Resurrected: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

by Kim Faulks

  No matter how hard we strove to be equal, the cruel truth was we females weren’t and never would be as valuable to the pack as the males. Our lives turned into a battle of survival.

  The other mothers hurried their children along, heads down. They wouldn’t lift their heads to stare back—they knew the truth. We were all a Maddy in our own way—an inconvenience, a burden easily discarded. So we made no sound, we drew no attention to ourselves, or each other.

  I sprinted ahead catching sight of Walker’s back. I licked my arid lips and forced a wheeze. “Walker.”

  He turned. His deep frown narrowed just that little bit more. He hated me. He blamed me. I saw the truth in his eyes. “Something’s wrong with Maddy. Get Buck.”

  His stare widened. Slowly turning, he glanced behind me. “Is it the baby?”

  “Yes.” His eyes widened, his lips parted. I could see the need rise, such a primal need to care for the mother of his child. Yet, his teeth gnashed as he snapped his mouth shut.

  “If you care for her at all, you’ll get Buck now.”

  In a blink he was moving, turning to race ahead. The top of his pack bounced, striking the back of his head. Hurry. I braced my hands on my knees and sucked in the pine-scented air. For Goddess’ sake, hurry.

  Walker’s voice rang out. First there was a murmur, then a call. I turned and made my way back to where Maddy lay.

  Children skipped and danced by as I passed the other women of our pack. They looked at me and my chest ached at the desperation in their eyes.

  Don’t call attention to us. Don’t cause any trouble.

  Odessa’s voice drifted to me as I passed the last of the women and children. “You’re not going to lose your baby. They say I have special gifts, you know. I can see into the future.”

  I slowed my steps at those words. It was the first time I’d spoken to Odessa. She didn’t walk with the pack, only behind us. This was the first I’d heard of her gifts. I slowed my steps, watching her lean over Maddy.

  “Are you telling me the truth?” Maddy’s whimper slipped deeper into a grunt. The helplessness in her voice stole my breath.

  “Always. You’re going to have a beautiful girl. She will bring you much happiness.”

  “Quiet. Not too loud. They might….” I hushed, turning to find the men. “They might overhear.”

  Maddy whipped her head left, then right. Her breaths were harsh, speeding with each second she rode the brutal wave. I glanced toward the juncture of her thighs. Bright blood soaked the front of her shift.

  Too much blood.

  Even I knew that.

  I shuffled forward, skirting the two women to stop at her feet. Maddy’s tanned skin looked ashen, but her brown eyes never left the wolf beside her. Something hovered around Odessa. Some whisper of other toyed with the edges of my mind. I narrowed in on Odessa as Maddy whispered. “And you? What do you see in your future?”

  The lone wolf straightened, her head slowly rose as she set her amber eyes on me. “I see water. Lots and lots of water.”

  A thread unraveled from my thoughts. I followed the tether to this tiny wolf. I didn’t know her—no one did. We scented her one morning, walking behind the pack. With each day that passed she came closer and closer until she mingled with those at the back.

  She was just one lone wolf in a sea of hunters. I looked around—one lone wolf who stayed, when everyone else had left.

  “Hold on, Maddy. Buck’s coming.” I whispered, dropping to my knees. “He’s coming.”

  Odessa nodded and climbed to her feet, bowing her head. “I’ll leave you two be.”

  “Wait.” I lunged and grasped her thin arm. “Please, stay.”

  The quiet words slipped from her lips. “If she wants me to.”

  “Yes.” Maddy growled, thrashing against the dirt. “I want you to.”

  I lifted my head at the slow, heavy thuds. Buck jogged toward us. His white beard hid glowing red skin. The old man puffed and panted, slowing to a walk and dropped his backpack to the ground. “Maddy, what’s happening, darlin’?”

  “I’m bleeding. The baby’s coming.” She forced her words through clenched teeth. “It’s too early, Buck. It’s too earlyyy!”

  “I guess the little one’s saying otherwise, honey. We need water, you two. Start a fire. Get it nice and hot. We need towels and cloths. And we need to move her over to the shade. I’ll get the men to do that. You women will have your hands full.”

