Beloved LifeMate: Song of the Sídhí #1 (4 page)

For the first time in his adult life, his gut clenched in horror and he thought he was going to throw-up as her blood poured over his hand.

~ ~ ~

I struggled to breathe, but every breath was searing agony, ripping through my chest. The harsh smell of my own blood was overwhelming. The hard floor felt wet and cold against my back. I shivered and pain tore through me. My gasp gurgled in the silent room and I faintly heard the whistle of air pushing through the hole in my chest.

After the synth named Chi’Kehra my lifeMate I must've blacked out, because I didn't remember hitting the floor. I dimly remembered gentle hands lowering me, but I knew it must've been my mind playing tricks on me. Chi’Kehra would never have touched me, much less held me with tender care.

Even if I lived, - which I seriously doubted - the Chi’Kehra would never accept a halfling as lifeMate. The thought hurt. As Sídhí, he only had a single chance for a lifeMate and I was it; refusing me meant he would never have a bonded mate.

If I'd had more strength, I would've snorted. Here I lay in my own blood, a mortal injury he caused, and I worried for him. I blamed the synth crystal; it had released the Sídhí equivalent of a triggered emotional response within me.

The synth crystal sure screwed-up this time.

Elves and vampires were like oil and water; opposites that didn't tolerate the other, staying as separated as possible.

Hatred between the two races had caused the Great War. It had pushed the – now dead - Chi’Kehra into experimenting with synth crystal on living creatures. Chameleons happened to be one of the intelligent species he tested. The result of his experimentation was a new race. A race of creatures so violent, he couldn't control them.

Before the experiment, the sentient chameleons were a harmless race living deep in the mountains on Sídhí. He took thousands of the peaceful little people and Changed them by adding synth crystal to their blood. Once the synth mixed with their blood, they mutated into a nightmare on two feet. They were called umbra and lived to kill.

What the Chi’Kehra created to destroy all the vampires nearly destroyed every last person on Sídhí. A more hideous monster never walked on the face of Sídhí or Earth.

I heard a small sound next to me and my rambling thoughts stopped.

I knew without opening my eyes he was leaning over me. It was odd, but I couldn't smell him. All I smelled was the iron tang of my blood. I hated the thought of opening my eyes. I knew, without a doubt, what I would see. His eyes would be merciless and cold as they looked at me with disgust and hatred. Then he would formally reject me. Rejecting me, before killing me, was the honorable Sídhí way of doing things.

I couldn't bear the thought of being rejected by the one person who was supposed to accept and love me without reservation. The thought of his rejection horrified me and I felt a burst of pain. It felt like my chest was ripped open even farther and my heart crushed into pulp.

I sobbed and felt tears roll down my temple and into my hair. I knew the reality of my emotions. It sounded insane that I wanted my killer to love me, but I did. It was all the Ancient One's fault. I hated them for the way my synth made me feel. They tinkered with things best left alone.

Somehow, when the Ancient Ones created synth crystal, they made it meld not only with our cells, but other things. After the synth sang, our blood cells released a trigger activating a physical and emotional response toward our lifeMate. This trigger pulled lifeMates together. It literally caused a chain reaction that made us want our lifeMate.

I had always accepted the fact I would find my mate, fall in love, and bond instantly. I thought the Ancient Ones had been blessed by God with the knowledge of how to create the synth crystal.

Bonding with a lifeMate was a true blessing from God. But knowing my lifeMate planned on refusing me was pure hell.

Finally, I couldn't stand waiting any longer. I cracked my eyes open.

“Eek!” I shrieked in terror or I tried; the sound gurgled past my lips, sounding rather pitiful.

Crouched above me was a black monster, an umbra. Fine black hair, like that of an otter, covered its body. Its eyes were black bottomless pits. It hovered closer, sniffing my blood. Its small nose twitched.

The mouth of the creature transfixed me. Sharp teeth made for ripping prey into shreds glared down at me. A long black tongue flicked out, warm and wet it licked the blood from my face. It leaned ever closer; I felt its soft breath against my damp face.

I sucked in air, struggling with the simple task, unable to get in enough air for an ear-aching scream.

