by A C Warneke
“We have time to worry about that later.”
“What about my… what about Gus?” She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “He was never given the choice; he has been locked up and used as a stud.”
“He gets to make love to beautiful women all day long and when he is not making love he is being pampered. Why would he complain?”
She let out a stony laugh, knowing that her father had lived four hundred and fifty years without a cage; she could imagine he would have plenty to complain about. Not to mention the children he would be siring, children that would be kept from him. Sinking further into Feryn’s embrace, she closed her eyes. “Promise me that you will let him go.”
“Malorie….”
“Promise me.”
“I will see what can be done.”
It was the best she could have hoped for though it was far short of what she wanted. Twisting her face to keep the tears from falling, to keep the anguish from consuming her, she knew her father was going to be livid once he gained his freedom, and she had no doubt that he would find a way. But how would he ever forgive her for getting him into the whole mess?
Silently, she promised her father that she would find a way to free him, if he didn’t find a way first. If it weren’t for Feryn, she would have found a way long before now. As pitiful as it seemed, she simply needed Feryn too much, loved him too much, which was absurd but oddly true.
“Talk to me Feryn.” Her words came out soft, almost inaudible. “Tell me about Aradians and yourself; tell me my choice will be the right one.”
“I will tell you anything you want to know, Malorie.” His words whispered through her, his chest rumbling against her cheek as he spoke. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Anything.”
Chapter 8
Forcing herself to turn around and meet his eyes, desperate for a something to let her know she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life, she asked, “Have you ever created a vampire?”
He was silent for a long while and she knew she wasn’t going to like his answer.
“Yes,” he said, his voice grim. “When I was younger, I… experimented.”
The grimace on his face spoke volumes but she was unable to prevent the disbelieving gasp. Covering her open mouth with her hand, she tried to listen to his words before giving in to panic. “You… experimented? What does that mean?”
“I experimented.… It was a very long time ago, Malorie.” He took her hand in his, his expression troubled. She had to concentrate on keeping her anger but his remorse was almost tangible in its strength. He pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully, “It… it was a rush of power and ecstasy. It was incredible. And in my youth, I created a dozen, maybe more; and I felt indestructible.”
Her brows drew together; was that a lot of vampires? Or hardly any at all? “If it was so amazing, why didn’t you create more than twelve or fifteen?”
He laughed ruefully, “I don’t know; it just felt wrong. The power felt corrupt, unnatural. After a while, I couldn’t bear my own company and I… released my creations.”
When she tilted her head to the side in a silent question, he glanced away, a flush burnishing his skin, “I staked them.”
“That’s horrible!” she gasped, though why she thought it so horrible was strange; she would have staked the bastards in a heartbeat. “First you created them and then you just discarded them when they were no longer wanted?”
“I had them for almost a hundred years,” he replied defensively. “And trust me, it hurt me a hell of a lot more than it hurt them; it took me months to recover.”
The indignation in his voice took her aback; did he want her to praise him for destroying the monsters he had created in the first place? As she opened her mouth to say something, he continued, “And I only had a few for such a short time; imagine the damage an Aradian suffers when he creates a vast army of vampires over a long period of time? If enough of his vampires are eradicated, he can be incapacitated for years.”
Still, she couldn’t reconcile his hatred of vampires with the knowledge that Aradians created them; that he had created vampires. “Why kill them at all if you create them? How are they a threat to Aradians?”
“We cannot afford to have the vile creatures draw attention to things we’d rather keep secret and I have to make the often unpopular decisions to… cull the herd. Aradians who do not comply face severe penalties; most prefer to abide by the law though some lose their way and give in to vamp-madness.” He arched an eyebrow as if she should have known as much. “When there are too many, the vampires become bold, reckless; reveling in their power and infamy.”
“Poaching on your food supply.”
He laughed, “We don’t eat humans, Malorie.”
“You drink their blood.” She tilted her head to the side, running her fingers over the bite marks that had already disappeared, to prove her point.
It was obvious he was fighting a smile, and losing. His lips tilted and he said, “Among other things, it increases sexual potency.”
Malorie felt the heat spread across her cheeks, down her throat, across her breasts. And then the heat sank through her skin and into her belly. Suddenly he was leaning over her, his eyes molten green and burning into her, his breath moving across her face. Blood rushed through her veins and her body softened, melting beneath the heat of his gaze. It was impossible to get enough air and her lips parted as he filled all of her senses.
Her eyes dropped to his lips and she saw the moment he knew he had won that minor skirmish; the corner of his sensual mouth curved upwards in another cruel, mocking smile. She turned her head away, desperate to break the spell he so effortlessly weaved. Her relationship with Jack had been nice and pleasant; she knew that whatever she had with Feryn was going to be tumultuous and demanding. It was a terrifyingly exciting thought. “What do you mean when you say it hurt you more that it hurt them?”
His curled his lip in remembered torment as he began to explain, “When an Aradian creates a vampire, they use a part of their… power to convert a human.”
