us out here in the open ..."

  "Then so be it. But you won't make it to the end of the hedgerow, much less into some wild countryside in the north in this condition, and you know it." Her hand brushed his check, drawing his gaze up to hers. "Even Greyfriar must accept he has limitations."

  Gareth watched with dull eyes as Adele efficiently shoved off her pack and gathered what passed for rudimentary medical suppliesscissors and a simple needle and thread. He struggled to remove his coat, and she quickly moved to help. Then with scissors in hand she cut away his shredded shirt. She gasped at the vicious and ugly wounds.

  "Oh, Gareth," she whispered. She threaded the needle quickly, but when she turned to sew his torn flesh, she faltered.

  "I won't feel it," Gareth assured her even as he grimaced at the touch of her hand. "Quickly now, do what you must. Stop the bleeding, and I'll do the rest."

  Adele paused, still hesitant to add to his pain. "Should I remove my cross?"

  "It doesn't matter. Just don't say a prayer for me."

  Huffing at his odd humor, she remarked, "Better safe than sorry." She laid the silver object aside and bent to the task, jaw clenched. Gareth did not flinch or gasp, so her confidence grew until she realized she was quickly stitching as if he were merely a tailored shirt. The allusion made it easier to bear, though no less dreadful.

  Gareth tingled at her touch even without the cross, although without the same overwhelming intensity. He watched her with attentive eyes. Her steadfast nature through adversity was calming. Exhaustion nagged at him, his vision tunneling at times as his body threatened to shut down. He was loath to admit it, but he needed to feed. Baudoin's scolding frown was in his mind's eye, as if the servant was bidding his master to eat and build strength. Gareth smiled.

  "Gareth?" Adele's worried voice called to him. It took a moment, but then the prince concentrated, feeling a low ripple of fire along his nerves. He hadn't realized his eyes had slipped closed. Her hands were at his shoulders, anxiously attempting to rouse him.

  "I'm fine." Straightening, he placed a hand on hers to reassure her. Again, the current in her passed to him. It felt like a dull thumping against the back of his skin.

  "You're so pale," Adele whispered as she reluctantly sat back.

  "I was born pale." He released her hand and the current faded. He tried to rise but still lacked the strength. "Help me up."

  But she didn't, studying him, her eyes teeming with concern. "You need to feed, don't you?"

  He sighed. "Eventually. It will restore what I have lost. But there is no time for it now. Come, get me on my feet." He drew his long legs under him but couldn't find the strength to straighten them.

  Adele felt a sense of shame. Morgana and other humans were willing to spare some of their life's blood to help Gareth and didn't find it strange or repulsive. Adele had known Gareth only a short time, and yet she already understood this bond.

  He had given so much of himself to keep her safe, to keep everyone safe. And still he refused to falter. Her heart pounded at her chest as the impact of what this vampire, this man, had endured for her sake washed over her. The human princess of Alexandria knew what she wanted to do.

  She bared her arm to Gareth and met his pale gaze.

  His eyes widened as he realized her implication, and he reared back. "No, I cannot.... I'll feed from someone else."

  "There is no one else around. Gareth, you don't understand. I want this." Adele couldn't bear to see him suffer one minute longer, not when she could ease his hurt.

  "But there's no reason!"

  "There's every reason! I caused this pain." Her fingers dropped to gently brush against his hideous wounds. "So it should be my blood that eases your suffering." She shifted closer to him, preparing herself.

  Gareth exchanged a panicked glance with her and again tried to sway her from this venture. "You can't afford to be weak, Princess. Our flight will be long and arduous. We'll pass a settlement eventually. It will be wiser to let me feed from-"

  Adele cut him off with an exasperated sigh. "Good God! You're wasting valuable time. Now, drink." She lifted her arm to him, her voice softening, "Please. Let me heal you."

  Gareth's instinct cried for him to grab her arm and sink his teeth into her veins and drain her dry. That hunger was always with him, but his will had always been stronger. That was what set him apart from his kind. Through this act, he would come to know Adele more intimately than she could imagine. The desires and emotions that combined to make her who she was would slip tantalizingly across his tongue. Humans had no way of absorbing another on such a profound level. Or so Gareth assumed. He wasn't a human. He had never "loved" anything before. He protected the human inhabitants of Edinburgh. He cared for the cats that shared his home. But Princess Adele was the first being that he wanted to please, with every gesture or word.

  His strong graceful hands took her arm as if it were the most delicate of instruments. He brushed his lips against the warm skin at her wrist, and her breath drew into her lungs in a small gasp. He could hear her heartbeat race, and the flow of blood in her veins rushed beneath his lips like a river. He needed to dip into those waters and ease his pain.

  "You may turn away if you wish," he said, almost in rote fashion, his concentration solely on the blood just the skin's depth away from his mouth.

