Bloody Heretic

Bloody Heretic

A bloody Series

Book 4

Copyright 2012 by Emily Barker

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written p
e
rmission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

To my mother, for teaching me the love of the written word. My father, for helping me embrace my love of the strange. And mostly, to my husband, for being my real life hero.

Prologue

    "You've done it now, Jeannie," Gabriel whispered to the girl be
ing led through the streets in a cart not fit to haul
chattel
, let alone the Maiden of Orleans. She stood with her hands bound in front of her, quietly witnessing the pyre as it drew closer and closer. It was a miracle unto itself that she didn't rage agai
nst her captures. He had learned since his own escape that after being held captive for nearly two months, she had stopped trying to escape after the fifth failed attempt. Gabriel would have been to her rescue long before now had his
compatriots
not held h
im captive as well. Voicing his opinion had landed him down a twenty foot drop into an
oubliette
. Nothing to sustain him but the blood of the enemy, their throats slashed over the hole above before being dumped down to join him. Michel, their leader, knew
quite well how quickly one had to drink from the dying to inge
st the living blood remaining.
They were bastards, every last one of them. Word of
Jeanne
’
s
eminent
death and failed escape missions had given Gabriel just enough motivation to escape his own pr
ison to save the girl who had risked all for God and Country. His opinion had been that Jeanne deserved their help now that France had turned its back on her, not their abandonment. She wouldn't be rotting in prison now if they hadn't
accepted
her help. Mo
re probable, she would be laundering, or running the forests of
Lorraine
, as she had been when they had first met. The frightened and awed girl of twelve had grown up in the last seven years. Though no taller, her courage and spirit were boundless. Even as
he watched her being led to her
seemly
imminent
death, she held her
head high
. Her hair was shorter than it had been the last time he had seen her, but her gray eyes shown just as brightly. An official was reading off the list of her supposed crimes, and
Gabriel sneered at the old fool. He would snap the
man
’
s
neck before leaving the courtyard this night. Still, Jeanne made no attempt to shift and run. She stood proudly, fearlessly. If he wasn't so angry
with her
, he might be in awe. It wasn't until she w
as led wordlessly by the rope around her middle up to the platform surrounding the pyre that he understood why she didn't shift. She would be a martyr for the people. She went willingly. He had seen grown men weep as they were dragged up by their arms, an
d
she walked without guilt or fear, tears or pleas.

     "Stupid girl," h
e growled, before he pushed further through the
crowd. The people had come out e
n masse to see the Maiden of Orleans be burned at the stake and it was slow going, even with his powers
. He watched as some cheered, some wept openly, some stood transfixed by Jeanne herself. He had to admit, even dirty and tied up she could still command every eye to her. He managed to push the rioting crowds away and stand closer to the pyre.
Despite
ever
y attempt to catch her eye, she never looked down.

    "She is still quite
beautiful. I will admit as much,
" Michel spoke behind Gabriel. He started to
swerve
to
ward the elder Vampire but Michel caught the back of his head and forced it forward. "Watch Ga
briel. This is what you came to see, is it not?"

    "I will not watch her death. Not while I
breathe
," h
e growled to his Father, the man who made him.

    "I've decided that you will indeed. It's a fitting punishment I think. Much better than dying in a
filthy hole. You shall li
ve your remaining days with the
image of her burning behind your eyes."

    "Why?" He asked, genuinely confused.

    "Because you disobeyed," h
e spit out.

    "No, why must she die?"

    "You really don't understand? Look at her,
Gabriel. She understands." They both were staring with every single human in the crowd, as Jeanne was laced tightly to the stake. She had the oddest smile tugging at her lips. "She will make a beautiful martyr, no?" Michel smirked as Gabriel turned to se
e
his Maker. The man was single minded in his hatred of the English,
determined
to see the end of the war by any means necessary. Gabriel just hadn't seen how far the man was willing to go.

    "She fought for you, Michel. She bled for you."

    "And she w
ill bleed again. The people will mourn, and then they will fight. Harder than ever. She will be my greatest weapon, even after her ashes are dust in the wind." He turned back toward the pyre, where the
executioner
was preparing the torches. He called for a
ny last words from Jeanne, but if she spoke it was lost to Gabriel. He was too busy pulling the dagger from its hiding place behind his back. Michel sensed the movement and reached for his arm. A second too late he grabbed and missed, catching only
Gabriel
’
s
dirty shirtsleeve. They both twisted and fell but Gabriel landed on top, just heavy enough to pin his Father for the fraction of a second it took to wedge his knife into
Michel
’
s
throat.

    "You wouldn't...
," h
e
mouthed
,
eyes wide.

