Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) (41 page)

BOOK: Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1)
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Meat
. It made her mouth water. “I’m hungry too.” She drank the water in great gulps, trying to quench her thirst and fill her stomach at the same time.

Sorin pried the skin from her hands. “Not so much at once. You’ll make yourself vomit.” He set it behind him, out of sight. “Besides your sense of smell, is anything else different?”

“I don’t know.” Disoriented and exhausted from being sick, it was difficult to tell.

“Try to shift.” The eagerness in his voice was clear.

Her pulse fluttered in her chest. “How?” He may as well have requested her to see with her knees.

“You need to find an emotional trigger that will set off the shift. My trigger is when I recall the sound of my mother singing.”

“Uh—okay.” She massaged her temples, trying to relieve her growing headache.

“Try random memories.”

She wandered down memory lane—her childhood home, her family, going to college, developing DOUG, her co-workers. Nothing happened. If she couldn’t shift, did that mean she was a vampire?

Sorin hated them. He’d leave her and she would be lost on this monster-infested world, left to the mercy of Benic. Tears ran along her cheeks. She wiped them away, hoping no one saw.

“Don’t try so hard.” Sorin pet her hair. “You’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have asked you to try.” He kissed her cheeks.

“It’s too soon.” Someone spoke from outside their shelter—a male voice, weak and empty.

“Who’s that?” She started to move from Sorin’s arms but he pulled her back.

“It’s Benic. Stay here while I take care of him.”

Her heart flatlined. What was the vampire doing here? “Wait…”

Sorin didn’t listen. He crammed his large body into a pair of too-short pants and left her.

She crawled out after him and gasped.

Benic lay supine on the stone Temple floor, arms and legs splayed out. His pasty, pale skin contrasted against the dark stain of blood under his body. She couldn’t believe he lived since a huge sword protruded from his abdomen.

The chances that Benic had tripped and impaled himself on the huge weapon were pretty slim. She pinned Sorin with a glare. “You did this?”

He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms. “Yes.”

Benic rolled his head to face her. “I’m glad to see you survived.” He stared at Sorin. “Now, set me free, you over-paranoid, crazed alpha!” His shout echoed in the forest, sending a flock of birds flying in the trees above.

Sorin crouched next to the vampire. “What do you mean it’s too soon?”

“She survived the initial virus infection, and now she’s a carrier like the rest of us. I assume the changes don’t happen overnight. She probably needs more time—”

“To incubate.” She should be jumping for joy at being alive, not desiring to creep in a hole and cry.

She wasn’t human anymore.

She stared at her hands. They appeared the same but for how long? Her sense of smell had already changed. What would it be like to have super strength, to drink blood or shift?

If she knew which virus had won the battle, she’d be coping better. “How long do you think I have to wait?”

“How am I supposed to know? This was all theory until this morning. Now, get this forsaken sword out of my gut, Sorin. We had a deal.”

 

Sorin fingered the sword hilt. They
had
made a deal. Susan lived; so should Benic. He’d given his word. Then again…

Why should he let the vampire go? They’d broken agreements with shifters throughout history. He would be doing his people a service by destroying a vampire lord.

He glanced over his shoulder at Susan. “He infected you on purpose. He wanted to steal you away from me.” He couldn’t restrain the growl that followed his words.

Dark circles hollowed her eyes, and her long hair fell limp over her shoulders. The sickness had drained her but left her alive. She’d heal. Into what, though?

She watched his hand on the sword. “You infected me when you bit me as well.”

“Making you sick wasn’t my intention. I barely understand this virus even with both of you explaining it to me.” He twisted the sword a little.

Benic’s scream pierced his sharp hearing.

“I should kill you for putting her through this.” He yanked the sword from the vampire body and pressed the blade at his throat. “I’ll keep my promise for today, because you saved her. Next time we meet I won’t be so generous.” The sword felt awkward in his grasp. How did vampires fight with such bulky things?

