Authors: Multiple
The carriage
jerked and he tensed his arm holding her, keeping her against him through the
rocking motions. When he expected the jarring movements to even out, they
continued to lurch, making Beth cry out in surprise. Too late, he realized the
carriage was out of control, jolting, then tilting to the side. Their bodies
slid and he took the brunt of the impact on his back, while holding Beth and
trying with his supernatural strength to keep her from harm.
"What is
it?" she cried. "Trinity!"
The screeching
of metal and boards snapping reverberated around them as their world inside the
carriage began to topple and even his beast's strength couldn't hold his wife
to him.
"Trinity!"
Chapter
Twenty Eight
Beth groaned
awake to bright sunlight in her eyes. Why was she lying on her back with
sunlight pulsing down on her? She groaned again at the odd angle her body
seemed to be lying in and she raised a hand to her throbbing temple. Blood on
her fingers caused her to pant and a ripple of pain flushed her body. Two of
her fingers looked torn to the bone and her mouth drew a silent gasp.
She
should feel more pain
. She should scream.
Somehow, the
panic wouldn't rise as high as she thought it should and she tried to focus her
blurred vision on her fingers. Shouldn't they be bleeding more? She blinked
several times and it seemed to her with each blink the torn flesh looked
better.
Trinity's
blood.
"Oh,"
she moaned at the remembrance. She'd tasted it again and it was so intoxicating
sliding down her throat, fusing in her body. "It heals me," she
breathed, remembering. That was why her battered flesh was healing and why the
pain was bearable. Yet, why was she hurt? Where was she?
Then she
remembered Trinity's body against her and the spear of his manhood …
"Trinity," she gasped. Where was he? He'd been with her in the carriage.
She forced her body to turn despite fearing it would hurt. However, the pain
was dull. But then she heard a snort that made her whine in fear. "Oh,
God."
Quickly she saw
it was a horse, above her, but several paces away. She realized there was
broken wood and metal around her as the horse stomped and the wreckage groaned.
"No," she whispered, praying the horse wouldn't move. She could see
its harness was still attached. Slowly, she made her way out of the wreckage of
the carriage. With each move and turn she made through the broken mass, she
felt stronger and the pain grew less.
Trinity's blood.
It was
strengthening her and healing her, she thought, grasping a broken carriage rail
for support. She realized her breasts were tumbled out of her bodice.
Because
we made love.
She moaned in
distress, remembering as she swayed and tried to right the collar of her dress
to cover her chest. Her dress was torn and she could barely manage to get her
breasts covered from the sun glaring down on the wreckage. It had to be the
middle of the day with the sun straight overhead and there was the strangest
feeling in her temples. It was as though words of desperation spoke without
sound or form. Just impressions … and they were insistent.
She looked down
the curve in the road; something dire was happening far ahead. It was desperate
and the feelings were agonized as though someone dear was dying. She clutched
her forehead. How could she feel such things? A groan sounded behind her,
startling her and making her gasp.
"Trinity,"
she cried, seeing some movement in the rubble. No further sound issued, and she
had to pick her way through the uneven tumble of boards and bent metal. She
came out on the far side from where she'd heard the groan, and now that she was
on even ground, she picked up her trailing skirts and started to hurry.
However, a second later she halted with a whine in her throat. There was a man
lying sprawled on the ground. He was on his side and his arm was at such a
strange angle behind him it had to be broken.
She realized he
had to be the carriage driver and even though it frightened her to go nearer to
him, to see if he lived, she forced herself. As she stooped beside him, placing
her hand on his chest to feel if it was rising and falling, she thought it was
a blessing he was unconscious. She could feel the shallow lifting of his chest,
but his body was twisted with multiple breaks.
"I will try
to find help," she whispered, touching his temple. She rose, desperate to
find Trinity, as she picked up her skirts and hurried around the side of the
wreckage.
What she saw
made her cry out Trinity's name as she ran up to him and fell to her knees
beside him. He was pinned under the wreckage with an axle beam over his chest
and one of his arms caught under more pieces of wreckage, as he lay as if he
were nailed to a cross. His eyes were closed and there seemed to be steam
coming from the flesh on his face and hand. The sunlight? Was it because he was
a vampire? It was so bright and hot. She never should have forced him to leave
during daylight.
He looked so
pale, with bluish casts under his closed eyes. His strong lips were lifelessly
pale and his jaw slackened from its normal, chiseled strength. Beth grabbed her
skirts with one hand, trying to hold them up to shield his face, while her
other hand landed flat on his chest. It didn't move — it seemed he wasn't
breathing.
Panic slid
through her. "Trinity. Trinity." She pushed against his chest.
"The
wood," he rasped, so low she barely caught it, as his eyes stayed closed.
