Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) (40 page)

“I’m becoming fond of ‘dog’.” Sorin twisted the sword a little.

The vampire screeched. “There’s a needle—” He gasped. “In the bag, there’s a needle. Attach it to the—the side—”

Sorin turned the cylinder in his hand as Ahote passed him the needle.

“Oh by all that’s sacred, give it to me so I can attach it right.” Benic held out his hands.

Sorin gave him the contraption and watched him attach the needle. Where would he have to shove that thing? “Will this hurt her?” His stomach went flat. It was one thing to stab a vampire but Susan—well, he cared about her.

“Does it matter?” Benic handed back the syringe. “Expose her thigh and stab the needle into the front of the large muscle then decompress the plunger. The—the thing on the opposite end of the needle.”

Sorin pointed to a rounded knob at the end of the stick protruding from the syringe. “This?”

“Yes—yes.”

He glanced at Ahote. “Watch him.”

Susan’s breathing was labored as he sat next to her. “If she dies, Benic, so do you.” He pulled the cloak from her hip and ran his hand over her thigh. She didn’t even stir. He jabbed the needle into her soft flesh and pushed the plunger as instructed.

She bled a little when he withdrew the needle.

He wiped it with the hem of the cloak. “How long does it take to work?”

“Hours for improvements, but I’ve never given it to her race so I’m taking a guess.” Benic set his head onto the floor and stared at the sky. “There’s a flask of willow bark tea in the bag too, if you didn’t break it in your attack. It will help her fever.”

Ahote reached over to hand Sorin the flask.

He settled Susan against his legs and pulled the cork with his teeth.

She swallowed reflexively as he poured small drips in her mouth.

“Can you remove the sword now? It—it’s quite uncomfortable.”

Sorin chuckled. “No escape for you. Not until she’s better.”

Chapter Forty-Three

The Apisi lands contained more wildlife and ancient forest than the Payami. A deep river ran through it, fed from the snow-capped mountains.

Kele followed Peder toward a carved wooden gate set in the mountain. Her legs trembled with exhaustion. How would she ever climb back through the pass?

Peder jogged a steady pace but his tongue lolled from his muzzle, and he stumbled every once in a while. He never complained, though a slight droop bent his shoulders and ears. His will strengthened hers. He’d run a greater distance than she. All the way to the castle to rescue her then all the way back here. More distance than the two hunters they’d left at the Temple. For an omega, he bore responsibility well.

The doors opened as they approached, and three hunters in feral form met them. “Who’s this, Peder? Did a stray follow you home again?” One of the guards offered the omega a leather kilt.

Her ears perked. She didn’t like the idea of other females touching the omega. But, of course, they must have. She wasn’t that naïve. With his handsome face, soft voice and willing body… She shook her head. What was she thinking? His offer the other night in the bedroom didn’t mean anything to someone as experienced as Peder. He had just taken pity on her.

“She’s not a stray.” Peder shifted to his civil form and took the kilt.

The other two sniffed at her.

Her spine stiffened involuntarily as a nose came too close. She cuffed the guard. It was a reflex she’d developed living in her own den. She needed to set her dominance now before they found out she couldn’t shift. One never knew who they would meet in the future.

He jumped away and rubbed his offending snout. “A Payami bitch?”

“Sorin’s given me permission to accompany Peder.” She held out her wrist. “I carry his mark.” Squaring her shoulders, she met their gazes, mimicking her mother’s usual behavior. “Get the medicine, Peder.” She shoved past the guards into the Apisi den.

Her heart raced as she waited for a hunter to attack from behind. She’d heard many terrible stories about this pack.

The den was set in a canyon. Caves lined the two sheer walls that only went up another story with small landings and stairs. She glanced around. The guards watched by the gate. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“Sure, as long as you don’t challenge my pack mates anymore. Smacking the guard was foolish. I can’t defeat him if he were to challenge you.”

“Who asked you to fight for me? I don’t bend over for anyone. I can’t afford to.” Her father always told her to act like the biggest shifter in the room. Most wouldn’t call her bluff. One day, though, someone would.

“I’d be disappointed if you did.” He grinned. Dark circles hollowed his eyes.

She wanted to hug and shake him at the same time for tying her emotions into a knot. She was a daughter of alphas, yet an omega brought her to heel. How pathetic.

A pretty female carrying a basket of laundry paused on her away out the gate and waved at Peder.

He smiled and nodded in her direction.

Kele growled and turned her back to him. How many lovers did he have, anyhow? And she thought Ahote a terrible flirt.

“The medicine is kept in the kitchen. This way.” He led her along the single corridor to a dead end of the ravine. The den was so much smaller than hers.

They entered the kitchen where a stunning, strong female worked with—moldy bread?

“Peder?” She set her work aside and hugged him. “Where have you been?”

“Lailanie, we’re in a hurry. Susan is ill. Sorin sent me to fetch some penicillin for her.”

The female’s expression fell flat. “Susan? Did she return?”

“No, they’re at the Temple.” Peder explained what had transpired in the last couple days.

The attentive female nodded as he spoke and stroked his arm.

Kele couldn’t tear her eyes away from their touch. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

Lailanie retrieved a bottle on the shelf above the hearth. “Take this one. It’s the first batch Susan made and should be the strongest.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “It’s all my fault. Sorin will never forgive me.”

“You made Susan sick?” Kele asked.

The female sniffed. “No, I convinced her to leave the den. It’s not fair. I’ve done everything expected of a good alpha female, and he doesn’t see me. She makes one potion and now she equates the Goddess.”

Drama grew in all packs apparently. It sounded as if Susan had not had a dull visit in the Apisi den.

Peder sighed. “Sorin mated Susan.”

