Aaron's Kiss: Blood, Body And Mind Part 1

Blood, Body and Mind.

Aaron's Kiss Series.

By Kathi S. Barton.

Dedication.

To Megan Pettet and Amanda McWhorter the girls who are power reading my stories and encouraging me to write more.

To Erica Miller the girl who keeps me smiling and laughing and looking good for the camera.

And mostly to my good friend Phil Campbell. 'Tahanks' for all the laughs and the great one liners. That's the way we dose it!!!.

Kathi S. Barton.

Prologue.

Melody looked at Marcus. She had never been so unsure of anything in all her considerable life. As queen, it wasn't something she wanted to happen again either.

"Are you sure about this? She's just a child, not even a teenager yet. Why do you think this...this little girl has what hundreds, no, thousands don't?"

Marcus, her Man at Arms of her Royal Guard, grinned. "Never been more sure of anything before, mistress. She's good-d.a.m.n good as a matter of fact. You should see her take down a man. Nothing prettier. She even has the temerity to take me on a few times. Smart mouth too." He grinned again. "You'll like her."

"I don't need to like her. It helps, but is not...d.a.m.n it, Marcus, I don't want a little girl getting killed trying to protect the kingdom." She moved though the portal into the human world. "We need someone who can follow orders, do as she's told, not a kid who's going to be a pain in my a.s.s several hundred times a day."

They needed men. Not just men, but men of worth. Not to say that Melody had a problem with women defending the kingdom, but to the guard who served her, all were men regardless of their s.e.x. They had put the magic beacon in the human world hoping to attract some of those who would be able to serve. And so far, it had worked...to a point. There had been problems, issues with some of the others. Others who couldn't be trusted with the secret of the Castle of Molavonta, The Magical Castle of her Magick, Melody's magic.

Mel liked being the queen. She loved that she had the power of magic. h.e.l.l, she thought she was magic. All magic. She governed the usage and the amounts used in both her world and that of the human world. There were creatures and peoples in her world that the humans wouldn't nor couldn't understand. Dragons and unicorns, pixies and fairies, there were trolls and Centaur and even kings and queens of all those, as well as princes and princesses. Mel had the best of both worlds. And as a true immortal, one who could never die, she had the added responsibility of keeping them all safe.

"All right then, let's go watch her. What was her name again?" They entered the large area surrounding the building and walked to the front door.

She could feel her own magic, the magic that kept all evil away and all those that entered safe from harm. She was comforted by it and what it represented. She looked over at Marcus when he didn't answer right away.

"Sara, mistress, her name is Sara Temple. And so you know...well, I've not told you something. Something that you will probably know soon enough."

She looked at him, dreading whatever it was he was about to say. "What is it, Marcus? Please tell me she's not a murderer or something. I'm going to be really p.i.s.sed at you if she is."

"No, mistress, nothing like that. Well...why don't you go through the door and tell me? I swear to you, it will be a nice surprise." She didn't like what he was saying, or the grin. But she did go into the large building hoping that whatever it was wasn't going to p.i.s.s Sherman off anymore than he already was at her.

Her mate, Sherman, was mad because he felt he should be the one to gather the guard. Well, frankly, the guard didn't like him. Not only that, but for some reason she couldn't understand, they hated him. She didn't understand that either. He was a good man if only a little self-absorbed. She did love him, with all her heart. She and he had been mated for nearly a millennium now. She wanted to have his child, their daughter.

As the queen, it was decreed that she could only have a single child, a girl child who would rule when Mel was ready to step down. Her own mother had gone to Ireland some nine hundred years ago to fade, or to rest as a fairy ring, a magical circle of flowers that only the Irish could appreciate and love, with Mel's father. They would wake and come for a visit, but those visits had become less and less over the decades. She frowned when she wondered why. They were just to the door of the building when she felt the small bit of...something.

She glanced over at Marcus to find him staring at her. "It's her. The girl. The closer you get to her, the stronger it is. I felt it the first time I tangled with her. She has it hidden, but when she's fighting...well, she forgets to hide."

When they entered the large open area, Marcus excused himself to go and find the master. She had a chance to look around. It was a beautiful building filled with woods of every kind of variety. She walked to the wooden post next to her and put her hand onto it. It was warm and gave off a feeling of peace and wellbeing. She gave the st.u.r.dy oak a bit of her magic, just enough to make him last, enough so that decades from now he would stand and have knowledge that he stood for something other than a structure piece that some human needed to finish a project. The open walls and the wooden floors got the same bit of magic; warmth from her touch permeated the entire building before Marcus stepped back with her.

He stopped for a second then threw back his head and laughed. "And how will the owner explain why this particular building still stands when all around it have crumbled?"

