The Vampire And The Highland Empath (11 page)

Edeen wanted to vomit. She tried to flee, escape the trap of his madness. She didn’t want any part of this. Oh gods, Roque’s innocent young face flashed before her. Year’s worth of torment as the young man grew to adulthood under Wulf’s tutelage. Her essence wept, struggled to get free. What Geschopf had done to him, harder and so much worse than the others, his special pet project, his beautiful beautiful powerful boy.

Beloved and depised by Wulf.

Dragons awake from their millennial slumber to walk the earth in the skin of a man for decades, spilling seed, before returning to the bowels of earth to slumber for a thousand years more. Some offspring between dragon and human retain their draconic abilities, as did Geschopf from his dragon grandsire, where his own hated father did not.

Yet the direct offspring between dragon and vampire…envy and pride for Roque coursed through Geschopf’s emotions as intertwined as strands of hemp. He loved him like his own and hated him for it, a sick twisted fervor of a disturbed mind.

The truth lifted right from Geschopf’s innermost emotions. Roquemore was dragon spawned. Joining of vampire and dragon. The only one of his kind in existence.

If she, nay, Geschopf, if Geschopf could force Roque to transform, as a dragon Roque would lose all human compassion, regress to his animalistic cravings, as Wulf had, she realized. Geschopf needed Roque to become the dragon in order to master him fully. Her stomach roiled.

There was a rough grating sound and the images swirled. Experiences came at her faster, ripping through her soul, ripping her apart.

A new leader arose, blood and death fluttering behind his heels. A reign of terror, of unimaginable cruelty. His own people rounded up, murdered, experimented upon. Heaps of decimated, ruined bodies trailed his essence like mounds of blood. Darkness and hatred covered the continent beneath hatred’s shroud.

Geschopf admired him, this mad
dictator
who dared conceive of a race as strong and pure as what the Black Claw himself envisioned.

Edeen screamed to get free of the nightmare. The darkness of Geschopf’s spirit held her essence, burrowing like a taproot into her gut.

Sick, sick, she was going to be sick, whirling, she fled through Geschopf’s emotions, finding death and horror at every turn. There was no place to go, nothing but blood, blood, blood.

Abruptly she was jerked away, coming back to her body in a painful thrust.

Geschopf writhed on the floor, shrieking, gloves tearing at his scalp as she was pulled backwards away from him. She was being carried, a strong arm pressed across her stomach, hurting, making the need to spew even greater.

They went out the door, past blood-coated vampires sprawled on the floor. One of their heads was missing, torn off.

She wondered where the captain was. He should be steering the boat, shouldn’t he?

Hysteric laughter bubbled in her throat. She was set on her feet. Roque’s face swam into view, his mouth working, though whatever he was saying came out echoey.

…off this boat…Geschopf won’t…down long…

He took her roughly by the shoulders. “Edeen!”

There was shouting, the slapping of boots on metal steps. Edeen blinked up at Roque, trying to make sense of it and felt like weeping.
Oh Roque, what he did to you
.

Shouts, grating noises. Roque’s face swung away. “Bleeding hell. There’s too many—“

Edeen felt herself lifted and then they were flying through the dark sky until the cold, cold ocean reached up and swallowed them whole.

Chapter Thirteen

“Edeen, come on. Are you with me, luv?” He pulled her through the water, moving away from the slushing paddle steamer. He didn’t know what had happened between them when Edeen grabbed ahold of Geschopf’s chest. They’d both frozen, caught in some sort of spell it seemed, and it had scared the shite out of him. He’d reacted swiftly, taking out the two vampires and snatched Edeen away.

And he would wager Geschopf wouldn’t be down long, but searching the water for them even now.

Roque could get them to shore. He had enough stamina and endurance for the both of them, but something was wrong with Edeen. “Come on, Treasure. Show me that you’re still with me.” He treaded water for them both. “Edeen?”

A wave swept over them.

Edeen’s eyes jerked open, tracked around the water for a bit, until finally focusing.

“Oh, Roque.” It was the most heart-wrenching wonderful sound he’d ever heard. His blood roared to life again.

“Geschopf…” Her chin trembled and there was heartbreak in her eyes. “He’s done the most horrible things.” Her voice cracked. “To you. To so many others. And, and, this Hitler—“ She broke on a sob as a wave dashed over their heads.

He pulled her in closer. “I know, I know.”

“Ye do not know. None of ye know what he’s done to his own people. ‘Tis horrible. I hate this world. I hate it. ‘Tis dark and ugly. Mortals have become monsters. I want to go home.”

“I know, I know. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be all right.”

Her sobbing slowed and she finally nodded. Pride filled his chest. Gods, he loved her.

Roque?” her voice was quiet. Water splashed over them, lifting them in their roll. “I did not mean any of those things I said to him.”

He smiled, though they were so close together she couldn’t see it. “I never considered that you did.” He kissed her forehead, found her skin to be cold. She was freezing, the sea water stealing her strength. “You were very cunning and brave.”

He drew from the fire in his core, letting it flow through his skin, pulling her close so his warmth would revive her.
 

Edeen pressed her head more heavily into the crook of his neck. “I would never make a deal with Geschopf.”

