Embrace the Mystery [03] Blood Rose Series (21 page)

He also had an organized mind that functioned like a computer, always analyzing. And he had one of the largest
doneuses
stables in all the Nine Realms and fed twice a day, rain or shine. He also had secrets. Some said he killed his brother in a rage over a thousand years ago. Of course, few still lived who could corroborate the story one way or the other. Maybe his sense of discipline came from keeping a volatile temper in check.

Whatever the case, Quinlan trusted Seth with his life. He gave him a rundown of all that had happened and that he now stood on the edge of the snowfields. “By my calculations, we’re fifty miles from Ferrenden Peace. Do you have your map with you? Have you seen the enthrallment over this region roll back?”

“I have. Stunning. Impressive. I have half my Guard with me and we keep advancing in a northwesterly direction, according to your instructions. We’ve hit an exquisite light display in the sky, similar to the earth’s northern lights. Do you see anything like that from your vantage point?”

“No, but I suspect it has something to do with the power this field radiates. I wish I understood more about our myths. I’ll bet the answers to these phenomena show up in our oral traditions.”

“You’re probably right. So, what’s your plan?”

“To keep moving in the direction imprinted in my mind until we meet up. Just keep an eye on your map.”

“Will do.”

When he returned his cell to his pocket, he saw Batya shiver. Without giving it a moment’s thought, he pulled her into his arms then called for her satchel. As soon as she was bundled up in a warm coat, he ordered the brigade to move on.

He rose into the air, the brigade with him, and started across the vast Snowfield of Rayne.

* * * * * * * * *

With her head covered in a warm, furry hood, Batya savored the view as Quinlan flew her mile after mile across the snowfields. The vibrations soothed her and made her smile, even as the land sloped ever downward and the snow began to show more rocks and shrubs.

She realized she’d never been so happy in her entire life, a thought that startled her because it made no sense. After all, she’d just been through a series of harrowing experiences, including communing with the Dead Forest and watching Margetta and her force get blown clear across Grochaire Realm, over five hundred miles and then some. Yet, she felt content as though she belonged here, in Quinlan’s arms, speeding above a white expanse that glittered like diamonds, toward an unknown destination.

How was this even possible, first that she was here and secondly, that she was content?

She’d always preferred her independent, self-ordained path to anything so full of realm meaning and purpose. Yet here she was flying toward a place from her world’s myths called, Ferrenden Peace, a land supposedly ruled by a benevolent and very ancient virgin queen.

She wondered suddenly if that was exactly what they would find once they arrived, a strange kingdom ruled by a woman, also known to be an ancient fae called Rosamunde.

After another hour in the air, Quinlan drew his phone carefully from his pocket, a movement Batya sensed. He could easily upset their trajectory at this speed with a jerk of his wrist.

He’d already called Mastyr Seth twice before, each time checking to make sure that the enthrallment kept rolling back so that Seth and his Guardsmen would arrive at nearly the same time they did.

Quinlan slid his phone back into his pants pocket.
We’re getting close, Cha. Seth has his map in front of him. He says the map reveals the border of Ferrenden Peace. He also said that another place name has appeared, the Kingdom of Peace.

No kidding.
Then she felt it, a wave of sensation that brought her breath up short.
I get it.
She laughed.

What is it?
He adjusted her again in the circle of his right arm, still holding her tight.

Ferrenden Peace and Kingdom of Peace.
I think our language changed the name over the years.

Quinlan smiled as well.
You may be right.

And I’m experiencing a new vibration, something euphoric and I think it’s coming from the town itself. You should slow down now. We’re less than a mile away.

I see it. A wall of some kind. Mist maybe.

Right, but the town beyond is lovely, the streets rising to the crest of a hill, the castle on top. Sweet Goddess, this is a fairy tale.

All I see is the wall.
He slowed down and after another quarter mile, came to a stop, dropping to stand on a cobbled street lined with trees and grass. “Is this the entrance?”

She didn’t respond at first. So many sensations struck her at once, of awe and of great contentment, and of something like
coming home.