"I don't care so long as the people who enter here leave with the sense of worth and happiness." She took a deep breath. "Let's go and meet your friend so we can get back to the castle."

Marcus nodded toward a set of closed doors and Mel followed him. Magic blasted her as soon as she stepped through the door. White magic, pure and barely touched slapped her hard in the face. Beautiful and warm, it made her feel happiness, more than she'd given the post in the front and even more pure. This child's was untapped magic at its purest kind.

The girl stood in the middle of the room surrounded by all the weaponry needed to train. She was tall for her age. Marcus had said she was just eleven years old. Mel wondered what her parents thought about her magic and remembered that Marcus had told her Sara was an orphan. Mel sat down as Marcus changed as he walked across the floor, his clothing of his guard's uniform fading away to that of a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt.

"You're late, a.s.shole. You said you'd be here an hour ago and now I have a cla.s.s." Her voice was hard, a direct contrast to the small little girl standing in the middle of the room so still.

"I was detained. You think to teach me a lesson, child? I'm thinking you need your bottom paddled for the use of such language." When she snorted at Marcus, he continued. "Ah, you think I jest? No, I've come to teach you a thing or two about fighting. Have you studied the book I gave you from before?"

"Yeah, big deal. That book you gave me is really c.r.a.p. There was nothing in there about what we talked about. I asked you how I get to have a sword that doesn't feel like I have to break an arm every time I want to lift it." She lifted the sword in her hand up to his face when he was close enough to almost touch her. "That's close enough."

The sword was too long for her, even Mel could tell that. Mel closed her eyes and had one fashioned for her. All the child had to do was touch the handle and the sword would be hers. Weight, balance, and even the length would be specifically fit for her. Mel reached out to Marcus mentally and asked him to give her the blade.

"Don't touch the handle. It will work only for the person who touches it. Tell her that you've had it made for her." Mel handed him the blade by the crown and Marcus took it by the pommel.

She didn't think she was going to take it, but when she looked over at Mel, she nodded once and wrapped her hand around it. Mel felt the connection immediately. Magic like hers poured though the connection and Mel knew that Sara felt it too.

"It's nice. Thanks," she said to Mel before turning back to Marcus. "Who's the broad?"

Mel nearly burst out laughing at the expression on Marcus' face. He'd been taught from birth to respect her as the queen. This chit had a few things to learn, the least of which would be respect, if she made the cut.

"You'll keep a civil tongue in your head," he told her. "I told you before I was bringing someone. Now behave or I'll take the flat of my blade to your bottom."

The girl snorted. "You can try, old man. I'm not one of your rug rats to be ordered about. If you want to show off for your girlfriend, that's fine by me."

Her new blade sang through the air and sliced a tear in Marcus' shirt. The move was so quick Mel was surprised by it. Marcus only grinned.

"First blood." He bowed as he spoke. "Today we fight for blood, not tears in our clothing. I'll give to you this shot, but we go for good. Ready?"

"No. I won't hurt you. I refuse to play like this so some woman will have s.e.x with you." Sara dropped the blade to the floor as she spoke. "I told you before I'm only here because they'll feed me and it's fun."

Marcus stood there with the girl, neither of them moving. Mel stood and walked toward them. Marcus was right; the closer one got to her, the stronger she was. She was standing next to her when she realized that the girl was reading her mind. Mel let her to a point, but kept a great deal from her. She was not bad for a person without training and Mel was equally impressed that Sara had such control.

"h.e.l.lo. You're Sara Temple. I'm Melody, his queen." Mel nodded toward Marcus. "I want to show you something."

Mel turned to Marcus and took his arm into her hand. "Marcus is my guard, and as such, he can't be hurt by you. I can cut him." Mel sliced her own blade over his arm, drawing a line of blood. "But you-"

Mel was suddenly on the floor with a small, very sharp blade to her throat. The girl...Sara was straddled, her holding her down.

"No," Mel warned Marcus when he drew back his sword to what Mel was sure to end Sara's life. "She was doing just what we need her for. Protecting one of my own."

"You were trying to prove a point? Wow, you're a real piece of work, lady." Sara stood and looked at her as Mel rose as well. "I'm so out of here. See you around, Marcus."

When Sara turned to leave, Mel stopped her with a question. "Sara, did you use your magic to throw me down, or was it your body? Either way was impressive. But I'm thinking you used your powers."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're nuts. No one has magic." Sara still hadn't moved when she continued. "People would hurt someone if they had magic, don't you think?"

"Yes," Mel agreed. "But not where I'm from." Mel took a deep breath, tried another approach, and whispered through her mind. "I can help you with it if you'll let me. I can show you how to control all of it."

