The Brethren Of Tavish [Vampire Coven Book 1] (22 page)

BOOK: The Brethren Of Tavish [Vampire Coven Book 1]
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Ursus had her nose wrinkled.
A smell only a mother could love.

“He won’t smell like Remo for much longer,”
Tavish said and chuckled.

That’s good, or you
would have to tie flowers around his neck for the other children to play with
him.

Tavish took the baby. He held him against his
chest enjoying his warmth. The boy should be his. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t
fair.

Master?

“I need to get back to Mercy.”

I love you, Tavish.

“I love you, too.”

Tavish tucked the baby in with his mother.
He then double-wrapped them against the cold.
A blizzard had
started up outside and the temperature had dropped. Tavish took to the sky.
Mercy needed him. He needed her more.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Epilogue

 

Tavish sat watching the rise and fall of
Mercy’s chest while she slumbered in their bed. It had been only five minutes
since her last heartbeat. His eyes closed briefly when he heard the telltale
thump. As she aged it would lessen.
Except for the last beat,
Tavish was only vaguely aware of the blip of his every ten years or so.
Mercy muttered something in her sleep and rolled over. There was a smile on her
face. Tavish could watch her forever. Her unmarred beauty was now completely
eternal.

Mercy was tired. She had done well. During her
last month in her last trimester all she wanted to eat was bloody raw meat. Tavish
had felt some concern, but Caine seemed interested and theorized the baby was
half human, half vampire. It would need both food and blood for sustenance.
Caine had been surprised the baby had even grown to term and hadn’t been
reabsorbed or sentenced to an embryonic lifeform for eternity.

Tavish knew Caine had been a bit worried the
embryo might mature while staying the same size then linger into a voice that
would eventually drive Mercy insane if not removed. Once removed, it would be
up to Tavish to end his only child’s existence. The idea was numbing, but he
would do what it would take for Mercy’s safety, survival and sanity.

They had all watched Mercy’s advancing
pregnancy with excited wariness. Caine had followed her around until Tavish was
surprised the man hadn’t insisted on sleeping with them in case he missed
something. The first kick of his infant inside her was felt with elation. His
babe was strong. Their hopes rose. Mercy’s belly expanded and it was, in
Tavish’s opinion, the sweetest pregnancy he had ever experienced.

Mercy had been good-natured, not prone to
outbursts. It was a common sight to witness her wandering the grounds with one
of the Anivamps. Lucile was now a favorite with many. Lovel caught sticks and balls
the children threw. Rhino kept to himself but seemed to enjoy being around the
coven as well. Druid scared the humans. They watched with amazement as Mercy
ruffled his mane and kissed his muzzle, but they gave him a healthy space.
Druid didn’t seem to mind. Tavish knew the big cat had added the interior of
the coven to his domain. Tavish had taken to calling him King of the Coven.

Tavish looked down into the sweet face of his
newborn son, Galf. Mercy had asked Tavish to name their child even before the
baby was born—girl or boy. She reminded him she didn’t know many children’s
names, having grown up in a family of forty. Though the irony of naming their
baby Dante after her father was tempting, Tavish had no intention of later
telling the boy he was named after a hypocrite. Mercy had been allowed life;
her son would have been murdered by his own grandfather. Galf was a good name.
Tavish had loved his father—he would be proud of his new family.

Galf stirred in his arms. The material he was
swaddled in was warm. The babe could generate body heat. When his son looked
into his eyes, Tavish smiled. He embraced his fatherhood with open arms and
knew now why his own father had died for him; he would do no less for his son,
the child of his heart. The babe stared back with clear blue eyes, Tavish’s
eyes. Thick white-blond hair covered his tiny head, sticking up here and there
in tufts. Tavish was happy he was blond like his mother. Galf was beyond beautiful.

“Well, little cub junior,” Tavish whispered as
not to disturb Mercy’s much-needed rest. “Are you a resister like your mother?”

Tavish’s direct gaze settled onto the boy’s
eyes. Tavish let his eyes glow bright white. He was startled when the babe returned
the gaze, his eyes also turning snowy white. Their minds met and mixed. A
deeper bond formed. With human babes, they were commanded to obey him from
infancy; the males reminded him of gangly little colts, the
females
sweet fillies. From Galf’s stare, Tavish knew he held a tiny but headstrong
stallion. Already there was
a strength
about his babe.

“Well my son, I see you are indeed a resister,”
Tavish said then chuckled. “Perhaps it would be best if your mother didn’t see
your eyes glow for a while yet. Mine still make her nervous. It would be
amusing for her to know she has the same ability, but I haven’t had the heart
to tell her.”

