Shadow Stalker

By

Nikita McKnight

© copyright by Nikita McKnight
Cover Art by Eliza Black
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

Prologue

Althaea’s eyes opened wide. There! I know I heard it that time! A slight scratching, like the footsteps of a wasp, sounded at the dark window. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her heart raced faster. There was someone out there.

She slowly rolled over, staring at the window, scared to move from the safety of her bed lest the movement shatter the night. Her eyes widened in fear as the window panes exploded, flying open. Glass shattered, falling to the ground as a black shadow swept into the room. In the wildly flickering shadows cast by the one candle in the room stood a tall, dark man. His cape fluttered in the wind that whipped in through the broken window. Cold eyes met her own and he approached, stepping into the dancing light of the flame.

She gasped as she recognized him. “Why are you here?” she asked, sitting up in the bed, the covers falling down to expose the soft curves of her naked body. “I thought we were going to meet tomorrow night. You’re early….”

The man looked down at her, caressing her with his gaze. Under his intense scrutiny, her nipples began to harden. Sitting on the side of the bed, he lightly kissed her breasts, running his tongue over her taught nipples and sending a quiver of pleasure through her body, igniting a fire between her thighs.

He slowly lowered her to back onto the bed, moving his mouth up to lightly brush her lips. Laying on top of her, he grabbed her hands roughly, holding them over her head with one large hand. He slid his legs between hers, parting her thighs.

“Sorrell, I--”

“Quiet,” he hissed. He nipped her neck with long fangs, scrapping them softly against her skin and she gasped.

“Tonight, you’re mine,” he whispered into her ear. The chill of the night forgotten, his tongue flicked out to lick her lobe. Sorrell drew it into his mouth, sucking it gently.

His hands explored her soft body, drawing gasps from her as they came to a stop, one on her breast, the other slipping down between her legs. His strong fingers dipped into her wetness then rubbed against her clit. As his hand teased her nipple, he lowered his head to suckle her breast.

Althaea cried out as waves of pleasure swept through her body. She ran her hands down his muscular back, scraping it lightly with her nails. She gasped and raised her hips as his nimble fingers slid inside her again. She moaned in disappointment when he withdrew from her wetness. He unfastened his pants, releasing his rock hard cock. It pulsed against her flat stomach, sending an aching desire through her soul. He roughly grasped her breast, teasing first one nipple, then the other to painful hardness. Taking one into his mouth, he nipped it, drawing a drop of blood into his mouth. Althaea moaned in pleasure, squirming beneath him, aching to have the length of him inside her.

Her legs wrapped around his back of their own accord and she thrust her hips up, eager to feel his hard shaft between her legs. His hand wandered down her side, slipping between her legs to rub her clit. Inserting his fingers into her moist insides, he parted her lips, positioning the head of his throbbing cock between her legs.

Althaea gasped as he slammed his hard cock into her. She lifted her hips to receive more of him, rocking in sync with him. He thrust into her again, filling up her tight sex.

Sorrell licked her sweet lips, drawing the bottom one into his mouth. With agonizing slowness, he withdrew his cock, rubbing it against her clit.

Althaea gasped. “Oh Sorrell….” Her voice had grown husky with desire. “Please….”

“Say it love,” he said against her ear, his tongue flicking out to lick her neck. “You have but to ask.”

“Harder,” she groaned. “Please. Harder.”

He thrust his cock back into her. Grinding into her tightness, he quickened the tempo and she cried out at the release of her orgasm. His own followed closely and he grunted, shuddering as his cock filled her with his seed. Pulling out his glistening rod, he looked deep into her eyes. She kissed him, drawing his tongue into her mouth and sucking it. With one hand, he again teased her nipples, the other quickly buttoning his pants before joining it, teasing her other breast. Althaea moaned, squirming under his touch, breathless.

“The time has come,” he said in a husky voice as he lightly kissed her face and neck. “Will you come?”

“I … yes. I will come with you.” Althaea wrapped her arms around him and he held her close. “You know how I feel. I can’t imagine life without you, my love.”

Lifting her from the bed, he gently kissed her soft pink lips. “Nor I you, darling.” Wrapping her in her bed sheets, he swept her out of the window, into the dark street below.

The thunder of hooves and clatter of carriage wheels were the only sign of their passing in the night.

Chapter One

“Here he comes!” Darin yelled from his vantage point inside the highest tower. He leaned out the window to make sure Bryant had heard him. “Is that really Him? Doesn’t look that tough to me!” The sentry squinted through the dust and the shimmering heat of the day. Before him lay the parched plane of Solitude, an arid desert stretching as far as the eye could see. Behind him, to the north, the land slowly became greener and in the far distance an ancient forest loomed. Their keep was on the border of this wasteland, standing high, a town steadily growing in it’s northern shadow.

Bryant looked through his far-seer at the dark, mounted man in the distance. “That would be him. They say he’s half vampire.” As he watched the man’s slow progress across the sand, the hairs on his neck stood on end. The dry scent of sand blew into his face and he brushed his hair from his eyes.

“Half vampire? Is his lordship out of his mind? He could kill us all!” Darin fairly yelled in shock. “Nobody ever said anything about a vampire.” He glanced back at the figure in the distance and shivered despite the heat of the day.

“Quiet, fool! Inform his lordship our visitor has arrived,” Bryant said, his gaze still glued to the man in the distance. Had he just looked his way, or was that a trick of the light? And yet he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that the rider had sensed his gaze and pinpointed his position regardless of the distance that still separated them.

“Yes sir,” Darin muttered, glancing fearfully at the approaching figure before disappearing back into the tower and taking off at a run.

Bryant wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, cursing the heat of the day. “I hope to God Lord Paxton knows what he’s doing,” he muttered under his breath. With a sweep of his cape, Bryant whirled and strode quickly from the ramparts. His boots clicked against the rough stone of the steps running along the side of the wall as he made his rapid descent. Reaching the bottom, he surveyed his men with a critical eye. Most of them leaned against the walls, wilting like plants. None of them so much as looked up when he approached. None sensed his apprehension about their visitor. “He’s coming! Move people! You there, get into position. I want this whole yard cleared before he gets here,” Bryant growled to his men as he stormed through the dusty courtyard to the main door of the keep. Last thing we want is that bastard knowing how few of us there really are, he thought to himself as he entered the keep.

Passing unhurriedly through the gates of the stronghold, Adrian drew back on the reins as he reached the keep and dropped lithely from his black stallion. The grounds were eerily quiet, devoid of any sign of human life, but he knew this was only for his benefit. His reception was the same no matter where he went. His mere presence brought out the fear in humans, as well as their hatred. Still, the scents of horse sweat, leather, and steel, of life, teased his sensitive nose, leaving him in no doubt that the stronghold was well manned. He felt the touch of countless eyes, knew beyond any doubt that they hid with weapons at the ready.

As he turned to survey the main keep, the dry wind ruffled his long black hair and whipped his cape around him, causing it to snap. In the silence that surrounded him, it echoed as loudly as the crack of a whip.

The stone of the keep, he saw, was the same drab brown as the sand all around it, so that the structure seemed to rise from it like a child’s sand castle. No plants graced the yards, though he couldn’t tell if nature, or man, prevented their growth. Scanning the ramparts, he noted tiny dark holes along the walls and knew it was from there that he was watched.

Ignoring the prickling sense of a hundred loathing eyes on his back, he walked through the massive, though plain, wooden doors unescorted and unannounced. A sardonic smile came to his lips as he smelled the fear of many men in the narrow antechamber. Had that smell not reached him, the stink of their unwashed bodies surely would have given them away regardless. Whispers sounded all around him, and he heard the telltale click of cross-bows being set. As his vision adjusted to the pleasantly cool dark of the room, he was finally able to make out a man at the far end of the great hall. Like all wise men, this one chose distance over courtesy.

“I’ve been expecting you.” The giant’s gravely voice boomed loudly in the cavernous room. “I am Lord Paxton, the one who summoned you here.”

Under Adrian’s intense gaze, the imposing man shifted back a step, putting more distance between himself and the vampire. Crossing his arms, he puffed out his chest, taking up even more of the small space around him.

Adrian studied him dispassionately, neither intimidated nor terribly impressed by the man’s stature. His attitude reminded Adrian of a bull frog, and he resisted the urge to laugh with an effort.

Despite his obvious uneasiness, Lord Paxton was obviously a man used to respect. His size alone would guarantee him his way in most cases, to say nothing of his considerable status, but his wariness was unnecessary in this case. Adrian had no interest in the mortal.

“My only child, Althaea, was taken from her room one night, almost a week ago now. I organized a search party, but they could find no trace of her. Several townsfolk mentioned seeing … a horrifying sight. A black carriage driven by a skeleton. The carriage….” He paused for theatrical effect. “My informants tell me it was Count Sorrell who took her.” His beady eyes never left Adrian, watching his face for a reaction that never came.

“Count Sorrell is a very powerful vampire,” Adrian said simply, weighing his words. “One of the oldest.”

“I know that, but I must have Althaea back. Her loss is more then I can stand. She is my only child. The heir to all I own.”

Ahh. The real reason he’s so desperate to have her back.

Lord Paxton mistook Adrian’s frown for one of concern over his problems and brightened. He tossed a brown bag toward Adrian “There is a down payment. Twenty thousand in all if you can get her back. You’ll have to hurry, though. You’ll have competition. I’ve already put a large price on Count Sorrell’s head.”

“If that is the case,” Adrian said coldly, “then why bother hiring me?”

Stunned by the turn of events, Paxton’s small eyes blinked rapidly. “Because you’re the best! I want only the best for my daughter.” When Adrian’s expression darkened, he deflated slightly. “I thought they would slow him down a little. They’re hunters. They know the risk,” he admitted. When Adrian’s eyes narrowed, he took a step back, placing his back up against the wall. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered, squirming under the vampire’s stare.

“You’ve sent countless people to their deaths for the sake of one girl. A girl for whom it may be too late. She may have already been tempted,” Adrian stated flatly, glancing at the portrait that hung on the wall behind the dais that was the focus of the room. It portrayed the sweetly smiling face of a lovely young girl. Her deep green eyes shown bright with life and her blonde hair cascaded around her face. “A vampire that old is hard to resist. I can see why he chose Althaea, though.” His eyes flashed as they met the count’s once more. “She may not want to be rescued. What are you going to do when she tries to rip out your throat?”

“Althaea is an innocent! She is good and pure! She would never….” Paxton managed to strangle out in protest, but lowered his eyes.

Adrian looked at him with hatred, knowing that there might now be hundreds of vampires, all for the sake of this one man’s pride and selfishness. What doubt he may have had of the man’s intentions was gone now. Still, he knew he would have to go, if for no other reason than the destruction of the vampire count.

“If you find her,” Paxton continued in a whisper, “and she has already crossed over, you have my permission….” He choked on the words. “I beg you to kill her! Give her a merciful death--free from pain if you can. I want her body back either way.”

***

The town stank of sickness and death. Dilapidated shanties, most of which had never known paint, huddled together like homeless folk. The rest exposed rotting, sagging wood under their chipping paint. The dirt road still held the rank evidence of the passing of horses, though Bronwen suspected the last had come through some time ago.

Uneasy for no apparent reason, she studied her surroundings cautiously from the back of her mount. Dirty, hopeless people, dressed in rags, leaned against the crumbling walls of the ill-kept houses. They lay in the dirty, narrow alleys. To Bronwen, they all looked alike, very little differentiating man from woman. Not one of them looked up at her as she passed.

Even the wind seemed subdued, as if it were holding it’s breath. For that she was grateful. She suspected that, had the wind blown with any strength at all, the houses around her would have fallen like cards, crushing her beneath them.

The dry grime seemed to leach the spirit from Bronwen and agitate her horse. The animal snorted, rearing up several times and threatening to bolt as they plodded along the dirt lanes that crisscrossed the town. She had her hands full controlling the beast. Such behavior was unusual for her mare and only added to her own growing sense of foreboding. As her nervous mare walked along in the heat, it’s eyes rolling, the hairs stood up on her arms.

"Too quiet," she muttered to herself. A sickening feeling clutched at her stomach. Nerves on edge, she urged her horse a little faster as they moved down twisting, meandering alleys in search of the town square.

Something told her these people wouldn’t have any supplies to sell her even if she could find the market. How do I get out of here? It seemed like she had been wandering around town for hours, completely lost, on a winding path that had no apparent end.

Coming around a turn to yet another dead end, she began the tedious task of backtracking for what must have been the fifth time in as many minutes. I wonder if all of these poor people were travelers like me. Trapped here with no way out. She shivered at the thought, allowing her horse to go a little faster, but they moved in an endless round, and she could discover neither the town square, which had brought her there, or the way out.