Blinking her tears away, Lailanie nodded. “Good.” She wiped her face and avoided their gazes.

“We have to go, Lanie.” Peder squeezed her shoulder. The gesture shot another jolt of jealousy through Kele.

“I’m all right.” She gave them a thin smile.

Leaving Peder behind, Kele stormed from the kitchen and headed toward the gate. He didn’t belong to her. These emotions twisting her gut didn’t have any place within her body. Peder was not Payami and worse, he wasn’t a hunter.

Omegas were generous with their bodies. It was their position in the pack to ease stress, and the omegas needed dominant mates to protect them, to possess them. She cared to do neither for a male. She wanted to be the one that was desired.

Peder caught up with her. He carried a back satchel.

Against her will, she glanced at him. He appeared happy. No signs of guilt or—or, what was she expecting?

An old female waited by a cave entrance. She waved at them to approach. Unable to deny the elderly anything, Kele did as asked. Others from the cavern gathered around her.

Peder hurried to them, hugging his pack mates. “You all look so much better.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “I’ve been so worried.”

Better? They looked like death.

“We heard you’ve been off adventuring with the alpha.” A hunter ruffled Peder’s hair. “Having fun?”

“I’m surviving.”

Most laughed.

Warmth spread through Kele at the sight. Many around them were pale and some needed assistance walking, but all smiled. These were the sick that Susan had saved. If only they could do the same for the human. They needed to hurry.

“This is Kele. She’s from the Payami.”

His introduction froze her heart.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Even though Sorin’s temporary mark should protect her, one didn’t dangle bait in front of a hungry lion and not expect it to bite. Sore feelings had existed between their packs for ages. “I’m Susan’s friend.” It was the only good thing she could think to say.

“That’s a fine female to be friends with.” The elderly female patted her cheek.

A huge weight lifted off Kele’s soul. She took a deep breath. They wouldn’t eat her.

“We have to go,” Peder whispered in her ear.

She blinked and broke eye contact with the elderly female. “Yes.” They had to return to Susan.

Her parents would have a fit when they heard of her visit here. Unguarded, she’d been an easy target. She sighed and glanced at the omega male as he undressed to shift. Not completely alone though.

Chapter Forty-Four

The storm had passed during the time Susan slept. She lay across Sorin’s massive, feral chest, listening to his gentle snores. The soft fur comforted her in this rough environment—a living coat keeping her warm.

Her joints no longer burned, only a distant ache existed. The fever had faded. Vague memories of Sorin plagued her—him forcing a foul drink in her mouth, the crash of thunder mixed in with his roar, whispered prayers of him pleading for her to live.

Sun warmed her back and Sorin’s flesh her front. She didn’t want to move but thirst drove her to stir. She ran her hands over his shoulders. Her big, strong shifter who—had saved her? The memory of a few nights before flashed in her mind of Lailanie tending the pup who hadn’t been able to breathe easy. Sorin had taken care of her like pack. No one but her mother had ever tended to her when she’d been ill.

She stroked Sorin’s silky fur. She’d found her place on Eorthe. But why had she been so sick?

Her head seemed full of wool. She recalled being at the Temple then… Benic’s lab. The wine. Oh shit, the virus.

She jerked from Sorin’s arms. She had survived the mutating virus. Searching her teeth with the tip of her tongue, she found enlarged canines.

No.

She sat bolt up right and tumbled from Sorin’s chest. The thirst, the teeth—”No, no, no.” How else could she check her mutation? She touched her face.

“Susan?” Bleary eyed, Sorin reached for her.

She grabbed his hand. “What am I?”

His eyes sprang open. “You’re my female.”

“No! Am I a vampire?” A strong scent hit her senses, scattering her thoughts. Coarse and raw, it turned her stomach. “What is that stench?” She covered her nose. The closer she drew to Sorin the stronger it became. “It’s you.”

He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. Shaking his mane, he glared at her. “I’ve swam in mud, been sprayed by a skunk, and been out in the rain most of the night. What do you expect?” His scent altered a little into something sharper and prickly.

“Your smell changed. How did you do that?” Why hadn’t his stink bothered her when she lay across his chest?

Sorin’s ears perked forward. “You noticed the shift of my emotions through scent?”

“I guess I did.” She uncovered her nose and buried it in his fur. Past the exterior odor she found something musky, spicy like cinnamon and earth mixed together. Very sexy. Very male. This smell transformed from prickly to smooth and heavy. It soothed her nose. “You’re pleased.” Her senses were already mutating in less than twenty-four hours. She’d know what she was turning into within days at this rate.

“Yes.” His voice deepened as he traced her face with a claw. He shifted to civil form. The soft fur disappeared into his sun-kissed skin and his scarred muzzle reshaped to his scarred, serious face. His amber eyes remained the same though. No matter which form he wore, he was hers.

He swept her into his arms, crushing her to his chest, and his lips found her mouth. He kissed her as if drowning and she was his only air. Pinned in his embrace, all her worries vanished.

Somebody cleared their throat. “Can I eat Benic now?”

She twisted in Sorin’s arms.

Ahote lay on his side by the burnt-out fire. “I don’t mind watching if you’d rather I wait.”

“What are you doing here?” Last she remembered he had attacked Sorin.

He shrugged. “I had nothing else to do yesterday so I volunteered to help your mate.”

“Never mind him.” Sorin turned her face back toward him, his gaze drinking her in. “The fever’s gone. How do you feel?”

“Tired, achy, thirsty.” She’d never had someone so focused on her.

“Ahote, hand me the water skin.” Sorin ran his fingertips over her cheeks, her arms, then her thighs. “I knew you were a fighter. Knew you’d win against the illness.”

The Payami shifter brought the skin. “I’m going hunting. I could eat a whole stag—antlers and all.”