Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) Page 5

  Kele? What was she doing in his nightmare? “Duck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

  The vampire’s shot barely missed her as she hit the ground at his warning.

  She then jumped the bloodsucker and tore his throat out with the practiced grace of a seasoned hunter. The sheer violence shook Peder to the core. The Kele he knew didn’t have these fighting skills, or taste for blood. What had happened to her?

  He stared as a group of vampires carried shifters to his cage and dumped them in with him. None seemed familiar. There hadn’t been a battle between shifters and vampires on these lands for a century. What caused this?

  “Don’t shoot her! That pelt will bring us more money than the golden one.” A vampire dressed in rusted chain mail stepped into his view. He lifted a tube to his mouth and blew a dart into Kele’s neck.

  Shaking the bars, Peder cried out as Kele fell to her knees. He rubbed a sore spot on his throat. He’d seen that vampire in the mountain pass separating Apisi lands from the Temple. He had more vampires with him now. When he’d taken Peder, there had only been four of them. Peder didn’t recall this cage, one drawn by horses, but his memory was still foggy.

  Kele’s gaze rose slowly and met his. Her eyes widened as she mouthed his name but no sound reached his ears. If he was to die now, at least, it would be with the knowledge that she hadn’t forgotten him.

  Shifter blood soaked Temple soil. The packs would call for retribution. He fought the cage walls and only gained bruised shoulders for his effort. “Kele.” He reached for her as two vampires carried her to his cage. Only then did he notice the bars separating their prison.

  The bloodsuckers tossed her into the other side with the females.

  With his arms between the bars, he pulled her body close and stroked her soft, pale fur. He’d wanted to stop her mating ceremony, but not at this cost.

  “Hey, the gold one’s awake.”

  “The dart must have just nicked him last time.”

  A sting landed between his shoulder blades. The fog closed in but he clung to Kele through the bars. Somehow he’d save her. He’d find the hunter hidden inside him and bring her home.

  Chapter Seven

  The cramps in Peder’s shoulders seized him awake. Groaning, all he managed was to roll onto his back, which made the pain much worse. He couldn’t move his arms. Metal cuffs clasped his wrists tight behind his back, almost stopping the circulation to his hands.

  By the dark moon, where the fuck was he now? He blinked the fog from his vision. If the vampires kept striking him with their darts, he’d become an expert at waking dazed and confused. There were other skills he’d rather perfect.

  He tried to move his legs. His ankles seemed bound but not as snugly as his arms. If the opportunity presented itself, he could shuffle at a snail’s pace, then the vampires really would have a hard time catching him. He let his head fall back against what felt like grass and blew out a frustrate breath.

  The bloodsuckers had dumped them all on an open field. A fire roared close to some tents where Peder could see his captors preparing tools in the heat of red coals.

  Kele!

  He twisted around, ignoring the blinding pain in his arms until he squirmed into a seated position. He spotted her white coat only two shifters away among the sleeping bodies. Quiet as a mouse, he crept on his knees. Panting, he lay next to her until his cramped shoulders eased into a dull roar. He buried his nose into her soft fur and took a deep breath.

  Under the sheen of fear still coating her body, he scented prickly evergreen mixed in with the bite of winter. Kele was his breath of fresh air. She cleared his head and sent his pulse racing. Goddess, how would he save her? He licked the underside of her muzzle.

  The vampires had mentioned both of their pelts bringing a good price at the market. He lifted his head to watch as the bloodsuckers chatted by the fire, passing a bottle of wine. The biggest among them heated his tools in the bright red coals. Were they preparing to skin them? Peder swallowed around the lump in his throat.

  As a pup, he’d begged the older members of his pack to tell him tales of the vampire wars. Sometimes the storytellers lost themselves in memories and forgot they were speaking to a child, revealing details to freeze his soul. They themselves had only been children during this time, but the vampires hadn’t spared anyone in those days. If the vampires wanted to keep their pelts nice, they probably wouldn’t beat the shifters, but skinning them alive was a possibility. He shuddered.

