Darelle's Trinity

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Darelle’s Trinity ISBN # 9781419909917 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Darelle’s Trinity Copyright© 2007 Sedonia Guillone Edited by Jayne Ritchie. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley Electronic book Publication: March 2007 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory: S – ENSUOUS E – ROTIC X – TREME Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated S-ensuous. S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

DARELLE’S TRINITY Sedonia Guillone

Dedication To Mitch, always.

Acknowledgements Thank you to Mitch, my editor Jaynie, cover artist Les Byerley, and my critique partner, Ruth Axtell Morren.

Trademark Acknowledgements The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Ferrari: Ferrari S.p.A Mercedes-Benz: Daimler-Benz Aktiengesellschaft Corporation.

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter One Orleans, France June 1348

Darelle unlaced the bodice of her dress and slipped it off, along with her shift and skirts. Leaving her clothing in a pile on the riverbank, she made her way to the water. The wide, slow-moving river beckoned to her, the water deliciously warmed from the afternoon sun. Her flock of sheep grazed on the hillside above the embankment, dotted over the expanse of green. She waded into the river, delighting in the slosh of clean clear water against her skin. Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Her breath caught in her throat. He was here with her, the invisible spirit that had invaded her body and mind for the past year. The sensation was always vivid, vibrant, a ghostly pair of hands caressing her bare flesh. Her nipples puckered under the invisible caress, which shivered gently over her back and breasts, over the swells of her hips and buttocks and slipped into the hidden moist crevice between her thighs. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned her head back as ghostly lips brushed down her throat and along the ridge of her collarbone. Even though she had never known a man’s touch or kiss, Darelle sensed the masculine hunger covering her body, holding it captive in sensual thrall. Her powerlessness to resist her invisible invader always frightened her, yet her body hungered for the pleasure. She dipped farther into the water up to her neck, following the unseen ravager’s path over her limbs and torso with her own hands. I’m waiting for you, petite. The words whispered in her ear. The disembodied sound entered her consciousness, setting off a wild tingling in her breasts. The feel of a strong warm hand closed over her wrist, guiding her hand down to the nest between her thighs, past the honey-colored thatch of hair over her mound, to slip her fingertips between the fleshy folds. The unseen force guided her fingertips to the tiny nubbin of flesh in the center of womanhood now thickly coated with the musk of arousal, and bade her rub in tiny languid circles. Darelle pleasured herself, her breath growing ragged as shards of heat spread from her clitoris, through her sex. The invisible caresses on her body continued. The feel of strong yet gentle male hands on her breasts heightened the pleasure building under her fingertips. Her nipples tingled under the sensation of being gently squeezed between fingertips in a pulsing motion. The tiny muscle under her fingertips clenched suddenly, sending ripples of blissfully intense pleasure shuddering through her. She squeezed her eyes shut and cried out from the blinding release. 5

Sedonia Guillone

The hands vanished suddenly and she no longer felt watched. Her chest heaved from labored breaths as she scanned the hillside and a copse of trees at the edge of the nearby forest for the possible source. She was completely alone. The ghostly ravening on her flesh released her. Its spirals of erotic heat had passed from her body, leaving her treading the water. Her body was languid, yet guilt washed through her. Her mother would have been ashamed of her daughter’s sexual imaginings of an invisible male force. But Maman had gone to the angels eight years ago and so Darelle remained alone with her shameful secret. She feared her own impurity and had thus chosen to remain unmarried and help Papa take care of her two sisters and younger brother. Darelle emerged from the water and climbed up the bank. She put her clothing on over her wet body, picked up her staff and rounded up the flock. She’d been away for several days grazing the sheep. Papa wanted to fatten them up on the juicy summer grasses so the wool would be healthy and bring in a good profit for Seigneur Lascaux, the lord of the estate on which her family were serfs. The late afternoon sun slanted over the hills and she pushed the sheep to move along. It would be nearly dark before she reached home. Darelle’s blood froze the moment her family’s cottage came into view. Her intuition, finely honed by hours and days spent shepherding in solitude, told her that something was wrong. She dropped her staff, making her way through the flock of sheep that followed her from the meadow. The moist earth of summer squished between her toes, each step bringing her closer. The cottage sat in the gathering dusk. No light from the hearth glowed through the windows. As she drew closer, her breath caught in her throat. Carcasses of their hens and roosters littered the small dirt yard in front of the cottage. Behind her, the soft baa of the sheep she had left behind floated to her ears, the only other sound besides the crashing of her blood through her veins. “Papa?” she called out, her gaze sliding back and forth over the tiny thatched-roof cottage. No smoke curled from the chimney. Her brother and sisters weren’t running about in the yard. She stopped at the wooden door, her hand curling into a fist near the latch. “Michel?” Certainly her brother would be about somewhere. Perhaps it was he who’d killed the hens for market. Only silence greeted her. “Do not go inside, petite.” Darelle gasped at the low masculine voice behind her. She’d heard no one approach. Her stomach tightened like a fist in her gut. Slowly she turned. “Seigneur Lascaux,” she breathed, recognizing the lord of the estate. He stood a few feet away, tall and regal, handsome as a god with raven dark hair, its length captured in a leather binding. He did not appear the ordinary Frenchman. Darelle had always thought him a Saracen, with his bronzed face, high cheekbones and large eyes, darker than a moonless 6

Darelle’s Trinity

night underneath elegantly arched eyebrows. A long dark cape covered broad shoulders and a wide muscled chest barely concealed under his shirt and leather jerkin. Long strong legs bulged through the rough material of his trousers and ended in boots of the softest calfskin. She remembered seeing him exactly this way when she was a girl of five. He had not aged a bit in all those years. She stared at him for several moments, unable to speak. He continued to gaze at her from those sensual eyes. “I was out hunting and saw you come out of the hills. I wanted to prevent you from going inside.” A shimmer of heat passed through her body. The way he watched her reminded her of her experience in the river. Certainly he had not been there… A lump formed in her throat. “Why do you prevent me?” He took a step toward her. “La peste has come to our part of France, petite. You will not…find your family alive.” It took another several moments for his words to penetrate the haze that enveloped her. She found it strange that he called her “little one” when she had reached her twenty-fifth year just last month. And he was telling her that her family was dead from the plague. “Non,” she whispered, “it cannot be.” Before he could respond, she swirled around and lifted the latch. “Petite—” She pushed open the door and crossed the threshold. A scream ripped from her throat. As Lascaux had warned her, her two younger sisters and brother lay dead. Her father was slumped over at the table, his skin blackened, oozing with pus-filled sores. The stench of rotting flesh caused the bile to rise in her throat. Strong hands grasped her arms, dragging her from the macabre scene into the small dirt yard strewn with animal carcasses. Vitality drained from her body, like water pouring from a vessel and the world darkened around her. She fell against Lascaux, feeling his arms enfold her just as darkness enveloped her.

