Deliver Me from Darkness: A Novel of the Paladin Warriors

by Tes Hilaire

  Must have heard her wrong, he thought she’d said it felt go—

  A wave of pleasure slammed into him from their newly formed bond. Oh God. Oh shit! He couldn’t take that. He sunk back into her. This time her body allowed it, even welcomed it.

  “Oh my God, Roland!” Her eyes went wide. One, two more strokes and he was fully inside her, and her head was tipping back as she made a guttural moan in the back of her throat.

  She was so close. Her channel rippling around him. Her heartbeat quickening. Veins pulsing.

  Damn. Don’t think of that.

  The need to come, the need to strike, drink, claim was an addict’s pull throbbing with each breath he drew, each gulping swallow of her scent.

  Mine!

  He sucked in one last breath, then did the only thing he could do. Held it. He was going to do this. He was going to make her come. He was going to be inside of her when she shattered. He was going to be what she needed. Partners. Mates. In bed and out of it. He had to do this—without losing control, without biting her.

  She screamed, thrusting up to meet him, and started to convulse around him. Thank God. He let his pent up breath out, ready to leap off her and run before he could lose his last thread of control. The next instant the backlash of her orgasm hit him like a freight train over their link. There was nothing he could do. He came.

  ***

  Roland fingered the mahogany curls spread over his chest. Karissa was draped over him, head on his shoulder as he valiantly kept his head turned away. He couldn’t resist the little bit of extra contact though. He loved her hair. So soft. Silky.

  He still had the urge to drink from her, but it was fading. He hadn’t bitten her. Bitten his own arm, yes, but at least it wasn’t her tender skin and frankly, he’d gnaw himself to the bone if it meant he could have a repeat of the experience.

  “Hmm.” Her breasts rumbled against his chest. “Maybe I should buy you some chain mail. That way you won’t hurt yourself.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny.” However, her jest, more than anything else, took the edge off his hunger. He turned his face toward her and met her brilliant smile. She was smiling, at him. And not just because he’d knocked her socks off, so to speak, but because, for her, he’d done something he was scared to do.

  Her pride in him was both ego inflating and embarrassing. And all of a sudden he understood what his father meant when he talked about the bond between Paladin mates being a double-edged sword.

  Her brow furrowed, forming an adorable crease across the bridge of her nose. “What was that you did? You know, the words you spoke before. It wasn’t the same as the marking ceremony Logan and Valin tried to use.”

  “No. It was the bonding ceremony.” And it should have been done in Haven’s Hall. Not in some grimy cabin in the woods with both Ganelon’s army and the entire Paladin regiment searching for her and ready to rip her away from him.

  “And the equivalent to the rest of us laypeople would be?”

  He refocused on her, feeling the nervous tension in her question. “There is no equivalent. Nothing can come close to the binding of a Paladin to his mate.”

  The crease got bigger. She nibbled her bottom lip. “Can I assume that we’re like, um, married now? In a sense, that is, not that I’m trying to force you into—”

  He shut her up with a kiss. She was so damn cute when she was flustered. When they broke apart he said, “You are mine, and I am yours. Forever. It’s as simple and as profound as that.”

  “Good. That’s good.” She smiled, snuggling in tight. Moments later her breath had evened out into a light sleep.

  He felt a bit of guilt promising her forever. The truth was he would always be hers. Even after she passed and he continued to live his horrible, immortal existence alone. It would be her, and the memories he had of whatever time they were allowed that he would use to keep from going insane, to stay true to the path of morality she would want him to walk. But when all was said and done, she would eventually move on without him. She may have pledged her heart, body, and soul in this moment, this life, but without a soul of his own to truly bind them together, she would eventually move on. God would not condemn one of his children to live eternity alone. Someday, somewhere, either up in heaven or in another life, there would be another man, another mate, for his Karissa. Roland just hoped to hell that when it happened he wouldn’t know. Because God help the man who took her from him.

