The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (43 page)

Cesare paced the bow. A cruel smile flittered across the prince's thin,
bloodless lips. No doubt Gareth would be livid that his younger brother
had the audacity to challenge him on his home ground. If Gareth had
been a true noble, he would have set his own packs, if he had any, on
Cesare by now. Cesare would have loved a fight; his brother needed to be
put in his place. The black stones of Edinburgh Castle finally slid
beneath the hull of the ship. And still no challenge had come from
Gareth.

Cesare leapt over the rail, followed by Flay and a cadre of the Pale.
They lit in the main courtyard. The place was empty-in fact, dismally
barren. Except for cats, some of which stared openly at the vampires as
they entered into the castle. The little beasts unnerved Cesare. Their
constant mewling bored into his sensitive ears. How typical of Gareth
to live among such vermin.

"Show yourself, Gareth!" Cesare shouted. "I have no time for games!"

From out of the shadows stepped a lean, tall vampire.

"Baudoin," snarled Cesare. "I haven't seen you in ages. How comforting to know you're still coddling my brother."

Baudoin bowed to his other nursery charge of long ago, out of duty
rather than courtesy.

"Take me to Gareth," Cesare demanded, done with feeble pleasantries.

Baudoin droned an official reply, "Prince Gareth has urgent business
in the west. I do not know when he will return. I must convey his enormous regrets."

"He knew I was coming!" Cesare roared.

Baudoin struggled to hold back the small smile at Cesare's childish
tantrum. It was all very familiar. Apparently age had not tempered the
young prince's self-important indulgences.

"Then no doubt he will return soon." Baudoin bobbed his head in
deference to Cesare's logic. "Surely he would not keep you waiting."

Flay was not amused. She stepped close to Baudoin, her lips near the
servant's neck. Baudoin stood straight, refusing to show fear to this
fierce warrior, though he knew that she might kill him in an instant.

"You're toying with your life, butler." Flay's tone was whisper low.

"I only speak the truth."

"Where is my brother?" Cesare asked.

Baudoin shrugged. "One human settlement is like any other to me.
I have no way of knowing which one he went to."

Furious at the delay, Cesare kicked his way through the curious cats.
Suddenly he spun to Flay. "Search the road to Clava in the north. There
are places humans might hide from me there."

Flay's lips split into a merciless grin. "It will be my pleasure." Her
long fingers slid along Baudoin's neck, drawing a thin red line of blood
as they withdrew.

With a shrill hiss, she commanded three of her Pale. They slid into
the air and left the castle's confines.

Adele and Gareth ran across the countryside. He moved as if he had
never been injured. The terrible wounds he carried were already losing
their raw and horrible aspect. The thought that it was her blood that had
healed him so quickly thrilled Adele. She did an admirable job of
keeping up with his brutal pace. They moved as a well-oiled machine.
She even flashed him a broad smile, enjoying their return to flight, just
the two of them again. For a moment he was caught up in her exhilaration and belief that they would escape.

"Where are we going?" Adele asked with labored breath.

"North. There are stones there. Remember how you hid near stones
on the road to Canterbury?"

"Yes."

"Well, there are many stones to the north. Vampires never go near
them. It may help hide you from Cesare until I can make arrangements
to get you out of Britain."

Adele thought back to Canterbury. Her heart pounded with anticipation, a palpable desire to have that amazing surge roar through her
again. Plus she felt, she knew, that such a place would keep her safe from
any vampires, even Cesare and Flay. Then Adele remembered how
Greyfriar had reacted to Canterbury. "Can you go to these stones?"

"Yes. I can stay for a short while. It won't kill me."

"Is there some other place? Some other way?"

"No. We are in a corner, Princess. The stones are your best hope
now. There is nothing else."

Adele didn't question further. They moved on relentlessly by day
and night. They rested only when Adele could move no more. Skies
grew grey, and rain spattered them constantly. Mists hid their footsteps
along mossy pathways. The air grew colder, and the fierce Scottish wind
howled hard around them. Gareth didn't notice, even though he had
only his torn, long-sleeved frock coat over his bare chest. Adele longed
for a fire and warm food, but she knew that was impossible.

The terrain grew even more difficult. Valleys deepened, and sharp
rock faces slashed up from the green hillsides. Ground turned wet and
boggy. Heavy forests hid them from spying eyes overhead, but also made
their path harder.

Gareth paused under the boughs of great trees, staring out over a
long open glen. They would need to sprint across the rolling moors to
reach the next stand of trees. Although Adele made no sounds of weakness, he could tell she was failing from the chill and damp, and sporadic
meals. The stones at Clava were still days away. He wanted to move so
much faster, but Adele simply couldn't.

Gareth took her by the hand and started out across the wet ground.
The pain of her touch was almost minuscule now. She still gave off a
fierce heat, but it wasn't searing. The strong wind slapped at their
clothes. The soft turf squished beneath their boots. Adele could barely
feel her feet as they fell one after the other over the muddy earth.

Suddenly, Gareth stopped and stared back up into the sky. Three
dark shapes dove for them out of the misty clouds. "They found us!"

"Good. I couldn't run another step." With a scrape of steel, Adele
drew the Fahrenheit blade. Her other hand pulled a pistol.

Gareth found himself grinning at her fighting visage. She was a
marvelous sight, hood flung back and her traveling cloak swirling about
her as she spun toward the attackers.