***** Something cool and moist moved over her breasts. The sensation caused her to open her eyes. Her blurred vision could see only glowing lights and dark shadows. She heard the trickle of water, like a cloth being wrung into a bowl. And then the cool dampness passed across her stomach and over her pubic mound. Her body felt weightless, as if it were floating on something soft, the way she imagined a cloud would feel. “Darelle.” The voice of Seigneur Lascaux carried to her ears in a low masculine tone. She blinked several times, struggling to see him. As her vision cleared, she distinguished his form hovering over her. The cape was gone and he wore only his

7

Sedonia Guillone

white lawn shirt, open at the throat. A small forest of dark hairs peeped through the parted material. A sliver of heat passed through the cleft between her thighs at the sight of him and it took another moment to realize it was he who passed a wet cloth over her naked body. She gasped and attempted to move her arms over her front to hide her breasts from his sight. She could not, however, finding her limbs heavy as molten lead and just as hot. “Where am I?” she whispered. Her throat was parched, as if flames simmered inside it. “You are in my bed, petite,” Lascaux answered. He lifted the cloth from her skin and deposited it in a wooden bowl on the bedside table. He reached over and covered her with a thin sheet of the softest material she’d ever felt. “Ah,” he said. “You have never felt silk against that luscious skin.” His fingertips whispered over one of her bare shoulders. “You will never know anything else but silk after this night.” Above her head, she saw a canopy of red velvet. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted embroidered tapestries covering stone walls. She was in Seigneur Lascaux’s castle. He reached for a pitcher and she heard the sound of liquid being poured. He slipped a large hand behind her head and lifted it, raising a goblet to her lips. The cool water trickled into her mouth and down her throat, extinguishing the burning heat. When she’d swallowed, he lowered her head gently to the pillow and set down the goblet. His dark, simmering eyes never left hers, even as he perched himself on the edge of the soft mattress. “How do you know my name?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. A smile curved his bow-shaped lips. Dark stubble covered his cheeks and jaw, rendering his face a rugged image of potent maleness. “I make it my business to know a beautiful demoiselle who works my land.” Darelle remembered an evening after sunset the previous summer in the wine press, holding her skirts up around her knees, her bare feet squashing grapes that oozed between her toes. She’d looked up and seen the seigneur standing nearby, eyeing her, his handsome face reflected in the glow of torchlight. In that moment, she’d stared back, captured by the handsome lord whose eyes held a hunger she’d never before seen. For those few moments, nothing and no one else existed but the two of them, gazing at each other. Since that time, images of him invaded her thoughts and her dreams. For the past year, his face had become her constant companion. Later in the summer, he sent a servant to bring her to the castle to serve him directly. She had begged to be allowed to remain with her family. Lascaux had not asked for her again, sending her a return message that he would wait for her. “Your lovely feet have trodden on the grapes from my arbor, n’est-ce pas?” She nodded weakly against the pillow. “Oui.” 8

Darelle’s Trinity

Lascaux’s smile faded and he reached again for the cloth, wringing it out and laying it across her forehead. “You are burning from fever,” he said tightly. “I’m afraid you too have fallen prey to la peste. In hours pustules will erupt on your skin and in days, four at the most, you will die.” The nightmare image of her family, their ravaged corpses strewn about the cottage surged in her mind, and she began to sob. Her fevered eyes could not release actual tears. Through her haze of grief, she felt her hand being picked up and pressed to a pair of lips. Lascaux regarded her over her hand, which he gently kissed then brought to rest on his hard thigh. “I’m sorry for what you have seen and for the loss of your family.” His voice caressed her and she calmed a bit. “I would hate to see you suffer the same fate, Darelle.” Her name spoken in his voice was rich and sensuous, almost wild. “I can prevent it, ma petite.” His dark eyes glowed, reflecting the flames of the torches in their wall sconces. “I can give you eternal life. Your hair will always be the color of warm honey. Your skin will remain pristine.” He smoothed a fingertip over her fiery lips. “And your eyes will be forever the enchanting azure they are now.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her hand where it rested on his leg. “I would have done it already, but I want you to be awake when I do.” His voice fell to a silky dark tone. “I want you to experience the absolute pleasure when I drink from you.” He lifted her hand once again to his lips for a brief kiss. “You would not come to me before, but destiny has rewarded my patience. I’ll show you the world and we will pass the centuries together, you and I.” Lascaux’s words frightened her and had she not felt so weak and ill, she would have bolted from the bed and tried to flee. She broke out into fresh sobs, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Gentle fingertips smoothed her hair aside, off her neck and Lascaux bent over her. His breath was warm on her skin and her body betrayed her with slithering waves of arousal that surged in her loins as his muscular chest rubbed ever-so lightly against her nipples. The soft cloth of his lawn shirt pressed on the small buds, causing them to harden and the flesh of her areolas to pucker. She moaned softly. “Ma belle femme,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek. He dotted a soft trail of kisses across her cheek and down her neck. She felt his lips part widely. Pinpricks pierced her flesh and slid out. His lips covered the spot he’d just bitten, the tip of his tongue soothing the sting away. In the next moment, he made a suction with his mouth and suckled gently on the tender flesh. She gasped with the pleasure. The pulsing sensation caused a swirling of erotic heat in her sex that spread outward, down her legs, into her breasts and through her arms. The blissful explosion that had happened to her in the river earlier that afternoon now shrouded her entire body and she cried out from the sheer ecstasy. Of its own will, her hand rose, pulling at the leather tie in his hair. The black silken waves tumbled over her hand and she wove her fingers in it as Lascaux continued to

9

Sedonia Guillone

drink. Her body grew languid and calm and she felt the burning heat of fever drain from her limbs and torso. She felt neither hot nor cold. The only reality was Lascaux’s lips on her neck. He withdrew slightly from her skin and she felt the moist, light friction of his warm tongue caressing the spot he had bitten. Murmuring low in his throat, he laved her neck with tender caresses for what seemed like hours. When he finally lifted his face and gazed down at her, his black eyes like obsidian pools, droplets of blood lingered on his lips. He swiped his fingertips over the errant drops and licked them clean, smiling down at her like a satiated cat. The smell of her blood lingered in the air, a sweet aroma that stirred her senses, the way the invisible caresses in the river had stirred her erotic longings. “What have you done?” she whispered, her eyes widening as she stared up at him. Her stomach rumbled deep inside and the rising hunger for blood terrified her. Lascaux swiped his fingertips gently over her neck and held them to her lips. The scent of her own blood aroused her and she licked the tiny droplets hungrily. His smile widened. He took another soft swipe at the side of her neck and lapped up the last bit of blood. “You are the most delicious creature on this earth,” he said in the vibrantly sensual tone that stirred the lust inside her womb. Lascaux picked up a goblet and held it to her lips. The scent of blood incited her hunger, a haze of lust unlike any she’d ever known. She sat bolt upright, the cloth falling from her forehead, grasped the goblet from him and drank greedy gulps of thick blood that slid down her throat, quenching her hunger. Only when she’d finished did she realize what she’d done. She threw the goblet, which clanked on the stone floor. “What have you done to me?” Her breasts heaved in her panic and she no longer cared that he could see her body. He pulled the fallen cloth away. “I cured you of la peste.” He held up the cloth, his eyes simmering again. “You no longer need this, ma belle. You will never have a fever again.”

