Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Night [Bloodborn 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

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Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Night [Bloodborn 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 14

by Tracy L. Ranson


  "Much thanks, m'lord. I cannot."

  "Nonsense. Climb up on my horse and I'll take you to my home."

  The girl seemed a little frightened yet undaunted. She strode over to his horse and took his hand.

  Once the girl got up on the horse, Liz could see her identity. It was Zakara.

  When his passenger was safely loaded, Raphael kicked his purebred horse in the flanks and headed toward the woods. Was that the way to his home?

  The scene continued on until they reached a cavern buried deep within the forest. "Why are we stopping here?" Zakara asked in a soft, girlish voice.

  "No reason," he answered as he dismounted and pulled her from the horse.

  "Then what are we doing here?"

  Liz could hear the fear in Zakara's girlish voice, her heart sinking. Was Raphael going to commit the ultimate crime against a woman?

  Raphael's lips immediately went to her neck, his hands all over her body.

  "No!" she screamed, trying to get away from him. It was no use. He was far larger than she.

  He overpowered her with hardly any effort. "Stop it, do you hear! This is my land," he snapped, "And anyone or anything," his gaze traveled up and down her body lustfully, "belongs to me to do with as I wish."

  Raphael was vicious and cruel as he forced the girl to the ground, violating her as harshly as possible.

  Liz turned away. No, this wasn't the Raphael she knew. "Stop all these lies, Zakara," she said wearily, the tears running down her cheeks. "I don't and won't believe anything you tell me or show me, no matter how long you torture me."

  Zakara waved her hand over the globe, banishing the horrific vision. "It’s not lies, bitch. You’ve finally gotten to see the real Raphael. He is out only for himself and doesn't care about anyone. When he came upon you, he was looking to get laid, nothing more. You were just a toy to him."

  "That's not true," she insisted weakly, her body feeling as though it were composed of nothing except wet rags. Deep in her heart, she knew that Raphael loved her beyond all question.

  "Oh, it is, my dear lard ass," Zakara purred as she set the globe on a red velvet pillow next to her. "It's all true. Tell me, are you willing to sacrifice yourself for someone who cares nothing for you?"

  She didn't miss a beat. "Yes. If by my death it means he will be free, then so be it."

  Zakara's black brows knitted in anger, her darkly bronzed skin wrinkling in response. "He will never be free," she snarled as she rose from her throne, moving her body in a fluid motion. "He was born to be my consort and rule by my side. Nothing will ever, ever, change that. Not even your death will free him."

  * * * *

  Raphael's feet touched the beach at the same time as the others, anger fueling his movements. He stood there for a moment, catching a scent too faint for mortals to detect. It was the scent of death and fear, a once beautiful odor. No more. The only thing it signaled was the possible demise of his beloved. "She's around here." He inhaled a little deeper, trying to get the direction of her scent.

  Several dank cave openings yawned before them, almost as if teasing them to try and choose the right one. "It figures she would choose this place," Nick muttered as he closed in on Raphael's side, the sound of creaking leather mingling with the sting of the water crashing against the rocks.

  "I can smell her," Raphael said slowly as he stalked toward the middle opening, his fists balling at his sides. He felt beads of blood form where his nails pierced his skin. "She's in the middle one."

  Siobhan sniffed as well. "I thought perhaps she wouldn't want us back,” she observed. "She wants us to return badly."

  "That can't happen." Raphael charged ahead, the edges of his black leather cloak whipping around his ankles. "I'll die before we go back to her."

  "I'm hoping that won't be necessary," Drake said as he rose into the air. "I'm ready for this fight tonight."

  Raphael rose, as well as the others. "So am I, my friend," he replied, his gaze trained toward the cave opening. "So am I."

  * * * *

  Liz opened her eyes. She was in completely new surroundings. Instead of the dark little room she'd been in, she was in a wide-open courtyard.