  Chapter 20

  The birds were singing, and so was Karissa’s heart. Last night could not have been more perfect, filled with alternate bouts of erotic sex, then languid lovemaking that was only punctuated with short bursts of sleep when pure exhaustion took over. And waking now with the heat of her lover, her mate, pressed up against her back was like waking to heaven on earth.

  The past twelve hours had been a dream. But like all dreams, eventually one woke up as reality reinserted itself. In this case reality was her stomach, which was currently rumbling loud enough to drown out the faint birdsong that seeped through the thick walls of the cabin. As much as she hated it, she was going to have to get up and get some food.

  Carefully, she took the heavy arm draped across her middle and tried to lift it over her back to return it to its owner. The arm tightened, and rather than allow her to escape, it pulled her closer. It became obvious right away that Roland hadn’t been asleep. His erection was a thick length of iron against the crease of her buttocks.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The words rumbled from low in Roland’s chest. He slid his hand farther down her belly and then concurrently ground his hips into her ass as he rubbed the tender flesh between her thighs.

  Maybe breakfast could wait. Karissa arched her back to increase the sensations, but again her stomach had other ideas, giving off another loud rumble that overpowered the needy moan.

  “Guess that answers that.” Roland chuckled, removing the hand that was doing the most delicious things to her. “And no you can’t wait. I can feel the hungry beast gnawing through your spine. Come on,” he added with a pat on her ass as he shifted off the bed.

  She sat up, twisting around and pulling her legs under her as she watched Roland gather up the discarded clothes. Even in the dim light cast from the bedside lamp, his eyes were black as night, no telltale embers. Nor did she feel any burning need to feed through their link. Of course, her own “monster” hunger was such that it might just be overriding his. “Do you, uh, need to feed?”

  “No. But I can help you whip something up and sit with you.”

  She nibbled on her lip, her desire to be with him warring with her desire to have a short reprieve.

  Roland stilled in the act of pulling on his pants, his body going impossibly still.

  “What?”

  “If you want a break from me, all you have to do is ask.”

  “From you?” Oh crap. He’d gotten another dollop of her thoughts, though only her surface thoughts, otherwise he would not have jumped to such an off-base conclusion. She vehemently shook her head. “I don’t want a break, at least not from you. It’s just that…”

  She broke off, suddenly realizing, to her horror, that what she wanted could seem like a rejection.

  “It’s just what?” He sat down on the bed, his face shuttered, as if expecting her to fist her hand up and strike him in the gut.

  She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I, uh, wanted to do it on my own. Make breakfast, that is. It’s one of my routines, to make breakfast early in the morning when the birds are singing and the sun is coming up…”

  She looked away, unable to watch the tensing of the muscle along his jaw. How could something as simple as a desire to watch the sunrise be such a hurtful thing? But it was. There was no denying the deep ache flowing through their bond.

  She shifted, the sheets whispering. “I’m sorry. It’s stupid and I don’t need—”

  His hand touched the bottom of her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. “It’s all right, Karissa. You shoul
dn’t have to deny yourself one of life’s simple pleasures because of me. I wouldn’t want that. And you’d come to resent me if I did.”

  “No I wouldn’t. I can live—”

  “Don’t. Don’t lie to yourself and don’t lie to me.”

  She dashed away a tear. It was no longer just her stomach tearing around behind her ribs. “I hate that I can hurt you like this.”

  “I’m harder to hurt than that.”

  “Now who’s lying?”

  Silence stretched out between them, then eventually he sighed, dropping his hand. “You’re right. It hurts. I want to be there with you. But what would hurt more is if you were to deny yourself something that is vital to you because of me.”

  She gave him a doubtful look.

  “Karissa, you are my light. You practically shine with it. If you were to deny yourself the sun, I know you would glow a bit dimmer, and I won’t have that for the world.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “Go. I’ll be here when you’re done soaking up your rays.”

