The Brethren Of Tavish [Vampire Coven Book 1] (6 page)

Behind the woman was a long corridor, also
devoid of ice. The walls were a light green. They were perfectly flat like the
walls in the room. The ceiling was high but not near as high as her ice
dwelling. They were also perfectly formed.
What
strange walls
. There were windows along the corridor where light blazed. No
wonder they didn’t need wicks or oil or fire. When the odd rectangular box
closed they were alone again. Tavish approached holding the tray.

“What is that?” Mercy asked, looking past his
shoulder.

“What?”

“That wooden box the woman appeared behind.”

“It’s called a door.”

“What’s it for?”

“Privacy.”

“Privacy between a man and woman is…”

“I know, it’s
considered treason.”
Tavish rolled his eyes. “You sound like a brainwashed
parrot.”

Mercy couldn’t help but feel he was making fun
of her. It was hard to tell, she had no idea what a parrot was. And how would
you wash your brain? Jarrod had teased her once when they were younger that her
brain would slide from her ears if she lay on her side. But her father had told
her it was nonsense and Jarrod was just being silly. Still, for the longest
time, she had slept on her back until she grew older.

Tavish lifted the rounded dome-like lid on the
dish before her and placed it to the side. Mercy reached out to touch it. The
color was like nothing she had seen before. It was more beautiful and shiny,
almost a high-polished gray color, but it wasn’t gray. She could see her
distorted reflection in it, making her face look odd. The lid was hot and steam
rolled from the food to cover the dish in a fine layer of film like warm
breath. The smells were enticing. Her belly rumbled. Mercy had never been
hungry a day in her life.

Tavish lifted a piece of meat and held it to
her lips. Mercy hesitated. She should refuse. She should starve herself and
fade away into nothingness. But she opened her mouth, feeling famished. Mercy
groaned as she chewed. It was amazing. The morsel was tender and juicy. The
flavors came alive in her mouth. She moaned in delight. It was so delicious;
her mother would have loved this. Her mother had been a fantastic cook.

“It’s called steak,” Tavish said.

“It’s wonderful. It melts in my mouth. May I
have more?”

“You may have as much as you want. You will
always have enough to eat, I promise you. Everyone in my coven is fed. No one
goes without.”

His pale blue eyes were centered on her in such
a way Mercy wrapped the covers around her tighter. She wondered if he would eat
after she did. The idea was terrifying, and oddly curious. He smiled as she
accepted another piece of the meat, then another. Her lips closed over his
fingers a few times. It was strange to be fed by a man. She didn’t object. She
should really object. For the first time, she noted his fangs. They were small,
pointed, not the monstrous things she had been led to believe. Her father had
insisted those fangs would rip a human throat out. But if two hundred humans
lived here, he must spare some lives. The woman who had stood past the
door-thing didn’t look terrified when she was standing before him. She hadn’t
cowered and begged for her life, she had smiled at him with affection. He had
kissed her much like Mercy’s father had kissed her at rare times. The woman
hadn’t fled in terror.

“Try something else, little cub.”

“What is that?” Mercy asked. She pointed at a
yellow object with tiny bead-like things covering it. It smelled nice.

“It’s called corn on the cob. There’s only a
half piece here. It’s called a vegetable. I’m guessing you haven’t tried many
vegetables. You will be given a wide variety of vegetables as well as fruits
here for nourishment, to keep you healthy. Try it. Only eat the soft yellow
buds though, not the hard cob they’re attached to.”

It was difficult to hold one handed so Mercy
tucked the covers under her arms and, using both hands, she bit into it. The
taste was fantastic. Back and forth her mouth roamed over the delectable thing
called corn, which was a vegetable. She didn’t set it down until she had eaten
every bud. Mercy could have eaten five more. Using a cloth Tavish wiped her
face clean.

“Here, try this.”

Tavish handed her a glass. Mercy thought that
would be the right name for the object holding the liquid. It wasn’t a cup or a
flask. It was see-through like thin ice. Her mother often said the ice was like
a sheet of glass. The liquid was odd. It was orange but not like any orange
pelt she had ever seen when smoked. It was beautiful like a rare sunset she had
been privy to once. Her father had taught her many colors that one night so
long ago when she had been a child. He had told her it was the last time she
would be allowed to see the sky until her blood time stopped and she was safe.
Mercy had taken a picture of the colors in her mind and replayed them over and
over throughout the years. She was grateful to be taught anything. Sometimes
she ached for knowledge.

Mercy took a sip from the glass. She rolled the
fresh liquid around in her mouth. It was sweet, tart and cold. For a second her
lips puckered at the unusual taste and Tavish laughed. She did too after she
swallowed. Mercy tilted her head back and drained the contents.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Orange juice.”

Roundish red objects sat on her plate and Mercy
picked one up to exam it. It had seeds on the outside. A drop of blood red
juice slipped over her fingers. Mercy licked the juice. Her mouth watered.
Whatever it was it smelled wonderful. She sank her teeth into yet another new
taste sensation. Her eyes closed as she chewed.

“That’s a strawberry.
A
fruit.”

“It’s amazing.” Mercy’s words were muddled over
the piece she had in her mouth. She scooped up three more and couldn’t eat them
fast enough. By the time her plate was clean, she was full.

“My people grow many things for their
enjoyment,” Tavish began. Mercy thought he sounded cajoling. “We don’t just
return with things for a vampire’s pleasure. I find certain satisfaction in
keeping my humans content. All I ask in return is obedience. In fact, it’s law.
All you must do is obey and everything is provided. I will take good care of
you.”

“I’m more like a slave then, than a pet?”

Tavish smiled and brushed a lock of her hair
from her eyes, then wiped her chin with the cloth he held, ridding it of
juices.
“Perhaps.
But how many masters feed slaves
breakfast in bed?”