Finally, she answered his question. “Yes, we’ve arrived. The gates are right in front of us, not thirty yards away.” She stepped out of the circle of his arms and advanced forward, Quinlan moving to walk beside her.

“Guards,” she called out to the two men posted at either side of the massive, black spiral gate. She sensed the power of the wrought iron, that the gate in one sense was purely ornamental. The mist would hold intruders out. No one simply flew over the gate into Ferrenden Peace. Admittance must be granted.

“Yes, Mistress. How may I help you this fine October day?” She smiled because he sounded like her father. Davido often used expressions just like that. The Guardsmen wore a uniform similar to Quinlan, except with a black leather beret angled over their heads.

“We request entrance. I am Batya, sired by Davido, The Great One, and this is Mastyr Quinlan, ruler of Grochaire Realm.”

At her words, the mist rolled away from the gate and a soft exclamation rose up from the brigade ranks because now the kingdom was visible to everyone.

“You are welcome to enter, Mistress Batya. Indeed, you are expected. Queen Rosamunde gives you and your entourage, full access to our town.”

Her first instinct was to explain that Quinlan and his Troll Brigade were hardly
her entourage
, but Quinlan gave her arm a squeeze, then thanked the Guardsman.

The gate opened wide.

Once the entire force was inside the city gates, she glanced back and watched as the mist and gate both closed back up.

Quinlan explained that Mastyr Seth would be arriving soon.

The Guardsman nodded. “We are fully informed. The queen has foreseen your visit and all is prepared. Mastyr Seth will join you at the castle in due course. In the meantime, accept the queen’s hospitality. The Mistress of the Hall is here to settle all of you in proper chambers for the night.”

A tall fae, in flight, introduced herself as Gizelda, her ease in the air giving Batya a pang of envy. She explained that she had made arrangements to home-host the entire brigade and that the ladies and Quinlan would be staying at the castle. “If that pleases you, Mastyr Quinlan.”

“Very much so, thank you.”

“Then follow me through the town and when we are nearly at the castle, I’ll direct the brigade into the hands of my assistant, Myra.”

Once Quinlan had them in flight, following the elegant Gizelda up the main street, Batya shook her head over and over. Many of the realm-folk waved to them as they passed by. Flower baskets hung from beautiful black light standards, set at twenty feet intervals. Blue shutters hung beside most of the windows.

At an intersection, a cheering group of troll females, many with low-cut tops, waved and screamed. The cheers became a roar as the brigade moved by.

Batya turned slightly in Quinlan’s arms to watch as each Guardsman smiled and puffed out his chest a little more, spears in the air. Henry saluted the women, which caused another swift burst of shouting.

“We’re definitely expected,” she said quietly. “Those women are dressed to kill and I don’t think they’re working girls.”

Because she was looking behind her, she met Lorelei’s gaze and her friend smiled, tears in her eyes. Batya had been so caught up in her own experience that she hadn’t realized what coming here would mean for the woman Margetta had been pursuing for decades.

“You’re free,” she called back to her.

Lorelei inclined her head. “Free at last.”

Chapter Nine

Quinlan stood by the window in the room assigned to him. Some smart fae foresight had assigned Batya the adjoining bedchamber. She showered while he towel-dried his long hair.

The queen had already provided a meal, so they’d eaten, but Gizelda had made it clear Rosamunde wouldn’t be receiving anyone until the next evening, which was just as well.

He felt like he’d been battling and marching for a week and a vibration up both arms told him he needed to feed soon. He’d spent a lot of energy flying Batya to Ferrenden Peace, known to the locals as the Kingdom of Peace.

He still couldn’t believe he was here.

Ferrenden Peace

But dawn wasn’t too far off. He could feel that vibration as well, the warning tingle up his spine, telling all vampires to seek shelter. He sometimes wondered how his ancestors survived without modern building materials.

Caves, probably.

He recalled one of his
doneuses
reading some kind of novel recently, a romance, where the vampires lived in caves and did some crazy stuff with chains.

