Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series (11 page)

Those thoughts softened him and wordlessly
Lorcan stepped just behind her, making his support of her obvious
to his followers by doing so. He nodded to confirm his alignment
with her, much to the confusion and shock of his brother. There may
be dissension in his Coven from this but he did not wish to
contemplate it now. Lorcan was firm in his decision to leave his
brother to the vamp…witch. He was still trying to wrap his mind
around the fact that her powers remained. His gaze fell back to the
impending confrontation. Every instinct in him was screaming to
protect her and that warred with his understanding that she needed
to do this alone in order to solidify her right to remain.

These extra moments were costing Kaitriana
the remainder of her control and only by her strength of will did
she remain on her feet. Visible relief had filled her countenance
at Lorcan’s agreement. She squared her shoulders, her full
attention centered on the insolent vampire. She had to rein her
temper back as her inclination was the set the foolish upstart to
flames. Instead she presented him with a calm façade and cajoled
softly, “Gareth you may still stand down, you need not pursue this
path in full view of your peers.” She nodded to emphasize the truth
in her words and Lorcan felt a touch of admiration for the witch at
her attempt to save his brother disgrace.

Her change from aggressive to easy demeanor
served only to feed the spite that consumed the younger vampire.
Gareth attempted to shadow within reach of her neck but he was
brought up short and nearly fell. His startled gaze flew to his
brother in bewilderment, but Kaitriana’s words interceded with
explanation, “I bound your ability Gareth. Stand down and I vow to
restore it without delay.”

This was the final insult that Gareth would
tolerate. His Vampire abilities still allowed him to move with
incredible speed and he seized the sword of the nearest warrior.
Moving toward her, he raised the weapon high with a war cry of
festering rage.

Her glowing hand rose ever so slightly, to be
missed if the attention of all had not been focused solely on the
two. Kaitriana’s wrist flicked sharply to the right, sending the
young vampire careening back that same direction. The stone wall
that surrounded Breslein stopped his motion a full two hundred
yards back from where Gareth stood but a second before. The vampire
rolled to the ground on impact but immediately made motion to rise.
He was stopped by the booming word from Lorcan, “Enough!” Gareth
complied and stayed in place, glowering at the girl.

Kaitriana had proven her strength well enough
and Lorcan sensed she would soon be too weak to remain upright. He
wanted none who might tell this tale to have reason to hint at any
weakness in her ability. Already words of wonder were sweeping
through the crowd, “a vampire of magic,” “Chosen,” “Myrrdyn’s
Prophecy.” Kaitriana’s abilities had inspired them instantly and
hope grew as the gathered became more certain in their musings.
There was no derision remaining amongst them. In their minds they
could justify the witch that stood before them as fully Vampire,
just as they had with their Coven leader. They had endless faith in
their mighty warlord and if he had chosen to keep the girl safe
there must be something here indeed.

The wind picked up causing her skirts to
dance. Though her appearance was bedraggled, Kaitriana was
magnificent. The white of her gown was marred by the bloodstains of
those evil she had slain prior to seeking him, but Lorcan could see
the corset of the top that molded her curves and clung
provocatively to her skin had been luxurious in its material. The
silk was embroidered heavily with gold threads that were the
symbols of the Warrior Caste while the sheerness of the layered,
gossamer skirts draped fully about her feet. Lorcan shook his head,
registering…bare feet. Why would she battle in such finery and with
bare feet
?

Kaitriana was a puzzle and his eyes shot
heavenward with a fleeting prayer for patience. Fate had not
brought a cursed evil to him tonight, more a gem from Heaven. In
Lorcan’s mind, if Myrrdyn’s God had wrought this, he would be
giving his thanks for eternity. He did not know the story behind
her reappearance in the Realm nor of the five centuries she had
been gone, but she was surely a gift. Her actions had only
strengthened his resolve; he
was
keeping
her - even if Myrrdyn objected, even if the entire Realm
objected.

Sayer nudged him, a brief smile touching his
lips as he nodded in Kaitriana’s direction and murmured
“Magnificent.” Lorcan then noted that too many of the warriors
surrounding them held the same warm regard in their eyes for the
her.