  Moonlight came from an opening in the ceiling, the pale light turning everything a ghostly gray. Tall stones surrounded the stone floor and pale moss grew all over everything. To one side, she could see a door chiseled with ancient symbols. She looked to her right. There was an identical door. Where was she?

  She could feel the hard slab of rock underneath her, the points digging into her back. Tight iron bound her wrists to the stretches of stone on either side, the metal digging into her flesh.

  Dark shadows flitted within the arched porticos. Silently, they descended the steps, heading toward her. She couldn't see their faces because of the cowls covering their heads.

  Liz wanted to scream yet she wouldn't give Zakara the satisfaction of her fear even though she knew this was the end for her. Whatever happened from this moment on, she had to be strong for Raphael's sake.

  The figures stopped five feet away from her, their white, lethal fangs glistening in the dim light.

  Fear gripped her in its strong claws. She wasn't going to give in to it.

  "They frighten you, I can tell," Zakara purred behind her.

  "No, they don't," she replied as firmly as she could.

  Clip. Clap.

  She heard Zakara's footsteps as she came toward her. "Yes, they do," Zakara said, circling Liz. "No need to hide it from me, my dear. Besides the stink of your body odor, you have the smell of fear," she announced, her mouth opening to show the lethal fangs. "Don't worry, it will all be over soon."

  "I'm ready to die."

  "No, you're not," Zakara snapped. "You humans are such a pathetic race! You have the ability to remain young and beautiful forever, yet you turn away from it! Do you not know the power of a vampire?"

  "I would rather die than become one of you."

  Zakara strode to the table, leaning over it so that she hovered above Liz's face. "You would become one if Raphael wanted you to be."

  She held her chin up as best she could. "He has already offered me your," she swallowed hard, "gift, and I did not accept it."

  "How long will you hold out, mortal? A week? A month? A year? Even if Raphael is true to you, how will you feel when you begin to age year after year yet he remains the same? What will you do then?"

  She turned away. Zakara was right. She had thought about it all. Raphael was the center of her universe, a man she could love for all eternity. Except her eternity was limited. "If you're going to kill me, bitch, just get it over with. I'm tired of your games."

  Zakara let out an evil laugh. "You think I'm toying with you? My dear, you have no idea of the games I have in mind for you." Her black eyes flicked to the band surrounding the stone slab. "Show her, my children, what kind of games I'm ready to play."

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned a male from the dark shadows near her feet.

  Liz craned her neck and saw with relief Raphael stepping from the confines of the blackness. "Raphael, don't come any closer! If she kills me, you will be next."

  "Then there will be hell to pay," he said, stepping forward, his pale face gleaming in the moonlight. Dark leather encased his body, topped by a flowing black cloak. Ebony hair danced around his shoulders, much longer than she had ever seen it, bits of it clouding his eyes. Even from her position, she could feel the anger radiating from him.

  She turned to look at the others. Nick, Drake, Gabrielle, Alex and Siobhan were all standing behind him, outfitted the same way with the same determined look in their eyes.

  "I see my prodigal king has returned to me," Zakara purred as she strode over to him with panther-like grace. "Come, it is time to end this poor creature's life so that you can return to my side."

  "If you end her life, then mine ends, too," he snarled.

  "You belong to me," Zakara insisted as she stroked her hand down his chest.
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  Liz felt her wall of resolve let go, allowing the fear to flood her entire being. She started to shake and shiver as the room turned much colder. How were they all going to stand against the most powerful vampire of them all?

  "You never had me," he snapped as he gripped her wrist. "Let Elizabeth go."

  Zakara cast an evil glance in her direction, making her heart beat even more erratically than before. "Never."

  "Then, what you will not give, I will take by force," he warned, his white fangs shiny.

  Zakara looked at Liz. "Sound familiar, you fool?"

  Liz looked away in order to avoid looking at Raphael. Even though she knew they were lies, the scene still lingered in her head.

  Raphael's brows knitted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

  "I showed her our first time together, Raphael," Zakara purred. "Surely you remember?"

