SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS (31 page)

Gently he laid her down on a wrought iron lounge and reached for one of the Blood Orchard blooms. He would use the raw essence and slather it on the wound to stop the bleeding. She was bleeding out so fast it frightened him. She wouldn’t heal in time.

He gathered the essence from one bloom, and then another, swiping her wide-open wound with it from his fingers. He gathered more essence and repeated the treatment over and over.

The wound started to close, and his eyelashes flashed with the relief he felt; however, she had lost too much blood.

He picked her up and shifted once more, this time to his bedroom suite, where he laid her now unconscious body on his bed. He kept a bar in the sitting area of his bedroom, and that was where he kept the blood she needed. Luckily he had procured enough of a supply. He retrieved it and went to her.

“Shawna—lass…do you hear me…?”

Her eyelids fluttered and when she actually smiled for him, he wanted to cry. He hugged her to him. At that moment all he wanted was to shift with her far away, somewhere where Pentim and demons and dangers couldn’t touch her.

He lifted her into a partially sitting position, and she moaned an objection. “I’m sorry, love, but you need to drink this now…”

* * *

Okay…here it comes, passing out…can’t…won’t…did.

I looked around and saw the blood—it was pouring out of me…

The entity had sliced me open, caught an artery, and I could feel my life slipping away. Would I die and come back a bloodthirsty, full-fledged vampire?

Passing out now...again.

Came to, but can’t speak…where am I? Remember now.

Have I died and come back? If so, I will ask Chad to destroy me…

I felt him working over me. I saw his face just before I passed out…

Awake now, he is making me sit…making me drink…

Did I die?
“Chad…do not keep me alive…don’t want to live that way…”

He’s frowning at me. Why? Ah, of course. He doesn’t want to destroy me, but if I died and came back…? Would he tell me—would I know?

“You don’t know what you are saying.”

His voice is so soft and soothing. I love his Scottish accent, but it’s hard to hold on…I feel like I am spinning out of control…I think I am going to pass out again…

I want to pass out. I want to forget how helpless I was…my mirror…

“Stay awake, lass—for me…that’s right…open those pretty eyes. Look at me and drink some more of this…”

“I…I will, but, Chad…my mirror—where…?”

“I have it safe, my love…here…next to you.”

He’s put it into my hands. The mirror didn’t work. Did I do something wrong? I am
not as powerful as I thought I was.
“Chad—it is supposed to stop a demon…the demon looks into the mirror and gets transfixed while I whisper the words…but…”

“She wasn’t a demon, at least not in the true sense. Shawna—I thought you realized, understood. Kenneth must have tried to bring his mother back when she died. What he got…was some kind of electric energy and it was full of rage and hate…but not a demon, and even so, you did stall her long enough for me to plant my sword.”

He’s assuaging me with his words, with his eyes, so full with bright emotion. Does he love me? How could he—an immortal—love me, so weak? I was so full of myself, trying to take on the ‘underworld’ alone.

He is feeding me
pig’s blood. Not human blood—but blood all the same. Is he disgusted with me?

“That’s my lass…that’s right, drink up…you see, look…your wound has totally healed.”

“Did I die and come back? Am I immortal?”

He is laughing at me, but oh, I love the sound of him.

“You didn’t die. Immortals—at least my brand of immortals—don’t die and come back. We just don’t age after maturity, and we can only die at the edge of a death sword.”

He’s kissing my forehead…that’s nice. What’s he saying now?
“But if you aren’t immortal, lass…I mean to make you so, for I damn well don’t mean to live without you.”

His sweet words are bouncing in my brain. I want so badly to shake off this awful fatigue I feel.

I’ve always thought I would face my father one day and come out of it—at least I hoped I could. But the weakness I now feel makes me doubt my future. I know now I just might not survive my father.

“He won’t have ye, lass.”
Funny…
Chad must have read my mind.
“He won’t, I tell ye now—my own Shawna love. I will have Pentim Rawley’s head and drain the last drop of blood from him and feed that blood to the heathens of hell!”

I know that he is capable of doing just that. I know that I might be capable if I can hone my skills—if I can train a little while longer.

The trouble is—I know I am running out of time.

~ Twenty-one ~

PENTIM SNIFFED AND glanced towards the river before bringing his attention back to Clara.

The moon was still enlarged although partially obscured by clouds—it still held enough light to illuminate the river walk outside the pub.

Clara held Squire Kenneth MacDunn in the shadows, pushing him roughly against a tall oak. Pentim sneered to himself as she ran her tongue over the squire’s cheek. She had the squire temporarily quiet and under her power. His eyes were glazed over as he glanced at Pentim and swallowed. He was in a trance, but Pentim could see that he understood what was happening. This one knew that he was in the company of vampires…

He had already told them a great deal. Apparently the good squire had been secretly playing with the power of the dark arts over the last year and a half. It had all started when his mother died and he discovered his young fiancée didn’t really love him. That set him over an edge he had been near for too long.

The squire had brought something of his mother back from the grave to punish his unfaithful fiancée, and that was what the demonized spirit of his mother did with vicious force.

However, someone this very night had destroyed his mother’s demon spirit, and that had driven the squire further into the madness—a madness that had begun quite some time ago.

And then the squire babbled Shawna’s name. He laughed wildly before he began to splutter uncontrollably. Apparently Shawna had rejected him.

Pentim looked the squire over, and his nose wrinkled with his displeasure. His daughter had been wise to reject this stupid human. Pentim already enjoyed the thought that she was strong and magical. He was looking forward to training her. Together, they would rule the vampire world.