The acknowledgement by his brother of his own
thoughts had pushed Lorcan from his pondering. Whether or not she
was the Chosen, her existence would mark the beginning of many
changes in the Realm. He already felt possessive towards the witch
and his instincts demanded that she be his alone. He frowned at
Sayer and the frown remained as he moved closer to Kaitriana.

At viewing Lorcan’s expression, she
misinterpreted it as displeasure with her actions. Kaitriana
allowed the sword to slip from her grasp and she quickly buried her
hands within the fine threads of her skirts. His frown lessened as
he realized the girl believed that by hiding her hands from him she
might deny the magic that all present had just beheld. She peered
up at him with a feigned expression of wide-eyed innocence.

Lorcan admired the way she stood her ground,
brave in his estimation but he hardly managed to contain his
laughter though over her affected posture of innocence. She was a
brave, but silly little witch. Kaitriana’s eyes had returned to
pools of blue in the few short strides it took him to reach her.
They began to sparkle at him when the frown left his face and he
spoke, “Club Abomination?…Really?”

At his teasing words, her spirits lifted
immediately. Instead of an answer, Kaitriana asked, “Are you going
to…throttle…me now?”

Lorcan shook his head to indicate the
negative, laughter erupting at her solemn expression. The twinkle
in her eyes even as she put the question to him told him that she
had already been fairly certain of his response. He believed that
the playful nature of this one would serve him and his Coven well.
The endless war had worn on them all and she could well be the key
to returning some life to his people. He studied her face; her eyes
were filled with the fatigue from the night’s confrontations and
the transition. He murmured with affection, “You need rest, little
Kat.”

Her lips puckered with a quick survey of her
form, “What I need is a bath.” Kaitriana was sincerely hoping that
he had modernized the ancient stone fortress before her with the
type of bathing chamber her grandfather had added for her at
Laverock. When Lorcan gravely gave his agreement she was pulled
from those thoughts.

She knew it was unreasonable but she wanted
to kick his booted shin. She’d only just admitted to herself that
she had held hopes that he might have an attraction to her. Her
thoughts were trivial given all that she had been through and
absurd given her current state of dishevelment but Kaitriana wanted
to affect him the way he did her. She’d admired him since that
night in her Uncle’s cottage. Although excruciatingly aware that
his agreement was naught but the truth, her exhaustion and hunger
were making her perverse and cranky. She adored him and he still
saw her as a little girl to protect, but now just an exceedingly
dirty one. She gave him a frown.

Lorcan had no idea what the mental
conversation the little witch had just had with herself entailed,
but it was no doubt a doozy, given her expression. He tapped the
creases that had formed on her forehead, “Cease, Witch. You’ll be
fed, have your bath, and then you will get the rest you require.”
The tone of his order conveyed that he would tolerate no argument
with these decrees. He followed with a curious question. “Why has
Myrrdyn not yet come to you?”

She was petulant and felt exhaustion dragging
at every fiber, causing her to be more difficult than necessary.
Rather than share her speculations and worry on the very same
topic, she merely shrugged and remained silent. Lorcan let out an
exaggerated sigh just as his eyes lit up on the tiny gold cross at
her throat; the symbol bespoke of her adherence to the religious
teachings shepherded by Myrrdyn. As one in Myrrdyn’s own line it
made sense the girl would follow him in all things, Realm and
religious. Lorcan tapped lightly at the gold piece before he
laughingly swept her up into the cradle of his arms and turned
towards the keep, “You’ll be teaching me to pray, Witch.”

CHAPTER 12

His good humor from earlier in the evening
returned as Lorcan shadowed them both to the landing of the stone
steps that climbed to the doors of the keep. He turned back to the
crowd that had begun to follow and nodded meaningfully to the dark
haired minx. She was now acting totally contrary to her earlier
display of bravado, trying to remove herself from their stares by
burrowing as close as possible in the fold of his arms. “Kaitriana
is my charge and mine to protect. Any actions to harm this one will
be met with my full and unrestrained wrath.”