10

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter Two Darelle’s breath caught in her throat. “What do you mean?” She swiped the heel of her hand across her mouth, the scent of blood clinging to her lips. “I mean that you are now mine for all eternity.” His silky voice caressed her even though she now fought to resist his seductive power. “No!” she cried, flailing her arms in her attempt to rise from the bed. The sheet slipped down, further exposing her naked body, but she didn’t care. Papa had told her tales of vampires during her childhood. He’d spoken of soulless beings wandering through eternity, feeding on the blood of the innocent. The mere thought that she could now be one of them horrified her. Lascaux took hold of her wrists. His grip, though iron strong, was surprisingly gentle. “Listen to me, Darelle.” “No! Let me go!” She writhed and twisted vainly in his grasp. Her captor bent over her, pushing her back against the pillows, her arms pinned to either side of her head. “Papa!” she cried, her tears flowing freely. “Papa!” She knew her father could never come to her, and even if he were alive, he could not possibly have the strength to fight the seigneur, but calling her father’s name brought a small measure of comfort. The worst part of all was the erotic heat spiraling through her sex as Lascaux pinned her down. Even as she cried out for help, the intimate pulsing intensified between her thighs, engorging and moistening her inner sex, which craved fulfillment. “Do not play such a game with me, Darelle,” Lascaux said between gritted teeth. “Give in to your desire.” She stared at him. His dark eyes glowed an iridescent yellow around the black slits of his pupils. His masculine lips curled back, revealing the fangs that had pierced her skin. His black hair, gleaming like ebony silk in the torchlight, rioted around his cheeks and shoulders. The sight terrified and thrilled her all at once. “I’m not playing a game,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling violently. Her breasts heaved from her struggle and she watched his gaze flicker lustfully over the soft mounds of pale flesh tipped with hard rosy nipples. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly on her wrists and he drew his dark brows together. Darelle wept softly, her sorrow intermingling with the pulsing waves of desire that gripped her body. “I want to go home.” “This is your home now, petite.” “I want Papa.”

11

Sedonia Guillone

She looked up at Lascaux through her blur of tears. His fangs had receded and his eyes had darkened once again to obsidian pools. He eased his grip on her wrists and released her right hand, which remained pressed into the mattress. He placed his hand, palm down on her chest, just over her left breast. Darelle gasped at the contact but her gaze remained locked on Lascaux’s eyes. His brows drew together once again and his lips formed a sudden scowl. The gleam of triumph drained from his eyes. “Your heart still beats,” he hissed. “Not again, dammit!” He lifted his hand and renewed his hold on her wrist, his dark gaze boring into hers. He stared into her eyes several moments, his already bronzed face darkening. “Merde,” he cursed through clenched teeth. “You are one of them.” Icy fear gripped her body. “One of whom?” she whispered, staring at him. Lascaux’s eyes glowed eerily. “Les Coeurs Éternels. The ones whose hearts never stop beating even though they are undead.” He stood swiftly from the bed and paced the room. Darelle held the sheet over her nakedness, watching him move swiftly about the room. For a soulless creature, his agitation seemed very great. All she wanted was to escape. Lascaux frightened her as much as he roused her desires. She believed him a madman who had induced her to dream of him somehow. Maman used to warn her against the evil eye, but Darelle had never believed her. Now in the face of Lascaux’s ravings, she did. The man had even somehow created within her a hunger for blood. As long as her heart still beat, she was a human being, and she would find a way out of her captor’s clutches. When Lascaux sat back down on the edge of the bed, Darelle shrank back against the pillows. Lascaux reached out and slid his large fingers into her mass of curls. “You needn’t fear me, petite,” he crooned. “I would never hurt you.” He let her hair slip between his fingers to the ends and then raked them through her hair again. “Finer than silk,” he said softly. “I want you only to have pleasure for eternity. A soul will only cause you more grief. I can relieve you of such suffering the same way I relieved you of la peste.” The pad of his thumb whispered back and forth across her cheek, sending tendrils of heat into her skin. Already she could feel moisture pooling in her sex. “Remember what happened yesterday in the river,” he went on, his voice low and silky, “the pleasure I’ve brought to your body this last year, that was only the beginning.” Her eyes widened and shame heated her entire face. So, he had been watching her! But how had he touched her without her seeing him? “That was a dream,” she whimpered. “I have never done anything…” His thumb slid across her bottom lip and she repressed the wicked urge to take it between her teeth and nibble on it, to caress it with the tip of her tongue. “No. It was my thrall.” He sighed. “It’s wrong to use such power on another who’s so innocent…so unsuspecting. But…I couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

12

Darelle’s Trinity

Emotions churned in his dark eyes, surprising Darelle with their sincerity. For a moment, Lascaux appeared almost…vulnerable. “This is only right,” he went on. “La justice.” His gaze darkened and she could see a strange shadow pass through his eyes, as if he were remembering. “Les Coeurs Éternels have stolen so much love from me. I’m the one who created them.” He tweaked her chin lightly between thumb and forefinger before stroking back her hair. “It’s only right they give something back.” Against her will, Darelle’s eyes fluttered closed as a frisson of erotic pleasure spiraled through her body, gathering intensity in the moist cleft between her thighs. “I must go for now,” he said suddenly, as if someone had called him. “Rest and then later, I will begin to show you the pleasures our life will offer.” He rose and strode away. When she opened her eyes, Lascaux was already out the door, but the sensual desire aroused in her body pulsed madly and she felt exactly as she had in the river, melting open under the invisible hands. Moaning softly, she threw her head back, helpless in the thrall of the ghostly caress on her breasts and the way it squeezed her nipples in a tiny pulsing motion that sent shivers of sensation down her belly into her sex. Surrender to me, petite…Lascaux’s voice whirled like a silken wind through her ears. The caress shimmered over her body, concentrated now on her inner thighs. Ghostly fingertips stroked slow, hot circles on the tender flesh and Darelle parted her legs, her fire of longing making her bare her most intimate nest. I will find your deepest desire…the sleek voice haunted her mind, driving her heartbeat to a frenzy. The invisible fingertips spread open the lips of her sex and warm moist heat caressed the slick pinkness within. Darelle moaned, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow as the unseen force laved her clitoris in tiny strokes, stoking the fire deep within her womb. She cried out as the tension built and overflowed, radiating through her clitoris and outward. The invisible tongue stroked her open cleft until she fell limp on the bed, then disappeared. Drowsiness overcame her. She was exhausted from the drain of grief, fear, and from Lascaux’s wrenching power over her mind and body. Her eyes closed and she felt herself falling away into a twilight state.

***** Darelle awoke to find herself sprawled across Lascaux’s large bed. The heavy posters loomed like tree trunks. The canopy cast shadows over the silken sheets. Without moving, she lay quietly, listening for the sound of his breathing or the weight of his presence near her. She sighed in relief when silence met her ears. Quickly she sat up, unnerved at the grumbling of deep hunger in her belly. Her eye fell on a goblet that sat on the bedside table. Remembering the water Lascaux had given