“Am I expected to be your breakfast in bed?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Tavish took the tray and set it on the floor.
When his face was only inches from her, he cupped the back of her head in his
hand. Mercy could feel his hot breath bathe her face. When he claimed her lips
in a kiss she could feel her heart pound in her ears. This kiss was more
demanding, expecting. She had never seen a kiss like this, even from husbands
and wives. It
was
more pleasurable
when the warmth was longer. When his tongue touched hers and he sucked it into
his mouth she jumped, but his hand kept her still.

Mercy could feel his power. With a gentle nudge
her legs were settled to the side and she was pulled against his chest. A hand
pressed to her back, pulling her closer. He was so hard it was breathtaking.
Mercy had never felt a man’s chest. Women were soft, at least she was. Her
entire life, any touching had been with a barrier of furs. This was what a man
felt like—muscle, strength, her knees felt weak.

When Tavish pulled away from her, she gasped.
His beautiful blue eyes were white as snow, burning, glowing,
boring
into her. His fangs were longer. Mercy pushed at his
chest, but he didn’t budge. The transformation was frightening. It took
everything in her not to scream. When he looked like a human man he was handsome,
but this, this was what her father warned of—the beast. A beast would kill. He
would rip her throat out with those sharp fangs. Mercy felt her teeth click
together. Her arms dotted in goose bumps. Her breath was dragged from her
lungs.

“It’s easier your first time if you let me
relax you, little cub.” Tavish’s voice sounded different. Like a thick heady
growl. His words were in her ears, swirling within her mind, surrounding her.
Creeping up like a flood of once frozen water to still the flow of blood in her
now icy veins.

Mercy felt like she was falling. She watched
dreamlike as Tavish descended his head and licked her throat. She was shaking,
her eyes widened. Her heart resounded in her ears. Her breath caught as his
fangs sunk into her neck. She whimpered. She was trapped.
Oh no, no, no, no
. She could feel everything, her blood flowing,
pulsing,
pounding
. It hurt. She was impaled.

“No,” she begged.
“Stop.”
Her hands clasped weakly to his chest. Her forehead rested against his shoulder
and her breath ruffled his thick hair.

Tavish lifted his face; he pulled her head back
by her hair and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Don’t resist me little cub.” His
voice was a guttural command, scaring her further.

Blood dripped from his fangs,
her blood
. Tiny droplets splashed onto
her shoulder sliding down her skin under the covers to her breast. Cold
snow-and-ice eyes made her feel frozen. Mercy began crying. Huge wracking sobs
rocked her body. “I don’t like your eyes like that, make it stop, make it
stop.”

Tavish gripped her face between his palms. “You
may not resist. You will obey me. Submit. I command you.” His demand was laced
with an animalistic growl.

“I want to go home,” she sobbed. The covers
dropped to expose her breasts, but Mercy didn’t care, her eyes were too clouded
with her tears. “You hurt me. You’re scaring me. Why? What did I do?”

Tavish was growling louder, deep within his
throat. Slowly his eyes changed back to blue. He took a deep breath.
Then another.
His fangs receded. “You’re a resister.” It
sounded like an accusation.

“I can’t help it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t stop you, but please be gentle. You said
you wouldn’t hurt me. Are you going to kill me because I haven’t listened?
Please don’t hurt me. Take me home, take me home.”

Mercy cried harder unable to control her fear.
Even if he took her home, her family was gone. Everyone she loved was gone. The
man before had been sweet and kind, until he changed into a hideous monster.
She had never felt so alone in her life. She pressed her hands against her face
wanting to hide but not able to tune him out. Her legs once more pulled against
her chest. She slumped to her side crying in anguish. She watched as Tavish
jumped up and stormed from the room. The door-thing crashed off to the side
when he slammed it behind him.

* * * *

“A thousand years,” Tavish thundered. “It’s
been over a thousand years since I met a resister, it was Ryker. I have too
much power to be resisted.”

Tavish was pacing back and forth across the
main room in his hall. Everyone dined together for the evening meal where his
men could watch over them. It was also a way to discreetly listen to
conversations of who was feeling upset or angry with whom. If anyone was having
health issues they were hiding out of fear, which some of the older humans
would
do.
The vampires could listen to see if any of
the humans had issues dealing with vampires when they weren’t aware of any
problems. If anyone was thinking up new ideas Tavish might be interested in, if
anyone else showed enthusiasm—or thoughts of betrayal.

The hall was empty now except for him and
Laken. Tavish was incensed. The sweet look of his little innocent had turned to
horror. She had curled into a ball to cower from him.
Shit
. He had come so close. He knew he had aroused her, she was
curious. He had pushed too hard too fast and he had scared the shit out of her.
Now she was alone and he wanted to rip things apart in frustration.

Why? Why the hell did
this one have to be a resister?

“What’s the girl’s name?” Laken asked.

Tavish stopped short and snarled. He slammed
his hand onto a table top, the sound was like a clap of thunder and it broke in
half. The word dragged from his lips with a low menacing growl offsetting the
word to sound more like a deep threat.
“Mercy.”

“Well isn’t that ironic?”

Tavish glared at him. “I’m not a cruel man.”

Laken sighed. “To her, you’re a monster. Let
her get to know you.”

“I’ve tasted her blood. It taunts me.”

Laken shrugged. “Then take her. She’s yours.”

“She weeps.”

“Since when has a woman’s tears stopped you?”

“I can normally calm a woman’s tears. She just
cried harder. She needs to obey me, but she needs to not fear me.” Tavish sat
in a chair near the broken table. “Times are different. A gentle hand is
beneficial to both human and vampire. If our humans fear us too much, they may
run. The forest animals will make short work of them.”