No caverns in his world, just a variety of realm-folk needing his protection against the enemy.

He heard the revelers. The long window faced the main thoroughfare, and even at that distance he could hear the shouting and laughter. Henry and his men needed this time to let things go. They’d be mourning the loss of their fellow warriors when the next evening broke. Henry already had a brief memorial service planned for the fallen. Later, when the brigade returned to Grochaire, proper remembrance services would be taken care of by the families.

For now, getting drunk and well-laid would go a long way to healing the warriors.

“You’re sure thinking hard. I’ve heard you sigh at least a dozen times.”

He turned to find Batya backlit by the light from her bedroom, which had the happy effect of showing the outline of her womanly figure through the thin fabric of the nightgown she wore. Ferrenden Peace’s weather, now that they’d left the snow behind, was relatively mild and the castle comfortable.

The queen had provided them with clothing. He wore a simple, but very soft, dark blue velvet robe.

He set the towel on the stone window sill, then crossed to Batya. She’d dried her long hair and it smelled sweet like berries as he pulled her into his arms.

She pushed underneath his robe until her arms flowed around his back.

You’re hungry.

Yes, I need sustenance, but right now I need you more.

She hugged him, then lowered her hands to caress and fondle his ass. His cock loved it and stiffened for her.

She kissed his neck, her lips plucking at his skin, up and up, over his jaw-line to finally land on his mouth.

He crashed down on her, kissing her hard, holding her tightly to him. She slid one hand over his waist then his hip. He gave her just enough room to reach him, her fingers sliding around his stalk, a new kind of caress.

He drew back and looked into her large, hazel eyes. She was so beautiful, especially in the soft glow his vampire vision yielded right now. Emotion swelled in his chest, something unfamiliar, yet powerful. He felt strangely like he needed to say something important to her, maybe even to thank her for being so strong over the past few days.

Instead, he kissed her again and let all that feeling sweep through him. Her body responded, trembling.

After a moment, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Holding her in one arm, he pulled the covers back then laid her out on the sheets. Her thick, blond hair fanned out on the pillows, just as he’d always imagined it would.

His gaze drifted to her large breasts and the three simple bows that held the gauzy gown together. He stretched out beside her and through the fabric fondled her breasts, teasing each tip into a swollen firm bud.

He dipped down and took her right breast in his mouth, sucking at her through the fabric. She moaned as she stroked his head, his cheek, and played with his lips while he worked her nipple.

“It takes so little,” she whispered. “It’s never been like this, Quin, not with any man. You take me to the edge in lightning speed.”

Unwilling to stop savoring her breast, he pathed,
I love nursing on you.
He lifted his gaze while he suckled, to meet her wide hazel eyes, now dark with passion.

The scent of her sex, rich with her tropical-flower fragrance, hardened him even more. He arched his hips into her, pressing his cock against her thigh.

She pushed away his robe, her fingers kneading his shoulders and arms, then finding his pecs and rubbing over his nipples. Her moans grew louder.

He released her nipple as well, and helped her out of the gown then resumed savoring her breasts, fondling the size of her, the wonderful weight of each, enjoying her moans and coos and the way she worked the muscles of his arms.

He flexed his biceps for her over and over which kept her hips rising and falling.

Drifting a hand over her abdomen, he loved her soft gasps and the way her body jerked at his touch, as though his fingertips burned her.

Lower he crept. Only this time he massaged above her mound and across her pelvis. She breathed in deep gulps. Taking more of her breast in his mouth, he sucked harder.

Her coos turned to cries as he smoothed a hand over her mound.
Spread for me.

Batya responded, easing her legs apart. His lips trembled over her breast as his fingers slid downward and found how wet she was. He groaned heavily as he played with her soft folds, just to feel her and to enjoy her.

She moaned again, her hips rising and falling, pushing into his hand. He slid two fingers inside and his cock jerked, wanting to be exactly where his fingers were. He slid in and out, suckling her nipple with the same rhythm that he used between her legs.