  He reached down, scooping up her panties along with his T-shirt from the floor and offered them both to her. She took them and pulled the shirt over her head, then stood up to shimmy into her panties. Roland watched her the whole time, his hunger a craving that licked at her senses.

  “Okay. But I’ll hurry.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Stay in the cabin, that’s all I ask.”

  “I’ll hurry because…” She leaned over, kissing him with a passion fired by the memories of their numerous lovemaking sessions throughout the night. She finally broke away and had Roland growling in objection. “…I never was good at waiting for dessert.”

  “I suggest that if you’re going to go, you go now…” His eyes raked her over, stuttering over her breasts that she knew were swollen and peaked with desire and the hemline of his shirt that barely covered her ass. “…because I was never good at waiting for dessert either.”

  He made a play dive for her. Laughing, Karissa skipped out of his reach and exited the room. On the other side she stopped, leaning against the rough pine as she concentrated on evening out both her heart rate and her emotions. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying. Have to stop this. Distance had muffled the intimate sense of him being in her mind, but she could still feel his ache.

  More composed, she made her way into the small kitchen. They hadn’t had the time or inclination to stop for food supplies, but Roland had said there would be some staples where he was bringing her. The staples turned out to be an interesting mix of canned and boxed foods and nothing that appealed to her for breakfast. She did find coffee, though, along with a percolator, and set it to brewing. The sun wasn’t out yet, or at least if it was it was hiding behind a thick bank of clouds.

  So much for her sunrise.

  She pulled out a box of granola bars, snagging out a Nutty-nut Trail, and tore off a bite with her teeth. The food clawed at her esophagus the whole way down, but once it reached her stomach it was welcomed with open arms. When she was done, she turned her attention to the cupboards again, this time searching for powdered creamer and sugar. She’d found the sugar and was pulling a mug down when she noticed that something was different, something off, not right. Her hand dropped back to her side. She tilted her head, listening. Nothing. Uneasy, but not yet alarmed, she reached for Roland and discovered what the “off” thing was. Roland had drifted off, his thoughts so deep in his subconscious that she couldn’t sense them without reaching for him.

  Huh. This bond thing was going to take some getting used to. It was deeper than anything she’d ever experienced before. In comparison, her ability to sense someone’s intent through touch seemed like a baby’s first gibbering attempt at true language. Even now, as she pulled back from the dreamlike ebb and flow of his sleep-thoughts, she felt more of a connection with him than any other person she’d ever tried to read. Or ever loved.

  “I love Roland.” She tried the words out, letting them settle into her conscious. What was between them had happened so fast that she hadn’t really thought of it in those terms yet. He was Roland. Her mate. The other half of her soul—or at least the man who was made for her soul. Love was a happy bonus. She did love him too. The way he would tenderly caress the hair back from her cheek, the way his eyes glowed like deep embers when he looked at her with longing, the way he would give anything of himself if it meant keeping her safe, keeping her happy.

  She both loved and resented the bond. It made it so his happiness was directly linked to hers and vice versa. And because of that her little morning ritual would never hold the same sort of peace for her. But he was right. She did need the sun. For her it meant warmth, safety, joy.

  She poured her coffee, adding a heap of sugar, and moved over to the back door. There was a small deck but she’d promised Roland she wouldn’t leave. Instead she opened the door wide, letting the crisp morning air greet her.

  Nope. Definitely not going to get her sunrise. At least not for a while. The fog here was dense and would take hours to burn off. Some people might find the soft haze on the world, the feeling of isolation, to be peaceful. Not Karissa. She was a city girl, and to her the shifting mist created an eerie landscape for dangers to hide in.

  Something shifted in the fog. She straightened, squinted her eyes. Some animal or something. But whatever it was moved toward the cabin, its movements purposeful but staggering.

  Karissa started to step back into the safety of the cabin, her hand on the door, when a glimpse of red hair stopped her. She took a step forward to get a better look and the figure popped out of the worst of the fog.