Coming up beside several shoe clad piles of rags, she drew the mare to a halt.

“Excuse me?” The figure slumping closest to her didn’t stir. “Sir? Umm. Could someone please tell me how to get out of here? I’m just a visitor here, so….” One pile seemed to loose it’s balance and rolled onto it’s side. I guess not. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find my own way.”

Her horse seemed only too happy to rush on and after what seemed an eternity, she finally entered an area that had obviously once served as the town square. Her heart sank as her previous suspicions were proven true. I guess these people are just too poor to even have a market, she thought to herself. There was not a soul in sight. The whole of it seemed completely deserted. A few empty booths leaned against the buildings backing them. The rest were merely piles of wood. That the place had ever held commerce was a stretch of Bronwen’s imagination. A strong breeze blasted through the empty space, rattling old planks of wood and bringing one of the few standing booths precariously close to falling.

“So … I guess I’d better get going then.” Bronwen brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “Might make the next town by night fall if I hurry!” She knew she wasn’t fooling herself, but it did lift her spirit a little. A bed of hard dirt could hardly be as nasty as this place.

She jumped at an unexpected sound, pulled at the reins to regain control of her dancing horse, then turned around in the saddle. A grubby man was slowly scuffling toward her down the street, his thin arms held out in welcome, grinning a toothless smile from ear to ear. His clothes hung loosely on his frame as though they had once belonged to someone much larger, leading her to wonder what force held them up at all. "Can I help you--?"

Detecting shadowy movement at the corner of her eye, Bronwen’s head snapped around to her left. Through the bare windows of the surrounding buildings, she saw dark shapes stirred, walking stiffly, as if unused to movement. Slowly, people stumbled out of their houses, filling the alleys and approaching her. She could feel her horse’s breath quicken and had to fight hard to control it, fearful it would throw her and run. After getting the skittish creature under hand for the time being, she turned again to face the growing mob.

"Oh great. An ambush. Listen people, I have a sword and I won't mind killing every---" She broke off as the mare screamed, laying its ears hard against its head and reared back, almost throwing her from the saddle. Wide-eyed, she clutched the animal’s mane, desperate to keep her seat as the creature bucked wildly.

A woman in tattered clothing moved forward, moaning, reaching for Bronwen with thin, rotting arms. In horror, Bronwen realized the truth of her situation—she was surrounded by zombies. Screaming, she unsheathed her sword and kicked her mare into motion at almost the same instant. The mare leapt forward, only too happy to dash away. Shuddering with revulsion, Bronwen hacked at the zombie woman as she passed. The sensation of flesh torn by steel and the sudden rancid stench released by the moving corpse sent a wave of nausea through her. Everything she’d seen since she’d arrived in the town suddenly made sense.

Down the road she thundered, the walking undead falling under the iron-clad hooves of her horse with her passage. Screaming in fear and anger, Bronwen swung her sword again, beheading two men who moved to block her path with one swipe. Their heads hit the dust, rolling. A thick black ichor spewed from their headless corpses, splattering Bronwen’s pants. Their bodies, undeterred by the loss of their heads, continued to grope for her with rotting limbs. Aghast that even decapitation failed to stop them, Bronwen recovered her presence of mind, kicking her wide-eyed horse past them.

I’m going to die here! Oh my god, I’m going to die in this hell hole! She could feel hysteria building and cursed her foolishness in even coming to this town, cursed herself for being ten times a fool for ignoring the instincts that had warned her of danger.

One, catching a long lock of her red mane as she flew past him, almost pulled her from her seat, but she held on, her eyes stinging as the wad of hair tore free. Behind her, the trodden zombies groaned, climbing to their feet, their black blood pooling around them to cover the ground. All around her they howled for her flesh. Twisting and turning down side streets, Bronwen cursed the unnaturally cramped alleys, imagining that even as she ran, the houses leaned in closer to cut her off. Every turn brought her face to face with more rotting, leering corpses and it was all she could do to retain control of her panic stricken horse and beat back her own growing panic.

Avoiding a wall of oncoming zombies, she guided her mare down yet another narrow, twisting alley, but as she turned a sharp corner, she found herself facing yet another dead end. Her heart lurched into her throat and a strangled sob escaped her. Through her tear blurred eyes, she saw as she turned her horse that the way she had come was already overflowing with the wretched mob.

Rotting faces leered at her. Their decaying flesh hanging in tatters on their bones, they reached out for her with freezing, dead fingers, slowly, but inevitably closing in on her. With a shriek that was half rage, half terror, she dug her heels into her quivering horse’s sides.

The beast took a running leap into the throng, jumping into a wall of rotting flesh. The little mare struggled valiantly to regain her footing, but she could not make it through. She crashed down on her side and Bronwen barely rolled to safety. The horse screamed in fear and pain as death cold hands grabbed and held it, pulling it down, dirty teeth ripping into its body. Bronwen landed amongst them, slashing with her sword, struggling to get her footing on the gore covered ground. Behind her, the horse’s screams turned to a gurgle. She winced at the sound. It hurt her for it to die such an agonizing death. She could not have brought herself to look, even if she had not been so besieged herself that she couldn’t afford to allow the distraction. Her own death staggered all around her, pushing each other out of the way as each fought to reach her first, hungering for her flesh. They tore at her clothing and ripped into her skin with their dirty fingernails, raising painful red welts on her arms. Crying out, she tried with little success to push them away, but little by little she lost ground until she found she’d been backed against a wall. She no longer had room to swing her sword so she held it out as a meager barrier to the nearest fiends.

“All right then, you bastards. Come and get me!” she screamed angrily, pulling out her dagger, determined to take down as many as she could. Cold white hands reached for her throat, flailing at her over the sharp edge of her sword. She sliced several off, kicking at the disembodied hands as they crawled toward her legs. Furiously, she hacked and slashed, pushing the growing horde back with all her might, searching desperately for a way out. The stink of rotting flesh choked her and she gagged. Her eyes watered, only further hindering her desperate battle. After a small eternity, she managed to fight her way out of the alley, only to face hopeless odds at an intersection she hadn’t even noticed. Where before there had been no sign of life, no sign of a threat of any kind, the streets now teamed with the undead.

“Damn it!” she screamed in hopeless rage. Despair over the sheer futility of her fight weighed on her, slowing her dagger and lowering her sword. For every zombie she managed to cut down, three more took it’s place. The road was bathed in black blood and Bronwen had to struggle just to stand in it … and still they came. Still, they blocked every avenue of escape.

Finally, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the sheer hopelessness of her situation, terrified of what the rotting masses would do to her, she realized with a sob of despair that she had no option but to turn her dagger on herself. Squeezing her eyes shut, Bronwen dragged in a deep, calming breath, struggling to hold herself still for a death strike, trying to steady her quivering hand. Inside she screamed. The thought of missing and only causing herself further pain almost caused her to drop the blade.

Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind and lifted by a strong arm. Stunned, more than a little alarmed, she grasped the situation the moment her butt connected with the rump of a horse. Grabbing hold of the tall man’s waist, she clutched to him like a vise, her whole body shaking in shock and relief.

Oh thank the gods! She buried her face against his back and finally gave in to shivering sobs as his huge horse reared, crushing the nearest zombies under its hooves.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much--” She gasped for air, overcome by emotion.

The zombies fell before the pounding of the war horse’s hooves as the rider gave the horse his head. In minutes they were completely clear of the village. Safe at last, Bronwen looked back over her shoulder. Her jaw sagged in disbelief as she saw for the first time how very small the village really was. Although the houses were, in truth, dilapidated as she had thought, there could have been no more than a few dozen of them.

“That’s impossible!” she gasped, unable to grasp the difference between what she now saw and what she had only just experienced—or thought she had experienced.

“That’s magic.”

Dragging her disbelieving gaze from the disappearing village, she looked at her rescuer’s back. “I spent hours wandering around that town. Most of my day! It was a maze of twisted alleys and streets. It was overflowing with zombies!”

He did not turn in the saddle, nor even acknowledge that he’d heard her. After a moment, she leaned out to the side for a look at her rescuer. That got a reaction. He glanced toward her briefly before focusing his attention on the road ahead of them once more.

Bronwen gasped as she finally got a glimpse of the man. Long, raven hair, whipped by the wind, streamed around a porcelain pale face in which the most notable feature was a pair of dark blue, deep set eyes.

Despite his pallor, he was unsettlingly handsome.

Leaning back, she lifted a hand self-consciously to her own freckled cheek. She had always despised her complexion, but had never felt particularly distressed by her lack of beauty—until this moment. Irritated, she dismissed the fleeting thought. Under the circumstances, it could not be more irrelevant.

“It was all magic. All meant to hold you there,” he stated coldly. “You are a hunter.”

It wasn’t a question. Bronwen stiffened, disconcerted. “I … how did you know that?” With an effort, she relaxed her death grip on him, allowing him at last to breathe. Self-conscious now, she wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and face with the back of her hand.

“You walked right into Sorrell’s trap. None of what you just experienced would have happened had you not been tracking him.”

Dumbfounded, she could think of no intelligible come back.

“That would have been a stupid mistake back there,” he continued. “If you’d killed yourself, you would have become a zombie.”

There was censure in his voice. She was fairly certain she deserved it for her cowardice, but she resented it all the same. “I just didn’t want to feel it … when they killed me. That’s all,” she muttered stiffly, feeling a surge of anger. Cowardly or not, she had the right to as swift and painless an end as she could manage and, considering the overwhelming odds, the hopelessness of her situation, she hardly felt she could be blamed for the despair that had brought her to the brink of self-destruction. She sucked in a deep breath and released one last shuddering breath, at last regaining control of herself.

He chuckled darkly, glancing back at her coolly. “I am Adrian Delano.”

The statement threw her instantly into renewed turmoil. “Not … the Adrian Delano, the Shadow Stalker? The vampire?”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I see my reputation proceeds me. I am he.”

The news almost knocked Bronwen from her seat. For several moments, she struggled between wanting to hold on to save her life and wanting to let go for the same. In the end, curiosity won out and she held on.

“Bronwen Ofira,” she offered in a voice that squeaked with nerves. “My name is Bronwen.” Her cheeks flared red. I just squeaked like a child! Come on Bronwen, get a hold of yourself. He’s a stinking vampire! Even if he did save your neck it was only so he could bite it himself!

Oddly enough, she realized after only a moment that her nervousness was not entirely a result of fear. The hard body she’d plastered herself against from the moment he rescued her had wrung far more than a sense of relief and comfort from her. Her body hummed with awareness of him as a desirable male, regardless of the reputation she knew him by, despite the fact that she was still more than a little shaken from her recent brush with death.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, worsening things. “I believe we should be safe now. They aren’t likely to follow us.”

Bronwen blinked with a feeling like waking from a dream, amazed that being with him she’d thought so little of what she had just come through, having a nasty suspicion that he’d used some sort of vampire powers on her. “I could have handled it without you, you know,” she snapped in agitation. “I wouldn’t have … gone through with it.” It was hard to keep her concentration pressed so tightly against his hard, muscular back.

“I’m sure.” Pulling his horse to a halt, he twisted in the saddle, grasped her around her waist and lowered her to the ground with one arm. His hand slipped up her body, a gentle caress. “There’s another village two miles from here. If you hurry, you may make it before dark.”

“What? You’re just leaving me here?” Bronwen asked in shock. “The least you could do is take me there! You can’t just leave me here!” She glanced nervously at the village in the distance, feeling her bravado completely desert her at the realization that he was abandoning her to fend for herself.

“I already told you they would not give chase,” he said, determined patience and a touch of amusement lacing his voice. “You didn’t really think I’d help you collect my reward, did you?” A faint smile curled his lips as he looked down at her. His gaze stroked her body suggestively. “Or did you desire my presence for another reason?”

In his eyes, she saw the promise of forbidden pleasures. The desire, the promise sent a renewed flush of awareness through her, momentarily distracting her. She shivered as she stared up at him. “Don’t be so sure of yourself, vampire,” she gasped breathlessly, determined to ignore her response to him. “I’m going to collect that reward. One way or the other.”

He chuckled darkly. “We will see.”

His horse reared up in display before charging off. Bronwen watched them disappear from sight, troubled by her tumultuous thoughts and strange feelings.

Chapter Two

Bounding across the parched plain, Adrian allowed himself the luxury of remembrance. Long ago this land had been covered in ancient forests. Life had abounded here and peace reined. Technology had been a large part of everyday life, bringing with it happiness and a false sense of security.

