"Not even a little. Everything I have told you since the moment I met you has been the honest truth."
"Oh, God," she said, breathing in slowly and carefully to calm the panic that was again trying to surface. She knew it was real, yet she had a hard time believing it. It boggled her mind that people could walk through time and that she could really be in the Dark Ages. Surely, it couldn't be this easy.
"I know there has to be more of a downside to all this. And I'm pretty sure here's where I find out you're some kind of vampire or something."
"No," he said quickly. "I'm not a vampire. I don't suck blood, and I don't do anything weird to sustain my life. I was born from my mother, just as you were. I feel the same emotions. I bleed red blood. And just like you, I will die at some unknown date in the future. I just come equipped with a few extra powers."
"I see. I'm a Toyota. You're a Lamborghini, and you can have really awesome sex."
He chuckled. "That's a good summation." Summation, hell. This was unbelievable. Inconceivable. How had she gotten mixed up with something like this?
But as she looked up at him, she knew. He was compelling. That deadly air and animal magnetism--
how could she have even hoped to resist him?
And she wondered if there were more men out there like him. Men of power and magic. Men who were so incredibly sexy that to look at them was to burn for them. "Are there more of you?"
"Yes."
She smiled evilly at the thought. "A lot more?"
He frowned before he answered. "There used to be a lot more of us, but times change."
Channon saw the sadness in his eyes, the pain that he kept inside. It made her hurt for him. He looked down at her. "That tapestry you love so much is the story of our beginning."
"The birth of the dragon and the man?"
He nodded. "About five thousand years before you were born, my grandfather, Lycaon, fell in love with a woman he thought was a human. She wasn't. She was born to a race that had been cursed by the Greek gods. She never told him who and what she really was, and in time she bore him two sons."
Channon remembered seeing that birth scene embroidered on the upper left edge of the tapestry.
"On her twenty-seventh birthday," he continued, "she died horribly just as all the members of her race die. And when my grandfather saw it, he knew his children were destined for the same fate. Angry and grief-stricken, he sought unnatural means to keep his children alive."
Sebastian was tense as he spoke. "Crazed from his grief and fear, he started capturing as many of my grandmother's people as he could and began experimenting with them-- combining their life forces with those of animals. He wanted to make a hybrid creature that wasn't cursed."
"It worked?" she asked.
"Better than he had hoped. Not only did his sorcery give them the animal's strength and powers, it gave them a life span ten times longer than that of a human."
She arched a brow at that. "So you're telling me that you're a werewolf who lives seven or eight hundred years?"
"Yes on the age, but I'm not a Lykos. I'm a Drakos."
"You say that as if I have a clue about what you mean."
"Lycaon used his magic to 'half' his children. Instead of two sons, he made four."
"What are you saying?" she asked. "He sliced them down the middle?"
"Yes and no. There was a byproduct of the magic I don't think my grandfather was prepared for. When he combined a human and an animal, he expected his magic would create only one being. Instead, it made two of them. One person who held the heart of a human, and a separate creature whose heart was that of the animal.
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"Those who have human hearts are called Arcadians. We are able to suppress the animal side of our nature. To control it. Because we have human hearts, we have compassion and higher reasoning."
"And the ones with animal hearts?"
"They are called Katagaria, meaning miscreant or rogue. Because of their animal hearts, they lack human compassion and are ruled by their baser instincts. Like their human brethren, they hold the same psychic abilities and shape-shifting, time-bending powers, but not the self-control."
That didn't sound good to her. "And the other people who were experimented on? Were there two of them, too?"
"Yes. And we formed the basis of two societies: the Arcadians and the Katagaria. As with nature, like went with like, and we created groups or patrias based on our animals. Wolf lives with wolf, hawk with hawk, dragon with dragon. We use Greek terms to differentiate between them. Therefore, dragon is drakos, wolf is lykos, et cetera."
That made sense to her. "And all the while the Arcadians stayed with the Arcadians and Katagaria with Katagaria?"
"For the most part, yes."
"But I take it from the sound of your voice that no one lived happily-ever-after."
"No. The Fates were furious that Lycaon dared thwart them. To punish him, they ordered him to kill the creature-based children. He refused. So, the gods cursed us all."
"Cursed you how?"
A tic started in his jaw, and she saw the deep-seated agony in his eyes. "For one thing, we don't hit puberty until our mid-twenties. Because it is delayed, when it hits, it hits us hard. Many of us are driven to madness, and if we don't find a way to control and channel our powers we can become Slayers."
"I take it you don't mean the good vampire-slayer kind of slayer that kills evil things."
"No. These are creatures that are bent on absolute destruction. They kill without remorse and with total barbarism."
"How awful," she breathed.
He agreed. "Until puberty, our children are either human or animal, depending on the parents'
base-forms."
"Base-forms? What are those?"
"Arcadians are human so their base-forms are human. The Katagaria have a base-form of whatever animal part they are related to. An Ursulan would be a bear, a Gerakian would be a hawk."
"A Drakos would be a dragon."