    "For her, I would." A quick tug and
Michel
’
s
throat opened, gushing blood into the street. Men and women gasped and moved away. He shocked them a second time by standing and
giving a
quick stomp to
Michel
’
s
neck, severing the spine
,
insuring his
incapa
citation
. Most likely it wouldn't kill him, but Gabriel didn't have time to finish him off. He turned just in time to see Jeanne and the fire that was
engulfing
her feet. She grimaced but didn't cry out. He didn't think, just leapt up to her, not caring if
anyone saw. She was coughing when he landed behind her. A quick slash of his dagger and the ropes fell away. Jeanne fell instantly, landing half in the fire. She screamed then.

    "I've got you!" He cried out. It took an incredible amount of strength but
he managed to make the platform collapse as he leapt out. The crowd screamed as the flame billowed out around them, causing a
stampede
. Confusion covered his tracks as he sped away, Jeanne clasped tightly in his arms. After a crazed dash through the city
he found an abandoned home, empty but clean. He set her down in the entryway and pulled his shirt off to use as a rag. She coughed and
wheezed
as he tried
desperately
to wrap her arms and feet.

    "Stupid girl, stupid...
," h
e muttered to himself. She sma
cked his hands away, surprising him.

    "Why...why did you...
," s
he tried to cough out.

    "Why did I save you? Because you were too stubborn to do it yourself." He wiped at her brow. She glared.

    "
For the...people," s
he whispered.

    "Yes, you pla
yed into
Michel
’
s
hands beautifully. Congratulations. You stupid girl."

    "Why didn't you....come...sooner then?" She challenged. He chuckled lightly.

    "I was detained," h
e answ
ered. She took a breath to berate
him some more but this time she didn't s
top coughing. Wracking
convulsions
tore from her chest. Gabriel held her as she struggled to breathe. "Jeannie! My God." When her eyes rolled back he acted without thought. There was no other recourse,
he grasp her tightly, bring her throat to his mouth. He bit into her tender flesh, drinking down enough of her blood to insure his saliva worked
its
way into her blood stream. He then bit into his wrist and tore a gash wide enough to pour his blood into h
er mouth. "Forgive me. Please, forgive me."

Chapter One

    "Do they think we can't see them?" Dominic asked behind his thermal binoculars. "It's absurd."

    "You want me to radio in? I doubt they'll pick up but...Jesus, they're really going at it," C
laude said after picking up his binoculars and looking out the window. Across the street in the adjacent building Gloria and Master Orleans were
engaging
in a rowdy game of 'Who's on top', their bodies flaring bright red through the lenses.

    "You can t
ry the radio. I really don't want to have to go over there," Dom answered. Claude picked up his radio.

    "Monet to Big Red. Monet to Big Red, do you read?" He looked out the window. "Big Red, do you read?"

    "Tell her that her actions are
inexcusable
.
She's going to get herself kicked off the team," Dom told him.

    "Big Red, it's called a stake out, not a make out. Do you copy?" Claude tried again. Dom smirked at him. They watched as Gloria rolled off the Masters lap and dove for the radio.

    "Mo
net, I copy. It won't happen again," she answered, striving for a business-like tone, but utterly ruined it by giggling. Dom could see Master Orleans wrestling the walkie out of her hand.

    "Mind yer own business, Fletcher," Orleans growled into the radi
o. Claude rolled his eyes but set the walkie down.

    "I'm not going to argue with him. He's got at least a hundred pounds on me."

    "Wimp," Dom teased.

    "You tell him then," he
challenged
back, holding out the walkie. Dom leaned back to the windo
w and glanced at
Gloria's room. Orleans was standing in front of the window, staring back at them
menacingly.
They both flinched back.

    "I'm going to go relieve Elliot," Dom said. Claude snorted.

    "Yeah, leave me alone with the baby Vamp for back-u
p." Claude turned back to the window as Dom got up to leave the hotel room. Elliot was stationed on the roof to watch the north end of the building. It was a crap job but he had whined to be let into the stake out, so they gave him the worst job possible
a
nd hoped he would tire of it and give up. As Dom climbed the stairs he could hear Elliot talking with someone. The metal door to the roof groaned as he slipped through, shifting the inch of snow covering the
concrete
.
A hot pink blur passed in front of him
before he
registered
Elliot flying arms out into
the wall beside the door. He duc
ked down to avoid the pink blur as it came at him. When it stopped he could make out a tiny woman with a white fur trimmed jacket. Jeanne. Dom took a step back, unsure if he
could leave undetected. Jeanne crouched down beside Elliot in the snow.

    "Are you finished yet?" She asked. He coughed out a cloud of mist into the air. She backed away as he rolled over to get up.

    "It's one thing to get my ass handed to me by Glor
ia, but to get whipped by a hundred
and five
pound chick with pink hair." He shook his head. "Jeez." He stretched his arms up and bent to the side.