Benic rolled onto his knees and rose on shaky legs. He clutched the wound. In a few days, the bloodsucker would be fine. “If she turns vampire, I want your word you won’t harm her.”

“I’d never hurt Susan. This wasn’t her choice.”

The vampire nodded, then shuffled to the Temple’s exit. “You might want to tell her that when you find her.”

“What?” Sorin spun around. The shelter was empty and Susan gone.

Chapter Forty-Five

 

The scent of roasting pig had Kele halting in her tracks. She met Peder’s questioning gaze. Who was cooking?

Outside the Temple, by the entrance stairs, Ahote guarded a fire pit in feral form. He waved.

Kele stared at the food, her stomach rumbled. “You went hunting?” When had she last eaten?

“There’s plenty for everyone.” The hunter’s ears fanned out as if pleased with himself.

She expected a different scenario upon arrival. The worst being Susan dead, but Ahote seemed far from grieving. “We brought the medicine. Where’s Susan?”

Someone moved in the shadow of a tree close to the pit. “She left.”

“Benic?” She recognized his voice. Glancing at Ahote, she posed a silent
what-is-he-doing-here
question.

He shrugged. “I found him sitting on the steps. Waiting. Clearly, he’s not in his right mind.”

“I’m not leaving until I know what Susan has become.” The vampire remained under the tree, unmoving.

Kele frowned at his uncharacteristic behavior. “What are you talking about?” The vampire seemed more subdued than usual, and she smelled old blood drifting from his area.

“Those myths Susan spoke of—the ones about humans changing into vampire or shifter after a bite—they’re true.”

Kele scratched her ear as she tilted her head. “And exactly how did you find this out?” She wanted to shake him. That’s why he’d stolen Susan away. He wanted to try out his theory without her permission. Arrogant ferret.

“She gave me a blood sample to study.” He shifted his body and clutched his stomach as if uncomfortable.

Pausing by the cooking pit, Kele gave Ahote a questioning look. What, by the Dark Moon, had happened while they’d been gone? “So there is a world full of people who could change species by a single bite?”

“If they survive the infection.” Ahote crossed his arms. “He forgot to mention that important fact.”

A jolt of revelation rocked her. “What have you done, Benic?” Susan had been so ill leaving the castle. Sorin had told her he assumed she’d caught the Apisi illness.

The vampire hung his head. “I’m tired of being alone. I don’t expect any of you to understand.”

“What happened? Where are they?” Her voice rose as she spoke. Two good people were missing and—and here Benic, Ahote and Peder sat having a pig roast.

“They’re fine.” Ahote poked at their cooking meal. “It’s done.”

“I gave Susan something to prevent her from dying. She left the Temple and Sorin went after her.” Benic sighed. “But she’s carrying both vampire and shifter viruses.” He turned his head toward Ahote. “I’m not leaving until I have a better idea of what she’s becoming.”

She shook her head. “Oh, Benic.” He always meddled in other’s affairs. She searched the surrounding woods but saw nothing. May the Goddess bring Susan light.

“Once we eat, I’ll return you home, Kele.” Ahote sliced some meat from the roast with his claws and handed it to her.

She juggled the hot food between her hands. Juices ran from it and the smell… If she could shift to feral form, she could have gobbled it like the others. Instead, she needed to bite and chew. “I’m not going back.” She spoke with her mouth full. “Not until I know of Susan’s fate. I have not traveled this far to run home now.”

“Spoken like a hunter, Kele.” Benic chuckled.

“A hunter who can’t defend herself.” Ahote sliced another piece of meat from the roast. “I tire of the wilderness and want to return home. There’s a bath and better company at our den. No matter how long we stay out here, we’ll still have to explain the events of last night to your parents.”

She grimaced and swallowed the lump of meat in her throat. This would make her parents even more determined to safeguard her future. Would they really send her away to some strange pack as a potential mate? Maybe she should have tried harder to find a male within her own pack. “I’m sure Peder will stay until his alpha returns.”