He wondered if those long dead people would recognize these dusty ruins. So much had changed when the first vampires had emerged from Rheim-Haima. They had never forgotten that humans--weak insignificant humans--had driven them underground. Their rage had seethed and grown uncontrolled for centuries until at last the time had come to strike.

Unlike vampires, humans had a way of forgetting their past. They considered vampires little more than fairy tales. Their surprise at the first attacks was utter. Ill-equipped for a fight against the undead, they fell hard and fast. A single vampire could fell an entire city. All of civilization crumbled, in time considered nothing more than legend itself. He remembered it all as though it had happened only yesterday and not millennia ago. His anger and determination burned as brightly as ever.

Shaking off the disturbing memories, Adrian returned his attention to the task at hand. After miles of running, his horse lathered in sweat, Adrian neared the small village he’d mentioned to Bronwen. The thought of her sent a twinge of guilt through him, but he knew leaving her was for the best. She was young and foolish, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by her.

The probability of seeing her die, should he have yielded to his desire to keep her with him, repelled him in a disturbing way.

I’m not attracted to her, he told himself firmly. In any case, I can’t afford distractions. I have to keep my mind on my work.

Somehow, that statement seemed hollow, but he resisted the urge to acknowledge the fact that he was lying to himself. Determinedly, he closed his mind to the piquant little face that had watched him leave so forlornly and dismissed the memory of the desire that had quickened his blood as she’d pressed herself tightly against him.

She was far better off that he’d abandoned her so callously. He had not rescued her from death only to take her immediately into danger once more.

He sensed that Count Sorrell had come this way recently. Indeed, the vampire was very close now. A cooling breeze ruffled through his hair, bringing the scent of his prey to him. Adrian brushed a lock from him eyes and scanned the area. He saw nothing out of place, nothing that indicated Sorrell had passed this way…. And yet, he knew his senses had not betrayed him.

Looking up at the rose colored sky, he realized his time was running out. If he did not reach Sorrell before night fell, he would loose his chance to slay the vampire count. That failure could easily be measured in human lives. Althaea might not get another chance.

Dismounting, he stood on the top of a hill beside the skeleton of a huge dead oak tree, gazing down upon a fog enshrouded necropolis. The countless unkempt graves told of a hard life in the nearby village. The dimming light cast shadow play across the ground, giving an illusion of ghosts dancing in the mist. The hairs stood up on his neck and he knew beyond doubt that he was not alone here.

Drawing his sword, he started the tedious trek down the side of the hill. About halfway down, the mist thickened so that, while many of the grave stones were still visible, many more were not. He stubbed the toes of his boots repeatedly on the hidden obstacles as he picked his way cautiously down the slope.

When he reached the bottom, he scanned his surroundings once more. In the valley between two large hills now, the mist was waist high to him, laying flat and still as wind could not reach it. Past ancient tombstones, and the fog lapping and swirling around him with each step, he felt Sorrell’s presence as he neared one of the many large sepulchers. The ornate stonework of the tomb looked menacing in the fading twilight, and Adrian approached with caution, his long black cloak floating behind. As he stepped across a grave, something beneath the fog seized his legs, stopping him in his tracks. All around him, the fog rolled tumultuously as it was disturbed by movement below it, earth shifting as hundreds of the undead unearthed themselves. Any chance for a surprise attack vanished.

“Damn!” Adrian hacked downward at the hands holding his legs.

Moaning in outrage, the undead reached for him. Pulling themselves free from their yawning graves, they turned their hollow sockets toward him, instinctively attacking the one living being among them.

Adrian’s attack on the one holding his legs succeeded at last as he severed it’s rotting hands. The mummified skin ripped, allowing the bones to fall out. He jumped onto a tombstone, knocking over a flailing skeleton in his way. They gathered around him, desperate for his flesh. Lashing out with his blade and beheading one in front of him, Adrian turned as another grabbed him from behind. The zombie clamped it’s yellowed teeth into his side. Another grabbed his cloak, ripping it from him with it’s long black talons. Others reached out for him, clawing his exposed flesh with their dirt encrusted fingers, leaving painful lacerations where ever they grabbed him.

He crushed the skull of the foul thing that bit him. Tearing away from the other zombies, he leapt onto another stone, teetering and almost falling as it crumbled under his weight. Bounding off it, he hit the ground running, sword raised before him in defense. Beheading two zombies that blocked his way, he continued with his momentum until at last clear of the hoard, however momentarily. Ever more zombies unearthed themselves. Generations of peasants cried out for his blood. He gazed around at them, cool detachment etched upon his face as he witnessed their growing numbers.

Turning his back upon the advancing threat, Adrian strode through the mist toward the tomb where Sorrell lay, determined not to be stopped by his army of undead. Ahead loomed more undead, blocking his path.

“I will not be defeated so easily, Count Sorrell.” Adrian spat out the foul name like a poison, knowing the vampire heard him. “You’ll have to do much better!” he shouted before running head first into the throng. With every swing of his sword, skin and rotten bone separated. The stench of the corpses choked Adrian, gagging him, but his goal lay in clear site, just beyond reach.

To the west, the last ray of sun faded away, purple sky withering to black in moments. The elaborate stone door of the sepulcher exploded out, blasted to dust by the awesome power of Sorrell’s anger. He loomed in the newly formed hole in all his evil might, his long black hair blowing around his darkly handsome face. Standing above Adrian on the stone steps of the tomb, he glared down through icy blue eyes. Drawing his sword, his pointed it toward the sky, then raised his empty hand palm up. The zombies collapsed as the magic animating them was drained by their master.

“You are a fool, Stalker,” he said, undying hatred dripping from every word. “Did you really think I would leave myself unguarded?”

“Not at all.” Adrian measured him with a cold glare. “I don’t intend to allow you to hurt the girl.”

“You will die as all that came before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Adrian calmly closed the distance between himself and the steps. Raising his blade as if to strike the vampire where he stood, Adrian pivoted abruptly, intercepting Sorrell’s blade as the vampire vanished, reappearing behind him. They bounced back from each other.

“Shadow shifting. Impressive. It has been months since the last time I killed one of your kind.”

Sorrell’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re the one who killed Drathar. He and I were the last. Who are you?”

“My name is of no importance. Still, if you insist on having it, I am called Adrian.”

“Your real name, if you please.”

Adrian’s lips lifted in a half smile and he shrugged one shoulder. “What does it matter? I’m here to kill you vampire. Were I you, I would worry more about my skin.”

Sorrell’s eyes narrowed, and he appeared beside Adrian an instant later, swinging his wicked blade at Adrian’s neck. Ducking just below the blow, Adrian struck out at the vampire’s legs, but struck only shadow. Behind him, Sorrell snarled, “You’re a traitor to your own kind, hunter. You disgust me.”

“Your time has come to an end. No matter where you go, no matter where you hide, I will find you. I will drive your foul race back into the abyss where you belong.”

In an instant, Sorrell was on him. Kicking out to the side, Adrian dove away, rolling around to swing at his opponent, steel ringing against steel.

They exchanged a thunder of rapid blows before Sorrell leapt away. “The girl is here of her own will. Are you the kind of man who would take a woman who does not wish to go?” he growled.

“Not at all.” Leaping forward over a tombstone, Adrian struck Sorrell’s arm a glancing blow. Sorrell retaliated with the hilt of his sword, striking Adrian’s head with a force that would have cracked a mortal’s skull, then shifting into smoke before Adrian could return the blow. Dazed, Adrian fell to ground, quickly rolling into a crouch. Standing, he shook his head to dispel the encroaching darkness. “I do not believe the girl knows what she’s getting herself in to, Sorrell. Can you honestly say she knows what you’re capable of?” Blood trickled from his head, and Adrian took a few moments to wipe it away. “You have killed countless innocents. What makes her any different from the rest?”

Solidifying behind him, Sorrell struck him in the side with his blade, cutting him deeply. Adrian fell to his knees, rolling and turning, his sword reaching for Sorrell’s throat.

“Sorrell!” Althaea rushed from the tomb past Adrian, knocking Sorrell out of the way and placing herself between the two combatants. Grabbing her around the waist, the Count spared Adrian one last glare. The pair faded into shadow, flitting away across the graveyard.

As though down a long tunnel, Sorrell’s voice rang in Adrian’s ears, “Stay away from us. The next time I see you, you won’t be so lucky.”

The world fell into blackness and Adrian knew no more.

Chapter Three

“I’m going to kill him,” Bronwen chanted to herself. Her legs stung from the cold and the strain of the long walk. Her high boots, although stylish, were surely not meant for cross-country hiking. “I can’t believe the nerve of that guy! Who the hell does he think he is?” The white ruffled shirt she wore clung to her sweat-chilled body. Black suede pants seemed to thin to nothingness in the cold of the night. She didn’t even have her neck guard or cloak, both stowed safely in a saddle bag.

“Attached to my saddle!” she grumbled to herself. “My poor horse, my equipment…. First I get attacked by zombies, then I get left out in the middle of no-where to find my own way in the dark! That damned vampire hypnotized me then left me, all alone, without even a horse to get to town with. That--that--bastard!” As miserable as she was, she knew someone had to be to blamed and it couldn’t be her!

“I’m going to torture him, then kill him.” She comforted herself with thoughts of the handsome vampire strung up by his toes over a vat of boiling oil. The thought brought pleasure, until she thought harder about his face. “Even when he’s gone, his magic works on me!” Trying hard to forget the erotic feel of his hand against her flesh, his strong broad shoulders, Bronwen cursed her own weakness. “I won’t fall for any more of his magic. He can’t use his powers over me if I don’t let him.” The words sounded foolish, even to her own ears, but it made her feel a little better to say them.

“Vampires.”

Through the deep shadows that lay over the land, she thought she saw movement on the top of the hill ahead. Squinting in an effort to pierce the darkness, she drew her sword and carefully approached. “Probably seeing things,” she grumbled. As she neared the area where she thought she’d seen movement, she dropped to a crouch, edging forward ever so slowly. The thing on the rise above her neighed, revealing itself as a horse. Checking to make sure no one was around, Bronwen ran up to the horse. She recognized it immediately as Adrian’s. She held out her hand to the beast and it nuzzled her palm.

“Oh, thank God!” she said, hugging the animal. It whinnied, apparently delighted to see a friendly face itself. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a horse in my life!” She managed to stop just short of kissing it, settling instead for a few firm pats on the neck.

“I know you’re Adrian’s horse, but where’s Adrian?” She looked around curiously but saw no sign of him nearby. He certainly would not have abandoned his horse, she thought, feeling a sense of foreboding creep up her spine. It was possible—but not likely—he’d made camp for the night and not secured the horse properly. She thought it extremely doubtful, however. Moreover, the horse was well trained. Even if Adrian had failed to picket the horse properly, she found it doubtful that the horse would have wandered far from his master. “Here, hold still.” With an effort, she mounted the charger.

“Now, it’s pay-back time,” she said loudly—just in case Adrian had left the horse unattended as some sort of trick. When there was no response to her challenge, she frowned, trying to think of other possibilities, but only one presented itself to her--Adrian had run into trouble. After a moment, she prodded the horse into a trot down the hill.

“Adrian?” she called out in a loud whisper, unnerved by the headstones that reared up at her through the shadows. She shivered as she noticed the bodies scattered among the grave stones. Though much of the scene was covered by mist, it only served to worsen the effect. All around, bodies lay in various stages of decomposition. Brushing a stray hair from her eyes, she kicked the horse to urge it on, determined to find the damned vampire and kill him for leaving her—if he wasn’t dead already.

“Adrian?” she said a little louder. There was no response. Nothing stirred around her. Even the crickets failed to perform their nightly serenade, she finally noticed. Though the moon was bright and almost full, she had trouble seeing in the ever swirling mist.

Unnerved as she was, with growing certainty that Adrian had already met with misfortune, she was still not prepared for the sight that assaulted her when at last she located Adrian.

“Adrian!”

Surrounded by rotting corpses, Adrian lay face first on the ground, as still as the grave. Dropping from the horse, Bronwen stumbled over to him, unable to believe he might be dead. She rolled him over, brushing the hair from his face with a hand that shook. Falling to her knees beside him to see him in the dim light, she looked for any sign of life.

“Adrian? Can you hear me?” Her heart skipped a beat as a low moan issued from his blue tinged lips. His cloak was missing, no doubt torn off in the battle he’d fought. His shirt was in tatters. She tore it off, leaning close in the darkness to examine his body for wounds. She discovered numerous cuts, scratches and bruises, but none seemed of a life threatening nature. Then she discovered a long gash that had cut him deeply on one side, just below the ribs. She stood, dug around in the saddle bags a few moments and returned with a long cloth. Using the remains of his shirt to form a pad, she wound the cloth she’d found tightly around him, hoping to stem the flow of blood. By the look of the crimson pool around him, he didn’t have much left to lose.