  "I won't turn away," she promised him softly.

  "Adele." Her name slipped like a prayer from his lips. He opened his mouth and extended his fangs and bit her swiftly.

  Adele reeled, reaching with her other arm to steady herself against the cold damp ground. The pain quickly faded, and all that remained was a pleasant warmth created by the heat of Gareth's lips on her skin and the rush of blood that sped to the source of his gentle bite.

  The thick rich liquid flowed into Gareth, bringing with it a torrent of knowledge that nearly overwhelmed him. In that instant, he knew all that Adele was-and it terrified him.
/>   Death.

  She tasted of death.

  Fear flooded his brain. Princess Adele would kill every vampire that walked the earth. Her hand would sweep across the land, purging all of his kind. There would be no place to hide. Even for him.

  Instinct demanded he kill her now. Save his people! Save himself!

  But he couldn't.

  Beneath the horror of her power he could sense her kindness, her rebellious spirit, her sense of wonder. All the things about her that thrilled him. And he tasted her profound feelings for him. She trusted him. She needed him.

  Adele's breath quickened. Gareth's gaze lifted, and his light blue eyes locked with her dark ones. She was desperate to convey to him she was all right. She was speechless, but she wasn't frightened. Where once his vampireness had terrified her, now she saw the eyes of Greyfriar nestled in the face of Gareth: tender, caring, and filled with wonder about everything human. Her gaze softened, a tender smile tugging at her lips.

  She released her hold on the rooted grass and touched his hair, silky and long between her fingers. Her contact was gentle and soothing. His wounds were terrible things to behold, and she wanted him to heal, needed him to be whole once more. She could never repay his sacrifices for her. He had turned his back on his kingdom, all for her. That devotion sparked in his eyes every time she looked into them. May all of mankind forgive her, but she cared deeply for him.

  Finally he withdrew. It was a quick motion, not so much painful but more a chill as the heat of his mouth left her. Gareth quickly placed a strip of his torn shirt over the small wound and tied it with a tender touch.

  Already there was a blush on his pale cheek as he wiped his lips clear of her dark rich blood.

  "Did I hurt you?" he asked almost shamefully.

  It took a moment to find her voice. "No, Gareth, you didn't," she reassured him, her voice soft. "But was it enough? Your wounds still look ghastly." She had no concept of how long it took for vampires to heal. She knew little about vampires other than how to kill them. And even if he could feel no pain, she did every time she looked at his raw injuries.

  "It was enough," he told her. "Thank you. I'm very grateful."

  "You are welcome to more if it would help."

  "Any more would drain you too much to travel. Trust me. In an hour or so, my flesh will close. Your blood has healed me." Gareth bowed his head.

  He had always known there was something special about her, but he had never expected the revelation he felt while feeding. She was terrifying in her power, yet he was unafraid. He had craved absolution from her and it had finally been granted; she was no longer afraid of him. He would forever be loyal to her, and now he was damned because of it. His whole species was damned, but he didn't care.

  Adele kissed his head softly, resting her cheek against him, relishing the relief she felt at his words.

  He looked up, his breath a shuddering inhale. "I will always protect you."

  For a brief moment, Adele forgot her own impending marriage to a man she did not know or care for. Instead she reveled in the moment she shared with Gareth, the Greyfriar. Her heart sang with the simple joy that fact brought.

  "We must keep going," Gareth cautioned, the fear of losing her again weighing heavily.

  "I know." Adele rose and pulled Gareth up with her, supporting him. But his vigor was already replenished, and his strong hands steadied her more than she him. They pulled away from each other reluctantly. Adele picked up her cross again and adjusted the Fahrenheit dagger and Greyfriar's revolver in her sash.

  She was ready.

  CHAPTER

  ESARE'S AIRSHIP MUSCLED into the air over Scotland. The ship flew low and slow, but with the confidence of superiority. There was no chance it could be attacked by an enemy. It was the king of the sky, despite the fact that it was an unpainted hulk with splintering wood and tattered sails. It looked like a ghost ship. The bloodmen slaves cared little for naval discipline or maintenance.

  Cesare paced the bow. A cruel smile flittered across the prince's thin, bloodless lips. No doubt Gareth would be livid that his younger brother had the audacity to challenge him on his home ground. If Gareth had been a true noble, he would have set his own packs, if he had any, on Cesare by now. Cesare would have loved a fight; his brother needed to be put in his place. The black stones of Edinburgh Castle finally slid beneath the hull of the ship. And still no challenge had come from Gareth.

  Cesare leapt over the rail, followed by Flay and a cadre of the Pale. They lit in the main courtyard. The place was empty-in fact, dismally barren. Except for cats, some of which stared openly at the vampires as they entered into the castle. The little beasts unnerved Cesare. Their constant mewling bored into his sensitive ears. How typical of Gareth to live among such vermin.

