Forbidden
Fane ducks behind a grove of trees as he skirts the castle walls. His pulse pounds in his ears, making it nearly impossible to detect anyone following them. He is desperate and because of this, his risk of making a mistake rises exponentially.
“Hold on just a little longer. I’ll find somewhere safe for us,” he whispers, more for his own benefit than Roseline’s. She hangs unconscious in his arms.
If they don’t escape they are both dead. Vladimir will probably tear her limb from limb while Fane watches just to torture him. The image of her dismembered body drives him over the wall and out into the open.
Reaching the road doesn’t offer any help. No one in Romania is dumb enough to be out on a full moon night. Too many superstitions have been created around such an evening. He is on his own.
With the greatest of care, Fane adjusts Roseline in his arms and leaves the castle behind. He heads farther into the countryside, away from town. If he leads Vladimir into the heart of Brasov, he will set the town ablaze until he flushes them out. Too many innocent lives will be lost.
Dogs howl in the distance. Fane stops, gripping Roseline to his chest. “Oh no.”
His desperation mounts. Vladimir knows they have escaped. Fane looks to the sky and whispers a prayer for the heavy snow that has begun to fall. It will help to slow Vladimir down, but he is no fool. Nothing will stop Vladimir now.
Fane races through the woods, ignoring the branches that lash against his skin. He cuddles Roseline, shielding her as best he can.
A scent hits him only a few miles from town. It is bold and mouthwatering. He slides to a stop and sniffs the air. It is blood…fresh human blood.
Fane shifts his course without thinking. All that matters is healing Roseline. If she can feed, they might stand a chance. He follows the scent into unfamiliar territory. If he had been thinking rationally, Fane would have instantly realized why he has never been in this part of the woods before, but his terror overrides sanity.
The stone wall before him poses little challenge as he scales over it. His feet land with a soft whisper on the snowy grass. His is racing ahead before his mind even realizes he is on the ground.
A small, darkened hole appears and Fane races right into it. His feet plod on the hard dirt floor. The scent is getting stronger as he pushes forward, calling on energy reserves that he hasn’t been forced to use in ages.
The second he steps into the light, he knows it’s a trap. A glint of steel shoots out from the dark and narrowly misses his neck. Fane dives to the right, curling his body around Roseline as he rolls back to his feet.
A sword wedges into the stone overhead, deep enough that a human would struggle to pull it free. It’s a good thing that won’t be a problem for him.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Fane kisses Roseline’s feverish forehead and lays her on the bare floor. He hates to leave her, fearful that she might be attacked while she is helpless, but he has little choice. He must keep his attacker’s gaze fixed on him until he can dispose of the human.
An arrow whizzes past his ear as he yanks the sword from the wall and spins back out of sight. A narrow miss to be sure.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” a deep voice calls from the shadows.
Fane searches for the source of the voice. The sword and arrow came from two different directions, which means he has two attackers to draw out. “I thought I’d take a midnight stroll.” He rolls along the ground to a nearby pillar. Each movement is visible for only a split second. He hopes it is enough to distract them away from Roseline.
“You were a fool to come, but I guess it is just as well. She will come for both of you.”
Scrunching up his brow, Fane ponders the man’s words. He knows the voice. Sorin has made it his life’s mission to kill Fane and his family after that little Halloween incident ten years ago.
But what does he mean about both of them? Has another of his family been captured? He can’t smell anyone. No big surprise since the human blood is overloading his senses. It is cool and refreshing, like the smell of a golf course after a spring rain. The mouthwatering aroma turns his stomach.
He refuses to become a monster like Vladimir or Lucien. The pull of human blood will not sway him, but it will give healing life to Roseline once he deals with Sorin.
“Don’t you want to come out and play?” the throaty voice taunts.