Gareth lifted into the sky to confront his kindred, relishing the fact
that he could fight now as a vampire and not hide his abilities behind a
human mask. His claws and teeth elongated as he drew close to the Pale.
One vampire's head snapped back abruptly, and he went spinning backward as Gareth heard the report of Adele's pistol.

Then he was in the thick of battle, colliding with the next vampire
at such speed that their impact sounded like a clap of thunder. His teeth
sank deep into the jugular of his foe, and a twist of his jaw ripped
through the tendons and sinew. The Pale gurgled and clawed, but the
prince flung him aside as the third vampire dove past him for Adele.

Gareth propelled himself after his last foe. Adele stood ready, the
dim sunlight unable to match the glow of her drawn dagger and her
other arm outstretched, aiming with steadfastness at the vampire barreling toward her. Gareth saw the puff of smoke and watched her hand
jerk as the pistol fired. With frightful anticipation, the vampire twisted
to the side, and Gareth felt rather than saw the bullet tear through the
Pale's red tunic and then rip his own coat.

The Pale dropped toward the princess, hissing a terrible screech. His
arms reached for her. Adele stepped forward, and there was a brilliant flash
as her khukri arced up and over. The vampire screamed as one of his hands
fell to the ground. Adele followed the motion of her blade and ducked low
as he flew over her. A moment later a second shadow passed over her as
Gareth grasped hold of the vampire's shoulders and let momentum draw
them up. There the prince made short work of his opponent, snapping his
neck and nearly wrenching it from the torso in his rage.

Gareth looked around to see the vampire with the torn throat
sprawled on the ground, nearly dead. Adele was running for him with
her wide-bladed dagger drawn back to deliver the coup de grace. The
first Pale she had shot was trying to escape, so Gareth flew after him. It
took only seconds to catch up and dispatch him.

Gareth settled to the ground next to Adele as the blood boiled on
her blade. She was breathing heavily; her eyes danced with animalistic
exhilaration. With a smooth flourish the dagger was back in its sheath,
and she reloaded the pistol before it found its home back in her belt.

"We beat them!" she exclaimed.

He smiled at her. He hadn't dared to hope they would ever fight side
by side again. But his smile didn't linger. Behind Adele he spotted more
black dots in the sky. Adele gasped when she turned and saw them too.

Cesare, Flay, and more vampires approached. There was no chance to
flee now.

Throwing off his tattered frock coat, Gareth prepared to fight the
small army.

"What are you doing?" she cried, grabbing his arm. "You can't stop
them all!"

"They will not have you!"

"But if you're killed, then what happens to me?"

Gareth hesitated, looking down at her pleading face, her eyes wide
with fear and determination. The vampires were almost upon them, and
Gareth knew he had no choice. This was the end, his last gambit.

Suddenly, Adele's eyes tightened with determination. Even an
insane plan was better than suicide. She threw herself away with a small
cry and fled wildly. "I will not be taken by you vampire scum!"

Taken by surprise, Gareth stared after her. To his horror, Flay
swooped at Adele and grabbed her.

"No!" screamed Gareth, as he smashed into Flay and drove her into
the sodden ground.

Adele rounded on Gareth with a fist and slammed it into his face,
forcing the stunned prince back.

"Get away from me, you wretched slime!" She scrambled away from
him with her face full of disgust and fear reminiscent of when she first
came to Edinburgh.

Bewildered, Gareth stepped toward her with his hand out. But her
gaze was only on the shadows coming up behind them. Gareth knew
Cesare had arrived.

Adele collapsed at Gareth's boots. "I surrender!" she gasped. "No more!"

Flay angrily gained her feet, dripping mud. She stalked toward
Gareth, but Cesare motioned her aside.

Cesare studied his older brother and his human prisoner with
astonishment.

Abruptly, Gareth understood. "I have captured the escaped princess."

Cesare stammered, "Why ... ? How did she come to be here?"

Gareth's response was to grab Adele roughly by her upper arm and
drag her to her feet. She seemed limp and frightened, but not quite
resigned to her fate.

Adele snarled, "It was Greyfriar who rescued me!" She met the gaze
of Flay. "Don't you tire of being bested by him?"

Flay raised a clawed hand, which Cesare slapped down. The war
chief glared silently at Adele and worked her toothy jaw in anger.

Gareth said to Cesare, "Apparently you cannot keep hold of your prisoner. So she will remain in my possession. I am taking her to Edinburgh."

Cesare snarled at his brother's barb, but then his face twisted into a
sneer. "I don't believe that will happen. Our father has decreed the prisoner be returned to London. He will decide what is to be done with her.
Surely even you do not have the audacity to disobey our king."

Gareth desperately tried to think of a solution to this matter that
wouldn't result in Adele being taken from him. His father's word was
law, and to openly disobey it would be fatal.

With a stiffening back, he conceded. "So be it. But before relinquishing my prisoner, I will consult with our father." Through eyes narrowed to slits, he regarded his brother. "Unless you wish to invite a clan
war over this affair."

Flay brandished a clawed hand again and surged at Adele. "I have no
compunctions about starting one."

Gareth shoved her back, keeping Adele behind him.

"Enough!" Cesare boomed. "For the moment, I'm willing to play
your little game." His words were punctuated by a meager bow. "Let us
return to your home, by all means."

With a cold stare, Flay followed after her prince as Cesare strode off.
Gareth turned toward Adele. He couldn't comfort the fear in her eyes
because he knew it was echoed in his own.