She watched him as he moved silently toward her. He was itching to touch her again, itching to feel her once more. Her head tilted back as she stared up at him, her mouth parting slightly, and her breath coming more rapidly. He could hear the increased beat of her heart; her pulse sped rapidly through her veins. He smiled at her, pleased to know that he affected her as much as she affected him.
He caressed her face, his hand twining into her thick hair. Her eyes were bright as they twinkled up at him. She truly was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. He bent over her, pressing a soft kiss to her full lips. Her sweet breath left her on a soft sigh that he caught as he pulled her closer to him. His arm encircled her waist; he lifted her against him, holding her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She melded against him, nestling easily, perfectly. He was amazed by how incredible she felt against him, how right all of this felt. How on earth had it come to this? That he, of all vampires, had managed to find himself in this situation, in this predicament of being ensnared by the allure of a human. But he found himself not caring as he lost himself to the feel of her mouth and body against his.
He was so lost to her that he did not hear the knock on the door until it was too late. It was Keegan’s low growl that alerted him to the new presence, Keegan had never liked Caleb. Braith froze, his hands stilling on Arianna as he pulled slightly away from her. She stared up at him in wide eyed shock as heat flared through her face. Though Braith could not see his brother, he could feel the force of his gaze on his back.
“Don’t let me interrupt you brother,” Caleb said softly, closing the door behind him. “You know I don’t mind.”
Fear and shock shot through Arianna’s eyes, her gaze darted toward Caleb, but Braith held her still, keeping her sheltered from Caleb’s scrutiny. A scrutiny he knew would be cruel, speculative, and far more leering than Braith wanted her exposed to. He held her for a moment longer before sliding her feet slowly back to the ground. How had he missed Caleb’s approach? He usually sensed his brother the moment he hit the hallway. Caleb carried a wave of cruelty, anger, and depravity with him that was hard to miss.
“You need to go to my room,” he told Arianna softly.
“By all means continue,” Caleb drawled lightly. “I’ll wait. I’ll even enjoy watching.”
Horror bloomed in Arianna’s gaze, she tried again to look at Caleb, but Braith held the back of her skull, keeping her sheltered from Caleb’s gaze. “Arianna,” Braith growled. Her eyes came back to him, her lips, still swollen from his kiss, began to tremble. He could sense her fear, her revulsion. He wished that he could take this away from her, shelter her from this, but he could not. It was too late for that, Caleb was amongst them now. And Caleb was one of the nastiest sons of a bitches that Braith had ever met. He didn’t want him anywhere near Arianna. “Go.”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding swiftly. He released her, taking a step back as she squared her shoulders and locked her jaw. She turned away from him, keeping her chin raised as she strode across the room, not looking at Caleb as she moved. “Wait!” Braith bristled, stepping forward as Caleb barked out the harsh command. He didn’t want anyone ordering her around, least of all his little brother. Arianna stopped, her gaze turned slowly to Caleb. She did not waver, did not hesitate as she kept her shoulders proudly back and her jaw clenched tightly. Caleb lifted an eyebrow, amusement flitted over his face, but Braith saw the immorality in his brother’s gaze as it raked sharply over Arianna.
“She’s not really your type Braith, not that you can see that, but she’s really not. I, on the other hand, always liked a redhead. I really think you should give me a turn at her.”
Horror flashed across Arianna’s face, her gaze darted frantically toward Braith. He hated that she was being exposed to this, hated his brother for doing it to her, but he could not stop it, not without revealing too much, and then her life would be forfeit. “I don’t share.”
Caleb shrugged absently, folding his arms over his chest as his gaze slowly raked Arianna from head to toe again. “Anymore,” Caleb purred. “Things were different just a month ago.”
“Go!” Braith snarled at her, fighting the urge to punch his brother in the face. Amusement flickered over Caleb’s handsome features, but he did not try to stop Arianna again as she hurried from the room. Though she hid it well Braith could sense her confusion, fear, and horror. Braith kept his attention on his brother, struggling to keep his fury under control and his face impassive. He wasn’t sure he succeeded though, as Caleb was staring at him questioningly. A gaze he didn’t realize that Braith could now see.
“What are you doing here Caleb?” he inquired when he heard the soft click of the door closing behind Arianna. Though his vision darkened without her beside him, he was still able to dimly make out his brother. Caleb shrugged as he moved into the room, settling himself leisurely upon one of the sofas. Braith bristled, but didn’t show a reaction to his brother’s cavalier attitude.
“Father is holding a banquet tonight.”
“Why?”
Caleb picked at the back of the couch as he stretched his long legs before him. “Jericho has returned.” Braith stiffened, Keegan padded over to him, brushing up against his legs. “And you know what it means if little brother has returned?”
“The war will resume,” Braith answered softly, his gaze darting toward the closed door. He didn’t want Arianna to know about this, not yet anyway.
“Yes,” Caleb agreed. “I wonder what he has learned.”