Hope struck her fast and clear. He was alive. But she looked around them. There
was wood everywhere. What did he mean? "My leg." His voice was barely
a whisper.
Beth scooted
back, bypassing the beam to look at Trinity's lower body. She saw it immediately
and a cry of distress shuddered from her lips as she scooted closer to the
injury. It was a piece of wood imbedded in his thigh. She couldn't tell how far
it went in, but it was as thick as her small fist.
"Oh
no," she hissed, remembering the wooden stake he'd given her. What had he
said about it? She banged her head with the heel of her hand. "The
heart." He'd said to aim for a vampire's heart. But the wood wasn't
imbedded in his chest. She looked past the beam to his ashen face. It was obvious
that the wood still affected him.
It would be
impossible for her to pull it out. She'd never have the strength. She looked at
the beam, pinning him, then she looked up at the sun. Her eyes squinted. There
was still half a day left before it would set. If she went for help, it might
be too late.
"Trinity."
She crawled back to him, brushing rubble away from his one hand she could get
loose. She clasped his hand into her hands, not feeling the normal coolness,
but dry heat.
What should she do?
Steam still rose from his flesh and
when she looked closer, she saw the beginnings of blisters. "I'll go get
help," she exclaimed.
"No,"
Trinity's voice was weak, but clear as he tightened his hand in hers for a
moment before it went slack again. "Wait," he rasped.
Beth looked up
and down the road. "Wait for what?" she asked, sounding shrill.
"D-Dark."
His voice was barely a whisper.
"Oh God,
Trinity, you will never make it," she said, brushing hair back from his
blistering temple.
His eyes opened
for one second, blazing at her. "I will." His voice was forced out,
and then his eyelids drooped.
She rocked,
holding his hand to her chest, trying to think through her distress. Why didn't
he want her to leave and try to find help? At first, she thought it could be
because it was dangerous for a woman traveling alone. Panic and worry had
dulled her senses when it finally came to her that Trinity didn't want her to
find help from humans because he was a vampire. Anyone looking at him would
wonder why he blistered as he did, as though cauldrons of hot water were poured
over his skin.
Suddenly, he
groaned with a pain-filled retch and his body shuddering through the sound.
Tears stabbed her as she kneeled closer. "Why aren't you healing?"
she sobbed. "Why aren't you stronger?" He was a vampire … he should
be stronger than this.
Blood.
The answer was so simple, so blatant in
her mind. It was the knowledge she'd gain with his blood infusing her. Blood
would make him stronger.
"You
need
my blood," she whispered close to him.
"No!"
The word was a sharp groan heaved from him. His head thrashed. "No,"
he hissed.
Tears fell from
her eyes then. "Please, Trinity, please," she begged.
Another tremor
wracked his body as hissing sounds came from his skin. "God," she
exclaimed, dropping his hand and trying to use her skirts to shield him from
the glare of the sun. His flesh was melting and the pain had to be unbearable.
"Enough!"
she cried, looking about frantically, and then she saw it, a nail point
protruding from a spit of wood beside her. Without forethought, she slashed her
wrist across it, crying out in pain that dulled instantly. Her blood welled
with life.
A growl erupted
from Trinity as his body stiffly jerked and she shoved her bloody wrist against
his grimacing lips. "You
will
take my blood. I give it to you now
and forever!" she cried.
Chapter
Twenty Nine
The inhuman howl
that broke the confines of the dank, subterranean vault tore at Christian's
soul as Adam's snapping teeth barely missed his left cheek.
"My God,
hold him," Church uttered.
"Jesu, I
don't remember any of us being this strong when we turned," Baptiste
shouted.
"You
were," Church assured them.
Christian
grappled with Adam's upper shoulders, trying to lock him down from behind,
while his brothers struggled with the rest of his body. He knew what agony Adam
was going through, and it broke his heart.
"Give him
some of your blood," Church ordered harshly as they dragged Adam's body to
the ground between them.
Adam's tall
frame thrashed with body-breaking spasms as though his bones were breaking and
realigning. Christian thrust his wrist over Adam's chunky, gnashing canines.
"Bloody
hell," Christian hissed as Adam dug into his flesh. He deserved the pain
though and after the first bite, he took it stoically.
"We're
going to have to restrain him, provide him blood, and clean up that slaughter
upstairs," Church said tightly, although they all eased up holding Adam
down as he fed.
Christian
watched Adam's eyes, which showed only the whites, turn down slowly, revealing
black irises as he unconsciously fed. It would be several days before his
consciousness asserted itself into the animalistic savage he would be that all
new vampires were for months, even years after turning.
Adam would never
willingly give up taking blood at this stage so Christian tore his wrist away,
tearing the flesh. He welcomed the sharp pain as his due and he watched Adam
settle more calmly. It would only last for a little while. He licked his wrist,
healing the jagged edges closed.