“Where is she?” Pentim’s lashes swept his cheek. His voice was languid—quiet, but it held a force the Squire, even if he wanted to, could not resist. “Where did you see Shawna last?”

“In the cottage…m’mother’s cottage, but she is probably dead by now. M’mother sliced her open…” Kenneth said these words and then burst out laughing. The sound of his laughter was crazed and out of control.

Clara pulled a face and turned to Pentim. “He is very annoying. May I kill him now?”

“No. Get him to stop laughing. I have more questions.” Pentim decided that when the time came, he was going to kill this one himself.

Clara brought her hand back and slapped the squire hard across his face. It left a wide red welt of a bruise, and Kenneth started choking with sudden, sure fear as he looked from her to Pentim.

“Dead…you left her for dead?” Pentim inquired.

He stammered some incoherent words, and then as though suddenly aware that his answer might buy him time, he said hoarsely, “He…he…he won’t let her die…”

“He?” Pentim’s voice was harsh.

“MacFare—he isn’t normal…he had this sword. It disintegrated m’mother…” The words seemed to unhinge him, and he began laughing wildly again.

“Where is this cottage?”

Clara slapped him again. “Answer—you stupid fool.”

“Stockton…on Darby Road.” The squire began to giggle. He saw his death in her eyes, and then Pentim’s fingers were around his throat. He couldn’t breathe…

Pentim snapped his neck and left him to crumble in a dead heap at the foot of the oak. “Gather everyone—into the van at once. We are for Stockton!” he ordered Clara and turned to come face to face with a vampire he knew and often avoided.
Damon,
who
was a good six inches taller, broader, younger in appearance, stood quietly disdainful.

Pentim’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded his head. “Damon.”

“Indeed…that is my name.”

“As much as I would love to stay and chat with you…and I would because there are matters we need to discuss…I am in a bit of a hurry.”

“Are you?” Damon studied his fingers and then looked once more into Pentim’s eyes before casting a glance towards Clara.

Pentim noticed her intake of breath and her softening of expression. It irritated him. He had heard that Clara and Damon had once been lovers.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Damon. You don’t want to cross me.”

“Oh, but I think that I do, and probably shall—sooner than later.”

“What do you want?”

“I will give you a chance to get out of this intact, Pentim. You have a large, powerful clan. You don’t need Shawna.”

Pentim saw Clara stiffen. He could see this annoyed her. She was jealous. He smiled to himself. What the hell did Damon have to do with Shawna? “You know nothing.”

“I know she won’t be taken. You will only end by getting yourself or her killed. Is that what you want?”

“Get out of my way and stay out of this, Damon. I have the might to hurt you if you persist.”

“You
think
you have the might.” Damon’s grin was a sugar-coated threat.

“Damon…you would not like to be taken by my people.”

“Try—see if that is possible.”

Pentim’s eyes twitched. Damon was a loner. There was very little known about him, other than he was super-powerful. Pentim did not wish to get into a spitting match with him. “Clara—go and collect the others and meet me at the van.”

Clara had started to walk by both Pentim and Damon when Damon reached out and took hold of her hand. He put it to his lips and looked into her eyes under Pentim’s angry glare. “Clara…it pains me to see you with
him
.”

“I had no choice… You left me in the wind,” she whispered back.

“I didn’t want to. I gave you a choice.”

“I couldn’t do what you asked. I need blood, Damon, human blood, just as humans kill the cow and eat their meat. I usually only kill what I need. I am not you, and I can’t deny what I am.” She raised her free and shaky hand towards his cheek. “I wanted you to love me, but you don’t. I know you never will.” She pulled her hand from his and vanished into the darkness.

Pentim snorted and said, “So that is it. You have a grievance with me because of Clara. I did not steal her from you, and if you joined us…you could have her back.”

“I am here for one thing—to warn you off the child, Shawna.”

Pentim inclined his head. “We will meet another day, Damon—that is my warning to you.” Using vamp speed, he left Damon at his back—a very bad mistake.

* * *

Shawna woke up feeling refreshed and revived and found Chad’s arms around her. She snuggled in the bed and felt comforted. He had fed her the pig’s blood in slow stages, and then he made a potion—a drink from the Blood Orchard—and made her swallow it down although it tasted vile.

She looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven, which surprised her. She had thought it would be later—much later.

She hadn’t just awakened on her own though—something had shaken off her deep sleep. Pounding—heavy pounding below—at the front door. It started up again. Who could that be?

Chad was up and pulling on his gray jogging pants, an odd look on his face.

Shawna lay back and gazed at him dreamily. He was glorious to look at, with his hard, sculptured chest covered in intricate rune patterns. His hair was a mass of tawny shades of blond around his handsome face. “Stay here, Shawna. I’ll see who it is…”

She smiled warmly at him and snuggled into her pillows, but when a few moments went by and he did not return, she frowned and a worry set in. Was he okay?

She got up, threw on navy sweats, pulled on her sneakers, and padded down the hall and down a few steps, where she stopped short. She could hear him whispering. She could hear a young woman giggling, and then the woman said, “You never took back the gate card…so I thought I would use it tonight… Do you miss me, love?”

She didn’t hear Chad’s reply, but there was something in the air that felt like betrayal, and Shawna flinched.

She took the next step quietly and sat there, fully aware that she was spying. She could see that Chad was standing in the Great Hall, not quite fully in her view. The woman stroking his face was quite a beauty.