Braith didn’t respond; there was no use in trying to guess at what Jericho had learned during his time away, until Jericho informed them what it was. He had not agreed with Jericho being sent out to try and assimilate with the rebels in the first place. Jericho was young, reckless, and it was dangerous to send a prince into enemy territory. But he had insisted upon going, wanting to do something for their cause, wanting to prove that he was something more than the youngest son. And their father had been all too happy to send him, eager to see what Jericho might learn about the rebel faction, and not really caring if he lost his youngest. He had two other sons after all.
But Jericho was the only member of their family that Braith had ever remotely been close to, and he had not wanted to take the risk of losing his brother. His protests that if Jericho was captured he could be used as a weapon against them had fallen on the deaf ears of his brother and father. His father would not rescue Jericho if something went wrong, a point that he had made very clear.
And now Jericho was back, and if he was back that meant he had discovered a way to bring down the rebel faction. He had discovered a way to destroy their enemies. Braith wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what it was though.
***
Braith stood in his father’s chambers, his hand folded over the head of his cane. Keegan sat silently beside him. It had been a long time since Braith had been in his father’s private living area. He could not see them now, but he knew over the years that his father had acquired more things, amassing his fortune within these private walls. He could sense things about him, hear the extra padding in the dull echo that rang through the enclosing walls.
“Your brother has returned.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Braith didn’t have to see his father to know that he was large, imposing, and dark. He was also sadistic. It was how he had managed to keep control of their race for over four hundred years, when many rulers had failed to keep it for more than a hundred at a time. His father ruled with an iron fist, no one stepped out of line, anyone that disobeyed was killed. They were not merely killed though, but tortured and destroyed in the most brutal and horrendous ways possible as a way to deter others who might try to bring the king down. He ruled by fear, he had won the war, and the vampires respected and obeyed him because of that.
Braith felt he should respect him too, he was his father, and he had succeeded where many had failed, but Braith felt nothing for the m
an except an intense dislike. His father had been cruel to the world outside of this palace, but he had been even crueler to the world inside of it. Beatings had been a mandatory rule upon growing up, being the first born Braith had received the blunt force of them, and being the youngest boy Jericho had also been heavily focused upon. Caleb had mainly managed to slip through untouched. Caleb also had a cruel way about him that his father recognized, and admired.
By the time Jericho had been born, Braith had been nearly grown and almost untouchable, and his father had eagerly turned his attention to a new target. It was why Braith had always felt closer to Jericho, had always looked out for his little brother, and had not wanted him sent straight into the lion’s den. His father had been more than eager to throw Jericho in there though, easily willing to toss him aside.
Braith had been surprised when his father hadn’t destroyed him after the loss of his eyesight; it had only been the fact that he had adapted so well to being blind that saved him. He could still fight as well as he had when he had been able to see his attackers, and he was still as ruthless as he had ever been. He was not like his father and Caleb though; he was not vicious for the pleasure of merely being vicious and cruel. He was simply a murderer when it was needed, and not a moment more. He was not his father and he was not Caleb, he did not relish in cruelty and he did not relish in hurting people, especially not children.
“He has some interesting information for us.”
“Does he now?”
“Yes, I have called him and Caleb here.”
“This is not a celebration announcement for the banquet then?”
“The banquet is not a celebration.”
Braith kept his face impassive; he did not want his father to see that his curiosity was peeked. He turned at the sound of the door opening, listening to the swift footsteps that echoed down the hall. He recognized Caleb’s gate in the lead, but behind it was Jericho’s softer, lighter steps. Though he wanted to smile in greeting, he didn’t. Caleb moved past him, but Jericho stopped, his hand clasping hold of Braith’s arm. Braith accepted his outstretched hand, squeezing it tight within his own. When Jericho had left, his hand had been a boy’s, with no calluses, or scars. It was not the same now. It was larger, firmer, stronger, and marked by multiple scars and calluses.
“You have grown,” Braith said softly.
Braith could almost feel his smile, the light that Jericho radiated. He had always been the easiest going of them all, the least affected by their world, and it seemed as if he was still the same. But beneath it all, he could sense a tension and maturity in his brother that had not been there when he had left six years ago. They held each other’s hands for a long moment, Braith tried to size up the man before him, but there were a lot more layers to Jericho now. He had a feeling that there were a lot of things that Braith no longer knew about his little brother, and may never know.
“I finally reached maturity.”
Braith laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. There had always been a joke between them that Jericho would never grow up, that he would be seven hundred and still acting like a seventeen year old. Braith had always thought it would be true, but he realized now just how wrong they had both been. Whatever had happened to Jericho in the last six years, it had changed him deeply. Braith was surprisingly saddened by this realization. He had missed his brother’s easy camaraderie over the past years, he realized now that he would not be getting it back.
“I can tell.”
Jericho squeezed his hand again before releasing it. “Tell your brothers what you have told me,” their father commanded.
Jericho took a few steps away from Braith. “After a year of living in the woods, fighting amongst the rebels, hiding my true nature, and struggling to earn their trust I was finally able to break through part of their tight knit, tight lipped, group.”
