Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series) (27 page)

BOOK: Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series)
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Amber was staring at the house, her mouth slightly open and a sense of awe in her blood. It was larger than Duke Montagu’s house and had been in his family since they built it around three centuries ago. Before that, another house had stood on the same ground. Vampire hunters had burned it down.

He gripped the steering wheel and scowled at the house as his father’s voice echoed around his mind along with his tutor’s, telling him of his family’s bloodied past and the night many of them had died to protect their duke and duchess.

His parents.

Kearn had only been young then and had been afraid during the hunters’ attack. The smell of blood and fire had choked him. Kyran had held him close, using his body as a shield and whispering soothing words to him as they escaped the inferno and the battle, and then hid together. In human terms, they had been only five. While it had horrified him, given him nightmares that had lasted almost a decade, Kyran had taken it in his stride.

He had protected him.

Kearn had always been weaker than he was. The firstborn son inherited strength from their father. The second only inherited a fragment of it, and the rest from their mother. Their mother was weak in both mind and body. Her fragility was the reason he was so reluctant to set foot on this land, to enter this house again without permission.

He parked the car next to a row of black Bentleys in the lit area in front of the house. The tall double doors of the sandstone mansion opened and a man scurried towards them, his footsteps loud on the gravel.

Kearn stepped out of the car and the man immediately stopped, turned and hurried back in.

They remembered him at least.

He stared up at the grand façade of the house, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach and weighing his feet down. It was a mistake to come back here, but it wasn’t that which worried him, which had his heart whispering to him to leave because it wasn’t too late yet. They could find somewhere else to hide.

His gaze shifted over the white roof of his car to Amber. She stood on the other side, staring up at the building just as he had been. He could feel the tension and trepidation in her blood. It called to him and it would call to others. The vampire would know her fear, and so would every member of the house of Savernake if he took her in there.

They would know she was human.

Could he commit such an unforgivable sin?

Bringing her, a human, uninvited into the home of a bloodline, a home that had lost many due to the vampire hunters’ inferno, was a worse sin than those he had committed in the line of duty.

His family would never forgive him.

It struck him that he didn’t want their forgiveness for doing it. He would pay the price for bringing her into their sacred place and accept whatever punishment they saw fit, so long as they would protect her.

“Amber,” Kearn whispered and her gaze met his.

Fear shone in her eyes. Her heart beat hard in his blood.

He walked forwards and she mirrored his movement, meeting him at the back of his car. He looked deep into her hazel eyes, memorising the way the warm light from the house played on her face, and then took her hand. She started and then relaxed when his fingers interlocked with hers and he pressed their palms close together.

The doors to the house opened again but no one was there.

An invite.

It was a more civilised reception than he had expected. He had thought they would send out the guards to take him and Amber by force.

Kearn walked forwards, his pace slow, assessing the house and the potential danger. He would be powerless against his family should they attack her. He wasn’t strong enough to fight so many Nobles and stop them all, not even with her blood in his veins. The amount he had taken was too small to significantly increase his strength or evoke the true effect of her blood.

Amber’s hand trembled in his. He didn’t have the words to calm her down so he used his blood instead, opening the connection between them and subduing his feelings to give her a sense of calmness in him that wasn’t real. She didn’t need to know that being here frightened him. She needed him to be strong and to give her a sense that he would protect her.

Because he would.

It was suicidal but he would fight his family for her sake. He wouldn’t choose them over Amber. She was the most precious thing in the world, and even though she drove him near to losing control and becoming a beast, he would never leave her side.

He looked down at their joined hands as they walked, constantly aware of the soft feel of her fingers against his knuckles and the warmth of her palm on his. He had never held anyone’s hand quite this tightly or been so afraid of losing them.

Never.

They passed through the open doors and into the main vestibule of the house. The wide stone staircase in front of him split at the back wall, heading left and right up to a balcony on either side. A huge chandelier hung from the high ceiling. He had always run under it as a child for fear of it falling on him. The dark red walls echoed the colour of blood. It was exactly as he remembered and it hurt to see it again.

His family watched from the shadows. He could feel eyes on him, intent and threatening.

It was a struggle to find the strength to keep moving, to head into the house in search of his parents and face his family. Amber’s hand squeezed his. He didn’t dare look at her but was silently thankful for the show of support. He must have failed to control his feelings for a moment and she had sensed the sorrow and pain beating in his heart. The fear.

He walked forwards, waiting for his family to make themselves known. It had been so long since he had set foot in the house but it still felt as though he belonged. Even though he knew that they wouldn’t welcome him, he couldn’t help hoping, imagining, that they would. It was all he wanted in his heart. He wanted to return to his family.

His gaze moved to Amber.

He wanted to be loved and no longer alone.

“Remain silent, no matter what happens,” he said and she nodded. “I will handle it. I will not allow anything to happen to you.”

Kearn took another step into the house and no fewer than twenty of his kin stepped out from the doors to his right and left. They filed in and blocked his way in those directions but he walked forwards, undeterred.

Another two dozen walked down from above, barricading the stairs and leaving only the exit open to him. He stopped under the huge crystal chandelier. The crowd on the stairs parted and a broad-built man stepped forwards. His black eyes narrowed in contempt and then bled to red. Kearn refused to rise to the threat. It sickened him but he lowered his head, acting humble even though the man bore no title and was only one of the many serving families within his bloodline.

Amber moved closer to Kearn.

Strength rose within him, brought about by a need to show his family that he was still the man they had once known, and that he had only grown stronger in their time apart. He wanted to put them in their place and teach them never to look down on him. His other hand curled into a fist, trembling with power as it had done back at his apartment. He wanted to paint the walls a fresh shade of red.