“Adrian? Adrian, you have to wake up. Come on. Don’t close your eyes now.”

His eyes fluttered open and his lips turned up at the corner. “So. You did make it after all. You’re rather slow at walking.” He broke off, convulsed by a spasm of coughs. “I expected you to come a long time ago. You’re still mad aren’t you?”

Despite her concern, irritation touched her at the reminder. “Ass. I plan to get you back for leaving me like that. I just want you well when I do. Think you can stand?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. At least, not unless you wish to stay here.” She was strong for her size, and it still took an effort to get him to his feet and steady him. He swayed, almost taking both of them to the ground. Finally, she managed to get him to the horse, but she knew he’d never be able to mount without help. Despite the chill in the air, she was soaked with perspiration by the time she had him on the horse. She waited until he’d steadied himself, then climbed on behind him, wrapping her cloak around them both. When they were settled, she nudged the horse, urging him into a fast walk, wondering why she had even bothered to look for the man after what he’d done to her. Damned vampire’s using his powers on me again. Just can’t stand to let well enough alone.

As soon as they’d cleared the graveyard, Bronwen began looking for a place to camp for the night, stopping at a clearing well away from the stench of the dead and the prying eyes of the village.

***

“I thought vampires were supposed to heal quicker than humans.” Bronwen stopped pacing momentarily and looked down at Adrian, worry etched across her face. The gash in his side was still bleeding and the scratches and bites from the zombies were angry and red. His skin had paled considerably, not an easy task since it was already white.

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” She barely managed to stop the catch in her throat. I don’t even know why I care. I just ... I just can’t leave him like this....

“Normally, we heal quickly.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Why am I even asking? He’s a vampire. He’ll save me a lot of trouble this way. I should be glad about all of this.... The thoughts seemed so hollow to her. He had saved her life. He’d never really done her any harm. Bet he’s using more magic on me. I wouldn’t put it past him. Her eyes narrowed at the thought. She tried pinching herself, knowing she would feel no pain if she had been mesmerized, but found, to her dismay, that that was not the case and her feelings remained unchanged. She felt desperately unhappy at the thought of Adrian’s death. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t certain she wanted to know, because she had a bad feeling that there was more to it than mere empathy for a fellow creature, more to it than a sense of obligation to him for saving her back at the village.

He chuckled dryly. “That would require--feeding.” The eyes that looked up at her were black with pain. He looked away. “I haven’t fed in a long time. I ... abhor vampirism.”

“Is that why you’re hunting Sorrell?”

“We both know I’m being paid--”

“I know, but ... it seems so personal for you.”

“It is,” he sighed heavily. “He has ended many innocent lives. He deserves to die for his crimes.” Adrian gasped, clutching his side. When the pain subsided, he said a little breathlessly, “I believe I will heal. Just not any faster than a mortal would.”

Looking down at him, Bronwen knew it for a lie. No mortal man could survive long in his condition. The bite of a zombie alone….

He needed to feed if he was going to live. She debated with herself for about five seconds. Breathing a long suffering sigh, she sat down beside him.

“All right,” she said, holding out her wrist, “you can feed on me. Just this once! But don’t think I’ll let you make a habit out of this!” A voice in her head screamed at her, but she knew it wouldn’t be right to let him die like this. “This is all with the understanding that you won’t leave me behind again. Or use any more tricks on me.”

Adrian looked at her wrist incredulously. “Tricks?”

“Yes tricks! You think I can’t tell? I’m not stupid! Now hurry up before I change my mind.” She squinted her eyes closed and shook her wrist at him.

“You can’t really mean--”

“I do! Let’s just ... get on with it. Do whatever you have to. Just don’t hurt me too much.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, taking her proffered wrist in his hand. “I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised. I give you my word I won’t … use any more ‘tricks’ on you.” His lips lifted in a slight smile. “As for the other--I can’t make a promise not to leave.”

Hateful man! She supposed she should appreciate his honesty. Most men would have agreed just so they could get what they wanted and still dumped her and walked off. She would’ve like it better, though, if he’d agreed and meant it. “All right,” she muttered resentfully. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected to get anything in return. She’d just thought it was worth a try.

As Adrian gently kissed the soft flesh of her wrist, that voice screamed again in her head. I can’t believe I’m letting this blood sucker feed off me. She knew she should have been more horrified, but when he started licking her wrist with his hot, wet tongue, the thought slipped her mind. Her eyes popped open in surprise as a thrill of sensation shot up her arm.

Sitting up, he trailed fire, softly licking and kissing her inner arm. A hot throbbing started deep inside her at his first touch, and Bronwen gasped, her eyes sliding half closed. Her thoughts scattered into disjointed chaos. Weakness swept through her, making her body feel as pliant as hot wax. He pulled her to the ground, moving his body over hers. She went without protest, without thought of one, feeling a pleasurable tension possess her as his weight settled over her. Where ever he touched her, her body tingled, became alive as it had never been before, seemed almost to reach out to him to seek his touch. She moaned in pleasure and encouragement as his lips grazed her own, caught her breath on a shaky gasp as he ran his tongue lightly over her lips, stoking the fire inside her.

The hard length of his cock strained against her leg as he rubbed himself against her, pressing against the cleft between her legs. Her body responded by flooding with moist warmth and she found herself unwittingly, instinctively, mimicking his rhythm, tilting her hips up and pushing against him each time he pressed his hard length against her. She ached for something unnamed, something her body desired infinitely.

Enthralled as she was, when he lifted his head, skated his lips across her cheek and kissed her softly on the neck, Bronwen found herself tensing for his bite. Oh God, here it comes—

But the nibble he placed there held no pain, sent a weakening rush of fire through her blood. His breath hot against her bared flesh, he kissed his way down to her bare breast.

Opening her eyes, she felt for puncture marks on her neck. “How did you get my shirt--” As his tongue darted out to lick her hard nipple, she realized the point was moot. “Adrian,” she moaned. “I thought you were going to….”

“Shhh,” he breathed against her quivering flesh, his breath hot against her skin. Her whole world burned as Adrian licked and teased her breast, his hand softly stroking the other. Trailing kisses down her abdomen, he slowly pulled her boots and pants off. He grasped her feet in his strong hands and rubbed them, kneading away the weariness of the long road. As those hands did their wonders, his kisses danced up her shins, burning her.

Dimly, she realized she should have been outraged, mortified. She had never allowed any man such intimate knowledge of her. She should have protested, at the very least. Somehow, though, she could not summon the will to resist, or protest.

Through pleasure glazed eyes she watched him remove the rest of his clothes. He ran his hands up her legs, kissing and licking them. She cried out as his lips brushed her inner thighs, moaning and squirming as he moved higher with his kisses. “Oh Adrian.” She gasped, arching her back as his fingers brushed against her woman’s mound.

He sat up and roughly pulled her toward him, lifting her legs over his broad shoulders. Before she could do more than gasp, his tongue darted out and licked her clit softly. She cried out at the intensity of the sensations that rushed through her, her fingers curling as she clutched mindlessly at the earth, instinctively fighting to catch herself as dizzying waves of pleasure washed through her. Reaching for him, she ran her hands through his long, black hair, lifting her hips for more. His hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks as he teased her sensitive woman’s flesh with his mouth and tongue. She moaned huskily, biting her lip as his tongue thrust inside her. Placing her soft hands over his, she moved them up and down her body in time with the quickening thrust of her hips.

After a moment, when she thought she could bear no more without shattering into pieces, Adrian withdrew his tongue, licking her nether lips, sucking on her clit. Pulling one hand from her grasp, he slowly slipped one long finger inside her as he flicked his hot tongue across her clit. He thrust his finger in and out, reaching deep inside her.

“Oh my,” she cried out as a flood tide of pleasure ripped through her body. Gripping his hair, she pushed his face down, aching for the feel of his tongue inside of her again. Adrian licked her deeply, thrusting in and out to lick her sweet nectar. Trembling with the aftermath of her climax, Bronwen collapsed weakly, sighing in satisfaction.

“Ahh--Adrian?” Thought was coming less than clear. “I thought you were going to feed. To heal yourself.”

Kissing a trail up her belly to her breasts, he suckled each nipple for a long, gratifying moment and finally lifted his head and smiled down into her eyes. “I just did, sweet. Not all vampires drink blood.”

“Adrian! You didn’t just--”

He stood up, offering her a hand. From where she lay, he looked truly impressive. His huge member was engorged and throbbing, it’s head resting against his washboard stomach. Bronwen gasped, imagining how that body would feel on top of her own. Eagerly, she reached up to him, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She breathlessly ran her hands down his chest. Leaning against him, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back for a kiss.

Briefly, he ran his lips over hers. His tongue darted out to lick their sweetness, sending shocks through her body. In the next moment, he released her. Stepping back abruptly, he turned, bending over to collect his clothes.

The sudden action almost sent Bronwen sprawling and her eyes snapped open. What the--“Umm. I thought we had to … uh….”

“It isn’t necessary. As you can see,” he said coolly, lifting his arm to present his side. “I am more than adequately healed.”

She stared blankly at the new pink skin. She wasn’t exactly certain of what he meant but decided she would just as soon not know when it occurred to her to wonder what part of what he’d just done constituted ‘feeding’. She turned away, her face flushing hotly.

Adrian sat down, pulling on his boots, and looked up at her. His eyes rested longingly on her firm buttocks. “I know you were willing to give me … a most precious gift, but it would have been taking unfair advantage of your generosity. I’m sorry, but I just can’t go through with it.”

She refused to look at him as she dressed, trying to bring order to her disordered thoughts as she set her clothing to rights. She knew she should be relieved that he’d stopped when he did, but she couldn’t help but feel insulted about the whole thing. My God! He doesn’t even want me. Her eyes widened at the realization. He did what he had to in order to heal. He didn’t really want…. She started fumbling with her clothes numbly, thoughts swirling in her mind. Idiot! You just had mind-blowing sex with a vampire that didn’t even want to do it in the first place! She groaned. It must be something about me. What else could it be? He’s a vampire! They never turn down a free meal!

“Rejected by a vampire,” she muttered under her breath. Well, I’m not going to let you get away with this you bastard! I’ll make you want me!

Finally able to hold her head up again, she turned around and looked coldly at Adrian. “We should go.” Walking over to the horse, she mounted.

He studied her a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re right. We need another horse. This one can’t take two riders much longer.”

She sent him a cold look. “I couldn’t agree more. In fact, let’s give him a rest, shall we?” She kicked the horse into motion. Startled, the horse leapt forward so that she caught barely a glimpse of the look on Adrian’s face.

“I guess you’re right. Lead on lady.”

She would have been more satisfied if he’d protested, or sounded indignant that she’d outsmarted him and taken the horse. The fact that he seemed to take it in stride stung, but Bronwen didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back, but she resisted the temptation to ride off and leave him to his own devices as he had her. Personal feelings aside, she felt a lot safer traveling with him.

They followed a narrow track through the hills for about half an hour. Long, green grass swayed around them as they walked, enticing the horse. The charger became increasingly hard for Bronwen to control, preoccupied with gorging himself. Every few steps he wrenched his head away from her control, quickly munching mouthfuls of grass. The soft breeze felt cool against her cheek and brought with it the scent of wild flowers and, faintly, wood smoke.

“We can’t be far now,” she said as she crested a hill. “Oh.” Bronwen looked down at the quaint, though tightly packed, village. The small town, huddling behind a wooden palisade, looked rather crowded. Every few feet, another crucifix stood atop the barricade, meager protection for the inhabitants.

“Woah horse!” At this the horse stopped mid-step, his head dropping to the grass, and she wondered fleetingly if she’d ever be able to move him again. “Adrian?” Looking back over her shoulder she saw him at the top of the hill she’d just started down. He stared at the village, a raw emotion in his eyes that she had no name for. Something about his manner made her very uneasy.

“Are you … all right? Adrian?” This last seemed to snap him out of it and he shook his head several times. His gaze came to rest on her for a instant before he focused on the village again, walking stiffly toward it. The horse surprised her by following slowly behind him. For her own part, Bronwen watched his back in silent turmoil.

Entering the gate behind Adrian, her mount kicked up dust with every step as they made their way along the packed earth that passed as the town’s main street. She tried rather unsuccessfully to ignore the townspeople all around her, who stopped what they were doing to stare. The hair on her neck stood up and she began to wonder if she had wandered into yet another zombie trap. Then the realization hit. They weren’t even looking at her. She blew a breath of relief, glad it wasn’t her they scrutinized. Hearing several gasps, she realized that they were enthralled by Adrian. He walked tall and proud in his dust covered clothes, completely ignoring the horror of the villagers.

