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"It's very doubtful it will affect the ritual in any way, good or bad," Aurora finally commented, taking the parchment from their Sire. "And after spending weeks on that incantation, I'm quite sure-"
"Your ritual will fail," Erik interrupted her.
"And again, how do you know that?" she sneered. "Have you suddenly become a seer and didn't tell us?"
An acid comment was on the tip of Erik's tongue, diplomacy be d.a.m.ned, but he didn't have time to voice it.
"So, these extra words won't hurt the spell?" Gabrielle asked; her voice was too quiet, Erik thought, when so much was at stake.
"They won't," Aurora acquiesced, calmer now. "But they won't help either."
"Humor me, then, would you? If it will stop Erik from being such a pain, it has to be worth it."
There were barely suppressed laughs around the room, and Erik wasn't sure whether to scowl at Gabrielle or thank her for this ambiguous support; in doubt, he threw her an annoyed glare. He couldn't help but notice the affection reflected in his Sire's eyes as she observed Aurora and the other Childer.
"Yes, Sire," Aurora responded at last with a light bow.
As they all left the room to get ready, Erik remained where he was, staring blankly at the empty room.
Trapped in his most familiar nightmare, he could not escape. He had known it would be hard to see them all like this, but he had not realized how hard. He had not imagined either that it might be too hard for him to bear.
"Come on, Childe," Gabrielle's voice said from behind him, startling him. Caught in his own mind, he hadn't realized someone else was still in the room. He turned to look at her, but already she was walking away, throwing above her shoulder: "It'll be over soon."
Repressing a bitter laugh at the idea that her words were far truer than she even knew, he went to collect his sword, then went to Catarina. He gave her a few instructions, and tried to stay close to her once thebattle started, but, just like the first time, they were separated.
And so, he fought. He had an eerie feeling that he was repeating the same gestures, the same blows, shouting the same encouragements as he had the first time. He cried out when the first of them fell from a demon's blow, but no more than he had back then. No less either, even though he had known it would happen. Then a screeching, mind-blowing noise seemed to rip the air, and his hearing disappeared with agonizing pain. The Primal Forces had just been freed. He was almost relieved not to be able to hear the moans of agony and despaired cries as vampires and demons were slaughtered all around him. Vision blurred by tears and blood, he simply kept fighting, hoping beyond hope that someone, something would change the course of history and put an end to his existence.
Morning came and found him sobbing over Catarina's scorched body. The battle had been lost again, and the price, to him, was the same as it had been the first time around.
Strong hands gripped his arms, helping him up, and Erik found himself looking into the dead eyes of Gabrielle. A flash of lightning lasting a little longer than the others showed him the tear tracks down her cheeks, and she seemed as ready to welcome the sunrise as Erik felt. Yet, she half supported, half dragged him toward the relative safety of their destroyed lair.
Erik wanted to flee, remembering all too well what would happen next. But at the same time, he couldn't make himself shrug off the arm around him, couldn't escape Gabrielle's hold when he was pulled onto the older vampire's lap. Couldn't stop shaking.
Gabrielle's blunt teeth against his neck weren't a surprise, but the soothing hand running up and down his back was. He didn't have to plead for a stronger connection; he soon felt the deliciously painful tearing of Gabrielle's fangs into his flesh, on the opposite side to where Catarina had bitten earlier. He wondered, briefly, if Gabrielle had noticed the other marks, but couldn't manage to care one way or the other.
Fingers threaded through his blood-matted hair and pushed him forward into Gabrielle's neck. The gesture confused him for an instant, he did not remember things happening quite like that; but he took the hint anyway, biting down and taking what was offered. All thoughts disappeared, replaced by the glorious feeling of thick, powerful blood sliding down his throat.
The shared offering lasted mere seconds-they had both lost too much blood already to be able to spare more. As they let go of each other, other instincts pushed forward, and by then Erik was too far gone to even remember this happening centuries earlier. Following her lead, he pulled at her clothes until she was as bare as he was. She was covered in scratches, and he kissed and licked each cut, each bruise, like she did to his own. When she pushed him down to lie on the floor, he obeyed her silent request, clutching her wrist as though a safe line. She straddled his thighs, but rather than taking him inside of her, she reached to his neck and caressed Catarina's marks. He kept his eyes on his Sire's face, his gaze slipping down to her lips as they started moving.