He nodded. "A child has no powers at all, but with the onset of puberty, all the powers come in. We try to contain those who are going through it and teach them how to harness their powers. Most of the time we succeed as Arcadians, but with the Katagaria this isn't true. They encourage their children to destroy both humans and Arcadians."
"Because we have vowed to stop them and their Slayers, they hate us and have sworn to kill us and our families. In short, we are at war with one another."
Channon sat quietly as she absorbed that last bit. So that was the eternal struggle he'd mentioned yesterday. "Is that why you are here?"
This time the anguish in his eyes was so severe that she winced from it. "No. I'm here because I made a promise."
"About what?"
He didn't answer, but she felt the rigidness return to his body. He was a man in pain, and she wondered why.
But then she figured it out. "The Katagaria destroyed your family, didn't they?"
"They took everything from me." The agony in his voice was so raw, so savage. Never in her life had she heard anything like it. Channon wanted to soothe him in a way she'd never wanted to soothe anyone else. She wished she could erase the past and return his family to him. Seeking to distract him, she went back to the prior topic. "If you're at war with each other, do you have armies?"
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He shook his head. "Not really. We have Sentinels, who are stronger and faster than the rest of our species. They are the designated protectors of both man-and were-kind."
Reaching up, she touched his mask that covered the tattoo on his face. "Do all Arcadians have your markings?"
Sebastian looked away. "No. Only Sentinels have them."
She smiled at the knowledge. "You're a Sentinel."
"I was a Sentinel."
The stress
on the past tense told her much. "What happened?"
"It was a long time ago, and I'd rather not talk about it."
She could respect that, especially since he'd already answered so much. But her curiosity about it was almost more than she could bear. Still, she wouldn't pry. "Okay, but can I ask one more thing?"
"Sure."
"When you say long ago, I have a feeling that takes on a whole new meaning. Was it a decade or two, or--"
"Two hundred fifty-four years ago."
Her jaw dropped. "Have you been alone all this time?" He nodded. Her chest drew tight at that. Two hundred years alone. She couldn't imagine it. "And you have no one?"
Sebastian fell silent as old memories surged. He did his best not to remember his role of Sentinel. His family.
He'd been raised to hold honor next to his heart, and with one fatal mistake, he had lost everything he'
d ever cared for. Everything he'd once been.
"I was . . . banished," he said, the word sticking in his throat. He'd never once in all this time uttered the word aloud. "No Arcadian is allowed to associate with me."
"Why would they banish you?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he pointed in front of them. "Look up, Channon. I think there's something over there you'll find far more interesting than me."
Seriously doubting that, Channon turned her head, then gaped. On the hill far above was a large wooden hall surrounded by a group of buildings. Even from this distance, she could make out people and animals moving about.
She blinked, unable to believe her eyes. "Oh my God," she breathed. "It's a real Saxon village!"
"Complete with bad hygiene and no plumbing."
Her heart hammered as they approached the hill at a slow and steady speed. "Can't you make this thing move any faster?" she asked, eager to get a closer view.
"I can, but they will view it as a sign of aggression and might decide to shoot a few arrows into us."
"Oh. Then I can wait. I don't want to be a pincushion."
Sebastian remained silent and watched her as she strained to see more of the town. He smiled at her exuberance as she twisted in the saddle, her hips brushing painfully against his swollen groin. After the night they had shared, it amazed him just how much he longed to possess her again, how much his body craved hers.
He still couldn't believe he'd told her as much as he had about his past and people, yet as his mate, she had a right to know all about him.
If she would be his mate.
He still hadn't really made up his mind about that.
The kindest thing would be to return her and let her go. But he didn't want to. He missed having someone to care for and someone who cared for him.
How many times had he lain awake at night aching for a family again? Wishing for the comfort of a soothing touch? Missing the sound of laughter and the warmth of friendship?
For centuries, his solitude had been his hell.
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If he dared . . .
Channon bit her lip as they entered the bailey and she saw real, live Saxon people at work in the village. There were men laying stone, rebuilding a portion of the gate. Women with laundry and foodstuffs walking around, talking amongst themselves. And children! Lots of Saxon children were running around, laughing and playing games with each other.
Better still, there were merchants and music, acrobats, and jongleurs. "Is there a festival going on?"
He nodded. "The harvest is in and there's a celebration all week long to mark it."
She struggled to understand what the crowd around them said.
It was incredible! They were speaking Old English!
"Oh, Sebastian," she cried, throwing her arms around him and holding him close. "Thank you for this!
Thank you!"
Sebastian clenched his teeth at the sensation of her breasts flattened against him. Of her breath tickling his neck.
His groin tightened even more, and it took all his human powers to leash the beast within. He felt the ripping inside as he set the two halves of him against each other. It was a dangerous thing he did, but for both their sakes, it was a necessary action. Especially since both halves of him wanted the same thing--they wanted the Claiming where Channon would entrust herself to him, the ceremony that would bind them together for eternity. It wasn't something to be taken lightly. She would have to give up everything to be with him. Everything. And he wasn't sure if he could ask that of her.