13

Sedonia Guillone

her earlier, she picked it up and took a large swallow, coughing at the thick, sweet liquid that poured down her throat. Some of the liquid dribbled down her chin. She wiped it with her fingertips and looked. Scarlet. She gasped. Blood. Again. In one swift movement, she thumped the cup back down on the dark wood table and sat, hugging her arms to her still naked body. The little bit of blood she’d swallowed had satisfied a bit of the burning hunger and she found herself staring needfully at the goblet. A tear rolled from her eye and ran down her cheek. The plague had wiped out much of the food stores and this bit of blood would probably be the only nourishment she’d have until she could find someplace safe. Reaching out, she retrieved the cup and gulped down the rest of the blood, horrified at how delicious it was to her. She wiped a hand across her mouth and sat, panting, fighting down the horror of her new appetite. Suddenly desperate for a breath of fresh air, she rose from the huge bed, wrapping the sheet around her for warmth. She opened the heavy wooden shutters to one of the windows and peered through the tall narrow rectangular opening. The stars had begun to fade and the stillness of predawn had settled over the land. The crenellated battlements of the castle were barely visible in the pale moonlight. Gasping in the cool night air, scented with earthy grass and pines, she let the freshness of it fill her lungs. Slowly, her horror lessened. The door to the bedroom creaked open behind her. Darelle closed the shutters guiltily and turned, tightening the sheet around her protectively, her heart crashing. She didn’t think she could suffer Lascaux’s cloistering presence at this moment. To her relief, a woman entered followed by two men carrying a brass tub. Curls of steam rose from the vessel, which they set down in front of the large roaring fireplace. Darelle shrank against the stone wall, watching them. The men, dressed in rough wool, linen clothes and heavy boots, filed out of the room without a mere glance. The woman remained. She appeared to be a bit older than Darelle and wore a gown of light blue damask with a matching wimple and veil. Her dark hair framed an unnaturally pale face and cherry red lips. Darelle thought she would have been pretty had her pallor not been so chalky. The woman, apparently a servant, approached the bed, a linen towel draped neatly over one bell-shaped sleeve. Her somber appearance deepened Darelle’s dread of remaining in this castle and she prayed silently that she was not truly a prisoner. “Seigneur Lascaux has ordered a bath for you,” the servant told her. She set the towel on a nearby chair and looked expectantly at Darelle. Darelle looked at her. She wanted so terribly to dress and make her escape, but she certainly could not do so at this moment. To refuse Lascaux’s hospitality would immediately put her under suspicion. “That was kind of him,” she murmured. Wrapping the sheet around her, she stood up and took a few steps, feeling her strength seep into her body once again.

14

Darelle’s Trinity

As she approached the tub, the servant held out her hands. Wordlessly, Darelle allowed the girl to undrape the sheet from her body so she could step into the tub. She lowered herself into the steaming rose-scented water. Never before had she experienced such luxury and felt her body relax a bit as the hot water soaked her limbs. She picked up a tiny cloth folded over the edge of the tub, soaked it in the water and began to wash herself. The servant, who had been laying clean clothing out on the bed, now approached her and gathered up the curly abundance of Darelle’s hair, which she began to comb. The woman’s silence unnerved her and she shored up her courage to speak. “What is your name?” she asked finally. “Viola.” The woman’s hands were thankfully gentle with the comb. “How long have you been in service to the seigneur?” “A very long time.” Viola’s curt, monotone answers were slightly more unnerving than silence, so she asked only the most important question whose answer would help her know when to make her escape. “Where is the seigneur at present?” “He has retired for the day. He requests that you join him for supper after sunset.” A prickly heat passed over Darelle’s skin. The sun was beginning to rise and he had retired? He was either truly mad or he’d told her the truth. She was a… She left the question unasked and concerned herself only with escape. “Merci, Viola,” she said in as calm a voice as she could muster. “I will join him.” “Oui, mademoiselle,” Viola answered, releasing Darelle’s hair. She retrieved the towel and held it open. Darelle climbed from the tub and let Viola wrap the towel around her. From the window, she caught a glimpse of the growing light. Viola went to a large armoire and silently removed clothing from it, bringing the items over to her. Darelle recognized a linen chainse, in creamy white silk like the bedsheets, the undergarment worn by noblewomen, and a bliaut in damask with bell sleeves, like the one Viola wore. Reaching out, she brushed a fingertip across the plush material, the color, a rich shade of green like the hills where she brought her sheep to graze. Velvet. lifted the dress and held it out. The neckline and sleeves were hemmed with pearled embroidery, clearly a garment for a noblewoman. Darelle wanted to demand her old clothing back, but paused. She could not refuse an item of clothing. God alone knew where her old dress and bodice were now and she certainly could not make her escape while naked. Viola slipped the chainse over Darelle and tied the bow at the neck. She reached down to the bed, picked up the bliaut, held it for Darelle to step into and then tied the laces at the back for her. The delicate materials of her new clothing whispered against her skin. Lascaux’s spirit seemed woven into the very material and she could almost

15

Sedonia Guillone

feel his eyes on her, watching her dress. She wondered at his method of seduction, at why he hadn’t just taken her body. He could easily do so when she was so enthralled, yet he chose to tempt her and try to make her want him. The thought made her shiver. At last, Viola lifted the gold-braided maunches and tied them around her waist. A pair of embroidered slippers with slightly pointed toes sat side by side on the floor by the chair. Darelle pushed her feet into them. Of course, they fit perfectly. Once Darelle was fully dressed, Viola admitted the men who’d brought the tub. They lifted and carried it out. When they were gone, Viola curtsied and left the room without another word. Relieved to be alone finally, Darelle went back to the narrow window and pulled open the heavy shutters. The stars had nearly faded completely and the hint of gray touched the blackness. Daylight was mounting and she wanted to be away before the sun rose completely, making her clearly visible. A heavy carved wooden chair stood against the wall near the window. Darelle grabbed one thick arm and dragged it underneath the window, surprised at how easily she moved the burdensome object. Lifting the skirts of her gown, she stepped onto the chair and leaned through the opening. The narrow window had obviously been carved out to impede an armored man from coming through, but she judged that her own slender frame might be able to slip through. Peering through the opening, she was dismayed to see there was no balcony to step out on, just a straight drop into the bailey below. The nearest foothold was the walkway along the battlements and only someone who could fly would be able to leap the chasm of space to the keep’s wall. Sighing deeply, she turned from the window and sank down into the chair. She hadn’t even begun to escape and already felt defeated. She didn’t dare venture from the bedchamber, terrified as she was that Lascaux might be lurking in wait for her. The mere fact that he didn’t retire to his own bedchamber immediately aroused her suspicions. “Fly, my lady.” Darelle gasped. The voice carried into the bedchamber, through the open window. She scrambled back up to a standing position on the chair and pushed her upper body through the opening, searching for the owner of the voice. “Who are you?” she called softly into the waning night. “One of your guardians, my lady,” the male voice answered. The sound was soothing and calmed the torrid pounding in her heart. Don’t listen to him, ma belle. Darelle clutched at her heart with one hand, recognizing Lascaux’s silky whisper. She swiveled around, searching for him in the shadowy firelight of the bedchamber. It was empty.