Amber’s heartbeat echoed in his mind, a reminder that he couldn’t allow this to become a bloodbath. He wouldn’t be able to fight them and protect her at the same time.

For her, he would humble himself.

Only for her.

The vampires closed in until they were only ten feet away, some of them moving to block even the exit now. Their eyes changed as one, burning red with their hatred and lust for blood.

Amber clung to his arm, her heart thundering against it and her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He clutched her hand tightly and told her through their connection that she was safe. He would protect her with his life if it came to it. It didn’t calm her. It only made her worse. She tugged on his hand, urging him back towards the door. She wanted to leave but he couldn’t allow it.

The men all took another step towards him, the broad-built one leading the way. He looked like a guard, a man who loved nothing more than violence and bloodshed. The man bore his fangs. Kearn’s eyes changed and he growled, his other hand going to Amber’s shoulder and moving her behind him. His senses swept out in all directions. The vampires surrounding him snarled. The sound sparked his own desire for blood into life and it rose to meet the threat as he readied himself, tensing and calling every ounce of strength he had so he could meet the first attacker head on.

The man stepped forwards.

Kearn narrowed his eyes. Amber clung to his back, her fingers twisting his black shirt into her fists, and her body shaking against his. Her heartbeat was off the scale, pounding in his blood and demanding he protect her and keep her safe.

He lowered his other hand and focused his power there.

He hadn’t come here to shed blood, only to ask for assistance. He didn’t want to fight but they were leaving him no choice. His heart reached out with that thought, running through the house, searching for someone who would hear it and listen, and believe him.

He only wanted somewhere safe.

Where safer than his home?

The man launched himself at Kearn and Kearn brought his hand around to face him. The world stopped before he could unleash his power, leaving the man hovering in mid-air.

Sheer confusion distorted the man’s face and then he dropped to the ground in a heap, writhing and crying out.

“Allow my son to pass.” The deep voice boomed around the vestibule. A shiver of recognition bolted through Kearn. He had been on the receiving end of such anger before in his lifetime. Kearn’s gaze shot up to the balcony on his right.

Father.

His father looked down on him, strands of his long silver hair brushing his slim handsome face, and his green eyes full of fire and the fierce anger held in his words.

The vampires around Kearn immediately moved away, disappearing into the rooms they had come from and leaving just the man on the floor. He continued to writhe. Kearn’s father had heard his call and had come for him. His own father. He had helped him and had protected him. He had done to the man what Kearn had wanted to but feared. And he had called him son.

It honoured him to hear his father use such a word for him.

Kearn dropped Amber’s hand and went down on one knee, bowing his head and pressing his right hand against his chest.

It honoured him to have his father come to his aid.

“What business have you here?” The anger had gone from his father’s voice but Kearn sensed it still in his blood, a connection between father and son that was inerasable.

He kept his head bowed.

“I come to ask something of you, my honourable master.” Those words were easy to say. Respect for his father had always made Kearn humble before him.

“Enter then, and ask of me what you will.”

Kearn rose to his feet. His father walked down the stairs, his long black coat flowing from the waist down and trailing behind him. One day Kearn would wear such clothing. The uniform of a retired Venator. His father turned the corner on the stairs in front of him, all grace and nobility, an air of pride and power about him that Kearn could only wish to achieve. The silver-blue detailing and bright buttons on his father’s coat gleamed in the light from the chandelier.

Kearn bowed his head again when his father reached him and Amber, and sensed his father’s eyes settle on her. He would have realised long before arriving at the scene that she was human but he didn’t say anything about it. Perhaps it was his years as a Venator, a protector of humans, holding his tongue about what Kearn had done by bringing Amber into the house of Savernake.

His father walked on towards the doors to the left of the entrance and Kearn turned and followed. Amber hurried to be beside him, close enough that their hands brushed as they walked through the black painted gallery that led to the main reception rooms of the house. Kearn could sense her desire to have him take her hand again but he couldn’t, not in front of his father.

Light shone in through the rows of tall windows to his left, illuminating the paintings on the black wall opposite. Family portraits. His eyes trailed over them as he walked. His grandfather and grandmother, painted beautifully for the time they had been done many centuries ago. His father, standing tall and noble beside his seated mother against a backdrop of the house and grounds. The vision of her hurt him. She was beautiful, delicate, a pale rose that his father cherished and with good reason. Kearn had never understood why his father doted on her so much, bent to her will and gave in to her every whim, until he had met Amber. For Amber, Kearn would do anything. Whatever she asked of him, he would make it his mission to do it. She ruled him absolutely.

Kyran looked proud in his painting. Kearn had sat for his portrait at the same time, when they had reached twenty in human years, only a year before the events that had led to him becoming a Venator.

He looked away when he reached the space where the next painting should have hung. It pained him to see it missing and to see the scratches in the plaster. Anger still emanated from them. Hatred. He had hurt his mother so much that he deserved nothing less than her eternal damnation of him.

Amber’s gaze fell on him. She didn’t say anything but he knew she had seen the empty space and the plaque beneath that bore his name. Kearn Savernake.

Outcast.

Murderer.

His father opened the dark double doors at the end of the gallery and strode into a large black-walled reception room lavishly furnished in red and gold. Memories of playing with his brother in the room assaulted him but he pushed the pain deep into his heart, locking it away.

Kearn stopped near the door and waited for his father to seat himself. His gaze followed his father’s back as he crossed the room to the two gold coloured antique couches that stood facing each other in front of the elegant black marble fireplace on the wall opposite him. When his father was seated on the couch to the right of the fireplace, furthest from him, Kearn took measured steps forwards, leaving Amber at the door, and came to stand before him. He couldn’t sit on the couch behind him, opposite his father. Not without permission. Even then, he wasn’t sure if he would. He didn’t deserve such an honour.

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