Momentarily stunned, Garran stood there. Another demon came up behind him and attacked him, slicing his arm nearly to the bone. Garran stumbled back. He tried to make sense of what was happening. There had been no women or children in the barn, but these...fiends. Alexander had led them to this slaughter, but why? His gaze landed on the wee bastard, who stood to the side with a woman, watching as if he enjoyed the debauchery.
These fiends weren't fighting men, but something of nightmares. If stabbed, they bled, but healed almost immediately. They came at them again, all except the one. Then it dawned on him why. "Cut off their heads," he shouted as a demon spiraled through the air toward him, spitting and hissing. Two of his teeth were elongated, like fangs drawn to strike. Garran swung his sword, hitting his mark. Blood spurted out of the demon like a spray of red before the body aged before his eyes, until nothing but dust was left in its wake.
Though he and his men had gained some ground, it was useless. There were too many of them and they were bone weary from hunger and lack of a decent night's sleep.
In the end, he and Rory were the only ones standing. All the other men who had followed him were dead. The woman shouted her order to bring them to her. The monsters that were left did her bidding, forcing Rory and him to kneel before her as if they were to give her homage.
She circled around them. Her long skirts hid her feet and gave the illusion she floated above the ground. After what he witnessed, he would not be surprised if it were true. Her steps halted in front of Garran. He recoiled from her touch, but this only made her laugh. "So brave, and to the bitter end, too."
Rory's body trembled either from fear or from the deep gash across his chest. Perhaps it was a little of both. Even Garran was not immune to fear.
Garran met the woman's gaze. She was tall as a warrior. Her stance told him she could hold her own in a fight and most likely win. Her hair was dark like a moonless night, ramrod straight and sleek, making it appear like silk as it waved in the wind. Her skin was white and smooth and her eyes were a light blue, a shade he had never seen on any living human being. She was a vision of beauty, but death followed her and he had seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime.
This beautiful creature stared at him, her gaze traveling over his features as if she were still debating his fate.
"What are ye?" Garran breathed the question, his voice raw with emotion.
Her laughter rang in his ears. "Yer salvation. Ye are both so brave and strong."
She glanced at Rory whose curses had turned to prayer. God had forsaken them thus far. Garran did not put faith in Him coming to save them now.
"I could use ye both in my army," the woman said, seeming to give them a choice, but Garran knew there would be no options save her way or death.
"May the Lord protect us," Rory's voice grew louder, which infuriated the woman. She lashed out, striking Rory across the face.
"I offer ye a chance for everlastin' life and ye pray to yer God."
"Ye are a demon," Rory spat.
She eyed him for a long moment before her lips curved. Her eyes glowed red and her eyeteeth lengthened to fine points. Her movements were a blur as she lunged for Rory, driving her fangs into his throat.
"No!" Garran made a move to stop her, but two of her minions held him back, their grip unyielding.
Rory fought, clawing at her face, but she proved too strong. Soon Rory ceased to move at all. She released him then, letting him fall to the ground. Blood covered her lips and teeth, her eyes glowing a deeper red. She sliced her wrist with her fingernail. Then kneeling beside Rory, she cradled his head as if he were her lover. She let droplets of the red liquid drip into his parted lips, which had already turned blue-gray with death.
Garran thought her mad. She murdered him. What could she expect from feeding him her blood?
But then, the unbelievable happened. Rory's lips moved.
Garran watched in horror as Rory grabbed hold of the woman's arm and bit down on her, suckling blood as if he were a babe at his mother's breast.
"Enough, ye fool, ye'll drain me dry." She shoved Rory away and stood. Garran stared at her and then to his childhood friend. Rory lived, but it wasn't the kind-hearted soul who peered back at him. Rory lunged toward Garran hissing and spitting like a rabid animal. Garran knocked him to the ground before the woman pulled his friend back, as if he weighed no more than a small lad.