16

Darelle’s Trinity

“Quickly, my lady. You’ll fit through the window. I’m here, on the battlement.” Darelle pushed her upper body through the window, painfully aware now of the vast open space between the window and the battlement. This time, she saw a dark, cloaked figure standing on the walkway. A man, tall and broad-shouldered, stood facing her. She couldn’t distinguish his features in the half-light, but his very presence relieved her and infused her with a sense of strength. He held out one hand to her. Don’t leave me, Darelle! Lascaux’s voice shuddered through her. Holy God, he had control of her mind! He was inside her very being. Softly, she cried out as the familiar erotic tingle sprung up between her thighs, pulsing waves of desire through her womb into her breasts. She crouched in the narrow opening of the window. Whoever the man was on the battlement, she sensed he brought her safety from Lascaux’s clutches. “How can I fly?” she whispered desperately. “It’s within your power to glide short distances, Lady Darelle. Come quickly.” A spasm of sexual heat ripped through her slit, weakening her. If she waited another moment, she would be in the thrall, unable to move. Dragging in a deep breath she clenched her jaw and sprang from the window, crying softly as an invisible current lifted her. The power of flight infused her body and she directed herself toward the man on the battlement, landing softly just in front of him. Uncertain of her footing, she teetered slightly and a pair of strong hands closed around her arms, steadying her. “Are you all right, my lady?” Darelle craned her neck and looked into his face. In the gray light, she could make out high cheekbones and a firm jaw. The waning moonlight gleamed in his eyes, which studied her with unmistakable tenderness. “Who are you?” she whispered. Her heart still pounded from the shock of flight, yet the man’s touch soothed her and already Lascaux’s sexual thrall had lessened. “Gareth, my lady. Kane and I have come to fetch you. He’s waiting below.” “She’s going nowhere.” Lascaux’s voice cut into her from behind. “Darelle is mine.” She turned and saw her captor standing close behind her, his eyes glowing golden yellow, his fangs bared. Gareth pulled her against him, turning so that his large strong frame came in between her and Lascaux. “She doesn’t belong to you, or to anyone, Minhotep,” Gareth said. Darelle could not see Lascaux’s expression but she heard a growl issue from deep in his throat. His thrall gripped her body, sending waves of heated lust through her breasts. “Put your hands on me, Darelle,” Gareth ordered. Obediently, she reached out, resting her palms flat on Gareth’s back. Warm strength infused her through the coarse material of his cloak, holding the thrall at bay.

17

Sedonia Guillone

“How dare you and your Coeurs Éternels. Darelle! Don’t listen to this creature. He would steal all your pleasure from you. I brought you across. I saved you from la peste!” Lascaux’s words tore at her heart, as if he were deep inside her. She felt guilty for wanting to escape him, for not succumbing to the lush erotic pleasure he’d given her. But he frightened her, the way he wanted to force her to love him. She pressed her hands more deeply into Gareth’s cloak, inching her body closer until her breasts pushed lightly into his back muscles. The moment her body made full contact with his, Lascaux’s spell was severed, clearing her mind. Gareth’s arm moved, emerging from underneath his cloak. Rose-colored streaks now stained the gray sky, reflecting the glint of a gold cross in Gareth’s hand. Lascaux cringed, but with a guttural cry, reached out and swiped it out of his hand. The crucifix soared downward, lost in the depths of the castle bailey. Darelle gasped. “Squeeze your arms around me, Darelle,” Gareth ordered her, not taking his eyes off Lascaux. “If you leave, Darelle, you will be lost forever,” Lascaux said. “You need me.” Darelle clutched at Gareth’s cloak. Each time Lascaux spoke, her mind filled with confusion. “Hold tight!” Gareth shouted. Darelle squeezed her arms tightly around his torso of rock-hard muscle. He was so broad, her hands barely met around his waist. She rested her cheek against his back, her eyes shut tight. He jumped, and once again Darelle experienced that sensation of weightlessness. She felt them dropping downward and screamed out when a familiar pair of hands, Lascaux’s, clutched her suddenly from behind. “Hold on, Darelle!” Gareth landed on his feet on the soft grass, standing like a pillar of rock against Lascaux’s tugging grip on Darelle’s shoulders. In her struggle, she caught a glimpse of another cloaked figure, identical to that of Gareth. This man wedged one powerful arm between her and Lascaux who released her as if that man’s arm were burning him. As Lascaux backed away, the man stood in his place and he and Gareth enclosed Darelle between them. To her surprise, she grew completely calm, the tension draining from her body in spite of Lascaux, a mere few feet away, prepared to snatch her back to the castle. She closed her eyes, her cheek resting against Gareth’s chest. The other man stood behind her, a strong, protective force against Lascaux’s thrall. Neither Gareth nor his companion budged. Like statues, they stood, holding her between them. Behind them, Darelle heard Lascaux hiss, his frustration and anger filling the air around them. The sky lightened from gray to pink. Fuchsia streaks of light splashed out above the horizon beyond the rolling hills.

18

Darelle’s Trinity

Lascaux hissed again, retreating as if from fire. She witnessed the daylight repel him as the cross had. He began to retreat, his gaze boring into hers. She drew a long deep breath, her body sagging against Gareth. “I’ll find you, petite,” Lascaux said, his voice like molten iron. “I’m in your very soul. You’ll never be able to let me go.” Darelle squeezed her eyes shut tight against his words and the guilt he churned up in her. He turned and ran, disappearing through an opening in the château wall. Another minute passed before Gareth stirred. He and his companion moved slightly apart, keeping her safely between them. Gareth put his large hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right, my lady?” Darelle felt her cheeks redden under his gaze. In her entire life, she could never have imagined being addressed with such respect, especially by a man so handsome. In the waxing daylight, she could see his face much more clearly, the chiseled angles, the rich brown of his eyes. Though his cheeks and jaw were clean-shaven, the masculine roughness of his whiskers showed through, framing his graceful, strong bow-shaped lips. His skin was a smooth olive tone, his dark hair shorn close to the scalp. Wordlessly, she nodded. Gareth studied her face with a stern expression darkening his eyes. “Good. You are a brave young woman. Minhotep is very powerful.” He looked at his companion. “Meet your other guardian, Kane.” He turned her gently to face Kane. Darelle found herself gazing at Gareth’s mirror image. She blinked several times. “Vous êtes jumeaux?” she asked softly. Kane chuckled. “Yes, my lady, we’re twins.” He stepped back and bowed to her, smiling gently. A large dimple formed in his right cheek. “I’m Kane Princelli and this is my brother, Gareth. At your service.” Gareth cleared his throat. “We’re your guardians.”

19

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Three She blinked again. “Guardians?” Gareth nodded, pulling off his cloak and draping it around her shoulders. “Aye. We’ll explain everything later, my lady. Now let’s put a great distance between ourselves and this château. Minhotep will only wait as long as he has to before he comes looking for you. That gives us until sundown. Now stay between us, Lady Darelle.” He turned and began to lead her away from the castle, in the direction of the hills. She fell in step next to him, aware of Kane’s powerful presence at her other side. Both men walked with a strong, assured gait that reminded her of large, powerful cats. “Do you think he will try to attack us again?” she asked Gareth, who seemed to be the authority of the two men. “Not in daylight, my lady. Minhotep has few weaknesses, but daylight is one of them. We should, however, get back to Paris as soon as possible. Our strength is in unity. As I said, by nightfall, Minhotep will resume his quest for you.” Gareth’s words sent an icy shiver down her back. She pulled his cloak around her more tightly. “What are his other weaknesses?” Darelle hungered suddenly to know all she could about the vampire who had invaded her mind and body, as if the knowledge could strengthen her power to resist him. “We are, my lady.” Kane spoke this time. Darelle turned and gazed at his profile. He and his brother had beautifully sculpted features, firm and chiseled, with a handsome cleft in the chin. “We?” “The Coeurs Éternels,” he said. “Our existence has acted as a conscience on him of sorts. Since we have come into being, Minhotep’s thirst for power and blood has waned considerably from what it once was.” “Minhotep is the oldest vampire in existence,” Gareth picked up the explanation. “He came into being as far back as the pyramids in Egypt and was a pharaoh of great power. Legend has it that after the time of the Buddha, a great enlightened sage, Minhotep once fed on a Tibetan monk who sat in a cave, deep in meditation. He brought the monk across and found that the man’s heart still beat although he was no longer mortal. That monk was the forefather of the Coeurs Éternels. Since that time, out of every vampire who is made, a certain number of them are like us.” “Once Minhotep created our kind,” Kane said, “he lost the power to kill other vampires. For some reason, our existence curbs his strength. It is that control that allowed us to pull you away from him relatively easily.” He frowned. “Not that he

