MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (18 page)

BOOK: MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles
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The tracks disappeared. He pulled the reins and doubled back more slowly. When had they vanished? He’d been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed until now.
There!
Picking up where he regained sight of the tracks, he followed them as they veered off the trail and to a small clearing just off the side of the road. Remnants of a camp littered the area. Grass matted down in the amber glow of the torch. He hovered his hand over the dead campfire and, in finding no warmth, eased his hand into the ashes. He smiled when a subtle warmth greeted his fingertips as he touched the earth.

Sweeping the torch around the area, he noted long marks in the dirt and held his breath. He pushed forward, reticent to follow, his feet dragging from an unseen weight. No more than a dozen steps inside the dense trees, he clenched his jaw. A pair of man’s boots. Upon closer examination, he groaned at the wide-eyed expression of his father. Alistair’s mouth hung open, the front of his shirt and coat dark with blood from his gashed throat.

James whirled away from the sight to catch his breath. “Stupid fool!”

Giving himself enough time to gain his composure, he inhaled deep and faced the body of his father once more. James knelt and fought the tears threatening to come forth. He stabbed the torch into the soft earth and leaves to keep it upright, and touched his father’s hand. The warmth still present in Alistair’s skin gave James
some
hope, as this indicated he hadn’t been dead for very long. His own experience with death at the
Fechtschulen
and over the years provided him at least that much information.

James shook his head and quelled the rising anger and sorrow, cursing his father again. Another bout of steadying breaths, he stood and paced the forest.

Cailin, it appeared, was much closer than he had hoped, but staying behind to give his father a proper burial would put that much more distance between him and her.

He growled at Alistair’s prone form. “Damn you, Father. I must tend to you later.” No longer able to stay the tears, James let them fall as he pulled fallen branches, brush and leaves over Alistair’s body. He grabbed the torch when he finished and started for his horse, but stopped. James twirled, reached through the debris into Alistair’s coat pocket and found what he sought. The laudanum.
If Cailin is wounded during this ordeal, this may actually help her.

He stomped out of the forest and shoved the half-filled bottle into his saddlebags before swinging into the saddle. Several yards down the road a white speck amongst the dirt gleamed under the moonlight. He dismounted and picked up a dirty kerchief stained with blood. Clenching his jaw, he mounted and continued once more at a steady trot, hoping the stains on the cloth were not Cailin’s blood.

* * * * *

 


Veh ata...adonai…mah— mahgen—
” Broderick growled.

“You are almost there, Vamsyrian,” Malloren encouraged. “I know you are weary from the incantations draining you. Just this one last time.”

Broderick nodded and took a deep breath to gather his strength. He had already been at these exercises for several hours with the prophetess, bringing up the shield, lowering it, casting the incantations over various objects and areas. However, the casting was limited to what he was. He could not cast such a protective boundary around himself without causing great pain. The incantation was designed to cleanse an area of evil, moving from the center point of the target outward to the designated boundary. Broderick disliked the idea that he was evil more and more with each demonstration of Jehovah’s power. He was anxious to learn the history of the Vamsyrians, to learn why he was considered evil other than in his choice to turn against God. Though Malloren Rune shared that the incantations would protect against any spawn of Satan, she insisted he would learn such things once he performed the incantations to her satisfaction.

Speaking slowly, Broderick extended his hand at the candlestick again and recited while envisioning a small bubble around the object. “
Veh atah adonai…mahgen bah-adee, k’vodee…u-merim roshee.

The subtle oppression resonated from the candlestick. He tried to touch the protected item and ran into the expected barrier…and the anticipated weakness rippled from his fingertips up his arm.

“Very good, Broderick,” she whispered.

He nodded again. “
Pitkhu li…sha-ahray tsedek,…avoh…bahm ve odeh yah
.” The request to remove the protection.

Zeh ha-sha-ar…adonai. Tsadikim…yavou bo
.” Broderick sighed as the oppressive atmosphere vanished.

“Excellent.” Malloren smiled at Broderick, stepped forward and recited the incantation to erect the boundary.

With a blow to his chest by an unseen but familiar force, Broderick flew across the small room and hit the stone wall with grunt. He bellowed in agony as an intense pressure crushed his chest. Malloren recited the last two parts of the incantation and his body fell to ground in a heap. After several minutes of panting, the pain finally subsided enough for him to breathe easy. He shook his head to clear the dizziness and glared at her. “What in blazes was that about?”

The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile. “The last lesson for this evening. Davina or Cailin can use the incantation, setting a desired boundary, to cast away any evil in their midst. As you can see, it is quite effective.” She held her palm up and again recited the first chant.

Broderick staggered to his feet and groaned from the oppressive force. “Was it really necessary, though?” He kept his distance.

“Recite the request,” she commanded.

He did as instructed and Malloren recited the final part of the incantation. The shield disappeared.

“Remember, the request alone is not enough to lower the protection. The person who originated the defensive guard must be the one to respond and remove it.”

“Or someone of the same bloodline,” he amended, based on what had she told him earlier.

“That is correct. Otherwise the protection is permanent, such as what has happened with the amulet you left with Cailin. Because the person who created the cleansing amulet has passed on or is unknown, it cannot be removed from the amulet.”

“And that particular protection was the cleansing,” he said more to himself, reviewing their lessons for the evening.

“Yes. You envision the item as cleansed instead of with a barrier. Cleansing burns. The shield repels. That is why—”

“Aye, why the amulet burned me instead of repelled me,” he grumbled. Again, the idea that he was
evil
did not sit well with him. He also pushed away the nagging thoughts that he may have not left much protection for his family after all, with the amulet only being cleansed. He was here now. He knew the incantations. He would be home shortly.