  I nodded, rising to my feet. “Can you stay, Odessa? Hold her hand. Keep her calm.”

  Odessa nodded. “Of course.”

  I shoved my palm against the ground and climbed to my feet. Walker raced toward us, tearing his terrified gaze from Maddy’s bloody thighs to me. “What do you need?”

  “Wood.” I stumbled toward the small bank of trees, sticks and branches scattered the forest floor. “I need to make a fire.”

  Walker followed me, leaving the others behind. “You take care of her, Abrial. I don’t want the others to think I’m weak.”

  I flinched at the words. “Is a man weak when he takes care of his own child? Or the woman he lays with?”

  “To the others, yes. I have to be strong. I have to show them I can lead.”

  “A leader goes without for the sake of those in his pack. A leader protects them at all costs. That’s a leader, Walker. What they’re teaching you to be is weak. Someone has to fight for those he loves and those who love him. Someone has to make a stand.”

  “It doesn’t work like that. You, of all people know this. Women do the work, bear the children. We’re not the same as each other, Abrial. We’re never going to be the same.”

  I shook my head. “You’re right. That’s never going to happen. How can you be a leader, when you have nothing to lead?”

  My vision blurred. Sweat dripped from my forehead to sting my eyes. I turned from Walker to scrounge the ground for kindling.

  “What’s the hold up?”

  The sound of Hurron’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck rise. I straightened. “The baby’s coming.”

  “Can’t she walk a little farther? We can take a break—”

  I spun, my lip already rising in a snarl. “No. She can’t walk further. Her baby is coming, Hurron. If she keeps going, we could lose her and her child.”

  The emptiness in his eyes said more than words ever could. I searched the dirt, trying my best to keep the venom from my words. “If she loses the baby and it’s a boy, then you’ve lost one more warrior. Or don’t you even care about that anymore?”

  A spark ignited in his lifeless gaze. He dropped his head. “Fine. We’ll make camp then.”

  I turned away, lest he see the disgust on my face.

  We didn’t need the wood. The fire inside me burned hot enough for all of us.

  The pine trees blurred. My sweat mingled with tears to slide down my cheeks. All I saw was the blood on Maddy’s clothes and the fear in her eyes. Unseen hands clenched my throat.

  Keep walking.

  Carry the food.

  Tend to our fires.

  Spread your legs.

  Bear our children.

  Look up at me.

  I will sell your body. I will sell your soul.

  Were we worth so little?

  The sticks in my arms rattled. I tried to still the shake. What if Buck can’t help her? How far are we from the town?

  Why would the humans help? I had no other choice. I had to try.

  A scream tore through the forest, scattering the birds above. She’ll never make it. But I can. Haunted brown eyes and sunken cheeks filled my mind. My steps slowed… then stilled, tethered by a memory I couldn’t shake. A memory I didn’t want to shake.

  I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to help. His soft words belied the fire in his eyes. He wasn’t human. So, why would he help us? My pulse quickened. The beat was thundered, like that of a wolf racing at break-neck speed. Running, running.

  Why would he help?

&
nbsp; Because he wants me.

  The wolf stopped, panting. I felt my inner animal focus on Marcus, the man who’d nearly run over me. He wanted me. I closed my eyes and whimpered and the wolf echoed in kind. He wanted me. His fire licked long, languid strokes inside my belly, warming a stony hearth which had been cold—until now.

  No, there has to be another way.

  “This will get you started while I gather more.”

  Walker dragged thick branches behind him. He swiped the sweat from under his short blonde hair and stared at me. We were the same age. We lived together, played together—loved each other. He was my best friend—my cousin. I loved him like a brother and yet, we’d become strangers.

  Could I trust Walker to protect us?

  I stared at him—this stranger I’d always known. I’d never sensed the divide until this very moment.

  Where did I belong? Maddy’s cry shattered the thought. I felt the tiny flap of wings as sparrows scattered inside my chest. Where did I belong?

  “Are you thinking about him, the man you killed?” Walker whispered, stepping closer. “Are you thinking about the blood on your hands?”

  I flinched. Yet I never felt the chill of his words—how could I, when I was already frozen inside? If only I could make him understand. “I’ll gather the rest of the wood.”