"You turned her, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Her hand slid up his neck and to his cheek, where she wiped off a tear at the corner of his eye.
"I know how much it hurts," she said after a moment, the words slow on her lips. "I've lost Childer tonight, too." Before he could say anything, she started talking again. "It doesn't hurt as much as losing you did, though."
He blinked, unsure whether he had understood her words correctly, unsure of what she could possibly mean by that. She didn't explain herself, at least not until after she had guided his c.o.c.k to her core.
"Want you so much," she said then, the slow rising and lowering of her hips punctuating her words.
"Been wanting you for so long. Need you. More than I can say. More than I know how to show."
And each of these words was like balm soothing a raw wound. He had longed so much to hear such tender things from her; was this what he had not heard, the first time around? How could she say such things now, when in a few hours she would abandon him?
"Sire-" he started, ready to beg if he had to, to make sure she wouldn't leave him alone again, but she didn't let him finish.
"Gabrielle," she said, shaking her head. "You're a Master, now. My equal."
"Gabrielle," he repeated, glad at that instant that he couldn't hear the undoubtedly pathetic tone in his own voice.
She leaned down to press a hard, bruising kiss to his lips, and he responded by arching into her the next time she thrust down; the old dance, older than vampires and humans alike, truly started.
But even as Erik steadily climbed toward his release and pushed Gabrielle toward hers, a feeling of dread returned to him, this awful certainty that, when they came, they would tell each other goodbye.
Because of that, he tried to fight it, tried to deny himself the completion his body was screaming for. But Gabrielle made sure he came with her, along with a hoa.r.s.e cry of despair.
Erik was nothing if not stubborn.
He knew night had fallen again, the day pa.s.sed and gone as he slept curled against Gabrielle. He knew, because it had happened before, once in reality and so many times in his dreams, that when he opened his eyes he would be alone. So, he stubbornly refused to wake up. Instead, he kept his eyes tightly shut, and tried to think of nothing, no one. Maybe if he remained here long enough- An arm snaked around his waist, pulled him closer to another naked body. Startled, he opened wide eyes, and discovered a sad face he hadn't expected to see for a few decades. The ruins were dark, the lightning of the supernatural storm having abated, but there was enough ambient light for Erik to read the words forming on Gabrielle's blood-tinted lips.
"I'm not leaving you. Not this time. Not ever again."
The End
About the Author: Kallysten is a French citizen whose most exciting accomplishment to date was to cross a few thousandmiles and an ocean to pursue (and catch!) the love of her life. She has been writing for almost fifteen years, and always enjoyed sharing her stories and listening to the readers' reactions. After playing with science fiction, short stories, poetry and fanfiction, she is now trying her hand, heart and words at paranormal romance novels.
To see her other novels, visit: original.kallysten.net Other stories in The Pacts series available at Alinar Publishing: All Things Except Blood Vampire Eyrin lives in a world in which her kind seals pacts with humans and protects them from fearsome demons in exchange for blood. She is one of her clan's strongest fighters, until the night when she is gravely wounded, in both her flesh and spirit. Disfigured, she hides from all and refuses to feed.
Returning to the lair, her human lover Ian is shocked to discover her condition but resolute to show her she is still as beautiful in his eyes. He offers her blood and comfort, causing Eyrin to do the one thing forbidden to Childer-take his life.
When Ian awakens a vampire, sired not by her but by the clan's Master instead, Eyrin reluctantly takes on the task of teaching him about his new existence. But her guilt over killing him makes this responsibility a heavy burden for Eyrin, and the new relationship they forge is a far cry from the one they used to share.
Will Ian be able to reach out for her again, or will she keep her door and heart locked to him?
+ Souls Night To be allowed to join the Fighters who protect her village from fierce demons, Mierna has to go through the woods on Souls Night in search of a weapon. What she finds, instead, is a strikingly attractive vampire who once kept her people safe along with his now lost clan. To her surprise, Elden gives her the sword she had come to steal, and when she asks, he accepts to teach her how to use it. In exchange, she offers him a few mouthfuls of her blood.
Hundreds of years after the Pact between her village and Elden was broken, it is a very different relationship that Mierna develops with the handsome but taciturn vampire; and when saying goodbye becomes too difficult, unexpected allies might help convince him that she's not the child he would like to see in her-not a child, but maybe a Childe.
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