Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) (38 page)

The immunity-boosting medicine should be cool enough to administer now. He’d used this combination of essences to heal dying shifters many times over the decades. It had worked wonders.

His plan to make Susan a vampire still might work. He hadn’t expected her to mate a shifter. Why would an Apisi give a stray, unknown creature a mating bite? Bed her, yes, but not claim her. Shifters with their marking fetishes.
Mine, mine, mine.

He ran past his open bedroom door and halted so quickly he almost spilled the tea. Backpedaling, he peeked inside.

A broken metal bracelet lay next to a prone, naked Inacio.

Benic roared and entered the room. No sign of Kele anywhere. “Inacio.” He toed the incubus’s side hard enough to make him moan.

Inacio sat up, holding his head. “My face hurts.” He spoke with a lisp. His hands slid away to reveal swollen lips and a blackened eye. “Benic?”

“Where’s the shifter female I left chained to the bed?”

“Someone attacked me.” Inacio wiped the blood from his lips. “And you’re worried about your new pet?”

Benic rolled his gaze toward the ceiling in the direction of his laboratory. “Susan!” He handed Inacio the teapot and scrambled up the stairs to where he’d left her. The door was already open, the cot empty.

No.

He grabbed a glass beaker and smashed it against the wall by the doorframe. The shards flew in all directions.

Inacio ducked the broken glass as he stepped into the room. “I take it your project escaped as well?”

“Yes.” The snap of his response crackled between them. “How?” he pleaded to the empty room. “I have twenty-foot walls surrounding this castle, guarded all day and night, and a cursed incubus lounging in my tower. How did they get out unnoticed?”

“A small rescue party. It was a hunter with midnight-black hair who knocked me out.” Inacio rubbed his jaw. “A very handsome one.”

“Ahote.” He spat out the name. “They can’t be far.” Susan burned with fever. It could kill her if left untreated. The fools weren’t saving her. He grabbed the cold metal syringe of the immunity-boosting medicine and placed it in a satchel. “Where’s the tea?”

Inacio set the pot on the table. “What is this about? What does this female mean to you?”

“None of your business.” He was quite aware of the incubus’s possessiveness. The idiot was a lovesick fool.

Benic emptied the flask of water on the floor then poured the tea into it, spilling some in the process. The flask’s cork fit snugly in the neck.

He knew the forest best among the castle dwellers, and he could move faster alone. Somehow he’d have to stop the shifters and convince them he meant no harm. He groaned in silence. They would never believe him. How would he explain the virus and the mutations it created without sounding mad? Vampires had kept their suspicions that all races of Eorthe evolved from a common ancestor, for centuries. He hadn’t a name for this ancestor until he met Susan. Humans were their missing link. Should he even speak of it?

He raced from the laboratory back to his bedroom where he gathered a travel cloak and his sword. The blowdarts rested on top of his bedside chest. He fingered the set. It would make his job easier to just knock the shifters out; however he’d have to spend the next fifty years rebuilding their trust. He’d already done damage the first time he took the females. He didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.

Leaving the blowdarts, he swung the bag containing the syringe over his shoulder. Taking any knights with him would appear threatening as well. It would only make the shifters run faster and hide. He needed them to feel safe so they’d stop and confront him.

“Benic.” Inacio blocked the doorway. “I need you to know I didn’t even touch the pretty shifter, no matter how tempting.”

Incubi used emotions like shifters used claws and vampires words. Benic would never trust Inacio with anything. He should have locked his damn bedroom door. “I don’t have time for this.” He shoved past the incubus.

Emptiness threatened to consume Benic. Dark and cold, the possibility he’d made a grave mistake by infecting Susan wanted to consume the confidence he thrived on.

It would have worked. If only…

He shook the doubts from his mind. Didn’t matter anymore. He ran across the courtyard toward the gate. Questioning the guards wasn’t necessary. He knew where they were heading. All trails led to the Temple.

