Wulf's Redemption (Borne Vampires Book 3) (19 page)

Ulrich
drew himself into a righteous indignity. He opened his mouth to retort, held
his tongue when the Archbishop pushed back his chair and rose to his feet with
the aid of his bodyguards.

“Ulrich,”
the priest ordered, “you and your men will stay at Wulf Manor.
My
men will ensure my orders are carried out.”

“Your
Grace, I have the right….” Ulrich was cut short by the blade held to his throat
by one of the Archbishop’s bodyguard.

“The
right to what?” the priest snarled. “The right to watch your only sons burn to
ash? Watch yourself, Ulrich, or I just might sentence you to a justified death
for being a cold, heartless bastard we both know you are!”

Without
looking at his mother as she cried loudly, rocking back and forth, as he and Aldric
were led away. Outside in the courtyard, an iron-caged cart awaited them. He
and Aldric exchanged a quick look before they were ordered into the cage. The
door slammed shut and the rattle of keys locking it sealed their fate. Resigned
to his fate, Alex took a seat on the cold, metal floor. Aldric scanned the
courtyard.

“What
seek you, Aldric?” he asked him when the cart jerked as the horses pulling it
stepped out at the clucking of the driver.

“Where
are Herrick and the others?”

“They
should have been back by now.” Alex jumped to his feet, searching for any sign
of the gypsies, seeing only the assembled mercenaries who gawked at the
procession of the Archbishop’s men escorting their employer’s sons away.

“Back
from where?”

“They
saved our asses from being executed at the lodge, keeping the Slayer at bay
while I brought you here, where I thought we would face a fair trial.”

Rolling
his eyes, Aldric replied, “Should have let him behead us, a lot less painful
than facing the sun.”

He
silently agreed. “Mayhap Herrick and his people had the good sense to run from
this place as we should have done sooner.”

Aldric snarled, his fangs long, “Father had better
not have injured them. They were only doing their duty to us.”

“Ulrich cannot hunt them because the Archbishop
would never allow it.”

“Are you so certain? Were you not convinced the
Archbishop would declare us innocent?” Aldric mockingly held out his shackled
wrists.

Casting a sarcastic remark back at Aldric, “We
aren’t innocent, remember?”

That deflated Aldric’s anger.

The cart moved at a snail’s pace through the knee
deep, snow-covered road. Half-way between Wulf Manor and Magdeburg, the driver
halted the horses. The guard with the keys reined his horse closer to the cage
and unlocked the wagon’s door. He motioned them to come out. Urging them at
sword point to walk into the dark forest, three others accompanied him as he
escorted him and Aldric to where they would face the sun. Trudging through the
heavy snow drifts, they travelled further and further into the woods. The
midnight-blue sky was beginning to lighten on the eastern horizon. To his
horror, he saw two cages the Archbishop had ordered them to die in. Without a
word spoken to them, the guard in charge urged them to walk inside the cages
and locked the doors behind them with a large key.

“Vampyres, you are met with Archbishop Arturo’s
verdict. May God have mercy upon your souls.” He signaled to his men and they
rode back to the road.

“Alex?” Aldric cocked his head to the side,
staring after the guards.

“Yes?”

“The man said souls.”

“He did, didn’t he? As did the Archbishop!”

“What the hell is going on? We should have been
executed by sword, not burned alive. That is the law of the Borne.”

“Something odd is afoot here.”

From behind their cages, they heard the approach
of horses. Turning to see who was coming, Alex recognized the magnificent
blacks used to pull the Wulf family’s carriage. They were being ridden toward
them. Saber and Aldric’s horse were led alongside them.

From under a thick fur hat, Herrick grinned at
them. “Gentlemen, ready to leave?”

“How did you know we were here?” Alex asked as the
gypsies broke the locks on the doors.

As
he swung off the tall gelding he rode, Herrick explained, “Ordered we were to
aid your escape.”

“By
who?”

“I
am sworn to secrecy, my lords.”

Exchanging
a frown with Aldric, he shrugged it off. “Whoever our benefactor is, God bless
him!” Alex grinned, grabbing his friend in a bear hug, “Herrick, I am damn glad
to see you! I worried the Slayer had killed you.”