  I’d never been so glad to see his back—this brother of mine. I followed Maddy’s cries, dropping the wood into a pile and set to work, piling kindling and tuffs of dried grass into the middle, then catching the spark of a flint.

  Tiny puffs of white smoke drifted as I blew. The grass caught alight, then leaves and dried sticks until a tiny yellow flame danced. I stared into its black belly, and in my mind, I caught the spark in Marcus’ eyes. I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to help.

  My chest tightened. This man—this stranger—affected me in ways my kin didn’t. I tried to quell the heat inside, but there was too much kindling and the fire blazed.

  “Ow.” I yanked my hand away as the flames singed the tips of my fingers, then dimmed.

  More leaves, more wood. I fed the burn one mouthful at a time. The greedy flare reached for me, hungry. My fingers stung. The fire was ferocious.

  “Something’s wrong with my baby!”

  Maddy’s howl yanked me into the present. I scurried to my feet as Buck stood. He turned his head and our gazes collided. His shoulders sagged. I felt the weight in my own.

  “Isn’t there?” Maddy’s moans turned to whimpers. “Isn’t there something wrong!”

  “I don’t know what to do. The head should be low, but I feel the mound against her belly. It’s the wrong way around. There’s nothing I can do.”

  I shook my head as he wiped his hands on a bloody rag. “You can’t leave her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  How many times had I heard those words? One hundred? One thousand? Those words sickened me, wadded up and shoved down my throat. They weren’t an excuse. They didn’t excuse him. They didn’t excuse anyone.

  “Go away, then. Leave. If she dies, her blood’s on you.”

  He shook his head. His white hair fluttered in the breeze. “That’s not fair, Abrial. If this was a wound, I could heal it. But….”

  “Odessa. Can you find some water? Ice cold, okay? I’ll grab the rags.” I rolled up my sleeves and looked at the bloody mess. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”

  Maddy’s eyes were bright with fear. “Okay.”

  I snatched the rag from Buck’s hands and moved to Maddy’s side. My knees hit the ground hard as I dropped. I slid the back of my hand across her ruddy forehead. “We have to bring your temperature down. It’s not good for you, or the baby, to be so hot.”

  “I’ll find some water. I’ll be quick.” Odessa dropped to her pack, her fingers worked fast to untie a pail. Then she was running, tearing through the trees like a deer in full flight.

  Odessa’s movement tried to steal my focus, but I kept my gaze fixed on the terrified mother-to-be. “Your baby’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

  I yanked a shirt from my pack and scrambled toward her, while inside I prayed for Odessa to hurry. Maddy’s face turned red as she dropped her chin and clenched her body tight.

  “We’re going to be fine.” I whispered as Maddy whimpered. “We’re going to be fine.”

  Minutes seemed to crawl by, but finally, water sloshed against the sides of a pail when Odessa cut through the underbrush at my back. She gulped the air, her chest heaved. “It was the coldest I could find.”

  I speared my hand into the pail as Odessa stumbled over to her spilled pack. Cloth tore. Her hands worked fast to rip and shred before she shoved rags into my hands. I stared at the sleeves, shirts torn in two, and pants torn into smaller chunks.

  I looked up at her. “These are your clothes?”

  “Yes. They’re clean. Clean enough anyway.”

  I grasped the fabric and shoved my fist into the bucket, soaking up the frigid water. “Odessa, can you hold her hand, while I try to get her temperature down?”

  I wiped Maddy’s forehead with the cloth until the fabric turned hot. I wet the rag again, drifting down to her temples, then sliding under her hair to the nape of her neck.

  “That feels so good,” Maddy whispered.

  I nodded, keeping the motion. Soak, wipe, soak, wipe, until her reddened cheeks paled. Under my touch, the current raced, bearing down, tightening until her body trembled, and I thought she could take no more.

  One after another the contractions came. Odessa’s hand pale under Maddy’s grip. The lone wolf never whimpered and never let go.

  I dipped the rag into the bucket and rubbed Maddy’s face while I rode the lightning in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, Maddy. You’re so strong. You’re so unbelievably strong.”