Had his familiarity with the witch and the
light-hearted behavior of their fierce warlord not already caused
murmurs of speculation to begin within the assembled Coven, his
speech would have. Hundreds of faces gazed on in wonder at the
pair; none would dare defy his orders. Lorcan still took it a step
further than required, “Any service you give or deny Kaitriana, you
give or deny me. Be mindful of it.”

The status he had granted Kaitriana was lost
on her, being unfamiliar with intricacies of the social order
within the Coven of the Vampire. She did appreciate his affirmation
of her protection and felt a twinge of guilt over the surly
behavior she had exhibited a few moments before. Additionally, she
had noted that the lights flanking the doors outside the structure
were modern and electrical powered. That helped bolster her spirits
and her hopes that he too would have one of those bathtub things.
She granted him a hesitant smile and then proceeded to nibble at
her lip, fretting that her earlier behavior may have irritated
him.

Lorcan frowned down at her as he strode
through the iron doors. Waiting, so that his words would be for her
alone, he gave her a squeeze to accompany his reprimand, “Stop
that.”

Her frown conveyed her lack of understanding,
what had she done but smile at him after all? Bad humor returning
instantly, her random thought was that she should give him webbed
feet for the night. She glanced back up, noting that his gaze
remained fixed at the corner of her lip. Kaitriana could taste the
salty tang of blood there, evidence of the damage her new fangs had
caused. Understanding dawned; the vampire did not like the scent of
her witchy blood apparently. It wasn’t as though she had given
herself
fangs, nor purposefully used the
awkward things to inflict injury on her lip. Further, she was
certain that her blood was as good as any, probably better in fact.
More likely, her blood was
fabulous
given
that she had not started life as a rotten leech.

She was riled. Given her contrary state, the
realization that he might find her witch-mixed self distasteful
resulted in her harder bite of fang to lip. Blood welled up. In
reaction, his head back dropped back on his shoulders as a loud
groan escaped and his arms tightened reflexively around her. Lorcan
shadowed them to his rooms.

Arriving in the very center of the chamber in
the comfortable cradle of his arms, Kaitriana was momentarily
distracted. She took note of the large fire in the hearth on the
stone wall that faced the foot of his bed. The overall warmth of
the room generally was highly appealing. Her eyes touched on the
modern lighting and furniture and raised again her hopes for that
hot bath.

Lorcan gave her a few seconds, eyeing her as
she looked over his things. He then lifted her higher in his arms
and instantly had her full attention. Tempting himself beyond
reason, he lowered his face until it was a mere inch from hers, “If
you do not stop spilling your own blood Kaitriana, I will be hard
pressed to keep my fangs from your neck. This time it will be to
slake my need rather than torment you.”

Kaitriana’s eyes widened before looking away.
Her breathing increased ever so slightly but he noticed
nonetheless. Thoughts began running rampant through her overly
exhausted mind…perhaps he did find some small bit of her nice. Her
hair had a splendid tendency towards curls at the long ends and had
turned from mousy to a nice black sheen. Nice if one was inclined
to like witch black…which vampires were not inclined to like, she
reminded herself. Myrrdyn had told her she had grown pretty enough.
Pretty enough, but still none had ever spoken of her being a study
in beauty as they always had with her rival. Fabulous…her mood
soured once more…the oversized vampire was hungry, not
attracted.

She was rolling her eyes as she raised her
gaze up to him and Lorcan could not help but be amused at the
display of emotions that had so readily played out on her face. He
could not yet set her down, could not yet bear to let go. He was
enjoying her and her guileless nature too much and waited
impatiently to see what results this mental conversation would
illicit. He did not expect the frown or the tongue that darted out
from her lips. Lorcan chuckled; she had actually stuck her tongue
out at him.

That action had barely had time to register
with him before Kaitriana locked her gaze meaningfully on his.
Goaded by his laughter and in an exaggerated action of defiance,
she taunted, “Chomp chomp chomp, Vampire.” She proceeded to inflict
more damage to her lower lip with that fang. It was mean, Kaitriana
knew, but how dare him look at her as a snack and then laugh about
it. Let Lorcan try to quench his thirst with her, she would send
him flying out of his own window and into the nearby loch.