The Brethren Of Tavish [Vampire Coven Book 1] (16 page)

“When I die, make sure my children and their
children and theirs are looked after. It will be a comforting thought to know
when the time comes something, even a small part of me, remains with you.”

“I’ll watch out for them like I watch over
you.”

“Have you chosen two men for me yet?” she
asked.

Mercy didn’t care who they were, she had asked
Tavish to choose, she was in no hurry. She would think of Tavish any time any
man touched her. She already chose to retain those memories. Kia was hopelessly
in love with her two breeder men and Ryker. All the women were enamored with
Tate. The vampires took care of their charges. Love was a free spirit in
Tavish’s coven.

Tavish frowned.
“No, not
yet.”

It appeared to Mercy he was in no hurry either.
The thought made her happy. She would eventually like a child, but maybe not
yet. “Then tonight I’m all yours?”

“Yes.”

Mercy was laid back into a mountain of satiny
pillows. Tavish fisted her teddy and tugged it slowly from her, ripping it. Mercy
squealed; she had been fond of the garment. Then chuckled when Tavish said he
had something even sexier for her to wear. Or not wear. Most of the women
remained clothed, if you could call it that, in the coven. All
except
the pregnant women who wore a low riding loin cloth.
Tavish wanted to easily see their progress. The women didn’t mind because the
human men were forbidden to touch them and vampires were forbidden to drink
from them and it could get too hot.

“Is it lonely being a vampire?” Mercy asked.

“Is it lonely being human?” he countered. “We
all eventually have loved ones taken from us. My
kind have
more loss because we live longer. But we also get to love more. I weigh the
love against the death. My life has been enriched with both human and vampire.
If I had lived my normal lifespan as a human we would have never met. Who would
have saved you?”

“Was I born for you?”

“Or was I born for you?”

It was a good question. “If I were to bite you,
would you bleed?”

“Yes, but the blood would have been my last
meal.”

“I’m guessing Jarrod runs through your veins,”
she said a bit distastefully.

Tavish chuckled. “Yes.”

“What about sex, Tavish? Whose fluid ends up
inside me?”

“The fluid is mine, produced with the help of
the blood. But there are no viable sperm.”

“Sperm?”

“It’s what decides the sex of a baby.
Tadpole-like things that swim to your…ugh, I can see you wondering what the
hell tadpoles are,” Tavish grumbled.

“Why can’t the humans here read? I’ve seen
stacks of your books. My mother taught me some simple spelling, I’m not very
good at it; you know that. In my defense, there wasn’t much to write on in an
ice cave, but so many here have no idea what a book is. Humans here can’t
count. I asked one mother how many children she had and she lifted four fingers
as they raced around her. She had no concept of the word four. I can count. We
counted days, minutes and seconds. It’s like vampires are on the highest level
of the food chain, intelligent, and we are grouped with the cows and pigs. Even
the bugs that feed off us seem ranked higher.

“I love to share your memories, but you’ve
taught me so much. So much about my kind before all this happened. You said
once the ice age is over, we will go back to being somewhat of the way we were.
Won’t you teach us independence and how to cope until the world changes? Or
will we be animals to you? Will you rule the world, Tavish?
You
and your coven of men?
Will you grow in number until you’re in the
thousands?
Millions?
Feeding off us while we serve
you?”

Tavish sighed and sounded exasperated. He
muttered something under his breath about being more careful. “If I swear to answer
your questions tomorrow, can we do something else? My cock is killing me.”

Mercy reached down and wrapped her hand around
him. Tavish groaned. She began sliding her hand up and down his hot arousal.
She realized he didn’t have to answer for anything. His words made her
understand how important she was to him. She had been gifted with so much more
than his other humans. Knowledge was a reward and he shared his with her.

When he kissed her, he licked at her tongue.
Tavish sank an eager finger into her warm heat and Mercy jumped, not ready for
him, releasing him. Her insides were still dry and his quick action caught her
unaware, it had hurt a bit. Her teeth accidently nipped Tavish’s tongue. For a
second she tasted the metallic of blood. Mercy grimaced knowing it was Jarrod’s
blood. She pushed away from Tavish.

“I can’t,” she said. She saw Tavish’s
disappointment. “My cousin’s blood is in you. I’ve known him forever. It
wouldn’t be right. I would feel…soiled.”

Tavish lay back and groaned. “I won’t drink
from him anymore.
Never again.”

“Promise?”

Tavish squeezed her hand around his erection
once more. He was huge and hot. “Do I feel like I’m joking?”

“I’m sorry. But to have you in me down there
would be uncomfortable. I could rub you. That wouldn’t release any fluid in
me.”

“I have an idea.”

Mercy squealed when he turned to straddle her
face and she found his cock at her mouth. “But,” she sputtered.

“You want more memories. I want release.”

His erection was pushed past her lips. Mercy
settled her hands onto his firm ass. She wasn’t worried about this; this was
Tavish’s body, not Jarrod’s. When Tavish tasted her pussy she stiffened then
settled. Why not let him satisfy her? His lips were warm and soft, not overly
demanding to the point she thought he would eat her. Her mouth worked him in
return. His long length tasted uniquely of Tavish. She liked the feeling of
taking him so deep she gasped for breath. It made her concentrate on him alone.

Tavish found her clit and sucked and licked
until she writhed under him. The pleasure of her arousal was high. Even though
she had never been with another lover, she guessed Tavish was an expert after
centuries of practice. She groaned when his teeth grazed her nub. His tongue
dipped into her and lapped at her in sides. Mercy’s eyes squeezed shut when he
pushed his finger up into her behind. He hadn’t done that before. He was gentle
and coaxing. She could hear the few short words he whispered of how good she
felt. She was curious and as he moved in and out of her she decided she liked
the feeling.