  “I’m not.” She cried, dropping her head to the flattened coat. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  Hour after hour, Maddy screamed, then cried and whimpered. Still, the contractions came no closer together.

  The sun slipped through the trees, beating down above us, then toppled from its throne. Odessa grasped Maddy’s hand from mine. I fumbled with the cup and lifted Maddy’s head, but my fingers were numb. My heart numbed too, as the day dimmed.

  “Again,” the lone wolf whispered, growling with Maddy as the battle began once more. White teeth shone in the dimming light. Their growls sounded hungry, ready to tear this unseen enemy apart, until with a soft cry, Maddy signaled this wave was over—and we waited for a new battle to begin.

  Her lips glistened as I squeezed the rag against her lips, then left her side to quickly stoke the fire as the sun slipped away. Even in the dark we battled, dropping our heads to catch our breath before I checked between Maddy’s legs. In the silence, there was only our breaths. No one came near us, we battled this demon alone—a demon who was winning.

  Under the contractions, Maddy’s belly was silent. I couldn’t feel the baby kick and hadn’t for some time. Not even a shift against her body, nothing. The labouring mother’s grunts and groans were husky, rolling from one into another as she thrashed. Time seemed to stand still.

  “You’re wrong,” Maddy snapped, yanking Odessa forward. The tiny wolf toppled, falling into her. “You’re wrong. My baby’s dead.”

  I reached for her belly and pulled her shift out of the way. Blood. There was so much blood.

  “I’m never wrong.” Odessa gripped Maddy’s hand, never wavering. “You just wait and see. I’m never wrong.”

  The young wolf leaned over, until her nose touched Maddy’s. Eye-to-eye. Magic passed between them. In the distance, lightning lit up the clouds. A storm was coming. I felt the power from this lone wolf crawl over my skin and snatch the breath from my lungs, leaving me with the lick of cold night air.

  “Are you ready, Madeline? Are you ready to meet your daughter?” Odessa growled.

  Maddy held her gaze and screamed. “Yes!”


  Pain ripped through the suffering wolf, capturing my focus as she stilled. In her eyes I watched her mind race to catch up. Then her jaw slackened, her lips parted. For a second I heard no sound until the wave hit me. Her bloodless scream shattered the silence. There was no breath—there was no time.

  Blow after blow, her body took the brunt. The wolf by her side urged her to growl. Maddy lifted her chin until her throat stretched, neither human nor wolf, and howled.

  I felt the stirring in my soul. I let my head fall backward. The wolf rushed to the surface, meeting the night with a cry of its own. Our voices mingled together, Maddy’s, Odessa’s, and mine until the fire ebbed in my belly and my throat ran dry.

  I dragged myself over her splayed leg to kneel between her bloody thighs. Something pink slid free. I lunged forward with shaking hands, catching the bottom of one perfect foot and then the other.

  Toes, so tiny they were nothing more than perfect little stumps. The sight wavered, then was swallowed by the blur of tears. “You’re doing it. You’re doing it Maddy. Keep pushing. Keep going. She’s almost here… she’s almost here.”

  Her scream ran dry. Then, in a breath, the sound filled the air once more. I cupped two perfect little legs, cradling the slippery bottom as her body slipped free. Maddy’s body held on tight to her head. The baby couldn’t yet breathe, but in my mind I was screaming. She’s suffocating. She’s dying.

  “One more, Maddy. Come on. One more push.”

  Odessa gripped Maddy’s hand, raising her fingers to the gods and slid their fingers together. I caught the quake as the baby’s head slipped into my hands.

  She was perfect.

  So unbelievably perfect.

  But her face was grey.

  Should she be so grey?

  The sudden sound of tearing cloth stole my focus. Odessa jerked the hem of Maddy’s neckline, exposing her breasts, then her belly. “Lay the baby on her chest, heart-to-heart. She needs to hear her home.”

  I cradled the lifeless form, watching her little arms fall to the side, then slide along her mother’s skin. Please be okay. Please breathe.

  I rubbed her little body, pushing her against Maddy’s chest. A tiny mewl, not even a whimper. I held my breath. Did I imagine the sound?