“I believe that we’d better hurry,” she muttered to herself.

Adrian turned slightly, “I agree.”

Not a very friendly crowd.

Spotting the stables at last, she sighed her relief. A tall wooden structure, it looked like it had seen better days. There was no glass in the small windows of it’s front facade and the smell of horse permeated the area. She dismounted and stood by the wide double door. Bending over to stretch out her arms and legs, weary of the long road, she looked over at Adrian’s approaching boots. “You go ahead. I’ll just wait out here for you.”

An old man in plain brown garb stood in one of the stalls slowly grooming a large black horse. “You can have any horse here for thirty pieces of gold. If you don’t like the price….”

Adrian dropped a bag of money on a table near the door. “I’ll take that one.”

The old man looked at him over his shoulder for several minutes before walking across the stable. His gate was slow and labored, but his hands were sure as he collected tack for the horse. “This should do you. If you want anything else--” The old man held it out for him in offering.

“That will be fine.” Adrian took the saddle in one hand and lifted it to the snorting mount’s back.

“I should warn you. He’s a wild one.” Sitting heavily in the only seat in the barn, the man quietly observed him as Adrian worked the buckles and straps, quickly and efficiently saddling the prancing horse.

Ever aware of the man’s amused interest, Adrian remained silent, his sure hands reaching out to stroke the horse when it neighed too loudly, calming it with a touch. He continued even when the constable and his posse stormed into the barn, swords drawn.

“All right you, get your hands off that horse! Get the hell out of here!” The tall, lean man glared at Adrian, damning him with his eyes.

The stable owner was on his feet in a moment, glaring angrily at the constable and the mob behind him. “Who invited you in? That man paid good money for that horse.”

Glancing at the pouch of money on the table, the constable walked over. With a sneer, he knocked the money off, bursting the pouch and scattering coins across the floor. “We don’t need your money here. We don’t sell to vampires, so just take it and go!”

“That’s my horse and I’ll sell it to anyone I want to,” the stable man roared angrily. Turning to Adrian, he continued, “Get on your horse and go stranger.”

“Now Keehn, you know you can’t sell to a vampire. There are laws against it in this town. Everyone knows that.”

“What laws? I’ve never heard anything so absurd!” Standing, Keehn hobbled over to stand in front of the constable. “You can’t just make things up when it suits you, young man. I’ve had about enough of your nonsense for one day.”

“I’m not--”

“Quiet!” A knife appeared in Keehn’s hand and he held it hard against the man’s neck. “Don’t move.”

The angry mob had ignored Bronwen as they rushed into the stable. Bronwen debated with herself briefly, but, as tempted as she was to make tracks, she knew she couldn’t do it. No matter what he was, he had done no harm and she could not abandon Adrian to face that angry mob alone.

On the other hand, it seemed less daring than purely stupid to rush them from behind when they had yet to do more than bluster and mutter angrily. After a moment, she moved to the window to see what was going on inside. To her surprise, Adrian was calmly mounting the horse he’d purchased while the stableman held the constable with a knife at his throat.

“What are you doing you old fool? Have you lost your mind?” He slowly lowered his sword, his eyes rolling over to his men. “Drop ‘em!”

“I may be an old fool, but that’s a hell of a lot better than what you are constable. Now if you don’t hold still, I’ll use this one you.” He pressed the knife into the constable’s neck, drawing a long line of blood. “I may even enjoy using it.”

He sighed and looked at Adrian. “I may be an old fool now, but I was young once. I remember how, long ago, several children were stolen from this village.”

“We all know about that. That’s why we have the crosses and the palisade. That’s why we have the laws!”

“You don’t know anything about it. The people of the village pooled their money to hire a vampire hunter. He did his job well. A lot of vampires died by his blade and all of the children were saved. And what happened when he brought them back to town, to their parents?”

“We--”

“Shut up! I’ll tell you what happened. When he brought them back to town, the people ran him out. They said he was a vampire himself. They threw stones at him, drew their blades on him.”

“It just shows that you can’t trust a vampire, that’s all that proves! If he’d been paid, he might have decided to stick around a while.”

“He did the job! He saved all of those children and the cowardly villagers tried to kill him for his pains.” Keehn looked at Adrian with tears in his eyes. “I never got the chance to thank you back then but…thank you, stranger. I know I owe my life to you.”

All of the men gasped as one, their eyes widening in fear as they stared at the stranger. Bronwen’s jaw went slack in stunned surprise. Adrian? A hero?

“That’s right.” Keehn glared at them and, surprisingly they lowered their heads, shamefaced. “I was one of those kids.” He turned to Adrian. “Get on out of here while you can.”

The men parted as Adrian silently trotted through, bowing slightly as he passed Keehn. After staring for some moments at the stableman, and glancing at Adrian’s departing back, Bronwen finally turned her horse and wordlessly followed Adrian out of town.

A lump grew in her throat as she watched his back. Maybe I’m just getting used to traveling with him, but I can’t believe people are so cruel! They’re as bad as the vampires.

Chapter Four

They rode in silence through the hill country beyond the village. Before them, the mountains loomed ominously black against the cloud filled sky. Even from a distance Bronwen could see they were a barren wasteland. The lush grasses that covered the hills they’d been traveling through for hours ended abruptly, giving ground to scraggly, stunted bushes and muted gray sand. Following the twisting road with her gaze to the valley between the two largest mountains, she thought she saw a hint of green, but that could as easily have been her eyes playing tricks. “Doesn’t look like this road is traveled often,” she noted, breaking the silence at long last.

The ruts formed by Sorrell’s carriage and horses were the only tracks on the dried up river bed ahead of them. “I can see why,” she glanced up again at the mountains, then looked over at Adrian. “Why didn’t they even try to hide their tracks? Surely they know we’re still following them!”

“They don’t care.”

Bronwen frowned. Perhaps Sorrell thought he had destroyed Adrian? If he did, it would certainly explain, for no one else would be nearly the threat to the powerful vampire that Adrian was. She considered it for several moments and finally decided she must be right. On the other hand, she still found their apparent destination a puzzle. Slightly annoyed at Adrian’s nonchalant manner, she continued, “I just don’t see why they would choose the mountains. It’ll slow them down a lot. And for what? There isn’t even anything on the other side!”

Adrian glanced fleetingly in her direction. “They aren’t going to the other side.”

“Where then? You know, don’t you?” she stated flatly.

“My dear, there are some places no sane man would follow, some trails the living dare not travel. I know were they are going.”

Bronwen shivered at the foreboding tone of his voice.

***

Her soft golden hair lay across his chest. Althaea’s blue eyes were closed in sleep. Listening to her rhythmic breathing, Sorrell wished he too might know sleep again. How long has it been since I was mortal? It seems an eternity has passed, yet eternity yawns before me. He twirled a lock of her hair in his fingers, admiring the play of moonlight shimmering in the open window of the moving carriage. A cool night breeze blew in, carrying with it the scent of the night. An orchestra of life played outside, some notes so minute only he could hear them.

Who will mourn us, when the last vampire is dead? Will she? Althaea moaned softly in her sleep and he rubbed her back lightly in comfort. His eyes were drawn briefly to the pulse in her neck. His fangs ached as he watched the sweet flow of life. Snapping his eyes shut, he turned and cursed himself. Such an innocent creature does not deserve pain. She would be better off without me in her life.

Reaching to the floor of the carriage where his clothes lay, his hand brushed against a letter. Curious, he lifted it to study it, and his gaze came to rest on it’s broken crest. The black flame, symbol of the Countess DeVane.

I wonder if the stories are true. It seems…so impossible. Sorrell had never before seen Rhein-Haima, only heard hushed stories, the tellers themselves unsure of it’s existence.

The parchment in his hands was worn from his constant touch. Opening it carefully, his gaze slid to the elegant script of the Countess.

Dearest Count Sorrell,

I understand the pain you must be suffering at this very moment. I, too, have loved a mortal, so your pain is not unlike my own. I would like to offer you my assistance. If you truly seek your freedom, come to castle Alygor. My men will wait at Chasm Bridge to escort you. Upon your arrival, I will lead you down the path to the underworld. I pray night and day for your safe arrival.

Sincerely,

Countess DeVane

The words rang through his mind as he read them, savoring every word, yet afraid to believe them. The path to the underworld. A place where vampires are free. Where none are hunted and no cursed sun burns in the sky. Would we really be safe to love there? Can we truly be safe anywhere? Folding the parchment, he placed it within easy reach.

Sorrell breathed in the sweet scent of the fragile woman who slept upon him. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her. Could a creature of the light survive in a land of total darkness? So very far from the people she knows, the sun she adores? I doubt she can even imagine such a place in her nightmares. It would be cruel to take her, but cruel too to stay here. Her fellow mortals could never understand our love.

Sighing, the count fell deep into his dreamless sleep, a world of troubles unable to follow.

***

“Castle Alygor?” The name sent chills down Bronwen’s spine. The sound of it seemed somehow unwholesome, but that could be because she, like everyone else, had heard the dark, whispered rumors.

“It is a blight upon the land. The very earth it stands on is blackened from it’s evil. Somewhere in it’s catacombs is the path to the underworld, a place few mortals have descended into. As far as I know, none have ever returned.”

Bronwen wondered how he could speak so matter-of-factly about it. Maybe I’ve only imagined the good I believed I saw in him. Maybe he’s as cold-hearted as all the other vampires, she said to herself, then her eyes widened on a sudden thought. I bet he’s been there! That would explain a lot. She eyed him with curiosity, his every word seeming to take on new meaning. Riding side by side down the dusty road, it was a simple matter of glancing to her left to see his chiseled features. She followed his high cheek bones, her gaze coming at last to rest on firm lips, hypnotic in their movements.

Adrian continued, seemingly unaware of her scrutiny, “I know the route Sorrell must take to get to the castle. I have traveled it often myself.”

“So you’ve been to the castle before? Her you ever been into the underworld?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. The important thing is that our path will become hard as soon as we reach the mountains. I really would prefer you didn’t go. I’m not so sure I’ll survive this myself.” He glanced over at her, noting her pallid face for the first time and frowned. “Are you well? Would you prefer to stop and rest a while?”

“What? No. I’m just fine,” she said, licking suddenly dry lips.

As his comments sank in, a surge of indignation went through her, dispelling her curiosity about his past. How dare he imply she was such a weakling? I’m just as good a fighter as he is! Hell, I could kick his ass if I wanted to.

Truthfully, she wasn’t completely sure that she could, but at the moment, she really wanted to try.

Anyway, hadn’t it already been hard enough? Hadn’t they endured hardships that would have made most folks turn tail and run? But she’d stuck it out. Wasn’t that proof enough that she was no weak willed, weak minded female?

She wasn’t about to point that out, however. Obviously, he thought nothing of the difficulties they’d already faced. Voicing her thoughts, as if she thought them a severe trial, would only make her appear to agree with him. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, so it’s mountainous. So what? I’ve traveled through lots of mountains before. I even scaled the top of one in a blizzard one winter!” Not quite the truth. It was summer and she did have those men on her trail…. “You’re talking about this like it’s a trip to Hades or something.”

Adrian sighed, taking on a tone that sounded suspiciously like he was talking to a child, “The land has been perverted by the proximity to the underworld. This is the only place in the world where one can get to Rhein-Haima, the city of the night. Those who die on the scorched earth are forever cursed to walk the night.”

Shaken, Bronwen swallowed several times against the fear that clogged her throat before she could find her voice again. “How long will it take to reach Alygor?”

“At least one week. It depends on how much we’re slowed down by what we encounter there … And whether or not we’re able to complete the journey.” He paused for several moments, studying her in a way that made her very uncomfortable. “I doubt either of us will survive.”

Chapter Five

“It was once a temple to the Goddess of Water. In years past, humans worshipped such deities. It didn’t last long, from what I understand, but it was still before you were born.” With a thought from it’s master, the door to the carriage slowly swung open.

Althaea brushed her hand against his cheek. “You are too kind to me.”

“Sit in the sun light.” He reached up to hold her hand, his hot tongue darting out to lick her wrist. Turning it over, he examined her soft dimples, her elegantly long, tapered fingers. “There are so many things I’d rather do with you, but I know how you miss the sun my love. We will stay here as long as it takes for my slave to tend the horses. Please ignore him. Go out and enjoy yourself while you can. He will not bother you.”