Chapter Forty-One

The moon had set, and soon the haze of dawn would threaten the sky. They’d wasted too much precious time on travel. For the hundredth time, Sorin glanced over his shoulder at the cart carrying Susan. He was losing her.

She wheezed with every breath and burned with so much fever Sorin had to strip off her dress. Without medicine he was helpless to save her.

The edges of the Temple peeked through the trees. Breathing hard, he stopped and allowed the others to catch up. He’d set a brutal pace with Ahote’s help.

Peder and Kele guarded their rear but were lost to his sight.

He stared at Susan, who lay curled in the bottom of the cart. Beads of sweat covered her skin. She needed to drink but he had no water. He’d been a fool to take her from the castle. As he watched her, doubts plagued his heart. Somehow he should have forced Benic to help her. He placed a soft lick on her forehead. “I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked as he spoke.

In silence, Ahote closed his eyes and rested his head on the edge of the cart. The hunter had worked hard to save Sorin’s mate, and he would never forget the effort.

The others approached through the trees, panting. They gathered close.

Kele rested a hand on Susan. “We have to break the fever. There’s a stream not far from the Temple. We should submerge her.”

“She won’t make it to my den. It will take too long to cross the mountains.” Sorin glanced at Peder. “I’d like you to run as fast as you can and retrieve the penicillin. Bring the strongest batch. The first one she made. I’ll make camp at the Temple where I can attempt to keep Susan cool and allow her to rest in more comfort.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Peder was a swift runner but he lacked endurance. Already his tongue lolled from his muzzle and his nose dripped. He leaned heavily against the cart. Sorin feared his omega would run himself into a grave to save Susan. Could he afford to lose both?

He glanced at the Payami shifters. “You can return to your home. I’m very grateful for your aid.” Placing his hand over his heart, he bowed to them.

“I’ll accompany Peder,” Kele announced. She held up a hand to Ahote as he opened his muzzle in a snarl. “I have Peder as a guard. I’ve heard the journey is difficult so there will be a better chance of success with two, and I can keep pace. I’ve had to run with the pack all my life in civil form.”

Sorin swallowed with a dry throat. “Very well. I’ll give you a temporary mark.” Anything to get her away from here. He rubbed his scent gland on the inside of her wrist. Entering his den, she’d need some kind of protection besides Peder’s presence.

Without another word they left.

Ahote came around the cart to stand next to him. They watched the forest swallow the two frail shifters. “Benic will follow our trail here. Who knows how many warriors he’ll bring.”

“I know. Those two should be far enough away before they arrive.”

He grunted. “You sent them away for safety? What about the medicine?”

“By the time they return we’ll be dead. If you hurry, you can make it to Payami lands before the bloodsuckers arrive.” He lifted the yoke of the cart and pulled it over the uneven ground. Even though the Temple was in sight, it would take time to arrive there. He could abandon the cart and carry Susan the rest of the way but he didn’t like the idea of her sleeping on the cold ground or hard stone. The cart offered a measure of comfort and shelter from the winds that stirred the forest branches.

The cart lurched and he almost lost his grasp. He glanced back and met Ahote’s glare.

Ahote pushed from behind. “What are you waiting for?”

“What of the vampires?”

“I’ve always wondered what they tasted like.”

Sorin grinned, his long canines rasping along his bottom lip. “Me too.”

They stopped at the main entrance to the Temple after the rough journey over the trail. He gathered Susan in his arms and rushed her to the stream. She weighed nothing. It was as if he carried a shadow of her. Delicate as thin ice, his heart shattered. Nothing would ever be the same after tonight. All his plans for the pack seemed empty without Susan there to be part of them.

The bubbling song of the stream rolling over stones reached his ears, and he laid her in the shallow, cool water.

She jerked, her eyes sprung open. “What—what?” she whispered and struggled to sit. She gripped his arm with weak hands and pulled. “Sorin?”

