He dragged his gaze across the trees. “How many more will I lose?”
Chapter Sixteen
Benic snapped his horse’s reins as soon as he was out of the shifter forest and continued on his journey home. If only he could run the distance to the castle instead of riding an inferior beast. Vampires were built for speed, not endurance.
He’d lost interest in studying blood years ago but the appearance of the blue light and Susan had rekindled the passion. Benic touched the vial of her blood in his pocket to reassure himself it was still present. Ahote had almost crushed it while handling him in the tunnels. What a stroke of bad luck to come across those two.
He had just regained consciousness not long before, outside his secret exit, when they found him in the maze. Only his quick wits kept Kele from finding out the whole truth. That one was too smart for her own good.
She had to be suspicious of the events leading to Sorin and Susan’s escape. Why else question him? He’d given her all truthful answers though. Omitting information was the only lie a shifter couldn’t detect.
He’d been so close to keeping the human. She’d been willing to accompany him. The vial of blood was a beginning, at least. From it he might be able to glean human secrets and the connection between their two worlds.
Other dimension? Incredible. The possibilities were endless to find a solution to his people’s fertility problems. Susan’s dimension contained only humans, yet she insisted they lived on the same planet.
Her theories on time branches were groundbreaking. A vampire could spend his lifespan researching it. He took what she said at face value, considering she’d built a machine to travel here. She had the knowledge.
What had changed to make their worlds so different though? If time passed at the same rate on all dimensions, then why was hers more advanced? What prevented his people from creating such machines? Were they stupid?
So many questions, and the source of his answers was a prisoner to animals. They probably treated her like a stray instead of a miracle.
He snapped the reins again. Galloping along the dirt road, he watched as the outline of his castle grew more detailed.
Built of local stone, it blended well with the surrounding mountains. The high-guarded walls used to be a necessity when he first traveled here from Europa. The packs were extremely feral in those days. Led by their priestesses, they had stormed this settlement countless times. Another vampire lord had ruled this area. He’d been only a guard following orders in those days. There’d been so many misunderstandings and so much bloodshed. Yet vampires had prevailed.
The Apisi alpha might have Susan for now, but Benic would prevail as well.
As he approached his home, the thick, iron gate rose. They didn’t need to guard against attacks like in the old days. Most of the castle’s inhabitants were tame shifters, from packs around the world, domesticated over the decades. Benic ducked under the sharp points of the gate without slowing the horse’s pace, and he entered the village inside.
Vendors shouted to the people crowding the main street as he passed. A careless pup ran across the street in front of him, almost getting trampled. Benic waved at a small cluster of his vampire warriors sitting outside a pub. The noise was deafening after the peace of the wilderness.
He hadn’t been home in weeks and didn’t miss it. His superiors had awarded him this castle and tied him down, but his first love was the open road.
“Welcome home, my lord.” His vampire chamberlain bowed as Benic dismounted.
“Jonas, things look well. As usual.” He handed the reins to a stable boy, a feline shifter from Afrika. “How goes it?”
“Some letters have arrived in your absence and rest on your desk. I’ve dealt with most petitions from the villagers, but there are a few that require your attention. The planting in the east fields has begun, and I’ve sent the plows to the south…” Jonas’s voice droned. Vampires didn’t farm, but their blood sources needed the food. Domesticating the shifters had, in turn, tamed them. Farmers mostly, raising the beasts they fed from instead of hunting them. Pack hierarchy didn’t seem as prevalent as in the wild shifters. Maybe it lessened with a safer lifestyle?
“Fine, fine.” Benic waved him away. “I’m retiring to my lab for the evening. Send me Inacio. I’ll take care of the other things tomorrow.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The great hall in the main part of the castle was empty except for a serving wench wiping tables and the dogs sleeping by the hearth. He recalled curling among the animals as a child in his father’s hall during the winter nights in Gaul.
Benic dunked a tankard into the ale barrel and washed away the travel dust caught in his throat. The tang of ale refreshed his spirit but a bottle of fine wine would taste better. A tower, connected to this main hall, was for his personal use. If he’d had a family they could have resided there. He frowned into his empty tankard. Instead, the tower remained mostly unused, housing only his incubus and his lab.
The vampire population in North Amerigo was diminished. After the great shifter war, their numbers had plummeted. His castle housed only thirty, and all of them male, warriors in a territory with no conflict. He was running out of ideas to keep them out of trouble. They all wanted the same thing. A fertile vampire female, a wife, to raise a family.
A disease had struck the vampire population before his birth, and most of the victims were female. He was now a member of an endangered species. The world didn’t know of their precarious situation. It would leave them open for annihilation. Instead, the vampires protected their most precious resource—their females.
This meant most had remained in Europa during the great migration. Benic had thought once the wild lands were settled and tamed, his requests for a wife would be granted. Yet fifty-three years had gone by since the last conflict, and he still lived half a life.
He climbed the circular stairs to his bedroom and grabbed a key from under his mattress. Continuing to the top of the tower, he inserted the key. It twisted unhampered, age not a factor with such good craftsmanship, and unlocked the door. Vampires made things to last.
