The Sanction (21 page)

Graeme’s eyes widened slightly. “How do
you know that?”

“
She delivered to you a
ring. Give it to me.”

Graeme eyed him, his frown deep. “Why
do you want it?”

“
It is the price you must
pay for my further assistance.”

He nodded and fished into the sack tied
around his waist. The ring was meant for a woman, its’ sizing too
small for a man. The vampire’s eyes burned brighter upon sight of
it, and he presented his opened palm in anticipation. Graeme
allowed it to drop from his fingers. Sutter clutched it tightly and
turned away in a flash. "There is an old shepherds trail to the
west of the village that leads to the River. I will lead them there
and they will follow until the tributaries of
Edinburgh.”

The child whimpered in the corner
closest to the fire. Awe and wonder settled upon Sutter’s features,
and he stepped forward slowly, carefully, as if unsure of what to
expect. One foot from the basket, the vampire’s face reflected a
series of emotions that ranged from disbelief to
confusion.

“
So, you are the reason for
this battle,” he murmured, then, as if suddenly recalling there
were witnesses about, stiffened his spine and turned away abruptly.
His heavy footsteps lead to the window where he vanished in the
snowy depths without a backward glance or another word.

“
Can he be trusted?” Rhys
inquired as Graeme went about the business of awkwardly finishing
the nursing that Sutter had begun.

His hands trembled in pent up emotion
at the welts there, deep and raw. “He upheld his end of the bargain
once. There is no reason he will not do so again.”

Rhys secured the sword to his back and
nodded, casting one last look at the babe. “I will go to the horde
until your return.”

Graeme’s brows pulled together in a
tight scowl. “You will need to explain my absence.”

Rhys nodded stiffly. “I will do what I
must.”

Graeme stood his full height, awkwardly
offering his hand to his general and friend. “I have put you in a
precarious situation yet again.”

The general grinned crookedly and
pulled him into a quick embrace, slapping his back with unsaid
affection. “You have your mate and your son. For you, it is
everything. But for me, the horde awaits."

Graeme nodded and could not bring
himself to say goodbye when he turned his back and left the
room.

Chapter Nineteen

A babe wailed.

Through the thick, dark haze of
slumber, the piercing sounds of distress echoed in the recesses of
her mind. Instinctively, she clutched onto the sound and forced her
eyes to open. They were unresponsive, heavy. The cries of the child
grew stronger, as if it suffered, and in a flash, memories flooded
her and filled her with dread. No, this was not her
baby.

Her child was dead.

A wail of agony seized her. Her parched
lips were sealed shut by weakness. There was no effort to weep –
tears fell through her burning eyes helplessly. The white hot pain
that stroked her form each time she attempted to move could not
compare to the furnace within her chest – or the void in her
stomach.

Such agony must mean she was
alive.

The tears fell even more. There would
be no reprieve from the path she chose then. This was the torment
she would have to bear for a millennia for going against the Coven.
She wept silently until there were no more tears to cry, until her
ragged breaths became once again even – until she heard the heavy,
all too familiar footsteps of her mate.

Through swollen lids she forced her
eyes open. He occupied a chair close to where she lay. Funny, she
had not heard him sit. But then this was only a dream. And what a
sweet one at that, for in his arms she spied a wee child, swaddled
in a thick, woven blanket. Another hot tear trailed a path down her
cheek, but she was too tired to stay awake. There was warmth
suddenly, a rough hand gently stroking her cheek – and the scent of
fresh blood. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. Instinct took control
when she could not, and as she drank her fill, she momentarily met
flaming concerned eyes.

Day turned to night and night to day.
Nightmares plagued her, of children burnt in a fire, of the Hunters
butchering Graeme, of Rhys dying.

“
Remember what you have cost
him when your Coven comes looking for you!”

She wept.

With the nightmares the fever came. Icy
fingers slithered across her body, and the blood she was so
frequently fed she could not keep down. Familiar faces floated
before her eyes – a dark haired Hunter with blazing blue eyes and a
fierce countenance. Vilirus! Yes, it was her brother who mopped the
beads of perspiration from her forehead. Her fingers found his
wrist and she gripped there tightly. The pulse that throbbed
beneath her thumb was strong and swift.

“
Rest now,” he spoke
tenderly. “All will be well. I promise.”

How many times had he spoken to her the
same words a child when the dark shadows of the Coven terrified
her? There is nothing to fear. The darkness and the vampire are
one. It is a part of you.

A baby cried, and the relief that
settled upon her like a blanket was ripped away and replaced by
agony and rage. Vilirus dislodged her fingers from the death grip
she implied upon his arm and pressed his lips to her head before
moving away from her side. Panicked, she cried voicelessly for him
to return before darkness once more claimed her.

****

Graeme drained the mug of ale and eyed
the Hunter who sat in a far corner of the inn. Vilirus he called
himself. Three days ago he had come from visiting his son in the
nanny’s room to find the vampire whispering hushed words of comfort
and reassurance to his semi-conscious female. His first attack was
met with the sharpened tip of a sword, so swift was his
reflex.

“
I am here to help you,” he
said in a breath.

“
Who are you?”

“
Her brother.”

Graeme snorted, body held tense, eyes
heated, determined. “I don’t need your help. Now move away from
her!”

“
She is hurt. She needs to
feed.”

“
Do not think to tell me
what she needs Hunter. It is because of your kind she is
wounded.”

Genuine sorrow made the harsh lines of
his face soften. “I know.” Just as swiftly he sheathed the sword
and considered his sister on the bed. “The Elder sanctioned the
beating privately. We only discovered what happened after she was
rescued.”

“
And you call us beasts,”
Graeme growled. When he advanced, Vilirus did not move. Indeed, his
eyes had stayed upon Amarinda.