  Clink. Clink. Clink, tapped a claw on the edge of a knife.

  Come out and play Peder. You’re always so eager to play with others.

  Why not me?

  He shook his head violently. It had been years since that voice had plagued him. Peder had watched Sorin kill his tormentor, watched as his throat had been torn out. Peder had lapped at the blood that had pooled under his body. Peder had been the first of the pack to do it and accept Sorin as his new alpha. No one relished the old alpha’s death as much as he did.

  Rolling on his back, he caught his breath and stared at the unfamiliar stars above. Susan taught him about constellations. After a few moments, he finally spotted Orion, but it was farther north than he’d expected. Did that mean they’d traveled south? He peered beyond their camp but couldn’t see the forest or any familiar landscape except a distant mountain range. Were those the mountains he crossed to travel from home to Temple lands? They seemed so small from here.

  His ears flattened. They must be out of Benic’s territory then. All Benic desired was Kele. He wouldn’t have had her chained and dragged out onto the ground. By vampire law, he owned the tribe’s forest home and ruled their packs, but he’d rarely exercised any of those rights. Peder’s gaze traveled back to their captors. They were in bigger trouble than he’d originally surmised.

  The Payami and the Yaundeeshaw would have found the massacre at the Temple by now. How long would they fight among themselves, tossing blame before they marched on Benic’s castle? All the while, he and Kele would be taken farther and farther from home until their trails went cold. His heart froze. No rescue.

  Kele stirred.

  He nuzzled her throat in comfort until she rolled to face him.

  She blinked slowly. “Peder?”

  His ears shot forward at the sound of his name on her tongue.

  She struggled with her restraints until she fell back onto her side. “I thought I’d been dreaming.” She lifted her head, taking in their surroundings and the vampires around the fire. “It wasn’t a nightmare then. My parents are truly dead?” Her voice hiccupped on the last word as if struggling with tears.

  He licked her eyes closed and did his best to support her body with his arms imprisoned behind his back. There were no words of comfort he could offer. Things were bad and from the looks of the tools in the fire, they were about to get worse. “I’m so sorry.”

  She nodded before resting her head on his shoulder, pressing her lithe body along his as if months of silence and separation didn’t exist between them. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to survive.”

  She lifted her face to meet his gaze.

  “I’m very good at it. Stay close. I’ll do my best to protect you.”

  The vampire with the darting skills lifted a metal rod out of the coals. “One of them is awake. Is the iron hot enough? I want to get this over with.” The tool glowed red in the night. “Looks good. Grab him.” He pointed in Peder’s direction.

  “Pretend to be asleep.” He pushed away from Kele and hoped they hadn’t seen her moving yet.

  Three vampires surrounded him. Two grabbed him by the aching shoulders and lifted him to his feet. He clamped his muzzle shut against a moan of pain. The more noise a victim made, the more the attacker wanted to hear it. He’d learned that at a young age.

  Stay small, stay quiet, and maybe he won’t notice me.

  Kele struggled to her feet with the most vicious snarl he’d ever heard from a hunter.
She snapped her teeth at the closest vampire and earned a hard knock on the muzzle with a club. With a yelp, she hit the ground.

  “Bring that one as well,” called the leader.

  “She didn’t mean it,” he pleaded. “She’s just frightened.”

  They dragged him to the fire and pushed him to his knees. With a key, one of the vampires unlocked his wrists. While the first vampire locked his free hand to his ankles, the second chained his other hand to a block of stained wood.

  “What are you going to do?” His voice came out strained.

  The third vampire dragged a kicking Kele to the fireside and forced her to her knees on the other side of the wooden block.

  Fear bled into her eyes. “Peder?” she whispered and it tore his heart.

  He couldn’t answer her. Whatever he said would be used against them both. If he comforted her, they’d only torture her more to punish him. He’d played these games before. He knew how to win.