"No, my pet. Not this one. There will be others for ye, but this one is to join us."
"I need…" Rory blinked, shaking his head. Confusion clouded his words, but the fog lifted and a part of his sanity had returned. "I do no' know what it is I want, but there is a hunger so strong, gnawing at my insides." Rory met Garran's gaze with longing. "I hear his heart beatin' like a drum inside my head." He covered his ears with his hands as if trying to drown out the sound.
The woman placed her hand on his head, petting him like a puppy. "There, there my sweet. We shall make it stop."
Her gaze landed on Garran and he swallowed back the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. He had no intentions of becoming a sniveling dog at her feet. He threw his weight into the minion who held him in check, knocking him off balance. He took off at a full run, intent on making it over the ridge.
Only a few more steps and he'd have a chance of losing them within the shadows and brush, but before he could take another step, the minion plowed into him, bringing him down. Bigger and stronger than any human Garran had ever faced, the demon's fist plowed into his face, beating him until his ears rang. The demon then dragged him back by his arms, not caring how the rocks and bramble sliced through his skin on the way. The minion threw him at the she-devil's feet.
She grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look up at her as she bared his throat. With her fingernail, she caressed his exposed flesh.
"What are ye?" Garran rasped out, but for the moment, she ignored his question.
"Ye are a strong one, my pet. Ye are afraid. I can smell it, but I know ye will fight me to yer last breath. I like that. It excites me." She closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure, a sound Garran only heard when coupling. Yet this woman could conjure ecstasy from a scent. Her eyes snapped open and her light soulless eyes stared at him. "Ye want to know what I am? I am a Bobhan Sith or as some humans call us, Vampyre."
His eyes widen in disbelief. He knew of the legends and the warnings his father gave him. "Nay." He shook his head. "It is no' possible. The Bobhan Sith is a monster for stories to scare the young lads from wanderin' too far from the keep."
Her wicked laughter made his skin crawl. "So, ye have heard of my kind?"
"I will no' submit to ye."
"Oh, but the beauty of it is, ye will." Her hand held him still, her strength that of ten warriors. She took his throat, piercing through the flesh. He beat at her, trying to pry her loose, but it was as if she were made of steel. He could feel his life ebbing away. Pain and a sick feeling of euphoria overpowered him as he listened to her slurp. His hand fell away, paralyzed. He was dying and with death, she would bring him back as a monster like her. He prayed she would drain him dry, so his soul would be released.
He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sound of gulping. Would it never end? Then, he realized in horror it was he who drank greedily. Repulsed, but unable to stop himself, he held onto her wrist and took nourishment. "Enough." She yanked her arm away and he lurched forward. She chuckled as she knelt down in front of him, cupping his chin while forcing him to look at her. "See, my pet, ye are already mine."
Disgusted by her touch, he pulled away. "Never," but he already knew she had spun her evil web around him and he was caught. "Damn ye to hell, demon."
A smile slowly spread across her face. "We are both damned, but ye'll still need to make yer first kill for the transformation to be complete." She patted his cheek. "Later, my pet." She then turned away from him and looked to Alexander. "Ye did well."
"My liege." He knelt before her. His head bowed in homage. Garr
an thought he would be ill. He wanted to hate Alexander for leading them to their death, but how could he fault him when he too was infected with this she-demon's blood. Already Garran felt the rage and hunger changing who he once had been, but then he realized the full impact of the betrayal when Alexander spoke again.
"I did as ye asked and ye promised me ye would finish the task ye started and make me immortal as ye are," Alexander pleaded.
Alexander remained human. Yet he led his own kin to the slaughter.
"So I did," she said, already tilting his head back to give him her lethal bite.
Alexander, with his angelic face, had fooled them all. He betrayed them, his own clan. In Garran's eyes, he was worse than the she-demon.
