by T. S. Ryder
So, they were counting on the bear to finish him. That was their mission: his death. Not just an ambush, but an assassination attempt.
Darius shook his head as he snatched his bow and arrow off the ground. A sniper's rifle would have done them a world of good if they wanted to assassinate him. But, like many of the vampires, they were stuck in the old ways of fighting.
As the bear came at him again, Darius notched an arrow to his bow. He stood his ground, aiming quickly before he let the arrow fly. It sunk deep into the bear's eye. Two more arrows, both to the heart, and the bear collapsed. Her huge chest heaved.
Darius spun on his heel, firing arrows rapidly at the shifters attacking his men. Three were down before they realized that their bear had fallen. One of the wolves yipped, and the group scattered. Those that hadn't shifted turned into a variety of birds and took off, the remaining wolves bounding into the trees. Darius let off a few more arrows before they were gone.
An eagle screeched as it fell, an arrow having pierced its shoulder joint. One of his men pointed his revolver at the fallen eagle.
"Hold," Darius ordered. "Take that one as a prisoner."
He slung the bow around his body and retrieved his knife. The bear was shivering and twitching as the poison ate its way through its beastly body. Blood was still flowing generously, but this would be a painful way to die. The vampire knelt beside her head, stroking her coarse brown fur.
"Your wounds are fatal," he said under his breath. "Close your eyes and think of something you love."
Darius waited. The bear's eyes shone with fear but slowly closed. If he ever found himself in such a situation, he hoped that he would receive this same mercy. Pulling back the bear's head, he slit her throat, letting her bleed faster. He continued to stroke her fur until the bear stilled.
"My lord?" one of the sergeants came to him. "We have secured the prisoner."
Darius nodded to acknowledge him. He did not like killing. He didn't hesitate when he didn't have any other choice, but he didn’t like it. When he was a boy, his father would tell him he'd have to outgrow his compassion. Maybe it was because he was still only a young adult in the vampire world, but he never developed the thick skin that the older generations seemed to wear like badges of honor.
It was one of the reasons he liked having Cleo by his side. She was so good at finding other ways of currying favor that didn't include the violence dealt out on nights like this one. But, sometimes, killing was necessary. When two unbreakable winds crashed together, the only result could be violence until one surrendered.
Neither vampire nor shifter would ever surrender. Not until something changed.
Darius turned to the eagle. She had shifted back to human form, his arrow shot straight through her shoulder. The colonel studied her as he came closer. Sweat beaded her forehead, her eyes wide and fearful. Given that he had just killed a bear and was still stained in shifter blood, he didn't blame her. She was also stark naked.
"Give the prisoner your shirt," he ordered the nearest man. First aid would have to wait until they were out of the forest.
It wasn't often that they were able to get shifter prisoners. The eagle flinched as he knelt to her level, but lifted her chin. "No matter what you think you have won today, you have only made it worse for yourself in the end."
"I think you ought to be more worried about yourself. Once we return home, your fate is out of my hands. Tell me where the Rebeluna are and I can keep you a prisoner in my estate instead of sending you to the palace. You will be a prisoner, but you will be comfortable and in time I may be able to release you."
"I will tell you nothing," the eagle spat. "I will not betray my brothers and sisters."
Darius nodded. "I'm sure you won't tell me anything. I'm not an interrogator."
"Sir, we have reports from the other teams," his captain said. "The camp has been abandoned."
"This was an attempt to kill me. Nothing else. We have a prisoner. Leave the dead. Shifters prefer their corpses be scavenged and eaten, their bones spread about the forest, don't they? Their deaths bring life to others." Darius stood, his gaze never leaving the eagle. Her expression faltered and she looked away. "And, if I'm not mistaken, then at least we can allow their fellows to return and bury them. Let's go."
***
Darius sent the prisoner directly to the palace for her interrogation about the Rebeluna and whatever other information she carried. He returned home to his estate. Four of his men had received terrible wounds, one even losing a limb, and they needed rest.