20

Darelle’s Trinity

won’t try to get you back. His only ability to conquer you will be through control of your heart. If he finds your deepest desires, he can master you through them.” An icy tinge teased at her insides, remembering the erotic control he already had over her. Could it possibly get worse? “Why me? Surely there are others he could possess, maybe even someone who would be happy that way.” Gareth glanced down at her, a grim look darkening his handsome face. “Because, my lady, you are devastatingly beautiful.” Darelle’s cheeks burned and she looked straight ahead. She had always avoided the company of men, staying alone on the hills with her sheep. “Thank you, my lord.” “You’re welcome, my lady.” “The fact that you are a Coeur Éternel is a foil for Minhotep,” Kane said softly. “The rumors are that he once had a beautiful wife and wanted to make her immortal before she started to grow old. When she learned what he was, she was horrified and left him. She hid from him and then years later, when she fell ill, she did allow a Coeur Éternel to take her life as an act of mercy. He hates us for that. Well, that and the fact that every time he sires one such as us, we run from him.” Darelle looked at him. “By the Virgin and all that is holy, I have never imagined such things to happen in the world.” Gareth looked at her gently. “The world is vast and there is much in it that you cannot imagine, my lady.” Darelle walked silently for several moments with Gareth’s words swimming through her mind. “I’ve lived on Lascaux’s estate my entire life. I had barely ever seen him until the last year or so. Never have I known the truth of him. He frightens me.” Gareth smiled gently. “It is well you fear him,” he said. “But we are here with you now.” “We are not as old as Lascaux, but Kane and I are very old ourselves. Our age alone has given us time to build much strength against him.” Darelle blinked. “How old are you?” Gareth ushered her back to walking. “Kane and I were Roman soldiers nearly fifteen hundred years ago. I was mortally wounded in battle against the Celts on one of their incursions into Italy. A woman from the village nearby found me on the battlefield. She was of the undead and brought me across.” “Gareth made me after that so we would always be together,” Kane added. His brother nodded solemnly. “Aye, we’re inseparable. Perhaps it is that bond that kept us from losing our souls.” “That is what the Coeurs Éternels are,” Gareth continued. “For some mysterious reason, there are those of us who are fed upon, yet retain our souls because of some dominant characteristic that remains. Like the monk in the cave whose whole heart and mind were set on compassion and enlightenment.”

21

Sedonia Guillone

Sudden tears heated Darelle’s eyes. She wondered what possible quality she possessed that had made her a Coeur Éternel, especially remembering the countless times she had pleasured herself under Lascaux’s thrall. “That is beautiful,” she murmured. “What happened to you then?” Kane chuckled. “Since then, we have lived many lifetimes, mostly as warriors. We left the Romans and fought with the Celts and then the Vikings. After many, many years and many battles, we finally grew tired of fighting and wished only to ease the suffering of those mortals who fell around us in pain.” Gareth nodded. “We were finally drawn to Paris without knowing why. It is when we reached that city we found it is the center of the Coeurs Éternels. As time passes, we have been gathering our strength in numbers. Now the time for us to have a priestess has come.” Darelle caught her breath at the meaningful tone in Gareth’s voice. “Priestess?” He nodded. “Aye, my lady. Only a priestess needs two guardians to stay at her side for eternity, guarding against Minhotep’s powers and against any other force that would wish us harm.” She stopped walking and stared at both of them, her gaze moving from one to the other. “You don’t mean…me?” “Aye, Lady Darelle,” Kane answered. “Finally, the seer has told us that the one who will lead us has come into existence. That was last night, when Lascaux brought you across.” The tears that had burned in Darelle’s eyes a few moments earlier now began to flow. Perhaps she was a vampire after all. In a mere day, her simple world of a shepherdess had been shattered. Her beloved family had perished, she had been made immortal and escaped a powerful vampire. And now, according to Gareth’s story, she was being thrust into a position of grave responsibility with two men who were to protect her for eternity. “I’m sorry for my tears,” she whispered, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. A pair of strong arms closed around her. Protective maleness surrounded her and she began to sob, her body sagging against her comforter. Two large hands caressed her back through the coarse material of the cloak. Another hand stroked her hair. “It’s all right, Darelle.” Gareth’s voice carried through her crying. Darelle allowed herself to melt against the hard male strength. She succumbed to their caresses. Finally, she was soothed enough to speak. She looked up at Gareth who brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “I’ve never been off this land, my lords,” she said to both men. “Mon pere, ma famille, they lie dead in our home. I never was able to say good-bye.” She stood up straight and heaved a deep sigh. “Please, I beg you, they need a proper burial. My soul will go on, but what will happen to theirs?” Gareth and Kane looked at each other, their expressions grave. “We must get back as soon as possible,” Gareth said.

22

Darelle’s Trinity

Kane looked at him. “How can we refuse her this, Gareth? You and I were able to remain together. Darelle had no such chance with her loved ones.” “She has us now. It is crucial we bring her to Colette.” Gareth smoothed one large hand over his short dark hair. Darelle watched them debate. She didn’t hear a word they said, listening only for their agreement to bury her family. “It’s the difference of perhaps a couple of hours, Gareth,” Kane said after a moment’s silence. Gareth sighed. “All right. But we mustn’t tarry.” He turned to Darelle. “Very well, my lady. Show us the way.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning in the direction of her father’s cottage. Her guardians took their places at either side of her. Once again, she remarked at how much stronger and safer she felt walking between them. When Gareth and Kane held her between them, Lascaux’s thrall had slipped off her like water beading on skin. The morning sun reflected on the dew, sheening the grass. The scent of heavy grasses and wildflowers ripened in the burgeoning warmth. Bees hovered lazily above the clover. Darelle’s gaze fell on the body of one fat furry bumblebee as it passed in front of her. A sudden wild craving for clover honey gripped her senses with a force she’d never known before. “I cannot be a vampire,” she said as the craving for honey caused her mouth to water. “Why do you say that, my lady?” Kane asked. She looked up at him. “Because I desire to taste honey. Vampires crave only blood, n’est-ce pas?” She saw him glance at his brother. “The Coeurs Éternels do eat honey,” he answered. “It is the one substance from the mortal appetite that crosses over. The seer tells us that because our heart still beats, honey will remind us that there was sweetness in mortal life, that it was not always bitter.” “Also,” Gareth added, “aside from blood, the creature that produces the honey does not need to die before providing it.” “And honey can be put to so many wonderful uses,” Kane said with a tinge of sensuality in his voice. “Kane!” Gareth spoke sharply. Darelle glanced at Kane who chuckled, his dark eyes sparkling with a light of mischief. A pleasant tingle suffused her abdomen and spread downward to her sex. To her surprise, the sensation was not gripping and lurid, as it was with Lascaux. “There will be time for that later, Kane,” Gareth said. “We are about to hold a funeral. Please keep that in mind.” “Of course.” Kane looked sufficiently chastened. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