Garran didn't know what he was about to do until the sword, laying only a few feet away from him, was in his hand. The uncontrollable rage that built inside him exploded with a volcanic force. The MacLaurin war cry left his lips as he swung. He would have taken off both their heads, if one of the Bobhan Sith's guards hadn't seen his intent. His strike fell short, slicing down the length of her. She pulled free of Alexander, pushing him away from her. Her roar of pain shook the ground beneath them. Garran didn't wait to find out what a wounded Bobhan Sith—vampyre, or whatever the hell she wanted to be called, would do. He ran for the nearest mount, pulling off its rider. He was amazed at his own strength. Already his wounds healed and he felt stronger—invincible.
He spotted Rory with a sword in his hand, warding off an advancing minion. Garran turned the horse toward him. It leaped and bucked trying to be rid it of its rider, but Garran slammed his thighs into the horse's flanks, steadying him. "Rory, grab hold," he ordered, offering his hand. His friend gripped his forearm. Garran swung him up and behind him.
They galloped away thinking they'd escaped, but in reality, it had been a death sentence. The she-demon knew they wouldn't survive without her guidance. They were no longer human and had no idea what it meant to be one of the undead.
Buzz...buzzzzzz….
Garran awoke with a start. His doorbell kept ringing as if the person on the other side of the door took great pleasure in annoying him. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. He dreamt of the dreadful night he'd been changed, again. He knew it wouldn't be the last time the nightmare resurfaced, but it still unnerved him even centuries later.
He slipped on his jeans and made his way downstairs. Ten more times his doorbell gonged. "I'll wring the bloody eejit's neck." Whoever it was that found playing with his doorbell an amusement.
He looked at his video monitor attached to the wall by his door and cursed as he stared at the smiling face looking back at him.
He threw open the door. "Are ye lost, Miss Lucci?"
Chapter Forty-One
Isabella's mouth dropped opened. She knew Garran slept during the day, but she hadn't expected him to look like he just rolled out of bed when the sun had set over an hour ago. He stood there in faded blue jeans unbuttoned and riding low on his hips. He was both shoeless and shirtless, giving her a generous view of his upper body. His broad chest, beneath his crossed arms, was mapped with faded scars, but it didn't take away from his masculine beauty in the least. If anything it enhanced it, telling the tale of his heroic past.
She had dreamt of him last night or rather early this morning, right before she rose to take a shower and start her day. She witnessed how Garran had been made a Grim Sith. How he tried to defend the men that were with him. Alexander had betrayed him and the other men, leading them to their deaths. She hadn't realized with the blood bond, she would also be linked to Garran's thoughts and dreams.
"Well?" His voice held a note of impatience and she realized she'd been staring.
"We need to talk." She pushed her way in, using her workout bag she had slung over her shoulder for extra leverage. She would not allow him to send her away. If the disgruntled look he gave her was any indication, he was about to do just that.
"Do come in, Miss Lucci." Sarcasm laced his words, but he closed the door and faced her, crossing his arms across his chest once more.
Her eyes met his well-defined pecs, her gaze lingering there a moment before she met his eyes. Concentration would prove difficult with him dressed… well, barely dressed.
"Do ye mind tellin' me how ye knew where I resided?"
"Huh?" It took a second for his question to register. "Oh, that." She waved a hand in dismissal at him. "Harrison dropped me off. He said he'd be by later."
Garran murmured under his breath something about having a word with Harrison on the matter of privacy. To her, he voiced, "So what is so important that ye couldn't wait for me to come to yer place? I haven't even showered yet."
He'd been sleeping? Her gaze slid over him again and realized it would explain his lack of clothing. "Sorry about that, but I've been distracted by a dream… a nightmare really."
His arms came apart and concern entered his expression. "I did no' detect Alexander tryin' to communicate with ye."
"He hasn't." She met his gaze. "I dreamt about… you."
"Me?" He looked at her in disbelief.