Christian looked
up at Church pacing within the dark and dank confines of the cellar. As soon as
Adam had calmed, Baptiste had gone upstairs to clean away the vampiric carnage.
As vampires, they couldn't leave such a display for humans to become
terror-crazed over. Baptiste had informed them there were only two other
residents at the mansion, an elder butler and older gentleman who appeared to
be the lord of the mansion. Baptiste had wiped both men's memories of his
presence and put them into a deep sleep that wouldn't leave them for several
hours. Tools of the trade, when one's prey was human.
"This is
Lady Beth's brother," Church asserted, stopping short in his pacing.
Christian held Adam's jerking body as he sat on the ground.
He nodded to
Church as his mind raced. Adam would need a benefactor … more like a guard to
keep him from the foul actions of being a new vampire. Christian prayed
silently, his lips moving with the plea to do the just thing. If it were he,
and he'd had the choice in the beginning, he would have begged someone to cage
him until he could get his new predatory side under control. He smoothed his
fingers over Adam's cold temple.
"He'll need
blood," Church gravely muttered the pressing need again.
"I had
to," Christian exclaimed with beseeching tones. "He was gone and I
simply h-had too."
Church uttered
an oath, and then he was kneeling beside him. "Brother, you did the right
thing." Christian leaned into Church's one arm embrace. "This man was
innocent; whatever foul thing happened upstairs, this …"
"Adam,"
Christian supplied.
"Adam,"
Church continued on, "was caught in the middle of the horror."
Christian rested against Church for support; it went against everything he
believed for him to make Adam a vampire. "Damn it, Christian, you saved
him," Church uttered.
Adam gurgled in
Christian's lap with his over-sized fangs gnashing. Christian tightened his
grip on Adam's twitching body as they both looked down at him. "I will
watch over him. I won't forsake him again," Christian muttered.
Soft noises of
the air shifting lifted both their heads. They'd heard the sound many times.
Baptiste's form took shape in front of them. "It's Cull," he hissed.
Church stood as Christian clutched Adam tighter, wondering how Cull could be in
Adam's residence. Did Adam know Cull? Was Cull the vampire that had sucked him
dry? That made no sense if Cull was dead.
"The body
on the stairs?" Church's brows slashed, looking dangerous as he looked
between them.
"Aye, I
found the head down the hall, and I smell another vampire's blood in all the
mess, but it's a weak scent, when it should be stronger." Baptiste's
mustache drew down with his frown.
"This is
Lady Beth and Lord Adam's residence," Christian said, disbelieving these
things could be happening here in their home to two innocent humans.
Church raked a
hand through his snow-white hair, grimacing with dark shadings in his eyes.
"We need to find out what this is about." He paused as though
thinking. "Trinity needs to know about this. It feels like an indirect
threat to Lady Beth, although I'm blasted if I can figure out how."
"Aye,
Trinity, definitely," Baptiste agreed.
"Yes, he
needs to know," Christian said. "I know he can feel some of it, and
if it wasn't for Lady Beth, I'm certain he'd be here already."
"Hell,"
Church cussed. "I've got the damn ball starting tomorrow evening."
Baptiste’s hand
clasped Church's shoulder. "You leave and attend to it. It's not something
we can just let go. Christian and I will manage."
"I'm taking
him to my church." Christian had decided earlier. "I'll look after
him in the tombs below."
Church started
to argue, then he cursed again, "Damnation, you can't take him to the
mansion tonight with preparations for the ball making everything mayhem
there." He looked worried.
"This is my
responsibility," Christian asserted, then added in a voice he was glad
didn't waver, "I'm a sire now."
"I'll help
him, Church." Baptiste looked between them.
Church left
reluctantly, moments later, while Adam jerked hard in Christian's hold. Adam's
eyes opened with only the whites showing. His breath hissed and if it wasn't
for the cloak wrapped tightly around his arms and body, he would have been
harder to contain.
"I've got
to give him more of my blood." Christian knew his voice sounded strained.
"Aye,
brother, but not too much," Baptiste warned. It had been decades since any
of them had dealt with a new vampire because it went against the self-imposed
moral laws they lived by. Christian understood Baptiste was reminding him of
little-used facts.
"I
won't." Christian rubbed his temple. "Once we secure him in the
church's tombs, I will bring him animal blood."
Baptiste nodded.
"Let me finish upstairs, then it should be near dusk and we can take him
out of here."
Baptiste was
gone from one blink of the eye to the next and Christian turned his gaze down
to Adam. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "You are too good for
this."
Adam moaned as
though he'd heard his voice, but Christian knew logically it was too soon. Adam
would be little better than an animal for months, until he began to learn how
to exert his willpower over savage vampiric urges.