23

Sedonia Guillone

“I forgive you,” she said softly. But she was not at all disturbed by Kane’s flirtation. She had had very little social contact with young men and found the attention flattering, especially when the man was so very handsome. Darelle looked straight ahead. The vicinity of her father’s thatched-roof cottage was coming into view. “I do not feel so like a vampire,” she said. “I still don’t want to believe this.” “What about your flight from the window to the battlement?” Gareth asked. She hung her head. That could certainly not be explained any other way than she was no longer an ordinary human. “I don’t know,” she murmured. She heard Kane chuckle again. He was certainly the more easygoing of the two brothers. “Wait until you see someone committing a crime that is morally repugnant,” he said, his smile fading. “Then you will experience the vampire in you.” Darelle’s heart lurched in her chest and the backs of her hands prickled. “What do you mean?” she breathed. “Kane, you speak too freely.” Gareth scowled at his brother. “Lady Darelle, let us take care of your family’s burial and begin our journey home. You need time to accustom yourself to this change in your existence.” She nodded agreement although Kane’s words rang in her mind. She fell silent just as her childhood home came into view. If she hadn’t known of the horror awaiting her there, she would have thought life had gone on as usual. The only indications that death had permeated the tiny timber structure were the lack of smoke curling from the chimney, and yet more animal carcasses, some of her sheep, lying about the yard. Without thinking, she grasped Gareth’s left arm and Kane’s right. Kane’s cloak rasped under her fingertips, while Gareth’s corded muscle was more vivid through the white linen of his shirt. Gareth stopped, bringing Kane and Darelle to a halt. He stared straight ahead. “Is that your family’s home, my lady?” She nodded. “Oui.” Gareth sighed. “Kane, wait here with Darelle until I’ve buried them.” He put a large hand on her arm. “I don’t want you to witness it,” he said in a firm voice. Relief washed through her. “Yes, my lord.” Addressing him and Kane thus felt completely natural. According the title of respect to her guardians removed it from Lascaux. He looked at Kane. “Don’t let her watch.” Kane nodded and gently drew Darelle away, to the other side of a large chestnut tree. “Come, Lady Darelle,” he said gently, “saying goodbye will be hard enough without witnessing more death.” To her great relief, he pulled her into his arms. Resting his back against the tree, he held her close. Darelle closed her eyes, her cheek against Kane’s muscled chest.

24

Darelle’s Trinity

“I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to frighten or offend you, my lady,” Kane said as he caressed her tumble of curls. “I’m afraid that Gareth is the one who has the better control of his tongue…with words that is.” In spite of herself, Darelle could not suppress a smile. Kane seemed to have a gift for bringing humor into the darkest of circumstances, and of making her feel beautiful. “You haven’t offended me,” she said. “You make me smile.” He chuckled. “I’m glad to know that, my lady.” “You two look exactly alike, yet you’re so different.” “Aye, we are. However, there are two things upon which we absolutely agree and those things come before any of our differences.” Darelle raised her face from Kane’s chest and looked up at him. “What are they?” His expression was more serious. “The first is that we stay together, no matter what. And the second,” he brushed his thumb tenderly across her cheek, “is that you are loved and protected.” A pleasurably warm flush spread through her body at his words. “But you barely know me,” she breathed, becoming vividly aware of his rugged male body holding her close. His dark eyes simmered as he gazed at her. “Well, my lady, God willing, we’ll have eternity to get to know each other.” He pulled her against him and stroked her hair, his touch helping stave off the temptation to try to see Gareth in the process of digging the graves and removing her father, sisters and brother from the cottage and laying them to rest. After a while, she heard footsteps in the soft grass. Kane released her and they looked expectantly at Gareth. “The graves are ready, my lady,” he said, his expression solemn. She stepped forward, grateful for Kane’s hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Gareth picked up her hand and led her the short distance to the graves. She hesitated a few paces away then approached the four mounds of earth. Gareth released her and hung back with Kane, allowing her privacy. She stared at the graves as she went the last few steps. Gareth had made crosses from large twigs fastened with twine. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Au revoir, Papa, Michel, Christine, et Hélène,” she whispered. Silently she prayed that their souls found Heaven. She wondered why such a thing as the plague could exist and take the only family she’d ever known from her in a mere few days. She sighed heavily, blinking back tears. Kane and Gareth materialized on either side of her. Both her hands were enclosed in large, warm, masculine ones. She looked at each of them. “I cannot thank you both enough.”

25

Sedonia Guillone

Gareth bowed. “It is our privilege.” He touched her shoulder. “Come now, Lady Darelle,” he said gently, “there’s not much time. We have a long journey and need to find shelter before sundown.”

26

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter Four “Merde!” Lascaux swore for the thousandth time as he paced the cool earthen floor of the castle’s catacombs. Torchlight glimmered off the stone walls of the tiny chamber, apart from the larger space where his servants and undead knights spent the daylight hours. The injustice of the situation galled him. To think that this lowly shepherdess, undead for a mere few hours, was not only a Coeur Éternel, but the priestess of their clan. “What is this sudden obsession with some peasant girl?” Lascaux turned at Serge’s voice. His lover scowled at him, jealousy burning in his almond-shaped blue eyes. Guilt stabbed Lascaux’s chest. He didn’t want to hurt Serge, yet couldn’t control the mad lust raging through him for Darelle. He stopped pacing. “I don’t know.” Serge huffed and pushed away from the wall. “There’s a good answer. Well thought out and absolutely sufficient.” He sliced a hand through the dank air. “You actually thralled her. I can’t believe it! When I was mortal, you never thralled me.” Lascaux sighed, suppressing a sudden grin. “I never had to, did I?” Indeed, Serge, a young handsome nobleman nearly two centuries earlier, had pursued Lascaux relentlessly, first to become his lover, and then, to make him eternal so that they’d never be parted. Serge glared at him. “So, Valmont, I no longer please you, is that it?” He folded his arms across his chest. Lascaux almost winced at the pain in his lover’s voice. “Of course you please me.” He looked away and resumed pacing, his mind unable to keep away from thoughts of Darelle. “Would she have replaced me in your bed?” Serge’s voice was insistent, not letting Lascaux concentrate. Lascaux’s gaze flew to Serge’s. Those blue eyes rested on him, full of pain. Guilt made Lascaux snap. “What if she would have? You’re magnificent. You wouldn’t go long without someone else.” Serge’s lips parted and he stared. Without another word, he whirled around and stalked from the room, leaving Lascaux alone. Lascaux almost followed him. He owed Serge at least that much for his lover’s unequalled devotion. But he couldn’t. His obsession with Darelle consumed him, the source of it—a mystery. He could think only of how to get her back.

27

Sedonia Guillone

Apparently, capturing her and pleasuring her was one thing. Keeping her and winning her submission was another. One thing he knew for sure was that if he didn’t succeed in capturing her before she mated with her guardians, he would have a very long wait, indeed. He would have to work hard and fast as soon as the sun set. Lascaux stopped his pacing and sank into a velvet-cushioned chair, allowing the stillness of the catacombs to envelop him. Unfortunately, he would have to be patient. Her guardians were rather old themselves and were formidable opponents. Getting her away from them would take a great deal of reflection. And power. Even more than he had now. In the meantime, he would wait and watch, learn of any weaknesses Darelle and her guardians may have, for every vampire had at least one. Finding Darelle had taken several thousand years. He would wait and plan for another several thousand if he needed to. As long as she was his in the end.