It would be unfair to her, and he definitely wasn't worth such a sacrifice. He saw the happiness in Channon's eyes and smiled at her.
But his smile faded as he looked around the town and saw all the innocent lives that would end if something went wrong.
Bracis had shown a rare streak of intelligence when he had set up this exchange. Sebastian was forbidden by his Sentinel oath to transform into his dragon form or to use his powers in any way that could betray his heritage to the humans. To the innocent, he must always appear human. Bracis had sworn that the Katagaria would come in as humans to make the exchange and then leave peacefully. Unfortunately, Sebastian had no choice except to trust them. Of course, Bracis knew the extent of Sebastian's powers, and the Katagari male would be an absolute idiot to cross him. And though the beast could be stupid, Bracis wasn't that stupid. As soon as they reached the stable, Sebastian helped Channon down, then dismounted behind her. He pulled his hauberk lower so that no one could see just how much he craved the woman before him. Channon watched as Sebastian removed his huge broad-sword from his horse and fastened it to the baldric at his waist. She had to admit the man looked delectable like that, so manly and virile. The chain-mail sleeves fell from the shoulders of the leather armor, clinking ever so slightly with his movements. The laces of the hauberk were open, showing a hint of the hairs on his chest, and all too well she remembered her hours of running her fingers and mouth over that lush skin. And as she stared at the small scar on his neck, she ached to trace it with her tongue. This man had a body and aura that should be cloned and made standard equipment for all men. Prideful and dangerous, it made every female part of her sit up and pant.
Stop that! she snapped at herself. They were in the middle of town and . . . And she had other people to study.
Yeah right. Like they were really more interesting than Sebastian. He adjusted his sword so that the hilt came forward and the blade trailed down his leg, then pulled a leather bag from the saddle. A youth ran up to take his mount.
"What day is today?" he asked the boy in Old English.
"It be Tuesday, sir."
Sebastian thanked him and gave him two coins before relinquishing his horse to the boy's care. He turned toward her. "You ready?"
"Absolutely. I've dreamed of this my whole life."
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Channon held her breath as he led her through the bustling village. Sebastian looked behind him to see Channon as she tried to watch everything at once. She was so happy to be here.
Maybe there was hope for them after all. Maybe bringing her here hadn't been a mistake.
"Tell me, Channon, have you ever eaten Saxon bread?"
"Is it good?"
"The best." Taking her hand, he pulled her into a shop across the dirt road. Channon breathed in the sweet smell of baking bread as they entered the bakery. Bread was lined up on the wooden counter and in baskets on tables all over the room. An older, heavyset woman, stood to the side, trying to move a large sack across the floor.
"Here," Sebastian said, rushing to her side. "Let me get that."
Straightening up, she smiled in gratitude. "Thank you. I need it over there by my workbench."
Sebastian hefted the heavy sack onto his shoulder.
Channon watched, her mouth wate
ring as his hauberk lifted and gave her a flash of his hard, tanned abs. His broad shoulders and toned biceps flexed from the strain. And when he placed the sack on the floor by the bench, she was gifted with a nice view of his rear covered by his black leather pants. Oh, yeah, she'd love a bite of that.
"Now what can I do for you gentle folks?" the woman asked.
"What looks good to you, Channon?"
Was that a trick question or what?
Forcing herself to look at something other than Sebastian, she attempted to find a substitute to sink her teeth into. "What do you recommend?" she asked, trying out her Old English. She'd never used it before in conversation.
To her amazement, the woman understood her. "If you're in the mind for something sweet, I just pulled a honey loaf from the oven."
"That would be wonderful," Channon said.
The woman left them alone. Sebastian stood back while Channon examined the different kinds of bread in the shop.
"So what's in the bag?" she asked, indicating the black one Sebastian had removed from his horse.
"It's just something I need to take care of. Later." Again with the hedging. "Is that why you came back here?"
He nodded, but there was something very guarded in his look, one that warned her this topic was quite closed.
The woman returned with the bread and sliced it for them. While Channon ate the warm, delicious slice, the woman asked Sebastian if he would help her move some boxes from a cart outside into the back of her shop.
He left his bag with Channon, then went to help.
Channon listened to them in the other room while she ate the bread and drank the cider the woman had also given her. Her gaze fell to the black bag and curiosity got the better of her. Leaning over, she opened it to see what it contained. Her breath left her body as she saw the tapestry inside. He really had stolen it. But why?
The old woman came in, brushing her hands on her apron. "That's a good man you got there, my lady."
Blushing at being caught in her snooping, Channon straightened up. At the moment, she wasn't so sure about that. "Is he still unloading the cart?"
The woman motioned her to the back, then took her to look out the door. In the alley behind the shops, she saw Sebastian playing a game with two boys who were wielding wooden swords and shields against him while pretending to be warriors fighting a dragon. The irony of their game wasn't lost on her. She took a minute to watch him laughing and teasing them. The sight warmed her heart. The Sebastian she had come to know was a man of many facets. Caring, compassionate, and tender in a way she'd never known before. Yet there was a savage undercurrent to him, one that let her know Page 104