"In exchange for what? You going to slice open my head and see how my brain works? Tie me to a chair and put wires on me and shock me?" Mel felt her snort and nearly burst out laughing. "No thanks, been there, done that."

Mel wondered what else the girl had been through and then realized she would probably not tell her if she asked either. "No, I don't need a blade to see what's in your head nor your heart. Come with us, Sara. I swear to you if you don't like it after one week, I'll bring you back and pay you for your time." Mel held her breath while she waited on Sara.

"You won't hurt me?" she asked as she turned.

"No, child, I won't hurt you." Mel put out her hand. "And so long as you're working for me, no one will ever hurt you again."

Sara nodded then took Mel's hand. As soon as they touched, they were all three in Molavonta.

"Mother f.u.c.k," Sara said on a sigh. Marcus burst out laughing.

Fifteen Years Later.

Aaron looked at his friend and day walker, Duncan, and wondered, not for the first time, what the h.e.l.l he was doing. If Aaron lost this, then Duncan would die. He looked around the entrance hall again while he waited for Carlos Sanchez to receive him.

"Duncan, perhaps we should talk about this again. I don't think I can stand for you to-"

"Sire," Duncan began, exasperation in his voice. "I do believe we have re-mashed this several times already. I also believe that if you fail, you will be in no position to worry if I am dead as well. I do not believe that you will fail, but should you, then you will not even know that I have met my demise. You yourself will be ash and no longer aware of me anyway."

Aaron couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. "I suppose you're right. And it's rehash, not re-mash." They both turned as one to the doorway when they heard the footsteps coming toward them.

"You will do well, sire," Duncan said as he straightened his collar on Aaron's shirt. "This man needs to be removed from his position and you are the man to do so."

Aaron nodded before they both turned toward the vampire who had showed them in. He didn't look any better this time than he had the first time.

His hair was unkempt and lank-looking. His cheeks, his entire body, looked gaunt and his skin, pasty white. He looked starved and Aaron thought that for a vampire of this one's apparent age, it had to have been weeks since he'd last fed and fed well. But for all his sickliness, his uniform was in pristine order.

Clean and pressed, even his shoes were polished to a high glossy sheen. Like the house and its contents, money had been put into appearances and not into those that lived there. Aaron shook his head at the waste of money.

Carlos Sanchez had been the master vampire of this little realm for nearly three hundred years. Aaron had moved here several weeks ago when a few meetings with some other vamps had told him what was going on. Aaron might not have thought the cruelty was true had it have been only one or two stories, but he had heard the same thing over a dozen times.

Carlos was abusing his position as master. Not only was he taking more than sixty-five percent of their total income, but he was not setting up anything in return for them. There were no health benefits for the human servants nor was there anything set up for the orphans of vampires killed in fights or by humans. Then there was the physical abuse as well.

Starving them was bad enough, but he was also killing them. Murder of one's own kind was punishable by death. Only when challenged could a vampire kill another. But he was killing for pleasure, to show others what would happen if they crossed him or tried to leave his realm.

As soon as they were led into the large receiving room, Aaron knew he had to win. The smell of death was everywhere and the three dead women and the one man, all humans on the floor before them, were sickening to say the least. Aaron gained strength in knowing that he would win for the people of the realm.

"Ah, Aaron MacMa.n.u.s. What brings you here tonight? Come to finally pledge to me, have you? It's about time. I was about to send out my troops to bring you in and make you do it." His laugh grated along Aaron's skin. "Well, my boy, let's get this over with."

"No, I have not. I've come to challenge you. Challenge you to your death for rules and rites of pa.s.sage." Aaron drew his sword and slammed it deep within the carpeted floor, never taking his eyes from Carlos.

Carlos laughed again, but this time, Aaron could hear the forcefulness in it. "Surely you jest."

"I a.s.sure you that I do not. I, Aaron Xavier MacMa.n.u.s, pledged to no master, hereby challenge you, Carlos April Sanchez, to rules and rites of pa.s.sage of this realm. I challenge you to your death."

Carlos looked at the men and women around him. Two of them stepped away and then flashed to the door and out of the room. One of the women made her way toward Aaron.

He wasn't sure what her intent was, but she was stopped by Duncan who simply stood in front of her, blocking her way.

"The last three times someone challenged me, I was the victor. You think you-"

"They were not me." Aaron said, cutting him off. He pulled his sword free and held it before him. "Are you afraid, Carlos? You should be. For I plan to make your death count for so much."

"You're going to regret this, MacMa.n.u.s. I haven't lost a fight yet and I don't plan to do so to an insolent p.r.i.c.k like you," Carlos snarled as he stood.