He hadn’t entered this room in years.
A macabre lace of webs decorated the walls and ceilings of his lab. Benic trailed his finger through the dust on the sturdy table in the center of the room. It still held his chemistry set. He righted a small coal burner lying on its side.
“I’m home.” Many days and nights he’d spent here trying to demystify the mechanics of the body, every nuance of each microscopic element that triggered changes and fought disease. Hoping to find a way to save his people, he studied every species he came across.
He’d examined the fertility cycles of shifters and merpeople, classed their hormones and compared them to vampires. He even bought an expensive incubus from the southern slave markets and tried to isolate its pheromones, which acted like an aphrodisiac, to understand the effects on vampire sexuality.
Every known species on Eorthe had a blood sample preserved in his lab. All this effort, all this work and study, yet no results. Plenty of knowledge though. He’d created cures, helped in crop production and written books. Vampire birth rates still dwindled.
“Here you are.” A rich, male voice spoke behind Benic. It ran over his skin like thick silk and trapped his breath in his throat. He twisted to watch Inacio stride into the lab. Graceful and limber, Benic’s incubus could make a grown male fall in lust with a single glance. His effect on females was more diabolical.
Some said these creatures were worshiped in the far south as gods. If Benic were less learned, he could understand such beliefs.
“Inacio, you look well fed.” His incubus used the staff at will to fulfill his appetites. The waiting list was considerable. The better he fed Inacio, the stronger his incubus’s blood became, and in turn, the stronger Benic grew. Another benefit of Benic’s studies of the other races. “Come here, my sweet.” He opened his arms, suddenly starved. He hadn’t feasted since he left
.
Inacio’s eyes narrowed. “I hate it when you call me that.” He still hurried to his arms.
Benic inhaled deeply and relished Inacio’s spicy scent. The pheromones became addictive with time. He’d learned that too late. “I know.” Grasping his thick, midnight hair, Benic pulled Inacio’s head back, exposing the well-muscled neck. “This will hurt.”
Strong hands pressed him closer. “Good.” The sound of Inacio’s pulse quickened.
The rush of his blood called to Benic. Not needing more foreplay, he bit. Fangs pierced delicious flesh with a sharp pop, and then the warm gush of blood met his tongue. Power enhanced the incubus’s salty flavor. Benic took long, slow swallows, in no hurry to finish his feed.
Inacio ground his groin against Benic’s thigh, moving as if caught in the throes of pleasure. His hands slid down Benic’s back and found purchase on his ass. Inacio’s unrestrained passion contrasted so much to Kele’s shy kiss.
Benic didn’t know which he enjoyed more.
Kele had been so unsure and shocked when he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was an impulse. She seemed so…alone hiding in the garden, watching Ahote take another female to bed. How could her pack waste such potential? There was untapped strength in that shifter, and he wanted to set her free.
Inacio went limp in his embrace and unbalanced Benic. Taking one more swallow, the vampire stumbled to set his incubus on a cot by the wall, the rich taste lingering on his tongue.
“So soon?” Inacio clutched him tighter. “You’ve been gone for weeks. You should need more. Have you fed from another?”
“No.”
The incubus was deathly pale.
“How is it that you can fuck anything with legs while I’m away yet can act so possessive of me?”
Inacio’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“No one. I fed from no one.” Benic turned his back on Inacio. “I don’t have time for dramatics today. Thank you for feeding me so promptly.”
The dusty glass slides he required were set next to the microscope. He listened to Inacio roll over on the cot, too weak to storm from the room, and Benic cleaned one of the slides to use. “I just need to examine a sample of blood then you’ll have my undivided attention.” He glanced at him over his shoulder.
Inacio sprawled with languid grace on his side. “It’s been a long while since you’ve spent time in here. What is the occasion?”
Benic retrieved the vial of blood. Tipping it back and forth, he watched the ruby liquid roll—such a simple thing to gaze upon with the naked eye yet it held vast, microscopic secrets. After he set a drop on the slide, he placed it under his priceless microscope.
As he examined the cells, his dormant knowledge returned as if he hadn’t left his studies. At first glance his heart stilled. Susan’s blood didn’t appear different. How could an unknown species from another world be so similar? He pinched the bridge of his nose and stared into the microscope again. Not a different world. It was the same world but a different dimension.
They were the same at this level of biology. He needed to search deeper. More tests had to be run. He filled another thin vial, cranked the spinner and set it into the contraption. Once the red blood cells were separated, he could test for smaller things like hormones, antibodies and electrolytes.
Soft snores grabbed his attention. He twisted around.
Inacio had undone his shirt and the laces of his pants but slept soundly.
“What am I going to do with you?”
Chapter Seventeen
Last night’s funeral had left Susan wiped out. Drained. Finished. None of her past projects had such stakes as high as this one. If she didn’t succeed, people would continue to die. This kind of strain sucked. How did doctors live with it?