Fane cocks his head. He can hear a heartbeat, but it is not alone. He listens and singles out five distinct heartbeats. One is to his right, perched up in the rafters of the dungeon. A second, racing rather quickly, is hiding just off to his left, tucked behind a half wall. His fear teases Fane’s nose with its enticing scent. The animalistic predator in him rises to the surface but he instantly squelches it back down.
Two other heartbeats huddle together across the room. Fane risks a glance to see two kids locked in a cell. He doesn’t stop to wonder why they are caged as he throws himself to the side, kicking off the stone wall. Fane flips over the half wall, startling its young occupant. An arrow spirals toward him but flies wide as Fane lands on his toes and scales the pillar before him.
Once he is in a position high above Sorin, Fane gets a view of the room. Twenty feet below him is the last heartbeat. Now he can understand why it is slowly fading. A boy, his face rolled away, is slowly bleeding out. His body is a mass of small incisions to allow a slow trickle of blood to pool on the ground below.
Fane grits his teeth, angered by the waste of the boy’s precious blood. Roseline desperately needs it. Then it hits him. Fury curls like a venomous snake in the pit of his stomach. The boy is the trap meant for Roseline.
He gnashes his teeth at Sorin’s cruelty. If he had not been so desperate to heal Roseline, he never would have followed the scent. How could he have been so stupid?
“Do you like my little party favor?” Sorin asks.
A whimper below catches Fane’s attention. His gaze drills into the girl trapped in the cell. She clings desperately to a boy whose facial features greatly resemble her own. The girl’s frightened eyes are locked onto the bleeding boy on the platform. Something flickers in the back of his mind. Recognition? Perhaps. She does look oddly familiar.
“Come now.” Sorin shifts in his perch. He searches for his enemy but can’t find any trace of him. This makes Sorin visibly ill at ease. “Don’t you want a taste? Just one little bite.”
Fane licks his lips, struggling against the sudden urge to do just that. He shakes his head and silently scolds himself for being so weak. “It won’t work, Sorin. The boy doesn’t entice me.”
“Then why are you here?” he taunts back. “Surely you smell something you like.”
Yes. He likes it all right. Far more than he should.
Rising to see over the half wall, Fane spies Roseline’s pale form. Blood has begun to seep out from beneath her. It won’t be long until it trails into Sorin’s line of sight. He must move quickly.
“So what do you propose?” Fane asks, leaping down from his perch. He stretches out his hand, letting his fingers graze Sorin’s cheek as he passes.
Sorin jerks back so violently that he nearly topples from his perch. Foul curses drift down from above as he motions frantically.
An audible gasp nearby shakes Fane’s concentration. He glances to the side only to meet the girl’s furious gaze. “You,” she shrieks, rising to her feet. “What have you done with Rose?”
That is all it takes for Sorin and the boy to attack. Fane ducks as arrows fly. One plants firmly in his calf as he dives out of the way. He howls with pain as he rips the metal tip from his leg. He rolls back to his feet but favors his injured leg. This will even out the odds far more than he would have liked.
“Not quite so fast now, are you?” Sorin crows.
The boy is on the move. Fane listens as his heartbeat drums loudly, masking the sound of his feet on the stone floor.
&nb
sp; “Watch out.” The boy in the cell yells just as Sorin launches himself from his perch.
Fane waits until the last second before ducking to the right. Sorin screams as his ankle crunches under his weight. The boy darts from his hiding place but slides to a halt as he watches his uncle stumble.
“Did you forget that you’re human?” Fane laughs, approaching Sorin slowly. The older man backs up, wincing as his ankle buckles beneath him. “That’s the nice thing about being me,” he laughs, jumping on both of his feet. “I heal quickly.”
Sorin’s eyes blaze with fury. “You won’t when I cut off your head.”
Fane cocks his head to the side, tapping his lips as he pretends to think it over. “Well, no. That might ruin my day.”
The boy starts to inch forward but jerks back when Fane glances at him. “If you want to live, I’d stay right where you are.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Sorin roars. “Kill him.”