As much as he knew that he shouldn’t be distracted by it, there was still the matter of Cleo's casually-announced pregnancy to take care of. He showered at the barracks before he returned to the house, not wanting to disturb her with evidence of the bloody battle.
He found her at the start of her bedtime routine and stepped up behind her, nibbling a little at her neck.
"You're home."
"I am. And we need to talk. Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant before this?"
"I told you, I didn't want you to worry about me when you should be worried about whether a shifter was going to rip your head off," Cleo said, slathering a clay mask over her face. She glanced at him in the mirror they both faced, expression blank.
"You did tell me that. But that's no excuse. You know as well as I that a healthy child born to me would increase my position. Proof that I can control myself enough to get a woman pregnant and not kill her in the process."
Cleo shrugged. "What difference does it make whether they know that now or later?"
Darius shook his head. He took the jar of clay from her hand. He began applying it on his wife's face, liking the chocolatey smell. After the week he'd had, maybe he could also use a mask. It was a bit girly, but it always seemed to calm him down. And it made Cleo laugh. Right now, he really needed to hear her laugh.
"It doesn't really matter if the court knows you're pregnant or not. But it matters to me, Cleo. It makes me wonder if you were deciding whether to terminate your pregnancy. And if you were—"
"I wasn't."
"Let me finish. I am telling you what I was thinking. If you were thinking about terminating the pregnancy, then, by not telling me you were pregnant, you show a lack of trust. That is unacceptable."
Cleo's sharp gaze softened as he smeared the clay on her chin. "That's not it, Darius. I know it's silly, but I was waiting for a special time to tell you. I was even wearing more fragrance than usual so that none of the other vampires could scent it. I wanted it to be… But then I realized how silly it was. I had you drink from me so that you'd know."
Darius felt his heart soften. He kissed his wife, clay lips and all. "I'm glad that you wanted it to be special, Cleo. Because it is. We might not love each other, but it's still our baby. You're allowed to be happy about that, you know."
"I am happy." She smiled hesitantly, then squeezed his hand. "Very happy."
"Good." He kissed her again. "Because I am, too."
Chapter Four – Cleo
Cleo folded her hands demurely in her lap, trying not to show her excitement. It wasn't often that the king paid a visit to a colonel's house, and yet Iosif had been at the estate for four hours now. He had spent the time in Darius's study, no doubt discussing the shifter problem. Cleo wanted to listen at the door, but that would reflect poorly on her. Thus, she busied herself with the normal things she did during the day.
Finally, Darius sent word for her to meet him in the parlor and Cleo hurried to the room. She had been waiting ever since.
Not that the wait hadn't been pleasant. The parlor was one of the rooms that she had decorated herself after marrying Darius. Before, the furniture had been moth-eaten and covered in cobwebs. Now it was a bright, sunny room with gothic-inspired chairs and couches. Dark wood carved in elaborate patterns trimmed the white crushed velvet. The carpet was a nice neutral gray-blue, the walls painted the color of a robin's egg with lacy white curtains framing the huge French wind
ows. She had even added an old-fashioned hearth since it was unthinkable that a proper parlor wouldn’t have one.
After several moments of waiting, the door opened. Darius came in, followed by a tall, dignified-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and brown eyes. Iosif, the king. Cleo got to her feet and curtsied gracefully. She was glad she had decided on a simple pink blouse paired with a white skirt. It was humble-looking. Like she wasn't trying to impress him. But it worked well on her, especially with her ruby necklace and her hair pulled back in a Greco-Roman goddess style.
"Your majesty, may I introduce my wife, Cleo Paterson," Darius introduced. "Cleo, I would like you to meet His Majesty of the First Union, Slayer of the Dragon Alpha, King Iosif the Grand."
She curtsied again. "It's my greatest pleasure to meet you, your majesty."