  Liz watched Raphael's expression fall for a moment before turning to one of pure, unadulterated hatred and anger. "That wasn't how it happened and you know it."

  "Come with me and I will show her the truth," Zakara promised as she brushed her supermodel body against him.

  "No," he looked at Zakara's minions around her. "Get back." None of them flicked a muscle. "Let me make things a little easier for you."

  With a wave of his hand, vampires went flying around her head, their bodies smashing against the ancient stone pillars, their cries of anguish rising up through the air.

  Zakara laughed heartily. "That is the consort I remember," she turned to the others. "Get him!"

  Liz watched in horror as Zakara's minions rose up and flew all around her, becoming streaks of black as they charged. Zakara herself stood back and watched Raphael and the others battle, her evil laughter rising high in the air. Please let him live, she prayed silently, because I don't want to live without him.

  Without warning, some of Zakara's minions started bursting into flames, turning to dust with no explanation at all. Zakara's face turned from one of mirth to abject horror as her precious children crumpled to dust before her.

  "What have you done?" she cried, rushing over to Raphael.

  "I warned you, Zakara," he growled as he picked her up by the neck and held her off the ground. "You took what was mine once. I will not let you take her again."

  She writhed in his grasp, guttural growls escaping her throat. "You learned from my grimoire, didn't you? No one knows how to do that except me."

  "I learned all of your tricks from that grimoire, including your sun spell. Since you are no longer in power, there is nothing left for you."

  Just as those words escaped his throat, Zakara laughed one more evil laugh and twisted in his grip, turning to smoke. Wisps rose up through the opening of the cavern, her laughter a dying echo of the cave.

  "We have to find her," Nick murmured as he watched the last of the smoke disappear through the opening, "and destroy her."

  "She'll live to fight another day," he said slowly. "What's important is that I have my Elizabeth back."

  Raphael rushed to her side, smothering her face with kisses. "Oh, my darling, they didn't hurt you, did they?"

  She looked at him weakly. "A little," she stared at her arms. "Look."

  Thunderous anger crossed his handsome features as he stared at the wounds. "My God, Elizabeth!"

  "I'll heal, Raphael. The important thing is that you're still alive and well."

  His stare was intense and serious. "Zakara is gone, Elizabeth, and could strike you again at any given moment. I have to protect you and give you all the abilities to survive her attacks. Do you know what that means?"

  "Free my hands," she begged. He snapped his fingers and the chains broke, falling to the floor with a clank. Since her hands were unbound, she gripped his face between them. "I know what it means, Raphael."

  "Are you willing to walk with me through eternity and be my loving wife?"

  She nodded without hesitation. Raphael was the only man for her and she knew that she would never find another man like him. "Yes, I will."

  Raphael's lips spread into a wide, loving smile. "I'll make it as painless as possible."

  "I know you will."

  Liz turned her head so that Raphael could get better access to the artery in her neck.

  Instantly, his lips grazed her throat, igniting all the sexual flames within her. Gently, he nipped here and there, trying to get her mind off of what he was about to do. She held her breath, signaling she was ready. Taking his cue, Raphael sank his teeth into her neck, and she felt the dull pain. Her heartbeat quickened, all the better to pump her blood inside of him.

  He sucked her throat hard and drew her blood into him. Dizziness set in immediately, her breathing becoming shallow. Strangely, she found this act completely erotic, the sudden rush of orgasm surging through her body.

  Raphael pulled away, his mouth and chin covered in her blood. "Your heart is getting ready to stop," he said as he folded back the leather on his wrist. "I've got to give you what you need to save your life." He sank his teeth into his wrist, opening up a gaping wound. Blood poured from it, running down his arm. He slipped it to her mouth. "Drink."

  The blood tasted salty at first. Her hunger made her develop a rabid taste for it. She sucked from him, her hands wrapping around his arm. Greedily, she kept drinking.

  "Enough!" he cried, jerking his limb away from her.