Fane glances back at the boy, his eyes narrowing. “Hey. Don’t I know you?” The boy pales. Fane snaps his fingers. “You’re that boy I ran into at that stupid dance. I thought you looked familiar.”
“So, you’re the one he sent to spy on Roseline.” Fane’s eyes darken with anger as the truth washes over him. His pulse rises as he braces for a fight. “I should kill you where you stand.”
“No!” the girl in the cell screams. “He’s not like his uncle.”
Fane glances behind him. Now he begins to understand why she looks familiar. “You’re the girl from the dance, the one I pushed aside,” he says, more to himself than anyone else. His eyes flicker toward William and a shadow of anger drapes over his face. Oh yes, this one he remembers.
“Yeah and I’ve still got the bump to prove it,” Sadie grumbles, unconsciously rubbing the sore spot. The swelling has mostly gone down but the bruise will linger for days. “Where’s Rose? What have you done with her?”
Fane blinks, shocked by the concern he hears in the young girl’s voice. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
“You kidnapped her!” she cries shrilly.
Sadly, Fane shakes his head. “No. I mean…I went to find her…but she wanted to come back.”
Her shock hits him like a battering ram in his gut. “But her husband…she must have known he would be furious.”
“Obviously she knew,” Fane spits, disliking the way his guilt tastes on his tongue. He could have done things different…should have. “But she wouldn’t dare risk that human’s life.”
The boy rises to stand next to his sister. “Gabriel?”
Fane nods. His stomach churns with acid. “Yeah. That’s the one she was trying to protect.”
Sorin’s nephew shifts around to Fane’s front, his eyes searching for some sign of trickery. His crossbow lowers slightly. “Roseline was trying to save Gabriel?”
Fane laughs bitterly. “You act like that surprises you. Didn’t you spend any time with her? She’s the most selfless person to ever walk this earth—” he trails off as his gaze flickers to where Roseline lies. “And now she’s dying.”
The girl cries out, covering her mouth with trembling hands. Her brother embraces his sister but is helpless to do anything. The nephew, on the other hand, follows Fane’s gaze and notices a pale slip of white. “She’s here?”
Fane nods reluctantly. His eyes mark Sorin’s every breath, every twitch. If he takes one step toward Roseline, Fane will rip his throat out.
“What is wrong with her?” the boy asks, rising on his toes to try to see her.
“She was punished, as she knew she would be, but she went anyways. She was trying to save you.” Fane looks to the brother and sister in the cage. “Vladimir would have come after you if he ever knew you existed. This was her way of saving you.”
The green-eyed boy mulls this over. His crossbow slips lower. “Bring her out here,” he commands.
Shooting a warning glare in Sorin’s direction, Fane reaches Roseline in two bounds. He walks carefully with her out into the light. The girl wails at the sight of Roseline’s broken body.
“What have you done to her?” the boy gasps, horrified at the sight before him.
“That is what a vampire does, Nicolae. Remember your training. Kill him while he’s distracted,” Sorin orders as he hops toward the nearest wall. His ankle is swelling at an alarming rate.
Sorin’s nephew looks torn. The evidence is right in front of him and yet the grief shining from Fane’s eyes belay that proof. “Can you help her?”
Fane’s tormented gaze meets his and a flicker of hope flares to life. “Yes. She needs blood.” His gaze darts to the platform where the shirtless boy’s blood drips uselessly onto the floor. “Without it, she will die.”
Nicolae blanches. He raises his crossbow, aiming it directly into Fane’s heart. “So you are a vampire.”
Sadly, Fane shakes his head. “No, I’m not a vampire. I’m not evil enough to live up to that myth.”
“Well, what the heck is that supposed to mean?” the girl cries, pressing against the bars. Fane can see that it is killing her to be in there, locked away, unable to help her friend.