"Yes, right before I woke up... There were flashes of you… You know before you were made and… after. It's like an imprint of a memory from you. At least, I believe it's your memories or else I have suddenly been blessed with an overactive imagination."
"What have ye seen?" He looked like he wanted to refute her claim of seeing his past, but he soon was sorely disappointed as she retold the events of his life in vivid clarity.
He ran a hand through his hair, making the light strands even more unruly, but rather than take away from his masculine appeal, it seemed to enhance it. The roll-out-of-bed look worked well for him, but she supposed almost any guise would.
He turned his gaze on her. Those intense gray eyes bore into her like shards of glass as if he now wanted to gain access to her thoughts. "It would appear our bond is assuredly a deep connection." His lips pressed together in a fine line.
Apparently, he didn't like the prospect of her being privy to his thoughts.
"Fair is fair," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "If you can invade my mind, I should have access to your deep dark secrets, too."
He looked physically horrified at the concept, making her wonder what he had to hide. "Don't worry, I can be covert."
"Ye may no' like what ye see, Miss Lucci." Now it was his turn to sigh. He didn't say the words, but it was almost as if he had apologized to her. "The bond should no' have been so precise," he said. "It was only meant for me to sense yer distress."
"You mean others you've bonded with didn't link with you in this way?"
"No." He moved away from the front door and headed down the hall. She assumed he wanted her to follow. She slung her workout bag behind her and did so.
They entered the kitchen with its pristine order of cleanliness. He most likely rarely prepared food—if he cooked at all. He opened the stainless steel refrigerator, which matched the décor of the rest of the room. He took out a container filled with a red liquid. Garran only paused when he caught her staring at it.
"Ye are aware of my diet, aye?"
"Of course. Indulge." She waved her hand at him.
He snorted as he removed the top. He placed the bottle in the microwave.
She put her workout bag down on the kitchen nook and pulled out a chair to sit down and wait, while he had his dinner or rather his breakfast.
Once he took a sip of the blood—heated to whatever temperature he preferred—he looked at her. "It would seem yer talents are many. I was no' aware a Necromancer could mind-link through dreams."
"Well, don't look at me. I was never properly trained, but maybe it is not so much that I'm a Necromancer, but that I've died, too. The dream plane is just another dimension to cross. That much I do know. I've been in the veil, like you have. You linking your blood with me only made it easier to connect." She came here seeking answers, but it appeared Garran didn't know what to make of their connec
tion either.
"Perhaps," he agreed, but she sensed he wasn't completely convinced.
"Since you know what I witnessed…" Her words caught his interest. Whatever he'd been contemplating took a back seat now. He focused all his attention on her. "I'll just get to the point of my visit," she hurried to say before she lost the nerve.
His brows rose and his stance became rigid as if he dreaded her request.
"I need you to train me to defend myself against…" She looked away, wondering how to say this without offending Garran.
It seemed she didn't have to. "…Against demons like me," he finished for her.
"Yes – I mean no." She cleared her throat. "Dang." She let her gaze slide to meet his narrowed, Scottish-slanted eyes. "I thought we could work out."
His lips tilted and she felt the heat in her cheeks, knowing full well where his mind had gone with that statement. She couldn't blame him with the way she'd been ogling him. This meeting wasn't at all how she thought it would play out. "Self-defense," she clarified. "I thought you could show me how to defend myself against a monster like Alexander. You know a Grim Sith... I mean the Soul Taker." She couldn't believe she just said monster. "I don't mean you're a monster. You know you being a vampire… and all…" she trailed off to silence. She wished she could slink away and pretend she never rang the doorbell.
The tic at the side of Garran's jaw led her to believe he didn't care for her statement, but he refrained from saying so. He placed his cup down on the counter. His gaze never left her face as he strode over to her.
She scrambled to her feet. "You're not going to bite me again or anything, are you?" She joked, but the thought fleetingly crossed her mind. She let out a nervous chuckle.
Soul Taker Page 18