  "Show yourself, Gareth!" Cesare shouted. "I have no time for games!"

  From out of the shadows stepped a lean, tall vampire.

  "Baudoin," snarled Cesare. "I haven't seen you in ages. How comforting to know you're still coddling my brother."

  Baudoin bowed to his other nursery charge of long ago, out of duty rather than courtesy.

  "Take me to Gareth," Cesare demanded, done with feeble pleasantries.

  Baudoin droned an official reply, "Prince Gareth has urgent business in the west. I do not know when he will return. I must convey his enormous regrets."

  "He knew I was coming!" Cesare roared.

  Baudoin struggled to hold back the small smile at Cesare's childish tantrum. It was all very familiar. Apparently age had not tempered the young prince's self-important indulgences.

  "Then no doubt he will return soon." Baudoin bobbed his head in deference to Cesare's logic. "Surely he would not keep you waiting."

  Flay was not amused. She stepped close to Baudoin, her lips near the servant's neck. Baudoin stood straight, refusing to show fear to this fierce warrior, though he knew that she might kill him in an instant.

  "You're toying with your life, butler." Flay's tone was whisper low.

  "I only speak the truth."

  "Where is my brother?" Cesare asked.

  Baudoin shrugged. "One human settlement is like any other to me. I have no way of knowing which one he went to."

  Furious at the delay, Cesare kicked his way through the curious cats. Suddenly he spun to Flay. "Search the road to Clava in the north. There are places humans might hide from me there."

  Flay's lips split into a merciless grin. "It will be my pleasure." Her long fingers slid along Baudoin's neck, drawing a thin red line of blood as they withdrew.

  With a shrill hiss, she commanded three of her Pale. They slid into the air and left the castle's confines.

  Adele and Gareth ran across the countryside. He moved as if he had never been injured. The terrible wounds he carried were already losing their raw and horrible aspect. The thought that it was her blood that had healed him so quickly thrilled Adele. She did an admirable job of keeping up with his brutal pace. They moved as a well-oiled machine. She even flashed him a broad smile, enjoying their return to flight, just the two of them again. For a moment he was caught up in her exhilaration and belief that they would escape.

  "Where are we going?" Adele asked with labored breath.

  "North. There are stones there. Remember how you hid near stones on the road to Canterbury?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, there are many stones to the north. Vampires never go near them. It may help hide you from Cesare until I can make arrangements to get you out of Britain."

  Adele thought back to Canterbury. Her heart pounded with anticipation, a palpable desire to have that amazing surge roar through her again. Plus she felt, she knew, that such a place would keep her safe from any vampires, even Cesare and Flay. Then Adele remembered how Greyfriar had reacted to Canterbury. "Can you go to these stones?"

  "Yes. I can stay for a short while. It won't kill me."

  "Is there some other place? Some other way?"

  "No. We are in a corner, Prin
cess. The stones are your best hope now. There is nothing else."

  Adele didn't question further. They moved on relentlessly by day and night. They rested only when Adele could move no more. Skies grew grey, and rain spattered them constantly. Mists hid their footsteps along mossy pathways. The air grew colder, and the fierce Scottish wind howled hard around them. Gareth didn't notice, even though he had only his torn, long-sleeved frock coat over his bare chest. Adele longed for a fire and warm food, but she knew that was impossible.

  The terrain grew even more difficult. Valleys deepened, and sharp rock faces slashed up from the green hillsides. Ground turned wet and boggy. Heavy forests hid them from spying eyes overhead, but also made their path harder.

  Gareth paused under the boughs of great trees, staring out over a long open glen. They would need to sprint across the rolling moors to reach the next stand of trees. Although Adele made no sounds of weakness, he could tell she was failing from the chill and damp, and sporadic meals. The stones at Clava were still days away. He wanted to move so much faster, but Adele simply couldn't.

  Gareth took her by the hand and started out across the wet ground. The pain of her touch was almost minuscule now. She still gave off a fierce heat, but it wasn't searing. The strong wind slapped at their clothes. The soft turf squished beneath their boots. Adele could barely feel her feet as they fell one after the other over the muddy earth.

  Suddenly, Gareth stopped and stared back up into the sky. Three dark shapes dove for them out of the misty clouds. "They found us!"

  "Good. I couldn't run another step." With a scrape of steel, Adele drew the Fahrenheit blade. Her other hand pulled a pistol.

  Gareth found himself grinning at her fighting visage. She was a marvelous sight, hood flung back and her traveling cloak swirling about her as she spun toward the attackers.

  Gareth lifted into the sky to confront his kindred, relishing the fact that he could fight now as a vampire and not hide his abilities behind a human mask. His claws and teeth elongated as he drew close to the Pale. One vampire's head snapped back abruptly, and he went spinning backward as Gareth heard the report of Adele's pistol.