  The alley. The girl who’d tried to warn them. She was hobbling, and half her face looked beaten. Not beaten but burned; in fact, the blisters were still spreading. Because she’s a vampire. And if she didn’t get out of the light soon she was going to die.

  Karissa scrambled across the small deck and down the two steps to the ground, running forward.

  The girl threw out her arm, her face contorting past the pain of her injuries. “Why did you come out?…warn Roland.” She mumbled something else incoherent. Hurt ear?

  Karissa ignored the hand meant to fend her off, wrapping her arm around her. The girl had come to warn Roland. She was not the enemy, though it was obvious she had knowledge of the enemy and was willing to risk everything to try and help them. “We need to get you inside.”

  The girl groaned under her touch but gave way to her shaking limbs and fell into Karissa’s side. Karissa tried to shield her as much as possible from the natural light of day. Cloud cover or not, this slip of a girl was burning to death…slowly.

  Urgency nipped at their heels. Though only a hundred feet or so, the cabin seemed miles away. She couldn’t jump unless she abandoned the girl. Roland had survived the light there, but his reaction to the little adventure told her all she needed to know. It wasn’t safe there for a vampire. If this girl still had ties to the enemy, then she doubted this girl was as strong as Roland.

  “Leave me,” the girl gasped. “Tell Roland.”

  “Tell Roland what?”

  The girl stiffened, moaning out her despair. Her words finally registered. They’re here.

  It was a trap.

  Karissa’s gut clenched. She twisted her head around, looking for the threat. Somewhere there rose the sound of laughter.

  Oh God.

  Roland! Help me!

  ***

  His body was on fire. Nothing mattered except the acid burning through his veins, the sizzling poison filling his muscles and organs, the blistering disease that boiled up from under his skin.

  He writhed on the floor, twisting and convulsing as agony took over his body, held prisoner his breath, stole his very life. It was in the moment of his death that the pain shattered, falling away as if it had merely been some sort of shawl enshrouding him. Then laughter.

  He pried open his eyelids, turning his head on the hard marble. A man, tall and GQ handsome, leaned against the sc
alloped post at the end of the banister. Laughing, clapping.

  “Good performance.” He pushed off the post, striding like a monarch through his court across the large foyer. “Now, Paladin, I have a show for you.”

  The man’s lips curled back, revealing fangs. Roland’s eyes narrowed. If he had any energy left he’d leap up and cut that superior smile off the vampire’s face. Just had to get his knife from the sheath on his thigh and…

  A woman screamed. Roland’s head snapped up. Down the hall, half dragged, half carried by two other vampires was, fuck no, his sister.

  “Angeline!” He tried to push up, made it halfway before something brutal and suffocating clamped down on his will. For long seconds he fought for control before crashing back down onto the hard floor to lie there, gasping.

  “Roland. What have they done to you?” His sister was sobbing, tears streaming down her face to land with large splats upon her distended belly.

  Done? Other than tried to kill him? He’d gone there to warn them. His vision. The blood. He’d arrived and…

  It was all a blank fog after that. What happened between then and his waking to agony? He didn’t know. Didn’t matter. He had to save his sister. He would not allow her to die like she had in his vision.

  He reached for his knife but again was met with the searing agony of something, or someone, snuffing out his will.

  “Nuh-uh-uh.” The GQ vampire crouched down in front of him, waving his index finger back and forth.

  “What…” he gasped, unable to continue speaking past his raw throat. He licked his lips, tried to swallow. His tongue, swollen, scraped across something sharp in his mouth. Tentatively he thrust his tongue out again. A line of blood welled on the thick muscle, dripping down his parched throat. The taste of the sweet coppery liquid had his heart racing, his body clenching in need. Alarmed, he looked up toward his sister. Only it wasn’t his sister. It was Karissa. Their eyes latched for but a moment before she turned her face away, unable to even meet his gaze.