The room remained silent, except for the whistling gurgle of air rushing in and out of my punctured lung. With each strangled breath, I felt like my lifeMate had shoved a metal fence post through me. He might as well have. It would've been a much quicker death.

I cursed. My mate couldn't bring himself to finish the job and kill me with his own hands. No, my lifeMate didn't want my blood on his hands. Instead, he gave me to his pet umbra for dinner.

I snarled, baring my teeth at the monster hovering over me. Black eyes grew big and its mouth dropped open. I didn't wait for it to bite me. I did the only thing I could do. I ported blind.

God forgive me; porting blind was suicide. When a person ported without a destination in mind, she might end up in the middle of a tree. It was the first lesson every parent taught their child, but if I didn't want to get eaten alive, I had no choice.

I aimed for the farthest distance I could go. I was only a few years past puberty so I couldn't go far. Normally, twenty miles was my limit, but as bad as I was injured, I'd be lucky to make it a full mile. That wasn't far enough, but it was the best I could manage.

I disappeared from the warm room and reappeared in thin air, ice cold thin air.

I fell through the sky and fear raced through me. Thankfully, the port was more than my mangled body could handle. My eyes rolled up in the back of my head.

My last terrified thought before I fainted was filled with relief: I wouldn't be forced to see my lifeMate's face as he rejected me. I figured it was a good thought to have in my brain when I died.

~ ~ ~

The sound of my chattering teeth briefly woke me up. There was snow everywhere. Big fluffy clouds bloomed behind the bare branched trees spread high above me. I knew I wasn't in my right mind, because the clouds looked pink.

I shouldn't be alive, but even young it was hard to kill a Sídhí without chopping her head off.

I fainted and a loud sound woke me. It couldn't be my teeth chattering. It was much too loud. Though, the pain-filled sound fit my state of mind.

The sound grew louder, developing into an agonized roar.

Darkness sucked me back under.

I woke. It was still freezing. I curled my fingers in snow. I'd gone past agony and into a state that was beyond description. My entire body felt like a hundred knives were ripping into me, shredding me into little pieces over and over again, ripping through bone and muscle.

Something warm gently touched my face.

My eyes flickered open at the soft caress.

I wished I'd kept them shut.

Chi’Kehra hovered over me, his handsome face contorted. Whether it was rage that I didn't die or grief that I still lived, I didn't know.

“LifeMate,” he snarled. For an elf, without the fangs of a vampire, he did a fairly good snarl.

My eyes went black and I didn't need to worry about the hatred in eyes as he glared at me.

~ ~ ~

Her eyes briefly fluttered open.

He choked back a hiss of fury. Unable to kill the one person he wanted tortured and ripped into a thousand pieces, he ordered the healer closer.

The petite healer hesitated and he bellowed his fury at her. He wanted to destroy everything in sight, but it wouldn't help matters.

His guards tugged at his arms, urging him to back away, but he refused to budge.

The healer dropped to her knees beside his mate, whose lifeblood soaked the snow red. The slender hands of the healer touched blood covered skin and she shook her head; regret twisted her face.

Chapter: Prisoner

I woke-up warm. My fingertips brushed against soft sheets.

Memories jumped randomly through my head: an elf, a gateway, blood, eerie music, green eyes... With no order to the bizarre mess of images and words, I struggled to string them all together.

My body hurt. I dredged the memory from my mind and realized it wasn't the sharp screaming agony of before. It was an ache, like a twisted ankle that had been wrapped too tightly. I relaxed thankful the screaming agony was no more.

I remembered a soft musical voice, floating through my mind, saying she healed me as much as possible and ordered me to rest. The memory didn't make sense. The healer at Trellick Castle was a man. The voice was definitely female.

I sighed, trying to put all the jagged pieces together.

The softness of the bed cushioned my body, giving me time to think. Slowly, like pulling a stubborn mule up a hill, I pulled my thoughts together.

I smelled blood. The stench of my dried blood triggered my memories. Suddenly, everything fell into place. The Chi’Kehra kidnapped me then tried to kill me, more than one time. First with a sword and then he gave me to his pet monster.