He ached watching her feeble attempts to escape. “Shh.” He held her down. “You’re sick and have a fever.” With his free hand, he scooped the water over her body then offered her some to drink. “You must have caught the chest illness while tending our pack. I’ll take care of you.”

Her teeth chattered behind pale lips. “Our pack?”

“You are the mate of my heart. Nothing can make me choose another.” He caressed her cheek. “I sent Peder and Kele for the penicillin. We’ll camp here so you can rest. Don’t worry.” He pressed his fingers over her soft mouth when she tried to speak.

Ahote brought a cloak. “I started a small fire inside the building. The wall should shelter us from the winds but I smell a storm brewing.”

Sorin did as well. The Temple roof had caved in long ago. “Can you construct a shelter?”

Searching around them, Ahote’s gaze seemed to focus on an evergreen tree. “I already started.”

Sorin wrapped Susan in the cloak and carried her to the small camp.

Ahote had carried the cart up the steps and tipped it onto its side. For bedding, he had spread the clothes on the inside of the cart’s wall. The evergreen branches were used to construct a lean-to wall against the cart, creating a tent-like structure. A fire burned next to it.

Sorin set his sleeping Susan on the bedding with the cloak as a blanket, then approached Ahote. “Why are you helping us?” Only yesterday he’d tried to tear Sorin’s throat out over Susan. “Do you love her?” Being indebted to someone who wanted to steal his mate didn’t sit well with him.

Ahote tied the branches with vines, securing them to the cart. He met his gaze. “No.” Then he turned his back to Sorin as if daring him to attack.

Sorin wasn’t a dog. He would never jump a…friend. “Why challenge me yesterday?”

With an exasperated snarl, Ahote snapped at him. “You’re worse than my mother. Your stealing Susan from under my nose lessened my standing within the pack.” He tossed a branch with excess force by the cart. “Susan was never interested in me. You’re secure in your claim. Females don’t usually refuse me—only the mated ones. Sometimes.”

“Mated?” Sorin’s fur rose along his spine.

“Save the lecture. My alpha has already given it to me.” Ahote gave a weary chuckle. “I have the scars to prove it.”

Sorin shook his head. The hunter had the nerve to call him a dog.

Ahote tied the new branches on the lean-to. “Remember to treat her well because I’ll always be sniffing at your borders.”

A possessive growl shot through Sorin’s chest. He’d tear Ahote to pieces so small, even the buzzards would have trouble finding him if he ever laid a hand on his mate.

The Payami hunter didn’t flinch. He just slapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Excellent answer.”

His urge to fight vanished. Sorin snorted and tended to his mate while Ahote continued to build their shelter.

The wind howled around the Temple, some of it sneaking between the cracks in the walls to stir his fur. A dim outline of storm clouds approached in the distance. They blanketed the fading stars and muted the coming dawn. The storm would also mask the coming of the vampires.

Ahote stood back, examining his work. “This should hold during the storm.”

“It’s time for you to go, Ahote. This isn’t your fight.”

The dark shifter squatted to tend the fire. “And who will protect your mate while you tear Benic’s head from his shoulders?”

Sorin struggled to breathe. Honor, trust, love—these were the traits he searched for and nurtured in his hunters. “You will always have a place within my den, Ahote, if you need it.”

He laughed. “I’m actually touched, Apisi dog.”

“Though I’d have to curb some of your unsavory habits.”

Ahote’s laugh grew louder.

They didn’t bother to hide. Benic would find them no matter what.

Crackles woke Susan. Evergreen branches created a roof over her head and danced in the wind. She lay on the hard paneling from what looked like a cart. Her joints flamed in agony when she tried to sit, and chills wracked her body. There wasn’t enough warmth under her blanket.

A fire burned just out of her reach, taunting her with thoughts of heat. She tried to crawl, urging her body to move, but it hurt so much.

Sorin stuck his head through the entrance to the shelter. “You’re awake.”