  “Peder.” The leader stroked his head. “You have lovely fur. I wonder what you look like in civil form. If you shift for me, I’ll spare her.”

  “I can’t while I’m in chains.”

  The leader struck him. “Liar.” He held up the hot iron. “I’ve been dealing with your kind for over a century.” His gaze traveled to Kele. “She should be scared.” Then he set the glowing red metal against the back of Peder’s hand.

  The air was sucked out of Kele’s chest. Peder’s intense gaze focused on hers as the brand was set to his skin. Jaws clenched, he didn’t utter a sound. Neither did he pant or squirm. Muscles taut, back straight, he breathed in and out through his nose in a labored rhythm.

  “Stop it.” Her commanding tone came out reflexively and sharply.

  The vampire leader jerked the brand off Peder’s flesh. “Don’t worry, my lady. You’re next.” They unchained Peder’s burned hand and dunked it in a bucket of clear water.

  His gaze never left hers as they chained her hands in a similar manner.

  She stared at the block of wood. “Why are you doing this?” Yanking at the chain, she discovered she couldn’t bend the metal. It was vampire-made steel. Something shifters hadn’t perfected and couldn’t break.

  “How else would you like me to mark my property? I lack your scent glands and even if I could mark you that way, my buyers lack the noses to smell those marks.” He rolled the iron in the coals, heating the metal red once more. “Unless you want to become my private pet? I don’t like brand marks on my females.” He ran his hand over her back. “Shift for me. Let me see if you’re worth keeping.”

  Kele stared at the red coals and shivered. She was alpha born. No one owned her. Let them mark her body but her spirit would be free. She was Payami forever. Leaning toward the leader, she stretched out as if to accept his offer.

  He held out his hand.

  With sharp teeth, she snapped, but only bit air.

  He waved his fingers. “Like I said, sweetie, I’ve dealt with your kind for decades and I still have all my fingers.” He set the brand to her hand.

  Shifter skin sizzled just like any other type of flesh. Sharp heat knifed through her hand, spreading from her wrist, up her arm. Howling mixed in with yelps filled her ears until she realized those noises came from her. She flung her body from side to side but couldn’t get free of her chains. “Stop, stop, stop.”

  The night seemed to close in. Her vision narrowed. She couldn’t get enough air.

  Then cool water engulfed her hand.

  Her arms were guided behind her back and restrained again. She had no strength left.

  “There’s too much hunter in this one. She might be a hard sell.”

  Strong arms lifted her body from the ground and she was dragged back to her packmates, most of whom had awakened and stared in heavy silence at her return.

  Nahuel crouched among the Yaundeeshaw shifters. He offered her no words of comfort or support. Instead, he jumped the closest vampire with two other packmates in a foolish attack.

  Chained and collared, the shifters were left poorly prepared to fight properly. Any hunter should have known the attack would fail, yet these idiots fell to the vampire’s feet easily and were beaten soundly for it.

  Peder squirmed next to her until his upper body supported hers. “Save your strength,” he whispered in her ear. “If you love him, I’ll do my best to save him as well.” He licked behind her ear as omegas did as a comfort. Such a simple gesture, but it lent her the courage to keep her eyes open and watch the vampires drag Nahuel to the fire.

  She hated them all. What made vampires so special they thought they could own the world? She cringed at Nahuel’s cries of pain, which reflected her own. Her hand throbbed with her racing pulse and she buried her face against Peder’s chest.

  He seemed bigger than she remembered. Peder had always been beautiful but in a delicate, fine-muscled way. His chest pillowed her head better than she’d thought possible, and the sound of his steady heartbeat muffled Nahuel’s screams.

  Peder had held his tongue while being branded. He’d stood strong and made it seem a minor discomfort. She knew the truth. So did everyone who had watched her and Nahuel.

  One by one, the vampires dragged, beat, and fought each shifter to the fire, branding all with the leader’s mark. Owned like livestock. It didn’t translate in their culture. Strays? It was the best description but somehow with the vampires, their position seemed worse. Screams filled the night air and no rescue arrived.