I struggled against the fog strangling my thoughts. My life depended on making my mind clear enough to port. I focused, aiming far away, but nothing happened.

I slumped into the bed. I was either zapped out of strength or he chained me with silver. Other than standing next to a live gateway, binding me with silver was the one certain way to nullify my natural abilities; silver would force the synth crystal in my body to partly shut down and not work properly.

I slowly opened my eyes, looking past swaths of a pearl colored satin I glimpsed a high sculptured ceiling. The edge of the canopy dripped with pearl teardrops. I turned my head, waiting for the pain to explode, but it remained at a dull throb.

I had either been out for days and my body healed, which was not likely with the kind of wounds I had. I was too young to survive that much damage without falling into a month-long healing coma.

A healer was the only other answer I could think of. I really couldn't believe he allowed me to be healed. A Sídhí healer, a person who healed by touch was rare and in high demand. Shock rippled through me at the thought of him allowing a healer near me. I had been on the very brink of death. Only an extremely strong and gifted healer could have kept me from dying.

I looked around the bedroom. Other than the color scheme of cream, brown, and gold, it was nearly identical to the first room. Paintings and works of art were scattered around the large room. Large flower arrangements graced every available surface, predominately roses of every shape and color.

An empty chair sat next to my bed. No doubt my guard was taking a break.

I realized this might be the only chance I had to escape. Once I was well enough, he would chain me. I knew either death or chains were in my future.

My entire life, I've heard the horror stories about the – non-Trellick Valley – pure-blood elves that ended-up with vampire lifeMates. The vampire mate was either chained or kept in a secluded silver room.

I shifted and stifled a gasp. Yeah, they might have healed me, but I still hurt! Healers knitted bones and skin back together, but most healers only healed the major damage.

I gritted my teeth and swung my legs off the bed, allowing the momentum to help me sit up. After my eyes stopped going black, I glanced around the room with my heart racing in my chest, but no one rushed in. From the look of the dishes, books, and papers scattered around the chair, whoever had been guarding me had settled in for a long wait.

That meant I'd better hurry. Whoever it was wouldn't take long.

I shifted off the edge of the bed. This time, I couldn't silence the soft whimper of pain as I stood up. My eyes turned completely black and I swayed.

Strong arms wrapped around me, keeping me from hitting the floor. Chi’Kehra. I knew it was him. My face lay against his shoulder and his spicy cinnamon-like scent surrounded me.

He pulled me closer against him.

For a split instant, I allowed myself to dream that he wanted me. I pretended he wasn't the Chi’Kehra, but an unknown elf who didn't consider me – a halfling – an abomination.

I've never been one to believe in pipe-dreams so my dream didn't last long.

“Shhh, don’t struggle,” he ordered.

I cringed.

His voice was deceptively soft, but I heard the despair in it. He had already lost all hope.

There was no changing the fact: I was a halfling and he was the Chi’Kehra.

I was nothing more than a horrible skeleton in his closet, a secret he would do anything to destroy. He must have hated me more than any living person he'd ever come into contact with. The synth crystal which sang in his veins had not been strong enough to overcome his hatred of what I was.

“Let go,” I said, pushing at his chest. Pain throbbed through my jaw at the movement and my words came-out in a slur. Stupid idiot. That's what I got for talking with a broken jaw.

I pushed again, trying to pull out of his embrace, but my body ached in protest, sending sharp little pains through me.

He loosened his hold and my feet brushed the floor. Pain shot-up through my hips. I whimpered. I hurt all over. How many bones had I broken when I fell out of the sky?

His arms tightened around me and I cried-out in pain.

I heard his teeth click together and he hissed an apology. “Sorry.”

His arms loosened a bit, but still held me prisoner against him. It surprised me his hold was so gentle. Why would he cradle me against him with such care?

It sounded exactly like something one of the devious elves would do. Yeah, no doubt, he would convince me he wanted me then throw me in a dungeon. Elves had a wacky sense of humor.

He shifted me in his arms, his words coming soft as he brushed his head near mine. “It’s going to hurt, but I’m going to pick you up and put you back in bed.”