“
There has been a new edict
– your head on a pike and her return.”

“
Are you here to try and
kill me then?” he asked in bitter humor.

“
I am here to help in
whatever way I can.”

Now, he sat before the dying flames of
the fire. The Hunters he informed, scoured the land, looking for
any sign of Amarinda. When none could be found, they sent an
emissary to the stronghold and demanded an audience with him.
Graeme stole a glance at the female who stirred beneath the thick
blankets. Soon, they would have to get moving. It would not be long
before the horde scattered to the four winds. When that happened,
his son and his mate needed to be far away and as safe as
possible.

Graeme made his way across the small
room and brushed strands of hair from her face seconds before she
opened her eyes. Emotion forced his throat to close momentarily as
awareness dawned upon her in degrees. The hot tears that stung her
eyes he kissed away silently.

“
You – you came back for
me,” she croaked. Her voice was thick and raspy from lack of
use.

“
Did you doubt it?” he
demanded in a hoarse whisper.

Sadness swamped her then, such that her
eyes lowered and the sudden flush of warmth that possessed her
frame at discovering him present was shadowed by the fresh tears
that haunted her eyes. “The baby…” Harsh fingers sank themselves
into the hair at the back of her head. Graeme kissed her roughly,
his tongue seeking as he re-discovered the recesses of her mouth.
She attempted to pull away. He held her firm. “Please…”

“
The child
lives.”

Stunned, her large eyes met his, hope
shadowed by uncertainty. “Do not jest,” she managed, each breath
pronounced. “Do not be so cruel and jest…”

Graeme linked her fingers with his and
kissed her ashen knuckles firmly. Slowly, carefully, he recounted
to her the details of the days passed until all she could have done
was whimper and weep and speak in her Mother Language. His hands
found themselves stroking her hair and arms of their own accord.
When her weeping had run its course, he listened to the light,
hesitant steps of her brother approach. She must have heard it as
well, for her head lifted sharply and a hard edge chilled the
warmth in her orbs.

“
What is he doing here?” she
demanded stiffly.

“
He is here to help,” Graeme
granted.

Her fingers sank into the coarse wool
on the bed and she forced herself to move. “Get out!” Vilirus’ lips
tightened in a thin line. Still, he said nothing. The pain in his
chest reflected only in his eyes. Graeme pushed her back gently
upon the bed, a dark frown drawn between his brows.

“
Maintain your temper,” he
clucked tenderly, unconcerned by the tremble of her lips. “This is
no way to greet your son.”

That soothed her, for some of the
tension left her body, and when she finally laid her head to rest
upon the pillow, she turned her face pointedly to the firelight.
Graeme stroked the hollow of her cheek and planted a gruff kiss
upon her head before turning to the Hunter who had yet to take his
eyes off her.

“
It seems that your presence
is not wanted by either one of us,” he drawled thickly.

Vilirus seemed to stand straighter
still. “Be that as it may, I gave my word to our father that I
would ensure her safety. Until such a time when I am of no use, you
and I are stuck together.”

Graeme snickered and wrapped fingers of
steel around his upper arm. “Count it lucky that you still live to
be so obtuse, vampire. She may be your sister, but she is my mate.
All she has to do is say the word and I will have your head sent to
your precious Elder along with her regards. Do not be foolish and
upset her.”

The Hunter shrugged out of the hold and
straightened the strap of the daggers upon his back before meeting
his gaze, eyes cold and unmoving. Graeme turned his back and left
the room, summoning the wet-nurse as he did so. From down the hall
she ventured with the wee babe snuggled warmly to her breast,
suckling greedily. After another moment, he was disengaged. Graeme
cradled him and returned to the room. Vilirus was nowhere to be
seen.

“
I do not want him here,”
Amarinda stated with frosty finality.

“
Neither do I. But enough of
him. Here is our son.”

She faced him instantly, the shadows
that haunted her face gone in a flash. Hot tears stung her eyes and
her form trembled fiercely when he deposited the bundle in her
arms. Graeme pulled a stool closer to the bed and considered her
face and the fleeting emotions that flickered there. Wonder,
happiness, anger, relief, confusion – a complexity he did not try
to understand or explain. Her fingers stroked the hair upon his
head, and she pressed her nose to the tender flesh of his neck and
inhaled the essence of him deeply, familiarizing herself with his
unique scent. Each finger and toe was counted several times, each
part of his body inspected as if to reassure herself he was not
bruised or wounded in any fashion. And when she was fully
satisfied, she met Graeme’s eyes boldly.

“
Has he a name?”

He nodded but once.
“Ulleam.”

She scrunched her nose in displeasure
and scrutinized him again. A thoughtful expression crossed her
face. “Rhys saved his life,” she muttered. A long tear stained her
cheek.

“
Aye.” Graeme’s voice
cracked, moved with emotion at the memory of exactly how he had
discovered the duo.

A small smile claimed her lips. “Then
Ulleam it is, for he is strong.”

Graeme considered his mate and son,
both inspecting the other in awe and pleasure. His sharp eyes
caught a glimpse at the healing wound upon her shoulder, one of the
many that was ruthlessly crisscrossed upon her back. He clenched
his jaw and not for the first time, managed to barely control the
white rage that seized him. The marks upon her body healed slowly,
for each wound ran deep.

He felt the warmth of her hand
tentatively stroke his and captured her fingers within his own
quickly, overwrought with emotion to do naught else than press his
forehead to her flesh.

“
What are we to do now?” she
asked softly. He met her eyes. Exhaustion sapped her
strength.

“
I have planned it all.
There is no need to concern yourself about the minor details. Come,
you need rest.” He attempted to lift the child from her arms but
she shook her head, her grip tightening.