Roque’s heart dropped like a stone. He pulled back to look at her. “Yes, you will. If something happens to me, if we’re separated, anything at all, Edeen, you make that deal. You do whatever you have to do to stay alive. Promise me that.”

Her eyes were huge, shining in the moonlight. “Nay, Roque. I cannot—“

“You can. You stay alive. You survive. And I will come for you. But you stay alive.”

They stared at each other. Small waves lifted and dropped them. His heat reviving her, lips trembling, she nodded.

“Just do not make it come to that.” She rested her head back onto his shoulder. Her breath was cold on his wet neck.

“With all that I’m capable of,” he quietly vowed and felt her stiffen.

“Gods, nay. Alex, we left Alex.”

He’d do anything not to tell her, but she was a woman who didn’t take to being placated. “Geschopf had him tossed overboard.” He left out that the lad had been badly beaten first. “He’s strong and capable. Keep faith for him.”

Edeen nodded against him. Whether she believed him or not remained unspoken.

“We need to make the shore.” He pulled her around to his back, arranging her arms around his shoulders. “I need you to hang on.”

“I can swim.”

“I know, but it will be much faster this way. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said quietly and nothing in his existence had ever meant as much.

He squeezed her hands, ready to begin his swim, when he heard it.

The heavy halting drone of bombers. His gaze wrenched up to the dark sky, the booming roar of engines close overhead. At least fifty bombers passing over them, using the bright moonlight as a guide.

Mother of God,
Roque’s heart lodged in his throat.

German aircraft. The
Luftwaffe
headed directly toward Greenock. Toward the shipyards.

The sleeping inhabitants had no warning.

Sound the sirens
, he willed the watchman, or anyone, to see what came for them.

“What are those?” Edeen whispered.

Roque’s tone came out strangled, barely croaking out one word, “Death.”

The first glow of red hit Greenock like a flash of sunset, casting buildings and spired churches into dark shadowed reliefs.

Bombs whistled down from the planes, exploding, flowering in blazes of horrible light.

Shrill notes of the sirens went off, carrying over the water. Searchlights swept the sky and from across the river Clyde the ba-boom of anti-aircraft rumbled.

All Roque could do was swim. Swim with everything he had to Greenock.

Chapter Fourteen

She was numb. The water had grown cold again and she felt like a bag of unfeeling flesh pressed against Roque’s back, though she didn’t tell him.

He’d been swimming for hours, yet even his astonishing endurance must have limits and Edeen wouldn’t take from his reserves because she was cold. She adjusted her grip around his shoulders, flexing her water-logged wrinkled fingers.

The sky was lightening into the gray of pre-dawn. She could make out the ships and buildings that lined the approaching shore and several pointed spires that in her time signified a keep’s tower, possibly a church. She wondered if they still meant the same.

She recognized the long sandbar that marked the tail of an estuary that poured into the Firth, having visited the small fishing village that once occupied this shoreline a fortnight ago. Centuries ago, she corrected herself, her heart as frozen as her body. It was so quiet and still as though the events of the night were only a horrible dream. Flying beasts dropping fire and destruction from the sky.

Like dragons, ancient serpents, the true sleepers through time.

Edeen felt the muscles of Roque’s back move beneath her cheek, a true dragon.

She squinted, her eyes sore and gritty from the sea, toward everything that had changed. There was too much loss. Too much to mourn. Her heart was heavy as though it too had soaked up too much water and was pulling her down to the depths of the ocean.

“Edeen?” Roque’s hand came back around and tapped her hip. “Are you with me, lass?”

“Aye,” she answered dutifully.

He jostled her thigh. “Stay awake, Treasure. We’re almost ashore.”

“Not a treasure. Mmmm.” Her eyes hurt, so she let them slide closed.

“None of that, sweetheart. I can feel you not trying.”

“Bloody vampire,” she used his favorite oath. His bloody rotting senses would pick out the slackened beating of her pulse.

A chuckle filled his tone. “That’s my girl.”

Except she wasn’t. She did not have anyone she belonged to. She had not lied to Geschopf about there being no one left in the world that belonged to her either.

And this world was horrible and frightening, where machines filled the sky and rained fire upon slumbering innocents. Even Aldreth had not wielded a power so terrible.

The air around her warmed and she realized she was no longer floating lifelessly in the sea bay, but carried in Roque’s arms.

His legs splashed through water as he carried her to shore, the fire of his body warming hers.

“I am well.” She pushed to be let down, but her arm had little strength left. She would not take more from Roque. He was exhausted.

He would not let her down, but stared off to his left. “Huh. The shipyards took little damage.”

The same could not be said for the rest of what she could make out in the low light of Greenock.

“Stay right there,” a young voice called out. “D-dinna move.”

A young boy stood near a boulder, holding one of those long
guns
in shaking hands. He was caked in dirt, light hair mussed, his cheek splattered with blood. “Are ye a downed pilot, then?”

“Son,” Roque spoke very calmly and set Edeen onto her feet, stepping out around her, which she did not mind as it was unlikely the child’s weapon carried Geschopf’s dragon-killing
bullets
. Her legs felt wobbly, but she remained upright.

Roque held his palms out, placating, though with his speed, he could just as easily disarm the lad. “If I were a pilot, I’d be in uniform. Nor would I have a woman with me.”