“How?” Caleb asked.
“I saved the life of a child that happened to be a cousin of the group that leads the rebel faction. The child’s parents started to trust me, accepted me, but it was still another year before the father took me to meet his cousin. I was blindfolded for this journey, and it was in the middle of the woods, but I met the man who leads the rebels. His name is David, I don’t know his last name, most rebels have forsaken them, but I would recognize him on sight.”
“And you know where he lives?” Caleb inquired eagerly, the bloodlust evident in his voice.
“No, no one outside of family knows where David lives.”
“Then what good is any of this?” Caleb hissed. “A man named David leads these imbeciles. Six years and that’s all you came up with?”
“Enough!” their father snapped. “Let your brother continue.”
“As I was saying,” Jericho growled; his annoyance at being cut off and degraded was more than apparent. At one time Jericho would have laughed off Caleb’s impatience and attitude; he did not do so now. “I met David, and though I don’t know where he lives, I do know his family. They may keep their living quarters a secret, but they all work together, especially David and his oldest son. I only knew the eldest son in the beginning, but three years ago David’s younger son became more involved, as did his daughter. Though they tried to keep the girl out of most of the fighting, she was well trained at it, and is a very skilled hunter. She often went on the food gathering trips, and would aid in planning and executing raids.”
Braith felt a tight knot beginning to form in his stomach. Arianna had been hunting for food when she was captured, she had admitted as much. And Max, she had said that Max had been captured because of her, that he could have run but had instead sacrificed himself in the hope that he would be able to free her from captivity. There were only two reasons a man would do that either for love of the woman, or love of his leader. He had assumed that Max had wanted to save her because they were friends, that he did love her, and because he was good friends with her brother. He realized now that he may have been wrong, that Max may have come after her because he knew who she was, and who her father was. Because he realized what a threat it would be to their cause if one of the children of their leader was caught and held by the enemy.
What the hell kind of a mess had he gotten himself into with this?
“Ok, so the girl is a heathen and wishes to be a man.”
“Shut up Caleb,” Jericho growled. Braith could feel Caleb’s shock, and he supposed he would have felt the same if he wasn’t already completely stunned and terrified of what else Jericho might reveal. “The girl is also in our possession right now, or at least she was. There was a raid on an outer encampment a few weeks ago, blood slaves were taken. Who exactly was taken was only muttered and rumored about, but one child claimed that a girl had saved him, a girl that very much resembled David’s daughter. No one knew for sure, until last week.”
“And what happened last week?” Braith asked softly.
“David’s daughter did not return as scheduled, and neither did one of his higher ranked lieutenants. It was confirmed that the girl had been taken. It is not confirmed if she is alive as a blood slave, or not. That’s why I risked blowing my cover to come back here now.”
“What good is any of this information?” Caleb inquired, but the anger was gone from his voice.
“Human’s tend to be very attached to their children. If David’s daughter is alive, and being kept as a blood slave, than we can use her against him. He won’t like the thought of his child being used in such a way, he will be reckless. If she is dead, then we will have to dig up a blood slave that looks like her, and try to use that girl against him. Either way, we have strong leverage over the rebels right now,” Jericho said softly.
“I want all of the blood slaves from the past few weeks brought forth tonight, Jericho will inspect them all,” their father said softly.
Braith’s hands were tight around the head of his cane. Sensing his agitation, Keegan had risen and begun to pace anxiously. “Perhaps it is your blood slave Braith,” Caleb s
aid lightly.
“Perhaps,” he managed to agree.
“You have taken a blood slave?” Jericho inquired shock evident in his voice.
“Yes, Braith has finally sunken to the levels of depravity that the rest of us have enjoyed all these years. He did well for a blind man; she’s a pretty little thing, if you like redheads. Which, I do.”
Braith stiffened, close to ripping the head off of his cane as he waited for Jericho’s response. If David’s child was a redhead, they would all know shortly, and they would all be racing up to his apartment to get at Arianna. They would use her, and they would torture her, and they would kill her. He didn’t know how he was going to stop them from doing so, but he knew that he had to try.
Jericho gave a soft laugh. “No, fortunately for Braith’s newest addition, David’s daughter is not a redhead.”
Braith breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension did not ease in his chest. Something still felt off about all of this, something was not quite right. He wanted desperately to return to Arianna, to question her, but he had a feeling that no matter what had passed between them, she still would not tell him about her family. Especially if this David really was her father. And he also knew that he could not blame her for that, her family was probably far closer than his, humans tended to cling to their loved ones. Vampires did not.
But, if David was her father, than why would Jericho lie about her hair color? Maybe he did not consider her dark tresses red, but Braith doubted that. Maybe he had never actually seen the girl, but why would he lie about it? What did he have to gain by coming here and lying about this? Unless, Jericho had wanted to escape the woods and this was his excuse to return to the luxurious lifestyle he had left behind.