She withdrew from the carriage, stepping out of the way so the door could close itself, careful not to look at the skeleton ambling around the horses. While vampires might be able to get used to such a horrid thing, she doubted she ever could.

Althaea stood still for several moments with her eyes closed, taking pleasure from the feel of the warm sunlight against her pale skin. When at last she opened her eyes, she scanned the area, amazed that such beauty could be found in such a forsaken place. Wisteria vines climbed up delicately carved pillars of gleaming white marble. In a few areas, the columns had crumbled, but most were still intact, supporting an arbor of sorts. Where the dark purple of wisteria did not show, the pale pink of wild rose did. Their combined vines spanned the arbor, shutting out most of the light and offering cool shade. The aroma of the flowers was truly wondrous and Althaea walked closer to immerse herself in their scent.

On either side of the dark path running between the pillars, clear water rested in immense bathes, giving one the appearance being in the middle of a lake. Walking to one side and looking down into the mirror of it’s plane, she thought she could see the bottom. Curious, she bent down and reached for it with her hand, finding it mere inches below the surface. With a smile on her lips, she stepped out into the cool water, crossing over to sit on a large, ornate stone bench.

Ahead of her, the black mountains towered, looking for all the world like a poison the earth could not hold inside. In a way that’s true. Her gaze ran down along their summit and tried unsuccessfully to penetrate the depths of the valley, a path she knew they were soon to take. The road seemed to disappear, swallowed whole in darkness. Giving up, she rubbed the strain from her eyes. What am I doing? The sky rumbled, threatening rain, but she ignored it. Her mood was as ominous as the craggy peaks before her and when she opened her eyes, they again went to the road ahead, her mind wandering instead down the road she’d come.

When she had first met Sorrell, she had been terribly frightened. Expecting the worst from him, she had been most surprised by his tenderness. In every way the gentleman, he had swept her off her feet. He makes me feel alive. More alive than ever before. I love him so much it scares me sometimes. Still…I miss my father, my family. I miss home. So much has happened since I left the keep. So many lives have been ruined. I left to be with Sorrell, but our happiness paved the way for other people’s sorrows. How can I truly be happy knowing that so many people have suffered because of me?

She looked down at her reflection in the water. Her blue eyes were circled by dark skin, so worried was she about the future that she could never seem to rest. Even in sleep, she could not escape her turmoil. Will I forever be damned for what I have done? How can I continue to look so much the same when everything has changed? I’m not the person I used to be.

Gasping at the sound of a splash close by, she whirled around. She was on her feet in an instant, poised to flee. Meeting cold blue eyes that quietly observed her, she found herself unable to move, a trapped and frightened deer. Before her stood a tall man, darkly handsome. His long black hair blew back from his pale face in a hard breeze.

“You sit in the sunlight, so you must still be mortal. So why do you stay with him?” His voice was hardly more than a whisper, but something about it unnerved her more than a shout.

“I--” She took a small step back, followed by another.

“My name is Adrian. I’m here to rescue you. You aren’t a vampire, so you need not fear me.”

She stopped. Her eyes hardened. “I don’t fear you, nor do I desire your help. I love Sorrell. I would rather die than be separated from him. If you have any mercy in your soul, you will leave us alone.”

“It’s because I have mercy in my soul, as you put it, that I can not.” His eyes flashed. “You don’t know what he’s like, Althaea. You can’t imagine what he’s done.”

“I know that he loves me. That is all that matters--”

She was so engrossed in her conversation with Adrian, she failed to react to the sounds behind her than indicated further threat.

Bronwen spun the other woman around and dealt her a slap that was forceful enough to whip Althaea’s head sideways. “Fool! The man you love is a monster. Do you have any idea how many people have died because of you?” When Althaea didn’t meet her eyes, she screamed, “Do you?”

“I--I’m sorry about it. Can’t you tell how sorry I am?” She looked into Bronwen’s eyes through her own hot tears. “I love him! I love him so much. How could I ever leave? I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I never wanted anyone to die,” she said, sobbing, though it was obvious she was trying to contain her tears.

Unmoved, Bronwen grabbed her wrist, wrenching it. “Move it! You’re coming with us.”

“No! Let go of me!” She twisted, digging the nails of her free hand into Bronwen’s arm. Briefly, they struggled, but Althaea managed to pull free. “Just leave us alone!” Althaea turned and bolted, barely avoiding Bronwen’s grasping arms. Never looking back, she tripped several times in her mad flight for freedom.

“Bronwen!”

Before she could decide whether to pursue Althaea or turn toward Adrian, she was snatched up so tightly she couldn’t even breath. Looking down in horror, she saw two bleached arms … the arms of a skeleton. She gasped for air, trying in vain to free herself. Within moments, blackness danced at the edges of her sight, eating away the light. A roaring noise filled her ears, making it impossible to hear anything else. Is Adrian just going to stand there? Did he run after that idiot and leave me here to die? She thought frantically, but her thoughts grew fuzzy as the blackness drew in upon her and the fight went out of her. Her head lolled on her shoulders.

Adrian rushed Sorrell’s slave, hacking several times at the skeleton with his sword, but it would not release Bronwen. His strikes grew even more frantic as her eyes rolled up in her head. He knew the vise-like grip of the dead was killing her fast, but he had to aim with care to keep from striking Bronwen. Finally, seeing she would be dead if he did not manage her release, prudence took the place of safety. He jammed his blade between the bones of the skeleton’s forearm, twisting with all his might until he heard at last the satisfying crack of bones. Dropping it’s victim finally, Sorrell’s slave turned on Adrian, pulling out it’s own rusted sword and rushing at him, swinging for his head. Cold steel met steel in a shower of sparks.

Crumpled on the ground, Bronwen’s first cohesive thought was of the strange wetness on her back. Opening her eyes, she sat up, only to fall back again as dizziness overtook her. She rolled over, realizing then that she’d landed on her back in the shallow pool. Through what almost seemed a fog, she saw Adrian’s battle with the thing that had held her in a death grip. His blade was lightening, unearthly in it’s swiftness, but the undead creature he fought was almost as fast. She knew it had the added advantage of feeling neither pain nor tiredness, but she knew that in the end Adrian must win. He spared her a fleeting look, costing himself a minor flesh wound on the arm.

Her body felt leaden. It took an effort even to speak, but she knew what Adrian expected of her. “I’ll get the girl. Think you can take care of skinny here?”

“I’ll be fine.” A quick jab took another rib off the skeleton. Pieces of bone lay scattered in the water, the blood from his own wounds dissolving as they struck the surface of the pool. “You go get the girl if you can.”

She nodded, slowly got to her knees, aware that she didn’t actually have time to spare, but knowing too that the earth could come crashing up to meet her again if she wasn’t careful. She shook her head, trying to throw off encroaching blackness. Shaking her head only seemed to rattle her brain, however, making it hurt.

Finally dragging herself to her feet, Bronwen stumbled through the water the way Althaea had gone. Goose bumps rose all over her body and her pants were plastered to her legs, to say nothing of the thin stream of cold water running down her ass. The ring of clashing swords faded, drowned out by the sudden thunder of horse hooves. For several moments, Bronwen thought the sound was unconsciousness rushing back upon her as it had roared toward her when the skeleton had been squeezing the life from her. She identified the sound just seconds before the carriage crashed past her and jumped to the side, slipping and falling flat on her butt.

Clambering to her feet, Bronwen watched the flight of the carriage. Althaea, her long hair streaming gold in the light, had climbed into the coachman’s seat. She whipped the horses mercilessly in her desperation to escape.

“Damn it!” Angrily, Bronwen struck the water, then wiped it from her eyes. “I can’t possibly catch them on foot! I should never have left my horse.” Still breathless from her effort to catch Althaea, she pulled herself up from the water, again, and turned to hurry back to Adrian to see if he needed her help in dispatching Sorrell’s slave. Her toes squished in her boots, both of them wet through. “As though they weren’t uncomfortable enough before!”

The battle, she saw as she returned, was finished. Running from under the arbor, she splashed through the water to where Adrian stood, clutching his side. “You’re hurt! Here, let me see.”

He waved her away. “It’s nothing, sweet. He just got in a few lucky hits,” he said, gesturing at the pile of bones before him.

At that moment, lightening crashed and the sky opened up, pouring freezing cold rain down on them. It mirrored Bronwen’s mood. “Just when you think things are their worst, something else happens,” she muttered.

Adrian smiled faintly, relieved that she seemed to be none the worse for her ordeal. “You look…appetizing like this.” His gaze caressed her body, the whole of it exposed by her clinging, soaked clothes. “I rather like the look.”

A thrill of excitement the cold rain could not quite extinguish ran through Bronwen at the look in his eyes and she could feel heat building in her sex under his gaze, but then she recalled what he’d said to her before when she’d offered herself to him and it effectively doused her arousal. “Uhh, I really think we should get out of this rain.”

Turning away from him, she trudged back to the meager shelter of the flower covered arbor, chastising herself for a fool. What am I thinking? He made it clear enough he didn’t want me, didn’t he? “I can’t believe our luck,” she said as Adrian joined her. Ignoring the questioning look he sent her, she studied the angry gray sky.

“It will slow them down more than it can us. A carriage, through the mountains? I’m sure they’ve already been forced to take shelter. Nothing to do now but rest.” He sat down, leaning back against a column and opening his arms for her.

Bronwen stared at him for several moments, torn, wondering if he was offering more than sharing his warmth. At the thought, she shivered, but with more than the cold. After a moment’s hesitation, she joined him, curling up against him.

“It’s just too cold to lay by myself, so don’t get any ideas vampire,” she said through chattering teeth. She shivered as his hands ran under her shirt and up her back.

“Sshhh. I only meant to warm you up. Unless you’d rather just get out of those wet clothes?”

“I--no, that’s fine.” She closed her eyes and soon found herself pushing up into his touch. “Mmmm. That feels good.” The firm rubbing became a massage, kneading the tension from her back and shoulders. “You’re a strange one. You know that?”

“How so?” He slid her shirt farther up her back, exposing her soft flesh.

“You’re not like a vampire at all! I mean, not like any I’ve ever heard of. Since I became a hunter, I’ve seen so many horrible things, so many lives ruined, so much death. I’m so sick of all the death.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “It seems like vampires are always to blame, Adrian.”

He shook his head, lifting her chin with his hand, stroking her face. “I can see why you choose to hunt them. I know about your family. I know what drives you to it, but a hunter’s life is no life.” He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to live like this.”

“Maybe so, but this is all I have! Someone has to do it. Someone has to stand up and stop them. What I don’t understand is why you do it. You don’t seem to enjoy killing, not like the other hunters. I know you’re not in it for the money!”

He looked away. “No, I don’t enjoy it. I don’t need the money. It just has to be done.” He turned to look at her again, gazing deeply into her eyes. “I have to do it. Not you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Why do you do it? You’re half vampire yourself,” she blurted out. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” I didn’t mean that the way it sounded!

He held up his hand to stop her. “It’s all right. I know. I hunt them because I’m part vampire. I don’t get to have a life. Not like you.”

A soft breeze played through Adrian’s hair and she reached up to brush a strand from his face, finding herself unable to take it away. Almost of their own volition, her fingers rubbed against his smooth face.

She realized then that Adrian had used no magic on her but the magic that was him. Somehow, against all she believed in, she had come to care for him. She didn’t know how, or why, or even when it had happened … maybe from the very first … She only knew that she did and that she was willing to risk everything only to be with him for a little while. “You deserve better than that.”

Climbing onto her knees, she leaned over to kiss him softly, holding onto his shoulders for support. He ran his fingers through her hair, his hard hands coming to rest behind her head and he drew her into his lap.

Leaning closer, she opened her mouth to him and felt the glide of his lips over hers as they explored her, felt a thrill of pleasure as his tongue slipped between her lips and explored her warm mouth.

After a moment he released her and made her sit up. Lifting her shirt over her head, he discarded it and lowered his face to her breasts, kissing and licking her nipples.

She moaned, curling her fingers in his hair. Beneath her buttocks, she felt his cock grow hard, nudging her cleft, separated from her by nothing but a layer of cloth. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she shifted so that she was straddling his lap. Instantly, the pleasant euphoria that had descended upon her with his kiss multiplied tenfold. She moved her hips, grinding her clit against his hot member, causing him to groan. Adrian’s hands brushed up and down her thighs as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his broad chest. Her own mouth found his nipples and she teased them with her teeth. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. She broke off her sucking to lick and kiss a trail up to the side of his neck.

He swallowed with some difficulty, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Almost reluctantly, he stilled her movements and pulled back. “Bronwen. Are you sure? I don’t want to … do this unless you’re sure.”