She wandered the quiet den. Most of the sick were children. The marrow in her bones turned to ice in the early morning sun, and she tried to generate heat by rubbing her arms. Peder had offered her his pallet for the night. He’d be awake taking his turn with the ill. However, there were a lot of empty pallets in the rooms she passed, and the reason behind it drove away the solace of sleep.
Whispers carried through open doorways, too soft for her to understand yet their worried tones were clear. Were they saying goodbye? If not, maybe they should.
The sand squished between her bare toes, a hint of the night’s cool still present. She wandered between the canyon walls. She had breathed more fresh air in the last few days than in the past year on Earth.
Her aimless meandering brought her to the massive wooden main gate that kept the wild things of the forest from entering and eating her. She ran her hand over the surface. The wood was smoothed with age—not a single splinter tugged at her skin. Except wild creatures lived within the den and they might wear civil faces but she’d seen their feral halves.
“Leaving?”
The deep voice sent a shiver through her soul. She didn’t understand how he had such an effect on her. No other man had ever sent her heart racing at the slightest whisper. She spun around. “What are you doing here?”
“Guarding the den. You?” Sorin strolled around her until he blocked the gate. His long hair shone with the faint morning light and cried for a good brushing.
“I wasn’t leaving. I think better on my feet.”
“Ahh… Maybe you should take your thoughts away from the gate.” He pointed back toward the dead-end area of the canyon.
She set her hands on her hips before she used them to smack some sense in him. Alpha or no alpha. “Would you stop me if I wanted to go?” After spinning around, she stomped away but it was difficult barefoot in the sand.
A whisper of movement, which she sensed more than heard, followed. “Pay no attention to what the Payami said about me. I’ll keep my word. You’re not a prisoner, but it isn’t safe outside by yourself.”
“What do you mean?” She twisted around.
Sorin halted before running her over, leaving a hair’s space between them. “I’m not a dog. I’ve never mistreated anyone. If you want to return to the Payami, I’ll find someone to escort you, but I have to remain here.”
“Why do they think so badly of you?” He stood so close. She could barely breathe.
“Most people don’t trust Apisi. We have a bad reputation.” In the dawn shadows, she could only see the outline of his body as he shrugged, and the eerie glow of his wolf’s eyes. “My father was a tyrant.”
She resisted the urge to lean forward and close the minute distance between them. The male had the social skills of a drill sergeant, and hers were starved from neglect. She waited in the heavy silence but Sorin didn’t share any more information. “Sorry to hear that.” She shoved her toe into the soft ground.
He had buried pack members only a few hours ago. He needed a therapist, not a physicist. Susan recognized the weariness in his eyes though. “Do you have any tea?”
“In the kitchen, on the shelf above the potatoes.”
“Come and show me. I don’t know where the damn potatoes are.”
“We have limited guards on the wall. I should—”
She grabbed his hand and pulled. The Chrysler Building weighed less. “I don’t think an invasion is imminent. You sound like you need tea.” Hell, he sounded like he could use a hug, a massage and a good night’s sleep.
He allowed her to pull him to the kitchen where a small fire still burned in the hearth. She filled a pot with water while he retrieved the tea.
“I don’t know anything about the Apisi.” She hung the pot over the flame.
His stiff back was turned to her.
“It means I have no preconceptions. No opinion one way or the other about your pack. From what I’ve witnessed, you all appear very caring.”
He tossed some mint-scented leaves in the heating water.
The silent, strong act was becoming stale. He hid so much behind that mask of indifference, but she’d glimpsed the sorrow at the gravesite, heard his distress when he asked her help, and received a
moment of his kindness on the top of the mountain. Combined, she suspected that was the real Sorin. Not this distant male.
She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I never doubted you.”
He withdrew from her touch. “You appeared terrified every time we met for someone so full of trust.”
“You snatched me from—from…” What exactly? Safety? Not really. Kele’s pack wanted to beat her and Ahote to bed her. “Then you insisted on climbing the cliff face. What were you expecting? Once we made the deal and set terms, I knew you’d keep to your part.”
“How?”
The question slapped her quiet. She knew so little about Sorin. This proved it. Sighing, she sat on the ground in front of the hearth.
He joined her. The light from the flame softened the hard edges of his face as he leaned forward. “So?”
“Uh, I don’t know. You didn’t hurt me like the Payami alphas did.”
He grimaced, a low growl emanated from his chest. “And they call us feral.”
“Kele’s mother is a bitch.” Susan poked at the ashes with a stick. “It’s over with. I survived. That’s another thing though. You never made me submit like they did.”
He brushed his fingertips along her cheek and under her chin, tilting it to meet his gaze. “You’re not a shifter. How can you know pack law?”
The firelight deepened the amber of his eyes; the cold mask had lifted and genuine concern reflected there. Susan wanted to bathe in the honey of his gaze. She leaned forward into his touch.
His lips twitched as if trying to decide to smile or frown. “Tea’s ready.” He turned away.
Swallowing her disappointment, she rose with a groan and stretched her aching back. She retrieved two clay cups and handed them to Sorin.
He poured the tea and carried them to the table where she plopped onto a chair. She hadn’t done any of the climbing yesterday but her muscles went into spasms as if she had.
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