“It means I’m not the sadistic murderer Sorin assumes I am,” Fane snarls, glaring at the man in mention. Sorin rolls his eyes, clenching his teeth against the pain. The bone is pressing tightly against the skin of his ankle. A bad break, but he will live.
“Then what are you?” the brother asks, growing bold behind the bars.
“I’m an immortal.”
Nicolae frowns. “If you’re immortal then why is Roseline dying? Her wounds—” he breaks off as his stomach rolls. He has seen death and more than enough blood to fill a thousand horror films, but he has never seen such a mangled body. Roseline’s flesh is actually hanging from her body, bloody strips clinging to Fane’s hands. It is a miracle that she is still alive if death really is an option.
“Blood is life…even for us. She has lost too much. She needs more.”
“Take mine.”
Fane’s gaze follows the hoarse whispers to the boy atop the platform. It is the first time he has spoken. With great effort, the boy rolls his head and locks his glazed eyes on Fane. “Save her. Please.”
“You,” Fane gasps. “This is a trap.”
He curls Roseline into his chest and crouches low, preparing to fight his way out. He scans the dark recesses of the room, sure that others must lie in wait to ambush him, but he hears nothing. Sorin’s greed and pride have blinded him to his need for his hunters on this night.
“No,” Nicolae cries, stretching out a hand toward Fane. “Wait. It’s not what you think.”
Sorin’s harsh laughter echoes throughout the room. “It’s exactly what you think, vampire. You have been set up. Elaborate, eh?”
Fane vision shifts into red hues as his blood boils. “Before this night is through, I will have your head.”
Sorin grins, leaning heavily on the sword in his hand. “Why wait? I’m right here.”
Fane’s arms flinch, desperate to pummel Sorin, but he still holds Roseline in his arms. Nicolae shifts, pulling Fane’s attention away.
“Whose side are you on, boy? Choose now,” Fane growls.
Nicolae casts a worried glance at the girl in the cage. Her lips tremble as she looks back. “Help her, Nicolae.”
His shoulders straighten as he faces off with Fane. “Will you let Sadie live?”
“You fool,” Sorin sneers. “You’re making a deal with the devil. He’ll rip her throat open as soon as he’s done with us.”
Nicolae refuses to look at his uncle. He takes a stand for the first time in his life. “Well?”
Fane nods. “You will all go free except Sorin. He’s mine.”
“Please,” Gabriel begs. His voice is barely above a whisper. “There isn’t much time.”
“Will she kill him?” Sadie asks, glancing at her bes
t friend. Roseline’s blood drips onto the floor, pooling around Fane’s feet.
“More than likely,” Fane replies evenly. He doesn’t try to hide his remorse at the thought. No one knows the effects his death will have on Roseline more than him. Saving her life by taking his might destroy her, but she will live.
“Do it,” Gabriel croaks, struggling to lift his arm to Fane. “Save her.”
Glancing to make sure Sorin cannot reach him, Fane leaps onto the platform. He lowers Roseline’s head to place her open mouth directly under the blood dripping down the leather straps but it’s much too slow. Gabriel’s life is waning too quickly.
“What’s happening?” Sadie cries, desperate to know the details. Her head cranes as far as it will go but she can’t see anything.
Nicolae swallows back his revulsion. “He’s feeding her.”
William gulps down the bile rising in his throat. He clenches Sadie tightly to his side. “Is it working?”
Nicolae shakes his head, unable to look away from Roseline. “No. She’s not moving.”
Fane shakes her unconscious form, his desperation mounting as her pulse dips to comatose levels. “Please, Roseline…don’t leave me.”
“How touching,” a sinister voice snakes out from the darkness. All eyes turn toward the tunnel entrance, each one widening in terror at the sight of Vladimir and Lucien. “It looks like the party has already started,” Vladimir croons, stroking the sword hilt at his side. His eyes gleam black, maniacal and bloodthirsty.
“Let’s have some fun, brother,” Lucien grins.
Forty-Four