The rumble of thunder infused the air with the scent of ozone. In it’s glow, she could see the questions on his face.

She met his pale blue eyes, slowly unfastening her pants. Taking his hand and pulling it in, she moaned in pleasure as one of his fingers sank into her wet cleft. “I want you,” she said hoarsely. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

He pushed his callused finger deep into her moist folds, thrusting in and out slowly. Bronwen put her hand behind his head and pulled him closer even as her hips moved against his finger. “Mmmm. Oh Adrian,” she gasped as he slipped another finger into her, slowly rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Restlessly, she caressed him with her soft hands, brushing across his chest gently and down his sides. When she reached the waistband of his pants, he growled and kissed her passionately, sending jolts of heightened pleasure through her. When he ended the kiss, his mouth moved down her jaw line to the side of her throat. She wriggled her hands into his pants and encircled his cock tightly with her fingers. Adrian gasped at the feel of her hands and thrust his fingers into her more rapidly as she softly stroked the head of his cock. He kissed a fiery trail down her neck to each breast.

Bronwen’s hips rose and her eyes squeezed shut as his fingers curled up inside of her and pressed against a spot inside of her that made her heart thunder in her chest, his thumb still furiously rubbing her clit. She felt the inner walls of her womanhood spasm and she cried out with the release of her orgasm. Her whole body shook from the force of it. His tongue, still licking her breasts, was almost more than she could stand. He finally removed his fingers, taking her in his arms and holding her close to his chest. She lay her head against him, listening to his heart beating.

Adrian nuzzled her hair, breathing in her natural musk, fighting the sense of regret that seemed to engulf him. “The rain is stopping.”

Bronwen opened her eyes, not moving her head, and saw he was right. The rain was little more than a sprinkle now, slowing even as she watched.

“Are you sorry you did it?”

She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “I have nothing to be sorry about. I…care about you Adrian.” She realized then, with a sinking sense of despair, that it was far more than that. She loved him.

He softly brushed his knuckles against her cheek and a tentative smile turned his lips up at one corner. “We should go. We still have business to take care of. After that….”

Bronwen’s heart skipped a beat, but she had to know. “After that?”

“We will see.”

***

Joy filled Althaea’s very soul when at last, coming around a bend in the road, Chasm Bridge appeared before her. Built in ancient times by a long forgotten civilization, it was a true marvel to behold. Held by little more than thin metal ropes, it spanned a canyon that had no apparent bottom. Had she been on foot, she might have hesitated before setting foot upon the bridge, but the horses seemed to hold no such scruples. They plodded along fearlessly, even as her own heart clenched in dread.

Do not fear, my love. I would never let anything happen to you.

“Sorrell… I’m just a little scared of heights, that’s all. I can hardly believe we’ve made it.” For days they had fled the vampire hunters and she had lived in dread that they would catch up to her and Sorrell.

Can you see anyone ahead?

Althaea’s heart froze at his words.

“I…no, I don’t. I was just so wrapped up…. Where are they? Weren’t they supposed to be here already?”

Calm down. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sure they will be here soon. She heard his throaty laughter in the back of her mind and couldn’t help smiling.

Resolutely dismissing her fear of the bridge, she flicked the reins and the horses whinnied, picking up their pace. “I guess they might be on the other side then. We should hurry.”

The hooves of the horses rattled hollowly against the bridge bed as they gained it. Althaea breathed a sigh of relief, pulling back a little to slow the horses as they crossed the narrow span. As they drew even with the huge towers that anchored the bridge to the mountainside, Althaea caught a flash of movement. Before she could turn her head, they were upon her.

At Adrian’s signal, Bronwen leapt onto the oncoming carriage. Landing on the roof of the carriage, she scrambled over it and onto the seat beside Althaea, wrapping both arms tightly around the woman’s shoulders. Althaea screamed and fought like a wild thing, clawing, trying to throw Bronwen off.

Adrian, scrambling down from the roof on her other side, ripped the reins from her grasp, bringing the carriage to a rocking halt. Tossing the reins aside, he grasped Althaea’s flailing legs, dragging her toward the edge of the carriage.

With an effort, Adrian and Bronwen managed to drag her from the vehicle, but she only struggled harder when her feet touched the ground, kicking out at Adrian as he released her legs. Bronwen released her hold on the woman, grasped her shoulder and spun her around. She did not waste the effort in trying to slap sense into Althaea this time, however. As Althaea’s momentum brought her around, Bronwen caught her a resounding blow on the jaw that staggered her back several steps before the strength left her knees. Grasping the stunned woman, Bronwen began dragging her toward the outcropping of rocks, where she and Adrian had hidden their horses to allow them the element of surprise.

Adrian studied the two women for several moments before his gaze returned to the carriage. Drawing his sword, he advanced upon it.

Still more than a little stunned, Althaea nevertheless realized his intent. She began struggling once more, screaming. “No! Leave him be! I beg you!”

Adrian paused, turning to look at the woman who struggled against Bronwen’s hold. A crash brought his head whipping back toward the carriage. Sorrell leapt from it. His skin instantly burst into flame as the sun touched him.

Time seemed to stand still. In stunned silence, they watched as Sorrell, struggling, managed to advance several steps in their direction before falling to his knees from the pain. “I won’t let you take her,” he shouted.

Shaken from his momentary surprise by Sorrell’s defiance, Adrian lifted his sword and advanced toward the fallen vampire to finish him off.

With a blood curdling scream, Althaea broke free of Bronwen’s lax grip and rushed to Sorrell. Falling to her knees before him, she tried to shield him from the sun with her body, clutching him to her. “My love! Oh, my love! Why did you do it? I can not bear your pain! I can not live without you!” Althaea cried, weeping almost hysterically.

“I… love you. I could not let them take you from me,” Sorrell said in a gasping voice, struggling to rise once more in an attempt to protect her from the hunters.

Blindly, Althaea reached for the dagger at his belt and snatched it free, holding it above her heart. Looking into his eyes, she smiled waveringly through her tears. “I can’t and won’t live without you.”

Still too stunned by the turn of events to do more than watch the unfolding drama in shocked silence, Bronwen struggled to collect her thoughts. She could not seem to think beyond the stunned realization that Sorrell truly loved Althaea, that he had willingly sacrificed his existence to come after her. Dazed by her sudden insight, uncertain of what to do in the face of their desperation, their willingness to die together, she glanced at Adrian for direction and saw that he, too, watched the unfolding scene in uncertainty.

Almost unwillingly, she returned her attention to Sorrell and Althaea as Sorrell wrenched the knife from her grip. “No, love. I can not bear to see you die. I can not allow it.”

Althaea cried out, throwing her arms around him. “The escort is too late to save us. We will never reach our beautiful city!”

Pity washed through Bronwen at Althaea’s words. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that Sorrell and Althaea truly loved one another and had only intended to flee to a place of safety so that they could be together. She knew then that she could not go through with the plan she and Adrian had made. She couldn’t stand to be the one to crush their dreams. If their plan was to go underground where they couldn’t hurt anyone else, it didn’t seem right to stop them. The bounty wasn’t worth this. Neither Sorrell nor Althaea were responsible for the tragedy in her own life and destroying their lives would not mend her own losses.

Between her own shock, the restless stamping and whinnying of the carriage horses, and Althaea’s cries, Bronwen did not realize the significance of the sounds slowly growing louder behind her until it was far too late to react and save herself.

She whirled just as the escort the countess had sent thundered down on them from across the bridge. One rider leaned from his horse, snatching her off her feet and depositing her on the saddle in front of him before she could do more than make an aborted attempt to draw her sword.

The other riders thundered past, surrounding Adrian. Despite the fact that he reacted far more quickly than she had, he was outnumbered and at a disadvantage against the mounted men who surrounded him. As Bronwen watched in horror, the man behind him leaned down and stabbed Adrian a mortal wound in the back. A look of stunned surprise crossed Adrian’s face just as he crumpled to his knees, then fell face down on the ground.

Bronwen screamed, struggling to break free of the creature that held her, oblivious of the dagger he held to her throat.

“Fear not, sweeting. I will gladly take the place of yon fallen lover. You will scream for me before this night is through.”

Bronwen shuddered as she felt the hot, moist touch of his tongue as he ran it along the side of her throat, but she could think of little beyond Adrian, watching fearfully as he struggled to rise and failed.

Within moments, the men had helped Sorrell back into his carriage. Althaea joined Sorrell. The carriage door was slammed shut, Adrian’s and Bronwen’s horses gathered, and the carriage thundered off once more, followed by the escort.

As they rode away, Bronwen renewed her struggles to free herself, screaming Adrian’s name.

Chapter Six

As Sorrell and Althaea lay together in his coffin, she wept softly against his chest. His arm tightened around her, holding her close. With his other hand, he rubbed her back comfortingly. “Do not weep for me, dear one,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I will heal.”

With an effort, he closed his mind to the soft white throat so temptingly near. He knew he would heal far faster if he fed, but he could not bring himself to violate the woman he loved so dearly.

As if she sensed his inner struggle, Althaea pulled a little away from him, thrusting her hair aside, exposing her tempting, white throat. “Take what you need from me, beloved. I give it gladly to help you heal.”

He looked away, biting his lip.

She placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “I can not bear to see you in pain … not when I know I could bring you ease.”

He touched her face gently. “I would sooner kill myself than bite you. You don’t know what you’re offering. You don’t know what it’s like being a vampire, to always live in darkness, thirsting for the life-blood of mortals.”

She studied him a moment, loving him all the more for his care of her, but determined, now, to help him in the only way she could. “Soon enough I will be far from the sun, and by my own choice.”

His lips tightened. He looked away. “You will still be human. Selfish as my love for you is, I can not bear to take that from you, as well.” He paused, thinking over her words. “If you’re having second thoughts….”

“No!” she cried, almost angrily. “Never think that! It’s only that I can’t bear your pain. I wanted you to understand that I give myself to you gladly, in all ways!”

He pulled her close once more, holding her tightly against his chest. “I should not allow it, loving you as I do, but I can not help myself! I want you too much to leave you as I know I should.”

***

In vain, Bronwen struggled to throw herself from the horse. Relapsing at last with the knowledge that she could not gain her release, fear and sorrow almost overwhelmed her for several moments. Tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.

These monsters had slain Adrian. She still could hardly accept what she’d seen with her own eyes, but she knew in her heart that where few mortal men would have stood a chance against him, these who had taken her were as Adrian, dark immortals, capable of things no human was.

She tried to push it from her mind. She could not help Adrian, and he was no longer able to help her. She wondered, briefly, if there was any point to struggling to live anymore. She’d lost everyone who mattered to her … her whole family to vampires long ago, and now Adrian, as well.

Anger surged through her, strengthening her. She was not ready to die, yet. She would avenge her family, avenge Adrian. She would chose her own death.

A shudder went through her as she became aware, at last, of the men surrounding her, realized, at last, that they were fighting over her. Each felt as if they deserved a piece of her. The arm holding her captive tightened, then her captor shifted, running his hands over her breasts possessively. Instinctively, Bronwen, retaliated, elbowing the creature in the face.

The blow was hard enough to rock him back in his saddle, but he laughed. “I like women with fire,” he murmured in her ear, then filled it with his wet tongue.

Revolted, Bronwen jerked away.

Again, he laughed. “Have no fear, sweeting. I’m of no mind to share my treat.”

Bronwen swallowed with some difficulty. “What do you mean to do with me?” The man riding nearest them laughed. “We mean to eat you up, little dove.”

Again, the arm clamped around her tightened. “I will decide what happens to her," he growled challengingly.

Galvanized by her terror, Bronwen renewed her struggle to free herself. “I’d rather die now than be drained of my blood,” she said through clenched teeth, wrestling futilely to reach his knife.

To her surprise, the men laughed. The one holding her subdued her with little apparent effort, then leaned close to whisper in her ear once more. “Did I not say you’ve nothing to fear, sweeting? We aren’t that kind of vampire.”

Bronwen paled, feeling as if she might faint for the first time in her life.

Chapter Seven

Adrian awoke as night fell. Disoriented and still groggy, it took some moments for memory to return, but at last it did, flooding his mind with flashes of the events that had taken place moments before unconsciousness consumed him.

They had taken Bronwen.

For many moments, he could not think beyond that loss. As if the air had been sucked from his lungs, he gasped, blinded to all else and focused upon the pain the memory evoked. As it reached a point where he felt he could not bear it, however, the pain ebbed and a rage such as he had never known filled him.

He had no idea how long he had lain unconscious. Even now, it might be too late for her. She might already have been killed, or worse, forced to join the undead, but he knew he had to try to save her.