“He
was more interested in chasing after you than wasting his time on us.”

“How
did you come by our horses?”

Releasing
him, Herrick shrugged. “My mother, a powerful witch, was told by the spirits that
Ulrich was sending his mercenaries to raid our camp and murder us. I sent our
families away, our cousins volunteered to see you safely away. My brothers and
I took Ulrich’s fine horses as compensation for his betraying us.” Herrick
patted the arched neck of the magnificent Friesian, who snorted in agreement. “Hurry,
my lords, we need to place distance between us and Wulf Manor. We’ve only an
hour before the sun rises.”

He
and Aldric held out their hands to have their shackles removed when a shadow
passed overhead. Herrick and his men reached for their guns. Alex knew who it
was.
 

“Someone
get these damn things off me!” Herrick fumbled with the key, trying several
attempts to insert it in the shackle lock.

A
mocking laugh echoed around them. “Little vampyre, you let a mortal rescue you
a second time? For shame, no wonder your father wants you dead. Pathetic you
are.”

“Hell
with this.” Alex pulled his hands apart, breaking the chains binding him. The
iron bracelets rolled around on his wrists as he yelled, “Get out of here! Aldric,
ride with them!”

“Alex,
n—” Aldric stiffened.

In a moment’s frozen time, he saw Aldric’s sorrow,
his regrets, and lastly a single tear traced down his cheek as eyes of emerald
closed as the blade flashed, cutting off his head. Slowly, his body crumpled
into the snow. Crimson stained the pristine white. Lifting his gaze, he found
the Slayer standing over Aldric’s body.

“Well, call me astonished,” the Slayer chortled, “he
wasn’t Damned after all. Not that I or your father really care. A Borne Law had
been broken. You are hereby condemned to join your brother in eternal rest.”
Lifting his bloodied blade, the Slayer advanced.

Alex’s throat burned. The white-hot slash of the
sword, the vanishing of his brother’s soul, their lifetime connection as twins had
ended. Alone forever. Fury rose hot and hatred flared from the deepest depths
of his grief. Roaring, he leapt in the air and came back down, striking the
Slayer’s face over and over with the broken ends of the chains connected to his
shackles. The sword flew out the Slayer’s hand and landed, standing hilt
upright in the nearby snow bank. The Slayer struck Alex hard, the force sent
him flying backward. On his feet in a flash, he grabbed the brute’s head,
twisting it to expose the Slayer’s throat and sank his teeth deep in the soft
flesh exposed. Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he drank it, seeking to
drain the Slayer dry. Hands feebly fought make him let go. Hearing the Slayer’s
heart barely beating, he withdrew his fangs and extended his fingers into
claws. With a deadly swipe, he ripped the bastard’s throat out. Slowly, the
Slayer sank to his knees, holding his throat as blood gushed out the wounds.
Alex reached for the Slayer’s sword.

“For my brother,” he swung the blade, chopping off
the Slayer’s head.

Herrick cautiously approached him. “Master, we
need to ride.”

“First, we put Aldric and the Slayer in the
cages.” Alex stabbed the blade in the snow and went to retrieve Aldric’s head. Beside
it lay the necklace Herrick had given them. He had to laugh. “Silver. They
never once gave us the test, did they?” Unable to look upon his beloved brother’s
last moment expressed on his bloodied face, he placed the head in one of the
cages. Together, he and Herrick put Aldric’s body beside his head, while the
others took care of the Slayer.

Grabbing the necklace, he handed it to Herrick. “Aldric
would have wanted you to have it.”

Reluctantly, Herrick took it. “How can we trust
the Slayers or the Borne, if they do not adhere to their own rules?”

“We don’t.” Swinging up on his horse, Alex reached
down and grabbed the hilt of the broadsword. “Won in battle.”

One of the gypsies asked, “Why was Aldric’s death
demanded? He was not Damned.”

“My father wanted us dead. It’s as simple as that.”
Hatred burning turned cold and calculating as the blood of the Slayer coursed
through his veins, strengthening him.

“What do we do, Master?” Herrick asked, staring at
Aldric’s corpse.