  Immediately, she felt as though someone had punched her in the belly and every cell in her body was withdrawing from a drug. She jerked around, writhing on the stone slab.

  Raphael's hand on her forehead did little to calm the pain. "Your body is dying its mortal death, my beloved. It will all be over in a few moments and you will be reborn."

  Her heartbeat slowed even more, her breathing becoming harder and harder. Is this what death was really like?

  Beat. Beat. Beat.

  Liz's heart stopped completely. She lay there for a moment, unable to hear or see anything. Time seemed to stand still; the coldness of the air crept into her bones, making them slightly stiff. She felt the others still around her, watching and waiting.

  "Ugh!" she cried as she took her first breath.

  "My beloved," Raphael murmured in her ear. "You've come back to me."

  She rose up from the table and stared around her. Everything seemed so new, so bright. Her vision was restored to better than what it would have been had she not needed glasses. "Why do I feel so strange?" she questioned as she sat there, looking around.

  "Because you are one of us," Raphael offered. "Look at your hands."

  She looked down to see the prettiest hands she'd ever seen. The fingers were long and tapered with sculpted nails, unlike her short stubby fingers. Instead of a non-descript skin color, her flesh was creamy with a rosy tint. "Is this me?"

  "For all eternity," Raphael whispered as he lifted her off the table and into his arms. "Since this is your first night as a vampire, I thought we'd do something very special."

  "Like what?"

  "Make love all night long," he said into her ear.

  "I think I can handle that," she replied as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "There's one problem. I'm still bleeding from the miscarriage."

  "No, not anymore," he said. "You're no longer human."

  She remained silent for a moment, his words sinking in. Not being human meant no more periods, which for her was a godsend because she'd always had horrible ones. That also meant no possibility of children. She laid her head against his shoulder. "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore," Liz looked up into Raphael's deep emerald eyes, finding the strength there she needed. "I have a question."

  "What is that?"

  "How are we getting home?"

  The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a sensual motion. "Don't you know? Vampires can fly."

  * * * *

  Fingers of orange spread out into the deepening sky as the sun sank low behind the horizon. Sea-tinted air swept around them as they stood on the cliffs overlooking t
he ocean, watching the sun-dappled waters drift lazily by.

  "I'm going to miss this," she sighed against his chest. "I've always loved sunsets."

  "I will as well. It's better to start traveling by night. Zakara more than likely went back to Egypt to search her grimoire for an antidote for the sun spell," he said quietly, his arms tightening around her.

  "Do you think she would?"

  "Without a doubt."

  Strange questions began to fill her head. "What are you going to do with the Jag?"

  "I had it shipped over to Europe yesterday. As for your car…."

  She hugged him tighter. "I've already rented my house and car to someone on campus. They'll take good care of them until I get back."

  "You don't need those things, you know."

  "Just like you don't need the Jag," she chided softly.

  He laughed quietly. "Okay, you got me there." Raphael let out a resigned sigh. "Do you regret anything?"

  She looked up into his loving eyes. "Not one thing." Liz looked out at the beach one last time, watching the surf come in to kiss the balmy white sand. "Are you ready?"

  "I've never been more ready in my life."

  * * * *

  Her tongue ran over the tips of her fangs, drawing beads of blood as she watched Elizabeth and Raphael on the edge of the cliff, rising high in the air as they took off and headed for Europe.

  Zakara's nails dug hard into the tree she held onto, bits of bark falling to the ground at her feet. If Raphael thought he could best her by turning that fat toad into a vampire, he'd better think again. She wasn't finished yet, not by a long shot. In fact, she'd barely begun.

  Her lips curled into a tight smile as the black shapes disappeared against the brilliance of the setting sun. She would let them have a short time together, let them get comfortable and let their guard down. When the time was right, she would move in for the kill.

  "You make me proud, my daughter," Father echoed behind her, the intense heat from his body almost blistering her skin.

  She turned to see Father standing there, in all his hellish glory. "That's all I've ever wanted to do," she confessed. "It seems I've failed."

 

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