The omega was reaching in the pit for more meat, his gaze on Ahote as if waiting for the hunter to pounce. When she spoke, he halted. “I will.”

Ahote closed his eyes for a moment and wiped his muzzle. “I guess that means I must stay.” He sighed with a heavy heart. “I’ve protected your hide since the day you were set in your own cave. I’m not leaving you here with only an omega.” He glared at her then at Peder. “This better not be because you want another opportunity to pet him.”

“Ahote.” She flushed so hard her toes curled. She didn’t need reminding of her attraction to Peder. Her reaction at his den was enough shame to swallow, but she hated the way everyone kept touching him. If he returned home she’d never see him again, and maybe she’d regain some sanity. Her gaze drifted over to Benic, who sat so still.

 

Kele’s discomfort with her attraction to Peder made Benic chuckle in silence. If he laughed aloud, it would hurt too much. As it was, his hand kept his guts from spilling to the ground. The moist sensation against his palm made him queasy. He needed to find something to bind around his midsection if he ever planned to walk home.

His wound would eventually heal. He’d had worse. The indignation of being injured with his own weapon would take longer.

He couldn’t believe Sorin had kept his sword. The alpha didn’t have any use for the weapon. It was perfectly balanced for Benic’s hand. He’d owned it ever since he came to Amerigo over a hundred years ago. Finding a replacement would be time consuming.

“Benic?” Kele stepped under the shadow of the tree and knelt next to him. “You’re hurt.” She pried his hands from the wound.

Pain shot across his abdomen. He bent over and clutched his gut, breathing hard. “That’s an understatement. I’ll be fine with time. Don’t concern yourself with me.”

“Have you fed?”

Shifting his hips, he sat up straighter. “From whom? I doubt Ahote or Sorin would have offered since they’re the ones who impaled me in the first place.”

“Here.” She presented her wrist close to his mouth.

A shudder ran through his body. Instinctual hunger could drive a vampire mad. After his blood loss last night, it was a wonder he hadn’t torn out Peder’s throat upon his arrival. He possessed little love for the omega but he had to admire how Peder slipped into Kele’s affections so quickly.

For someone who was supposed to be submissive and fulfill everyone’s needs, Peder seemed to always get what he desired. That required skill.

“That’s very gracious of you, Kele.” He took her wrist in his hands, careful to be gentle, and brought it to his lips. With a meal close at hand, his hunger jumped up and roared. He met her stare as he pressed his fangs against her skin and licked the spot he planned on biting.

Her gaze softened.

With an expert’s ease, he pierced her. The salty flavor of her blood filled his mouth. Sucking at the dual puncture, he closed his eyes and moaned.

Kele’s quiet gasp was pleasure to his ears.

He could sense her leaning forward and deepened his feeding, taking longer, slower draughts. She tasted better than the finest wines. Rich and warm, her blood eased his pains. How easy to drain her, but he released his bite. His muscles trembled with restraint. She hadn’t quenched his thirst. A few more volunteers would be needed before his hunger was sated. With his thumb, he applied pressure to the wound and stopped the bleeding. It wouldn’t take long.

Licking his lips, he rested against the tree trunk, savoring the aftertaste. She rarely agreed to feed him.

Over her shoulder, Benic didn’t miss the glare directed at him from Peder. Let the games begin, little shifter. “Why would you feed me after all the wrong you think I have done?”

“Sorin has Susan back, and I forgive your misguided attempt at rescuing me from an unwanted mating.” She stared at her lap and picked at imaginary lint. Her pale hair fell across her face, hiding her expression. “You were a friend once.” She whispered the last sentence.

The words struck deeper than the sword. His smile faded, and he slipped his hand from her wrist. “I still am.”

Ahote coughed, choking on a mouth full of hog. He hit his chest and swallowed with some difficulty. “You have an odd way of showing it.”

BOOK: Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1)
5.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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