"And mine to meet you." The king inclined his head. "You should be honored to have such a fine husband, Cleo. He has done the kingdom a great service. The Rebeluna prisoner he captured has informed us of many plotted attacks that we have since been able to stop. He has dealt a serious blow to the enemy."
"Oh, I am honored to be his wife." Cleo gave Darius a special smile, which he returned. "Even more honored to be carrying his child."
Iosif smiled. "I thought I smelled a pregnancy in this house. Take good care of your woman, Darius. A good woman is hard to find and easy to lose. You'll be seeing many more promotions in your future with her at your side."
Cleo's eyes brightened. Promotion? She had to stop herself from gasping. The king and Darius exchanged a few more pleasantries before parting ways. Cleo knew that they couldn't discuss it in public, so she dragged Darius up to their room before turning on him.
"Promotion?" she demanded.
"It will take a couple months before it's publically announced, but yes. I am being promoted to general."
Cleo clapped her hands and squealed. She hadn't expected it so quickly! But she already knew a dozen of the generals' wives, so she wouldn’t have problems getting introductions there.
A promotion! She would soon be a general's wife. Her influence would increase. Then the next step was to become a prince's wife. That was where the promotions would stop unless something happened to Camlo, the current heir, but even becoming a princess was something no person from her past ever expected her to achieve.
"I knew I made a good choice when I picked you for my husband," she said as she threw her arms around his neck. "You're amazing."
Darius laughed and kissed her. It wasn't his normal, tame 'I'm kissing you because that's what husbands do' kiss, either. This was full of hunger and passion and woke the same burning in Cleo.
As her husband's arms tightened around her waist, heat began to build in her core. Cleo grinned, deepening the kiss. She loved how Darius could make her body respond to his stimulus so easily. She also liked how ready he always was so quickly.
The vampire moved to her neck, nipping at her sensitive skin. Cleo gasped, her heart pounding with excitement.
"Are you going to drink from me?"
"Not right now." Darius' voice was muffled by her skin, but the vibrations made her insides quiver. "I have to get back to work in half an hour."
Cleo sighed, but as Darius' hands began to roam her body, her disappointment was quickly forgotten. He picked her up easily and walked to the bed, laying her on the mattress before crawling on after her.
Her skin tingled everywhere his hands or lips touched and she couldn't help but cry out from pleasure. She giggled.
"I like it when you get all excited," she crooned at him. "You forget about that careful control and just go all in for what you want."
"You like that?" Darius asked, panting now. "You like me thinking only of me and not you?"
"You think of me," she corrected. "You think of me all the time. Even when I'm not there, you think of me."
With a growl, Darius ripped their clothes out of the way. Cleo's breathless laughter soon turned to breathless cries of pleasure. She would never admit it, but at times like this, she would trade all the money in the world to be with Darius forever.
Maybe it was because he was just so good. Maybe it was because he managed to fill every inch of her with pulses of pleasure. Maybe it was his glowing eyes, the smile on his face as he looked down at her. As though she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
As if he was motivated more than just pure lust. As though maybe one day he would actually love her.
The moment of connection between the two of them felt like it lasted longer than it probably did. As Darius brought Cleo along with him, taking her higher and higher – as they gazed into each other's eyes, grinning despite their frantic pace, it felt like she was looking into his soul. And when it was over and she was left breathless and panting, she had to laugh at her own silly notions.
Darius returned to his gentle kisses for a moment before rolling off her. They lay exposed in the room, panting. Her vampire husband grinned idly as he put an arm around her.
"I didn't expect to get this far so quickly. Even getting to be colonel was hard-won for someone as young as I am."
"There are generals younger than you."
"I'm not from one of the higher houses. I had to fight for everything I've gotten. And, yet, here I am, about to become general. I could never have done it without you, Cleo." He kissed her shoulder. "I knew I needed a human wife, but I'm glad I picked you and not somebody else. I'm glad that you're with me on this journey. I'm glad we're going to have a child together."