It was a struggle even to get to his knees, more than enough to force him to face the fact that the weakness of his body would not allow him to go further. He had lost far too much blood from his wound. He must heal himself before he could go after Bronwen, but there was only one way to do so.

He would have to embrace the force he despised with every fiber of his being. He would have to accept what he had fought so long and hard to reject.

He found it mattered little to him if it gave him even a possibility of reaching Bronwen in time to save her.

He loved her. He realized it with blinding clarity now… when it was probably too late.

He found he could not accept that possibility. Brushing the thought aside, he lifted his arms, concentrating, welcoming the darkness he had shunned for so long. As if it had always lain in wait for him, it settled around him, came into him, nurturing that side of him he abhorred, the blood of vampires, but with it came strength. As it filled him, the pain ebbed from his body and the weakness from blood loss. He could feel his body mending, feel the wound closing, becoming whole.

He stood at last, filled with strength and purpose. Surveying the tracks of horses and carriage, he considered for several moments. The blood lust was upon him now, almost consuming him with need. He shifted into the body of a wolf. Lifting his head, he sniffed the air. Their sent lingered in the air around him; the creatures of the night that had attacked them; Sorrell; Althaea; … and Bronwen. He could smell her fear. It brought the rage upon him once more and he took off at a full run, clearing the bridge in a matter of moments. Time ceased to have meaning as he ran through the darkness, lifting his head now and then to detect the scent of those who’d passed before him, always singling out the one scent that was his goal. His heart thudded within his chest in growing excitement as the scent became stronger with each mile, assuring him that he was gaining upon his prey.

The full moon had risen to it’s zenith when at last he came upon a rise and spotted his quarry. Lifting his head, he sniffed once more, searching, singling out that which he sought. Bronwen was still alive. With a low growl of fury, he broke into a run once more. In moments, he had overtaken the carriage. With a snarl, he launched himself into the air, slamming into Bronwen’s captor. The horse shrieked, stumbled, went down, rolling onto its side. Dimly, Adrian heard Bronwen’s scream, but he was fully in the grip of his blood lust now and could not think beyond rending the man apart.

It launched itself upon them seemingly from no where, materializing out of the darkness. Bronwen screamed as the warm stickiness of blood shot from her captor’s throat, spattering her. The world tilted dizzily and in the next moment, she struck the hard ground with a force that nearly knocked the breath from her.

At any other time, she might have been too disoriented by the fall to react, but terror still gripped her. The fall barely registered in her mind. It was too filled with the horrible sight before her--the great wolf that had ripped her captor into shreds.

Scrambling to her feet, Bronwen backed away, wondering if she dared run, wondering if she dared not. In the next moment, however, the beast, apparently satisfied at last with his kill, turned, fixing her with two glowing eyes. As she watched, the beast vanished. In his place stood Adrian.

Bronwen gasped, unable for several seconds to believe her eyes. In the next moment, however, joy filled her and she rushed into his waiting arms, hugging him tightly to reassure herself that it was indeed him and that he was whole and alive. “Oh Adrian! I thought you were dead!”

For a moment, Adrian returned her embrace, squeezing her so tightly she could barely catch her breath. In the next moment, however, he put her from him. She heard the scrape of steel as he drew his sword and gaped at his back in surprise as he moved to stand between her and the carriage. She saw then that the carriage had come to a halt and the men escorting it had dismounted, ranging themselves in a threatening line.

“Your mistake will cost you,” Adrian said coldly.

“It is you who’ve made the mistake, traitor! You have slain too many of your own kind. You should never have come here!” one of the men growled ominously.

Slowly, Adrian shook his head. “I might have allowed you to live if you had only come for Sorrell. You should not have taken Bronwen. You will die for what you have done to my lady.”

With that, he vanished, reappearing within arm’s length of the man who had challenged him. For several moments, Bronwen could do nothing but gape. She shook herself from her stupor, however, with the first ring of steel against steel. Looking around, she spied a sword among the scattered remains of what had once been one of their fellows. Ignoring the gore, she retrieved the sword, wiping the blood from its hilt on a fluttering bit of clothing so that it would not slip from her hand.

She whirled at the crunch of gravel behind her, bringing the sword up to meet the blade descending upon her. Sparks flew as the metal collided. The man’s blade, brought down with force, slid along hers, catching finally upon her knuckle guard. He was far stronger than her, however, and used the force of his weight to bring her to her knees. With a cry of rage, Bronwen slammed her fist full force into his groin.

A choked cry erupted from his throat. His hand went slack upon his sword. Bronwen struggled to her feet, swinging. He parried the blow, swung at her again, aiming for her heart. She jumped back even as she swung to deflect his blow, catching the blade and knocking it downward. She felt the burn as the tip of his sword sliced along her ribs, but his momentum over reached his balance. Before he could recover, she aimed her sword for his heart and drove it home.

A looked of stunned amazement crossed his features just moments before he fell upon her, taking her with him to the ground. The fall, the weight of the man and the hilt of her own weapon together knocked the wind from her. Stunned, Bronwen could only struggle for air for many moments. Finally, she managed to roll the man off of her.

Struggling to her feet, she saw that the fight was over. Adrian had slain the others.

Seeing that he was wounded, she rushed to him. “You’re hurt! How bad is it?”

He silenced her by pulling her tightly against him and kissing her soundly.

Bronwen felt weak and dizzy by the time he lifted his lips from hers, but she wasn’t certain whether it was her wound, relief, or purely from the pleasure of Adrian’s kiss.

Dazed, she looked up at him and saw that he was staring at something beyond her shoulder. She turned. Sorrell stood beside his coach, watching, Althaea clutched protectively to his side. A faint smile curled his lips. “So, vampire, you’ve finally learned what it is to love … a mortal.”

Adrian stiffened. He was silent so long that Bronwen turned to look up at him. She discovered then that he was looking at her, not at Sorrell.

“I have,” he said quietly.

Bronwen gasped softly, searching his face, feeling pleasure flood her as she saw the truth in his eyes.

After a moment, he lifted his head and looked at Sorrell once more. “I will let you go on one condition, vampire. You must never return to the surface.”

Joy spread across Althaea’s face at that. “Yes! We agree!”

Sorrell smiled at her indulgently. “Agreed.”

Adrian studied the two of them for several moments and was apparently satisfied. “Go then. Know this, though, if you ever return, I will not rest until I have hunted you down and slain you.”

Sorrell stiffened at the threat. For several moments he seemed to war with his temper, but at Althaea’s desperate pleas he finally nodded, helped her into the carriage and followed her.

Within moments, the carriage departed. Bronwen and Adrian watched until it vanished from site. When only the dust of it’s passing hung in the air, Bronwen helped Adrian, who was wounded far worse than she was, onto his horse before mounting her own.

In silence, they turned to retrace the trail down the mountain.

***

The moon had sunk low on the horizon when Bronwen and Adrian reached the ruins of the temple of the Goddess of Water once more. Without a word, as if they had planned all along to seek this spot to rest, they drew their horses up and dismounted.

Feeling more than a little dazed by everything that had happened, Bronwen merely watched for some time as Adrian picketed his horse and set about making camp. Finally, she joined him, gathering wood for the campfire he’d built and depositing it nearby before she shook out her blanket roll and sat down, propping her back against one of the pillars of the temple.

Adrian studied her for some moments and finally settled beside her, pulling her without protest into his arms.

“Did you mean it?” Bronwen asked, her voice husky as if with disuse.

Adrian tucked a hand beneath her chin and urged her to look up at him. “Do you doubt it?”

She tried to look away. She had been certain he did, but she wanted to hear him say the words to her. She wanted reassurance that she had not imagined it. She didn’t want to have to ask for it.

He would not allow it. Looking deeply into her eyes, he smiled faintly. “I love you, Bronwen … with all my heart … with what passes as my soul,” he added wryly, allowing his hand to drop as he looked away uncomfortably.

Bronwen would not allow it. She placed a hand on his cheek, coming up on her knees so that he was forced to look at her. “Don’t say that. Don’t think like that.”

His expression was hard, cold. “I am what I am, Bronwen. I can not change that.”

“I love you,” Bronwen said fiercely, “just as you are. It makes no difference.”

He studied her a long moment. “You don’t believe that.”

Bronwen swallowed. “Then take me. Make me as you are.”

Pain, quickly hidden, crossed his features. “No. You’ve no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I know I love you,” Bronwen said angrily. “I know I want to be with you forever.”

“Forever is a long time,” Adrian said wryly.

Bronwen sat back as if he’d slapped her. “Oh.”

Adrian grasped her arms, giving her a little shake. “You mistake me. I only meant that it is no blessing. It is a curse such as you can not imagine.”

“I know I will always love you. I want this for both us … so we’ll never be lonely again.”

Adrian studied her a long moment, his eyes glowing with love, and promise. Lifting one hand, he brushed his knuckles lightly along her cheek. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever encountered.”

Bronwen blushed and leaned closer into his touch, aching for it. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them and looking back at him once more.

Without another word, Adrian leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her closer. She parted her lips for him and his tongue slipped in, exploring her warm, sweet mouth.

Bronwen moaned softly as she felt his hand go around the back of her neck and she was drawn up into his lap. She could feel his rock hard erection through the fabric of her pants. She gasped as it pulsed against her. Slowly, she unbuttoned his black shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. Brushing her hands against his muscular chest, she licked his nipples. Feeling him stiffen, she rocked back and forth in his lap, grinding herself against his hardness. He licked and kissed a trail down her neck and she tilted her head back, allowing him free access. “Oh Adrian….”

His tongue darted out and licked the sensitive skin just under her jaw bone and she gasped. Running her fingers through his long black hair, she pulled his head closer. His fingers found her clit and rubbed it gently. Moving farther down, they parted her moist folds. She could feel the hot wetness of her desire and moved her hips rapidly, desperate to have some part of him inside her. He slowly sank first one finger, than another into her and she rode him. His other hand began tugging at her shirt and she quickly pulled it over her head. Adrian’s hot tongue darted out, licking a trail down her neck to suckle her breast. She moaned, reaching down to touch the hardness of his cock. She struggled with the buttons of his pants. Her fingers fumbling at the clasp, she cursed softly.

“Not yet.” Adrian looked into her eyes and kissed her again. “Lie down.”

Laying back, she became wetter as he pulled off his pants and then hers. His hard cock glistened slightly, standing strait and pulsing with life. She spread her legs in welcome and he knelt before her. Bronwen moaned loudly as his head dipped down and he licked her wet folds. Grabbing his hair roughly, she thrust her crotch up, hungering for more contact. He obliged, dipping his tongue deep inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb as he cupped her buttocks with his other hand. He sucked on the lips of her labia, nipping gently with his teeth, causing her to shudder in pleasure. His tongue plunged into her slowly, licking her hard.

“Please….” Her hands cupped her breasts, rubbing her hard, pink nipples. “Please Adrian….” Her voice trailed off as he kissed a trail over her mound, his tongue darting out again to lick her sensitive clit. His mouth moved slowly over her body and his hands replaced hers on her breasts. He brought his mouth over her neck, nipping the soft flesh. His hard erection nudged her clit, sending waves of electricity through her. She lifted her hips and gasped as the large head of his cock entered her. He shuddered above her, and she cried out as he withdrew it.

He began thrusting his engorged flesh against the sensitive folds of her woman’s flesh, the hard, rounded head of his cock rubbing maddeningly against her clit. She rubbed her hands up and down his muscular back, finally stroking his firm buttocks. Cupping it in her hands, she pulled him toward her, desperate to have his cock fully inside of her.

Adrian lowered his head to her breasts and ran his wet tongue over her hard nipples. He thrust himself into her slick mound, sending a shock of pleasure through to her toes. Over and over again, he plunged inside of her, his rock hard cock filling her like she’d never dreamed possible.

Gasping, she thrust her own hips hard against his, grinding her clit against him, quickly climbing to an all consuming orgasm. With a shudder, she released it, moaning loudly against his ear.

He pulled himself out of her with a grunt, resting his slick cock against her thigh. He buried his face between her breasts as his body shuddered, his cock jerking as the juices of his own orgasm ran down her leg. Lifting his head, he looked deeply into her eyes. His lips caressed her skin in a light kiss before he slowly lifted himself from her and settled beside her, pulling her snugly against him.

Happy, at peace for the first time in many years, Bronwen lay her head against his hard chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her hair. He had not said yes, but neither had he said no. He loved her. She had no doubt of that. It might take a while to bring him around to her way of thinking, but in her mind, Bronwen knew they would be together for the rest of eternity. She listened as his breathing slowed and deepened, only then giving up the fight and drifting off to sleep herself.

The End