Aaron grinned and knew that Carlos could see no humor or friendliness in it. "So be it."

*CHAPTER ONE*.

Sara paused only slightly when she felt it. Someone or some...thing had moved into her zone. As she continued to vacuum the carpet in the little Cessna, she reached out and touched the other people she knew to be inside the hangar. Maybe, she thought, one of the others had brought in a visitor.

The mechanics, Mark and Tully, were in the outer bay; Maria, the cleaning lady, was in the waiting area, and the Carlovettis, Demetrius and April, were in their separate offices in the back of the hangar. No, they, because now she knew there were six, had come in as a group and they were not with anyone that she already knew.

Sara Temple was an amazing telepath. Her ability to reach and search out those who were near was extremely strong and only one of the many and varied talents that she had. She knew the building like the back of her hand, so she could also able to tell where they were headed or where they already were.

At first she thought it was the High Council of Magick and that they had finally found her after four long years of hiding from them. Then she realized that had it been them, they would have simply materialized behind her, slit her throat, and then dematerialized again, all without leaving a trace of themselves behind to lead anyone back to them. That was the penalty for high treason and the presumed kidnapping of the Queen Melody, Mistress of Light, Keeper of Magic-instant death. But she could not think of them right now, or of Mel, her friend. She needed to focus on the here and now.

No, their signature, or tag, was different. These...beings were not someone she had encountered before. She was able to track them moving from the front of the building toward the offices to the rear of the large hangar.

Vampire-all six of them were bloodsuckers, she thought, and by the signature that they were sending off, most were heavily armed too.

As she turned off the vacuum, she reached further, gently, so as not to alert those to her mind search, and looked to see why they might be there. She scanned each person separately to see what their intentions toward the Carlovettis were. She realized in that moment that they were not only there to kill the oldest vampire in their group, but to blame Demetrius and April Carlovetti, her new bosses and the owners of the airliner where she worked, for his murder.

Sara was always armed, so she was well prepared to defend herself and others if need be. She was in constant danger from one source or another and lived in mortal terror because of it. She moved out of the plane easily enough and was on her way to the offices when she felt the presence of the new life. April was pregnant. Sara's sole purpose changed in that second. Now the need to protect April and the innocent life that she carried became Sara's number one priority.

All of the vampire newcomers were older than both the Carlovettis, especially April, who had converted just a few weeks after she started working for them eight months ago. Sara had known all along that she worked for vamps, just as she knew that Charlie Wolff, her former boss, was a werewolf. She just chose to ignore it. It didn't matter to her what kind of being they were, as long as they did not snack on her.

As she moved along the outer walls of the building, she kept her focus on any movements inside and around the offices that would alert her to sudden danger. She knew that one of the men was moving toward April's office where April was, so Sara picked up her pace. There were two more surrounding the oldest vampire. They were all with Demetrius, who was just inside the first set of rooms with the larger group, talking. She moved into the mind of Demetrius to see what was happening. It was easy, all she needed was a touch of bare skin and she could usually talk to or read a person's mind. The conversation centered on the oldest vamp, the newest Master of the Realm, a man called Aaron MacMa.n.u.s, and what his plans were with his new realm.

Demetrius was wondering about the man's intentions in coming to the hangar without notice, and seemed to have no idea that he was close to his own death.

The first vampire that Sara had encountered was still where she had felt him, standing outside the little reception area not ten feet from the others. He would have to be dealt with first and quickly. If she did not, then he would let the others know before she had a chance to try and save April and the babe.

As Sara moved toward him, she reached inside of her left boot and pulled out a long, silver blade. It would not be considered a knife by most as it was just a one inch strip of stainless steel with a fine coating of silver, and with a small handle that fit Sara's hand perfectly. Another blade laid hidden in her other boot. Down the back of her neck, a blade wider and longer by several inches awaited her usage. Two more blades, attached to bands up each sleeve of her shirt, were ready to be ejected into her hands when she applied pressure to her wrist.

Sara was surprised at his size when she saw him; he was very big. Tall, but that wasn't all; he was really fat. She had never seen a fat vamp before and it surprised her. His thinning dark hair was pulled into a tight stringy mess at the back of his head. His dark suit fit him well enough, but she was sure that he would have a lot of difficulty if he were required to b.u.t.ton the jacket. His tie was dark and matched the equally dark shirt he wore. He had on well worn, brown cowboy boots. But it was the automatic weapon he had resting across his arms that really drew her attention. Not the weapon itself, but the fact that it had a silencer on it. Whatever they were going to do to the old vamp, they had no intentions of letting anyone else hear.