  Peder continued to shower her with comforting licks and nuzzles.

  She closed her eyes and prayed to a goddess not many believed in anymore. How could they when the Goddess let vampires destroy their lives and culture? Did prayers fall on deaf ears? Had Kele’s parents’ souls gone to the dark without the Goddess to welcome them to her bosom? Tears trickled from her eyes.

  No one could see her weakness, but from the way Peder’s shoulder stiffened, she knew he sensed her tears. He sighed and rested his head upon hers. No false words of reassurance fell from his lips. He just cradled her as best he could and let her grieve in quiet.

  Her chest felt hollow. Papa…she hadn’t called him that since she’d been a pup. In her heart, she’d always thought of them as her mama and papa. Who would be her anchor now? She sobbed as silently as she could manage and her throat paid the price with the strain. What of her pack? Their alphas were gone. She’d been on her way to the top of the hierarchy and disrupted all the dominance statuses of the female hunters. The challenges would be deadly. Packs could be destroyed if a couple didn’t gain control fast. She’d broken Tegrathe’s leg. She wouldn’t be able to compete. Or if she did, she’d die.

  Kele took a shuddering breath. She had to get back.

  And she had to take Nahuel with her. She couldn’t fight as an alpha without a mate strong enough to win. He was a hunter and knew how to win challenges. She listened to him whimpering not far from where she lay against Peder. At least, she assumed he could fight. Those noises made her less confident.

  “No,” Peder whispered.

  She jerked from his chest. Had she spoken aloud? But his gaze wasn’t on her but in the direction of the fire. She twisted around and gasped.

  A female had shifted to civil form. The manacles were large enough to fit a shifter-sized wrist so she had the room to shrink. She stood naked in front of the vampire males. The firelight glistened off her smooth skin. Silken hair the shade of sunflowers flowed down her back.

  The leader nodded.

  She was led to a tent unbranded.

  Kele opened her mouth to shout at the female to run.

  “Don’t.” Peder’s soft command whipped into her ear. “There’s no saving her now. You’ll only bring attention to yourself and make them hurt her more.”

  “You’d cower here all night?” Fury struck like a snake that had been coiled in her belly.

  “If fighting while chained like prized dogs would work, then I’d stand next to you.” His gaze traveled to Nahuel.
“But it won’t.” He nodded to the vampires and continued to whisper his venom words in her ear. “Look at them. Look how they move. These aren’t merchant vampires working at trading posts. They’re warriors and they’re good at it.”

  She did as he asked. The firelight glinted off chain mail under their worn leather coats, which would turn away tooth and claw. Some wore swords but all carried muskets. The blades did little in fights against shifters, but the guns did a lot of damage. It was how the vampires had won the war. How they managed to kill her parents and the Yaundeeshaw alphas. It burned her gut, but Peder was right.

  “We stay alive tonight to fight another day.” He curled against her back. “Try to get some sleep. I suspect we won’t be given much rest tomorrow.”

  Chapter Eight

  The axle of the carriage looked new and strong as Benic ran his gloved hand over it. Made of vampire steel, it should handle the load of Inacio’s luggage. Why his incubus needed so many clothes when he spent most of his time naked was an eternal mystery.

  “Have you no faith in your stableman’s skill?” Inacio bent to watch him creep under the horse carriage testing the essential parts.

  “The best way to ruin a trip is to get stranded between cities on a broken carriage.” Benic met his impatient stare. “Trust me. I tend to learn from my mistakes after I’ve made them a few times.”

  With a huff, Inacio returned to pacing.

  All the wheel spokes appeared intact and sturdy. Benic kicked a few for good measure. Had he forgotten something? He checked his pockets: wallet, letters of identification for him and Inacio, small container of sugared mints. Maybe he should bring maps? There wasn’t any hurry to return. They could extend their journey. He hadn’t seen the ocean in decades.

  Inacio blocked his path. “Where are you going?”