Mercy’s transition from human to vampire had
taken the full nine months it took to carry Galf. The moment Galf was
born,
Caine had been wise enough to be waiting with a bag of
his synthetic blood for her to feed on. Mercy didn’t want to feed straight from
humans. Tavish didn’t mind as long as she didn’t deny who she was. She was his
wife and a vampire, mistress of their coven. Eventually, she would need the
occasional human blood to keep her emotions under control. She might not like
it, but once told human blood laced with cell memory would in fact curb her
lust to kill, she would have no choice. Mercy did love oxymorons.

Mercy’s eyes had
glowed
a brilliant white as she fed from the blood. Her fangs had sunk into the bag
thirstily. Now she slept. She had asked how the baby was but had fallen asleep
before Tavish could even tell her they had a son.

Galf’s eyes were now the clear blue of
Tavish’s. He didn’t have the power to maintain any degree of hypnotism—yet.
Since he had grown in the womb, Caine was certain he would continue to grow
normally outside of it. As he grew, Tavish would have to keep a close eye on
his littlest hybrid. Hopefully his human half would grant him some compassion.
Time would tell what, if any, precautions needed to be in place to keep his son
satisfied and the humans safe.

“I wonder what we’ll be feeding you,” Tavish
mused.

Perhaps it was gas or perhaps it was
coincidence, but Galf curled his lips into a smile. Two tiny, teeny fangs were
exposed.

“Hmm,” Tavish said, taking a closer look.
Tavish had never really had much use for the word adorable, but it came to mind
now. “Maybe you better not show your mother those just yet, either.
Especially around her boobs.”

The little teeth slipped back into Galf’s gums.
Tavish wondered if they were baby fangs and if he would lose them. All the
human children were given something when they lost a tooth. Normally a rare
piece of fudge reserved for special occasions and rewards. Tavish wondered what
price these would bring. Mercy sat up and yawned when Galf made a small sound.
Her white eyes locked onto Tavish. She looked beautiful. Her white hair hung
over her bared breasts. The cover had slipped to her hips and there was no
indication she had ever had a baby just a short while ago.

“My son?” she asked.

“You know he’s a boy?”

“I guessed.”

“I think he’s hungry.”

“I know he is.” One creamy breast drizzled
fluid. “Here, give him to me.”

Mercy took the baby and put him to her breast.
Immediately her eyes cleared to her normal gray. She jumped a bit when Galf
latched on. Her look screwed into one of interest, concern and motherly
affection.

“What is it?” Tavish asked.

“He’s drinking my milk. I guess Mother Nature
does provide each individual mother with what her child needs and I’m no exception.
He also has two little wicked fangs buried into my tit and he’s sucking blood
at the same time. Something tells me I’m still going to be eating for two. I
have an odd need to drink from a lactating cow. How weird is that?”

“Well you happen to be in luck. There are two
at the stable.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to make Caine bleed the cows?”

“No,” she said and looked thoughtful. “I eat
meat…well at least I used to. Although a mouthful of fur doesn’t sound appetizing.
Maybe he could just shave a spot on their throats. I won’t take too much.”

“Consider it done.”

“Have you named him?”

“Galf.”

“But he’s blond.”

“I think my father would approve.”

Tavish went to sit beside them. With his thumb,
he stroked the tiny head. Immediately, two white eyes settled onto him. Little
lips pulled back and the tiny fangs were exposed in the tiniest, smallest of
hisses. Mercy chuckled.

“Sorry, Daddy, but I think these boobs belong
to another now.”

“I was hoping he would wait to show you that
trick.”

“It’s all right, Tavish. I want to know all
about him,” she said.

“Relax, my son. I will share those with no
other than you.”

The babe’s eyes turned blue and, with a
contented rooting sound, he once more began to nurse.

A sound lifted both adult heads to the door.
Ursus waved a huge paw in greeting. “Come and meet our newest cub, my friend,”
Tavish said.

Ursus lumbered forward. She sniffed at Galf who
watched her with his snowy eyes. Tavish wondered if the child had any control
over them and doubted it. Human babies had at times no control over the way
their eyes moved.

Welcome, little cub.
Ursus grunted.

“Well, my friend, what do you think?” Tavish
said and smiled.

A true little hybrid, Master.
Like my own.

For the second time since Tavish met Ursus, he
watched as a single tear trickled down the corner of the great bear’s eye. Tavish
was delighted. His son had the protection of two fierce mama bears. Something
told him this little hybrid would be a force to be reckoned with some day. But
until that time, he was Tavish’s to watch over. He was responsible for both his
son and his child’s mother. Tavish had a family. It appeared family had been as
important to him as it was to Mercy. Perhaps in the next seventeen thousand
years or so there might even be another Reign of Galf to watch over a new
coven.
Brothers and sons and family to the Brethren of
Tavish.
The idea made Tavish smile.

 
 
 
 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

C.L. Scholey lives in her Ontario home with her husband and children.
She is working on the next book in her series. She loves to connect with
readers and can be reached at
[email protected]
or check out her web page
www.clscholey.com

For your
reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

 
 
 
 

 
 

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www.torridbooks.com

 

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