“Herrick,
you and your men must return to your families and seek a safe haven. Place
distance between you and Wulf Manor as fast as your horses can carry you.”

“What
will you do?”

“I
will return to Berlin. There, I have friends who will give me shelter.”

Herrick
studied him. Those eyes could look deep into one’s soul and see truth. The
truth was what Herrick pointed out, “Master, their blood is not yours to take.”

“Whatever
happens, it was brought on by their own selfish hands,” he urged his horse
forward. Herrick took hold the reins, halting him.

“Please,
Alex, leave the matter to the Archbishop. When he learns Aldric was beheaded,
he will issue them judged for disobeying his orders.”

“How
will he know what happened here?”

“I
will tell him. He was the one who sent us to rescue you.”

Grateful
the Archbishop had seen they were not Damned and had made to set them free, his
course, however, was set. “My friend, look after your family. Your worries for me
and Aldric are at an end.”

Herrick’s
shoulders slumped. “No, Master, they have just begun.”

Riding
back to Wulf Manor, the need to avenge Aldric drove all sane thoughts away. The
manor appeared as a beacon of light in the gathered darkness of rage consuming
him. It beckoned him to his goal. Near the closed gates, he pulled back the
reins, bringing Saber to a sliding halt. Dismounting, he tied the reins to a
tree and left his horse. Broadsword in hand, he ran and leapt in the air,
easily clearing the gate. Landing in the courtyard, soldiers rushed him, some
shooting, others were armed with swords. He barely felt the bullets hit him as
he hacked and sliced his way around them, killing them all. The front door
slammed open and out walked Ulrich, a curved Samarian sword held in his hand.

“You
just don’t learn do you, boy?” he bellowed, thrusting his chest out, proud and
cocky.

“Let’s
have it out, Father,” Alex held the sword hilt in both hands, ready for the
older man to attack. To his surprise, he was hit from behind.

Alex landed face first in the snow. Leaping up on
his feet, he whipped around to face his assailant. Taking an involuntary step
back, he stared at his mother, her long, dark hair flowing about her shoulders.

“Stay out of this, Mother,” he warned, keeping his
eye on her while searching for his sword lost in the snow.

“No, my son, I cannot. My place is beside Ulrich,”
she answered with regret shadowing in green eyes a shade lighter than his own.

In a blur of speed, he had the sword and swung as
she shrieked, rushing at him with her nails extended into claws. Matilda’s head
flew into the air and bounced, blood splattering the snow in its wake. Ulrich
howled out in his fury, running at him with sword raised. Roaring, Alex met the
wild strikes, grinning at the grief his father endured at the loss of his mate.

“Now, you know what I felt when Aldric died at the
hands of the Slayer. You are alone as I am.” Punching his father in the face
with his free hand, Alex stepped back showing him the sword. “Recognize the
blade? Do not worry about paying him. I took care of him for you.”

Ulrich stumbled, uncertainty made him lose
confidence. “How? How did you kill a Slayer?”

“You mean how I was able to best a Slayer?” Alex
circled his father with a wolfish smirk. “Pure hatred. Hate for you, Mother,
and the bastard who killed my brother. And just so you know, Aldric wasn’t Damned.”

Ulrich stumbled backward. “What? My son was not a
demon?”

“Aldric wore a necklace made of silver. Never burned
him. According to the Borne Laws, he had clear proof he still possessed his
soul. However, I will not have one, not after this!” He raised his sword and
beheaded his father.”

Fires from the bonfires cast long shadows across
the courtyard. Alex dropped to his knees and roared his rage and grief
combined. The windows of the house trembled, the house groaned in protest as he
gave into his pain. A crunch of feet treading the iced snow had him up on his
feet and ready to fight. Herrick led his horse and Saber toward him. Alex
expected disappointment from his friend, found only grim acceptance.

“My lord, you need to fetch clean clothes and wash
off the blood. Afterwards, ride to Berlin.”

“What will you do?”

“I will ride to Magdeburg and report an attack
upon the Wulf family. I shall say your parents died trying to save you and Aldric.”

“How
will you explain our missing bodies?”

“My
brothers are waiting to set fire to the bodies in the cages as evidence the
marauders were bent on revenge.”