“I realize it has been a trying evening, but you must understand the weapon I have given you and its limitations.”

“Aye.” He sighed.

“This is how the incantation is used. Davina and Cailin should invoke the protection. Either you or they request for its removal. They should respond.”

“Understood.”

“Come, Vamsyrian.” Malloren turned and opened the door, exiting into the corridor. “I will show you to your accommodations.”

Another trek through the turning and twisting lamp-lit hallways, he became increasingly agitated. “And just how am I to find my way through this labyrinth on my own?”

She stopped and faced him, tilting her head as if pondering the idea. “Who says I will allow you to wander my halls alone, Vamsyrian?” Without waiting for his answer, she spun and continued through the maze.

Broderick grumbled after her.

They finally arrived at a door, which Malloren opened and stepped through. Broderick followed. The room was lit by more oil lamps. “Surely, you must have a monumental supply of oil at your disposal.” He smirked.

The prophetess pursed lips as if to suppress a smile. “I only light what I need when I need it. Since I knew of your coming, I made the appropriate accommodations for our duties this evening. I usually carry my lantern to light my way.”

 
She twirled around the room, showing Broderick his lodgings. A good-sized, box-frame bed was positioned along the far wall. A small table sat near the head of the bed with the oil lamp. The walls were bare. A crudely woven rug lay at the bedside. “Nothing as fancy as your grand fortress in Scotland, to be sure, but suitable for your needs I hope.”

He cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You already know it will suit.”

“Yes, I do.” She sauntered to the doorway and stepped into the corridor, pointing down the hall. “Walk in this direction, Vamsyrian, and you will come to another ladder. Ascend that ladder to the surface and you may exit to do some much-needed feeding.” Her eyes traveled down and up his body. “Be sure to make note where you emerged from these chambers so you may return.”

“Thank you, Malloren. For everything.”

“Do not thank me now, Vamsyrian.” She regarded him with cold eyes. “You may not be so grateful on the morrow.”

Broderick narrowed his gaze as she strutted away from the entrance of his chamber. Stepping forward, he poked his head through the doorway…only to find she had already disappeared through some hall or door…or into thin air. He harrumphed and frowned. She was right, though. He needed to feed.

Securing his satchel by slipping it under the simple box-frame bed, Broderick then headed down the hall in the direction she’d indicated, found the iron ladder and climbed the rungs until he reached the hatch. He scanned the night sky then lowered the door into the grass and surveyed the area. He had emerged on the eastern side of the circle of stones. He studied the arrangement of the monoliths, noted the alignment and started toward the circle, counting his paces until he reached the formation. After turning about-face, he counted as he paced forward and found the door again. That should suffice as a “map” of the door’s location. Broderick set off toward the establishment in the distance, his fangs already extending in anticipation of the hunt.

* * * * *

 

“This is completely unnecessary, Jasper.” Cailin inwardly cursed at the fear in her voice.

Her captor grinned as he continued to re-tie her hands in front of her. They had stopped to make camp for the evening. Jasper had led her off the path, several yards from the road over a shallow rise, and settled them behind the mound so as to be hidden from any passersby. With his bedroll laid out and the horses secured, Jasper pulled her to the ground with him.

“Please, I promise I won’t try to escape.”

A raspy chuckle brushed her cheek as he finished tying the rope around his body, securing Cailin to his person. “Ye must think I be daft if ye expect me to trust ye’ll stay the night. Ye shall be tied right by my side so I can get some rest without worryin’ about ye troddin’ off on yer own.”

Unbeknownst to him, he was leading her straight toward her goal. So if she protested too much—and if by some remote chance she was able to talk him into letting her sleep alone, he would be suspicious by the morning when she didn’t try to escape. But having to sleep in such close proximity of his stinking and vile presence was something she didn’t think she could abide.

To her disgust, he scooted close behind her, nestling his groin against her bottom.

“Hmmm.” He nuzzled her ear.

Cailin veered away, struggling to stave off his attentions, but Jasper grabbed her throat and squeezed until she stilled. His other hand clutched her skirts and she panicked…and not just because he trod upon territory she despised him exploring. Fighting against him in spite of the gagging hold he had on her, Cailin failed to keep his hand from creeping up her leg and finding her prized possession.

“Oy!” he exclaimed when he came in contact with the knife she had strapped to her thigh. She cried out when he ripped it off her. “Thought you could sneak that in, did ye?” He laughed maniacally. “Ol’ Jasper did good by havin’ his way!”

Cailin’s spirits sank.

Jasper chuckled and bile rose to her throat as he ground his erection against her backside. “Relax, lassie.” He growled and grunted as he continued to rub himself against her. “As much as I want to—” He grunted again. “Bury my cock in yer sweet body.” Another grunt. “Angus has made it very clear he’s to be yer first.” Jasper chuckled and hissed in her ear, “But he also promised to let me have ye when he be done.”

Cailin squeezed her eyes shut against the pain of him gripping her throat and his lewd actions behind her. His bucking increased and his hand eased from her neck, but his clumsy hands found her breasts while he continued grunting and finally shuddered his release. Lying spent behind her for several moments, Jasper eventually maneuvered his body within the bindings so they lay back-to-back. “Just a sampling of what is yet to come, lassie.” He laughed again.

Cailin lay very still, waiting, her eyes staring off into the darkness. Eventually, she heard the slow, even breathing of her captor in sleep. Only then did she release her tears. Trembling and loathing her situation, she silently encouraged herself to sleep.
You need the rest
.
How can you face Angus if you are exhausted?

Staring up at the waxing moon, she locked her gaze onto the partial silver disc in the sky as a focal point for her thoughts. Had her family been able to track her? Was James searching for her? She was sure her father had not yet come home, so would James even know where to find her? Did Maggie make it to safety?

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