“But wouldn’t that diminish their power?” Malorie interrupted, at once wondering why he was telling her all of this and eager to learn more. It was the strategist part of her that sought clarification; the more she knew about vampires and those responsible for creating them, the better she would be at fighting back.
“No,” he shook his head. “The vampires… amplify the Aradian power; so the more vampires an Aradian creates….”
“The more power he acquires,” Malorie whispered, with horrible understanding.
“But it is a… tainted power,” Feryn repeated before she could ask why wouldn’t all Aradians create vamps if they gained such power in exchange. “The creation of vampires does something to the Aradian, changes them; numbs and corrupts them. And when a vampire is killed, the power is drained from its creator.”
“When a whole bunch of vamps are killed….”
“The Aradian creator is severely weakened,” he answered, clarifying.
“So when thousands of vampires were killed at the end of the uprising,” she said slowly, her eyes meeting his, excitement bubbling in her stomach. But how could she kill enough vampires to weaken the vampire creators? As soon as she could manage it – if she got the chance – she would track down some of her former soldiers and come up with a contingency plan. One never knew when there might be a vampire uprising and if they could weaken the source, they could win the war. “There were Aradians who suffered greatly; who probably still suffer.”
He nodded grimly, “Yes.”
“Good,” she bit out harshly, her nostrils flaring in just retribution, her thoughts whirling in her head. With enough time, they’d be able to coordinate a massive attack, taking out hundreds of vamps….
He chuckled, the warm sound disrupting her flow of tactical planning and bringing her back to the present and the realization that there probably weren’t enough Blade Soldiers left to pull off
such an attack and that was kind of a depressing thought. “I doubt they would share your sentiment.”
“I don’t care what they think,” she bit out, a fierce scowl emphasizing her conviction. “Because of them and their... lust for power, we lost a lot of good soldiers.” Looking away, her gaze landed on Toby, who looked so much like Jack. Lowering her gaze, she added softly, “I lost my husband.”
“I wish I could say I was sorry but I cannot,” he murmured, softly, candidly. His elegant fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face and she looked up at him from beneath her lashes, needing to draw in her breath at the intent look in his green eyes. Cupping her cheek in his warm hand, he brushed his thumb over her lips, making them tingle in response. “Because if he were still alive, I would still lay claim to you; you know that, correct?”
She shook her head no, unable to stop the telling movement. Just because she wanted to trust him didn’t mean that she could; in the end, after everything was said and done, it might all just be a game to him. He must have seen her doubt for he smiled ruefully and sat back, releasing her from his hold. For now. If he decided he no longer wanted her, she would have no reason to stay.
Her thoughts returned to her son and the other Aradians, Aradians who would not be happy to learn Breeders were not as extinct as they may have liked. Her eyes automatically went to Toby as he lay on the grass, superimposing the image from the Breeder village massacre. There had been no hesitation when the vampires slaughtered the entire village; bodies of all ages had littered the ground. Feeling her heart pick up speed in her chest, she started to stand up, needing to get out of there, needing to protect Toby, to keep him safe. “Are they a threat?”
His hand wrapped around her arm, stopping her from running off. “The Aradians who lost a great many vampires still suffer, Malorie; there’s not much of a threat from any of them.”
She wanted to believe him, but it was difficult. Cold premonition snaked through her skin, freezing her to the bones. They needed to get out of there; escape before she… before she…. Feryn’s hand slid down her arm and captured her hand, holding her in place, “Malorie, relax; I’ll keep you safe.”
Her smiled quavered as she looked at him, “You keep saying that but you brought us here; you exposed us to the rest of your kind. And Toby’s just a little boy; he would make such an easy target.”
“I won’t let anything happen to him,” he vowed solemnly, holding her eyes and not blinking. He was so damned sincere and yet she couldn’t trust him. What if he was lying to her about what he wanted, and she was just a pawn in a game she had no hope of understanding. There was so little she knew about… all of it and despite her best efforts, her years of training, everything was undermined by the connection she had had to him since she was sixteen. It alarmed her. “You have my word, Malorie.”
Her face twisted with dark humor, desperate to hold on to her independence for just a little while longer, willing him to understand her reluctance. “Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know you existed; I thought you were a creation of my subconscious mind trying to make sense of the chaos that surrounded me. I still don’t know if I can trust you, if you’re not just telling me what I need to hear in order for you to get what you want. I don’t know if you’ll discard me when I’ve served my purpose….”
“Never,” he snarled vehemently. Taking her face in his hands, he vowed, “I’m never going to discard you; they could chain me up and I would claw my way free to fight and protect you.”
Her jaw went slack at the passion of his voice, the intensity of his words. As if embarrassed by the strength of his reaction, he sat back and turned away from her before she could even think of a reply, even as she felt something within her shift, as she felt the fear melt away. He spoke without looking at her, “I would do anything to protect you, Malorie; you and your son. You just have to let me.”
Oh, God; did she dare?
Pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees, she looked out across the vast, tropical waters. She never had a chance to escape. Peaking over her shoulder and studying the silent man behind her, she had to ask herself if she had even wanted to escape. There was something about Feryn that was at once familiar and exhilarating, as if she truly were created for him. But that flew against everything she had been taught; she didn’t believe in fate and destiny, not really. She just wanted peace, knowing peace only came when everything else was dead. Or else when she was dead.
But she could have happiness, at least for a little while, if she took a leap of faith….
Licking her lips, she wanted to understand the nature of the Aradians who give in to vampire making. “Are vamp creators more powerful?”
He glanced at her and the corned of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile, “You’re so curious, sweetheart; it’s very peculiar.”
“Why?” she sounded like a two year old to her own ears.
“Breeders didn’t spend a lot of time… talking,” he answered with amusement. “Nothing interested them but pleasuring us. And being pleasured in return, of course.”
Flames licked over Malorie’s skin as she clearly imagined what he meant by his words. Pressing the backs of her cooler fingers against her burning cheeks, she ignored her embarrassment and arched an eyebrow, “Are you not going to answer?”
With an amused look, he let out a long sigh but remained silent. When she continued to simply stare at him, waiting for an answer, he relaxed and nearly blinded her with his smile. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing and pulling the material of his shirt taut. In return, she pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, perversely enjoying the silent battle.
Conceding the battle after a few more moments, Feryn told her, “Initially vamp creators can be more powerful but dedicated Aradians, those who are devoted to the non-vampire path, can accrue incalculable power, Malorie, it just takes longer, a lot longer.
“Vampire creation is so easy, it’s seductive; it… lures the creator into a false sense of… righteousness. He feels invincible, and to some extent he is. But, as with anything that comes too easily, there is a dark side and vampire creators have a very dark side. If they lose their power, they lose everything; whereas an Aradian who chooses the more difficult path loses nothing.” He watched her as if to gauge her reaction. Fascinated, she nodded her head, encouraging him to continue. “It is immeasurably difficult and time consuming and there are no short cuts. All too often it feels as if you are not making any progress at all; and when there is a change, it is accompanied by tremendous pain.
“But with enough power and enough provocation, an untainted Aradian can do great and terrible things.”
“Like what?” she asked in a hushed voice, enthralled in spite of herself.
“Like take out vast numbers of vampires,” he grinned. But the smile faltered and sadness washed over him, enough so that Malorie could feel his agony. He looked out across the ocean but she doubted he was seeing the water and in a voice void of emotion, he breathed, “Thousands if the motivation is powerful enough.”
“How do you know it’s possible?” she asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts but not able to believe something so unbelievable. How could one Aradian, no matter how powerful, destroy thousands of vampires on his own? From his memories, she knew that killing an Aradian destroyed its vampires, but she also knew that killing an Aradian was not allowed.
“I’ve done it,” he said softly, his throat working as he swallowed harshly, his lips curving upwards into a frozen smile. Malorie understood that smile; when the pain was so great, if you didn’t tell the story with a pathetic smile on your face, you would break down and cry and never be able to stop. It was the smile that kept the deepest, most painful, emptions at bay and made it possible to carry on when carrying on was the last thing one wanted to do.
Knowing that smile, she didn’t want to hear any more but she wasn’t going to stop him from speaking, especially if he needed to tal
k about it. Encouraging him without trying to push, she took his hand in hers and whispered, “How?”
“When my son… when my son was taken from me,” he choked out, giving her hand a squeeze and she had to catch her breath at the implication of his words. She hadn’t known…. “He had been working with a group of vampires belonging to Taella….” At her blank look, he added, “One of the Aradians who has a passion for vampires.” At her nod, he continued, “Varick had been working with them for several years, trying to have them show the other vampires that it wasn’t necessary to cause such carnage and destruction. He was considered the perfect emissary because he couldn’t create vampires at all.”
Malorie covered the sound of disbelief with her free hand but Feryn noticed and huffed a broken laugh, “It’s true; only first generation Breeder-born Aradians can apparently create vampires; our parents had too much… alien genetics and my son didn’t have enough.”
Was he admitting to being descendants of aliens or was he using the term in a vague manner, like incompatible DNA? She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know, though it was surprisingly reassuring to hear that any children they had together wouldn’t contribute to the vampire escalations. If they had children….
She saw that he was struggling to get the words out and without hesitation she put her finger over her lips. Glancing over her shoulder, seeing that Toby was continuing to play with the plants, she looked back to Feryn, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. As he opened his mouth to speak, she murmured, “Share your blood with me.”
His eyes sparkled as he fought a smile, “I thought you were against vampire creation.”
She frowned, a little at a loss at his humor. She would never have expected it of him when she met him. It was bad enough that he was sinfully handsome and smelled like some sort of dark heaven; with his sense of humor, she had no defenses left. Sliding her fingers along the strong line of his jaw, she murmured, “I’m not asking you to make me a vampire; I’m asking you to share your blood.”