Cleo bit hard on her cheek as a warm feeling spread through her chest. She didn't want to feel that way about Darius… If she let herself fall in love with him, what then? She might be faced with the decision of choosing between his love or her ambition, and she hadn't struggled through poverty and abandonment to become a shivering waif who would put a man ahead of everything she wanted or needed.
No. Love was not for her, and it wasn't for Darius. She climbed out of bed and began redressing, trying not to notice how much her hands were shaking.
"I have things to attend to," she said and was pleased when it sounded cool and aloof. "That was a great session, thank you. Will I see you at supper?"
Darius swung out of bed as well, his gray eyes darkening. He shook his head stiffly. "I'll be busy for the rest of the day, and probably well into the night. I'll try not to wake you when I do come to bed."
Cleo smoothed her hair and nodded. "Well then. I'll see you tomorrow."
She swept out of the room before she could convince herself to say – or feel – anything else.
Chapter Five – Darius
Several days after receiving news of his promotion, Darius was taking a well-earned break to spend the night with his wife.
He kissed Cleo lightly, smiling as she shivered in his arms. He loved the way she reacted to him, as though he was the most skilled lover she had ever had. Every time it was like they were discovering each other's pleasure again without the awkwardness that had been prevalent with their actual first time. He moved across her jaw and down her neck—
The door burst open.
"You had better have a good explanation for this," Darius growled, not turning to see who it was. Cleo looked a little startled, but she didn't release him. They were both fully clothed, anyway.
"I do," Gordon said. He sounded grim, so Darius turned.
"Well?"
"A cheetah shifter broke into the palace. She assassinated Camlo."
The king's heir. Darius pulled away from Cleo. "How could a shifter get into the palace itself? There should be heavy fortifications, guards… What happened?"
"Details are scarce at the moment. There was a full-scale attack on Lord Virgil's estates, and the king sent troops to help him. The cheetah was caught while trying to get into the queen's chambers, but she had already killed Camlo."
Darius stood and paced from one side of the room to the other. There was a chance that the Rebeluna was responsible for this. As much as it
was a tragedy that the king's heir was killed, it opened up Darius’s possibilities again. But if it was the Rebeluna, Camlo's death was on his shoulders. It was his responsibility to stop the rebels, and while he had made some progress, it obviously wasn't enough.
"This could ruin me," Darius said, tugging at his dark hair. "This could ruin all of us."
"It could also progress your career," Gordon said. "If you were able to find the shifters responsible and bring them to the king, it would shine favorably on you."
"And, if it is the Rebeluna, the king will demand to know why I didn't already know about this plot of theirs. You said they launched a concentrated attack on Lord Virgil? Clearly a distraction. We will have to go see him at once. Did he take any prisoners?"
"From what I hear, he turned and ran away with his tail between his legs," Gordon replied, a look of disgust coming over his face. "He'll be relieved of his position over this. How can he even call himself a vampire?"
Darius grunted, thinking. If he were to retain his promotion, he would have to prove that the Rebeluna was not behind the attack. But hadn't he thought that they were up to something? Even if they weren't directly involved in the assassination, they had to have knowledge of it.
No. He had to work on the assumption that they were directly responsible for the attack. He could not try to prove himself innocent of negligence, he had to redouble his efforts. Avenge the king's heir, drive the Rebeluna out of the vampire kingdom.
The colonel nodded, turning back to Gordon. "I want three squads prepared. We are going to go after the Rebeluna and bring them down once and for all."
Cleo gasped. "Darius, that's too dangerous. You still don't know much about them – their numbers, their command structure… You don't even know if all the attacks that have been claimed by them have actually been theirs! It could be several groups, each claiming to be the Rebeluna in order to throw you off the trail. Your best chance is to just prove that this is Lord Virgil's fault for his lax security, not because of you."