* *
* *
Fanton lurched
through the hidden passageway. He'd been clawed in so many places from that
damn Cull, his left arm was barely attached. It wasn't the worst of his
injuries; his torn throat was the nasty one. Yet it was healing with Adam's
pure virgin's blood pumping through him. He'd need more blood soon and plenty
of it to heal, but the daylight outside – just the feel of it was sapping
his strength along with his injuries.
The only thing
that saved him from Cull had been feeding so plentifully and on such pure blood
from Adam. He'd never have been able to overpower his Sire without it, but he'd
left that lowbred bastard in shreds. Fanton fell against the wall with the old
stone crumbling from the impact. No one had known about the hidden passages but
him and perhaps his rancid old uncle. Beth and Adam had been clueless, as
usual. He'd used them many times to go out into the night from the mansion
above. God, what he wouldn't give to have Beth with him. Her blood would
regenerate him, while her fat tits would soothe him.
"Fuck,"
he snarled.
His residence
was tainted and he didn't know what to do about it, but the darkness of the
passageway slightly eased him. Authorities would arrive soon, wondering what
foul thing had occurred in his uncle's mansion. A decapitated body inside,
blood everywhere, and a dead body outside. He mourned losing sweet-tasting
Adam. On the one hand, he was grateful his stepbrother had been there to keep
him alive, but on the other, he'd lost another easy source of blood.
"They could
think Adam killed Cull." Personally, he thought it ridiculous, but he
worked it over in his mind. "No! They'll look at me. Fuck, I know they
will."
He pushed away
from the wall, knowing he had to make it to the cellar. There were tunnels
leading out from there he could follow, and as soon as night fell he could
leave the dark tunnels and find the blood he desperately needed.
The closer he
came to the hidden cellar door, the more he could smell vampires. All along,
he'd thought it was Cull's body, but then his head cleared for a moment and he
knew Cull drank wolfsbane as he did to cover such scents from other vampires.
All that black blood smeared upstairs though. No wolfsbane could cover that.
He came to the
thick door that would lead him directly into the cellar. It was hidden behind
shelves of dusty, old wine bottles. The shelf was cleverly made to hide the
concealed passageways’ existence and those shelves would swing outward once he
pushed on the heavy door. Voices on the other side made him stop as he became
more certain he smelled other vampires. Cull's men? Panic struck him deep as he
backed away from the door, stumbling with weakness as he clutched his torn
throat.
Fanton didn't
know if any of Cull's lowlife brethren knew about him. He was under the
impression Cull never let the secret out that he'd sired a nobleman. They could
have arrived with him. Waiting outside?
"No,
no," he muttered under his breath, swiping sweat off his brow. If they'd
been there they would have come in early, when the fighting started.
He couldn't
think straight with the need for blood pounding in his throat. How could
vampires be here? It had to be Cull's men, even if he couldn't figure out how.
He inched toward the door, listening through the cracks, and he picked up the
faint sounds of someone praying. Fuck, he was delusional. Praying? He listened
closer.
"Adam, I
won't leave you."
Fanton nearly
fell back from the door. Was Adam alive? The only possible way Adam could be
alive was … "Someone
turned
him," Fanton hissed in a low
whisper.
Who would do
that! Who would come there and give Adam their vampire's blood? Fanton
remembered the taste of Beth's tainted blood. He nearly laughed. His weak and
idiotic stepsister and stepbrother had
found
vampire acquaintances.
Damnation, he
could never come back here, now. He'd realized it with Cull's beheaded corpse
in the entryway, but this last revelation sealed it. He had to find blood, his
money, and then run. Now. The problem was the only way to the underground
tunnels was through the cellar.
Adam began
screaming. "No, Fanton. No!" His voice shrieked the words repeatedly
as his body convulsed and Christian tried to restrain him.
"Adam, it's
all right!" Christian cried, knowing he'd never hold him alone. There was
a crash behind them of breaking bottles that turned Christian's gaze as he fell
over Adam's body, which was jumping with bone-cracking seizures.
A barrel-chested
man with black blood covering his ripped clothes appeared from behind the
shelf. Christian barely caught the smell of vampire on him as a snarl of
protection leaped from his throat. It was instinctive and he would have jumped
up to shield Adam, but Adam was thrashing awake with howls and snapping fangs.
"No!"
Christian shouted toward Adam, choosing to harness his agitated movements,
while hoping the other vampire didn't attack. The rogue vampire looked wounded
in the worst way with wild eyes as he charged across the width of the cellar,
running into a boarded wall. Christian blinked, not understanding, and then the
boards broke into a tunnel.
"Fanton,
no, no, no, no, no," Adam howled.
Christian
slashed his other wrist and brought it to Adam's gaping mouth.