With her first orgasm Tavish sank his fangs
into her thigh. She squeezed her fingers harder onto his ass. Mercy tried to
cry out but the sound was muffled. Her blood flowed into his mouth and his
memories filled her. She loved this part. His mind joined with hers. It was
like a visual caress.

Mercy relaxed as she was taken on a memory
voyage. Beautiful white capped mountains rose high in a distance. They looked
deliciously topped with frothy cream that was served some nights at dinner over
strawberries. Next, an astounding canyon came to mind with furry four-legged
creatures holding humans and packs on their backs descending lower. It reeked
of ancientness. Mercy could smell the air, taste the breeze. Faster and faster
came
the amazing and exciting images. Vaguely she was aware
when Tavish’s cock was gone from her mouth, but he still sucked from her and
warm wet fluid slipped across her neck. Suddenly she was in an ice cavern and
she wondered if Tavish would show her how he saved her.

A harsh memory abruptly assaulted her and Mercy
screamed when she saw a woman being pushed into a gorge. The woman’s arms
spiraled backwards as she fell, slow motion, forty feet to her death. Her face
lifted to reveal her terror. Her mouth opened in a desperate scream. Her small
body smashed onto a jagged ledge, bounced then settled.

Another image battered her of a woman led away
and left alone, sobbing, down a long frozen ice hallway. Her arms were lifted
in a pleading gesture. Most of her furs were taken from her. But the image
continued and the perception of someone simply walking away impaled her soul
with the cruelty. The women had been her cousins. Mercy’s heart grew cold.
Tavish wouldn’t kill women of childbearing years. Whose horrific memories were
these? Jarrod had been the last one Tavish sucked from.

Oh no.

Jarrod had killed them. He had murdered his own
cousins. They had pleaded with him and he had taken their lives because of her
father’s teachings. He would never change. Jarrod would kill her, too. Mercy
drifted into unconsciousness with Tavish at her ear now whispering it would be
okay. She wasn’t to fear. But she did. Her cousin was a cold-blooded murderer.

Chapter 9

Tavish was furious as hell. He had been so busy
sending Jarrod frightening images he hadn’t taken the time to search Jarrod’s
memories. Tavish knew there was cell memory in the blood of those he sucked
from and he would catch glimpses, but to have those images of the terrified
women’s last moments was infuriating. Then to transmit them to Mercy was
inexcusable.

The second they had slipped from his mind he
had been consumed by disbelief. Both scenarios had played out before he could
stop them; they had flashed so fast.
Why
had they come so fast?
Because Mercy had
tasted Jarrod’s blood.
It was
the only explanation, they were connected by blood. Tavish was astounded, in
all of his years this had never happened.
Cell memory
heightened by mixed blood with a human?
Tavish searched his memory. Did
humans experience memories after a transfusion? He would have to ask Caine if
he had heard of it.

Normally his mind picked up a person’s more
worrisome memories first. It was like a warning—a vampire security system in
case a thought of turning someone came to mind. It showed vamps a glimpse into
who their victims really were. The word ‘victim’ was a hard pill to swallow
when he thought it. Were cows victims? Sheep, chickens, eggs? It made it easier
to kill when the memories spilled with human blood as most people had some recollection
or malicious thought in their mind that would be construed as atrocious. The
vampire’s guilt was lessened.

Mercy’s worst memory was of touching herself.
That had been her biggest crime. Her innocence was captivating, her blood more
flavorful than any sustenance. It was why vampires yearned for a virgin’s blood
but not normally their death.
The sweeter the thought, the
more pleasant the taste.
A virgin was always flavored with a hint of
their unknown sexual longing when they reached of age, a want or desire that
teased. Their minds were already open to temptation when they matured.

That was why vampires never bled a child. A
panicked moment of beheading a friend’s doll by accident when removing dolly
clothes,
wasn’t malicious intent. An image of wetting the
bed in shame was something even a vampire would soothe and not harm over. It
was exciting to feed when thoughts of murder or rape or treason filled a
person’s thoughts. The emotions heightened the taste.
Or
thoughts of lust.
It sharpened the feeding frenzy.
A human’s
version of champagne and sex or eating strawberries and whipped cream from each
other’s mouths.
Sex and food seemed to go hand in hand.

Tavish listened to the sound of Mercy’s heart
beating. He hadn’t taken much blood from her. She wouldn’t need Caine’s drink.
The amount had been little more than a day’s menstruation cycle. Since she
wasn’t menstruating her blood would be normal by morning. Tavish pulled her
closer. The urge to kill Jarrod was overwhelming, but he knew the man would be
helpless for a few days. Tavish wanted to know how Mercy felt before he gave Jarrod’s
miserable hide to his Anivamps. There would be nothing merciful in his release.
They could hunt and kill the bastard like the dirty dog he was.

Morning would be soon enough to put the sick
prick in chains. Tavish would dump him across the fence after first light. This
would be one hunt he would enjoy hearing screams of terror.

Morning found Tavish pacing his room. The anger
he had felt towards Jarrod had been so great he had slipped from Mercy in the
night to throw the man into chains in a small box-like structure. The wood was
impossible for a mere human to break from, but Tavish found certain
satisfaction in chaining the bastard. Jarrod had barely moved when flung over
Tavish’s shoulder.

“What will you do?” Mercy whispered from the
bed.

“Kill him.”

Mercy began sobbing. “Why would he? It was so
cruel. They looked so scared.”

“You said he was a follower.”

“Yes.”

“He cannot be allowed to live. It would put
every female here in danger including you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Can’t you make him
stop being what he is?”

“He’s a resister. If I could spare his life for
you I would try. But a man like that would crush little Perrin simply for being
female.”
He would crush you.