***** A woman’s desperate cries cut through the hazy warmth of the green countryside. Darelle had been walking between Kane and Gareth for hours when the sounds carried through the air to their ears. Darelle halted, as did her guardians, scanning the area for the source of the pleas. “Over there.” Kane pointed in the direction of a meadow. Apparently, being much taller than she, he could see over the rise of land that obstructed her view. “There’s a cottage. The voice is coming from inside.” “A woman’s in trouble.” Darelle looked at Kane, hearing the plea in her own voice. “We must help her.” Kane started to move but Gareth lunged forward and stayed him with a large hand on his arm. “What if this is a trick of Lascaux’s?” Gareth growled. “You wish to risk our lady’s safety with your impulsiveness?” Kane shrugged his arm off. “It’s the middle of the afternoon. Lascaux can do nothing until darkness falls.” “What of the Soldiers?” Darelle looked at him. “Soldiers?” “I’ll explain later, my lady.” “I know how to handle them,” Kane said. Gareth narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Your arrogance will be your undoing.” He scowled and broke into a run in the direction of the cottage. Kane followed and Darelle went as fast as she could, lifting the skirts of her gown so as not to trip. She saw

28

Darelle’s Trinity

Gareth push on the door, finding it locked. He kicked it open and disappeared inside. Kane was close on his heels. Darelle reached the threshold and froze. Kane and Gareth had hold of a large man and were dragging him off a woman. Her face was smeared with dirt and tears and she was holding the ripped bodice of her dress over her breasts. She sagged against the wall, watching her rescuers pull away her attacker. Darelle went to her and as soon as she touched her, the woman turned and collapsed in her arms, her face buried in the hollow of Darelle’s shoulder. The man, dirty and ragged, struggled in vain to free himself of his captors’ grip. He let loose a string of filthy curses, including derogatory words for the woman in Darelle’s arms. “She owes me!” Kane and Gareth yanked simultaneously on his arms, hard, making him yowl. “No woman owes you her favors,” Gareth growled. “I don’t need to explain to you—” “Ta gueule!” At Kane’s barked order, the man shut up, glaring at him. Darelle helped the woman to a chair and kneeled before her, holding her hands. “I want to die faithful to my husband,” the woman sobbed. “My husband and children are gone. La peste has taken them all.” Darelle removed Gareth’s cloak and covered her. “What do you wish us to do with this dog, my lady?” Gareth asked. Darelle looked up in the direction of his voice and turned her attention on the man. He glared at her and struggled again, as if to free himself to attack her. His demeanor reminded her of Lascaux, igniting a vein of molten anger inside her. Heat burned in her eyes at his sudden look of panic and fear. “What are you?” he breathed. “A demon!” His eyes widened, his arrogance replaced with terror. Darelle realized her eyes must be glowing, as had Lascaux’s when he’d brought her across. Rising to her feet, she moved slowly toward him, feeling her own fangs emerge and push into her lips. “Non!” the man cried. He struggled now with desperation to escape. “What should I do with you, monsieur?” Darelle hissed, reveling in her new power and strength. The stench of the man’s fear mingled in the air with the reek of his sweat and filth. “Let me go. I beg you. I won’t touch her, even though she’s a whore.” Darelle’s hand shot out and grasped him around his neck. In spite of his thickness, Darelle found strong purchase on his flesh. Gareth and Kane released the man’s arms, 29

Sedonia Guillone

yet she found she kept the man in place as easily as if they still held him. She stared into the man’s bloodshot brown eyes. Sweat poured from his forehead and he trembled like a child. “Don’t hurt me, I beg you.” Looking deeper into his eyes, Darelle saw the first signs of the plague in his system. He would suffer enough in the next few days, without her help. She moved toward the front door, forcing him along with her, his neck in her grip. Kane opened the door for her and she shoved the man through as hard as she could and hissed at him. His eyes widened like saucers as he hit the ground on his bottom and scrambled to his feet. He turned and bolted, disappearing into a copse of nearby trees. “Mon Dieu!” Darelle heard the woman whisper behind her. Her soft voice broke the spell and the heat receded from Darelle’s eyes, as did her fangs. Darelle began to tremble as the realization of what she’d just done sank in. She turned around to find the woman staring at her, wide-eyed, pulling the cloak tightly around her as Darelle approached her. “Who are you?” In the shadowy light of the cottage, the woman’s eyes reflected both wonder and fear. “We are Coeurs Éternels,” Darelle answered softly. “We won’t hurt you, I promise.” She ushered the woman back into a chair and seated herself. The woman’s lower lip trembled. “Whoever you are, you saved me from Gachon. He was exacting his payment for burying my dead.” She shook her head as fresh tears spilled from her green eyes. Her sobs escalated to wails and she put her head down on her arms, her back heaving violently with grief. Darelle’s heart ached for the woman and she put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Madame,” she began softly, sensing the woman could hear her. “I share your pain. I buried my own family only hours ago.” The woman slowly lifted her head and looked at Darelle. “Forgive me.” Her lip trembled again and she swiped at her eyes with the heel of one hand. In the background, Darelle heard movement and the sound of something being dipped in water. In the next moment, Kane was handing her a damp rag. She accepted it and gently wiped at the woman’s dirty, tearstained cheeks, and under her nose, surprised at how obediently the woman allowed her to tend to her. Darelle finished and put the rag aside on the table. “What is your name, Madame?” “Christine.” A pang shot through her heart. “That was my sister’s name.” Christine stared at her through bloodshot eyes, her plump face lined with grief. “Doesn’t it make you want to die with them?” she whispered. Darelle nodded. “I did feel that way. But I cannot die.”

30

Darelle’s Trinity

Fat tears pooled in Christine’s eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “I want to die,” she said. Her eyes widened suddenly. “Please help me. I saw what you did to Gachon. Certainly you can put me out of my misery.” Darelle jerked back as if struck on the cheek. “Madame, I cannot hurt you.” The woman’s hand shot out and grasped Darelle’s. “Je vous en prie! I am infected with la peste. My death will come soon, painfully and tortuously. Please!” Horrified at the woman’s request, Darelle swung around to Gareth and Kane who stood behind her chair. “How can I do such a thing, my lords? She is asking me to…to…” “Have mercy on her,” Gareth finished. He knelt down by Darelle’s chair, his large, strong hands gently grasping her shoulders. “Darelle,” he said softly, “this is the only time we feed; in a time such as this. As an act of mercy.” Tears crowded Darelle’s eyes and she stared into the dark brown pools of his. Gareth’s gaze shone with compassion for her. She glanced at Christine who watched her hopefully, fresh tears glistening on her cheeks. Her gaze went to Christine’s neck, the prospect of feeding arousing her hunger. The desire enflamed her senses and the sudden craving for the coppery smell and taste of blood assaulted her. Gareth’s handsome face blurred behind her tears. Gareth looked at her. A small muscle in his jaw clenched and his fingers tightened on her shoulders. He leaned forward and pressed his lips into her forehead. A moment later, he ended the kiss and released her. Darelle knew what she had to do. Turning to Christine, she covered her hand with hers. “You understand what you ask of me, Madame?” Christine nodded. “Oui. My heart and soul are already dead. I wish only for my body to follow.” A dreamy look came over her eyes. “I will be once again with my Bernard and my children.” Darelle took a deep breath. The tiny cottage thrummed with the sound of Christine’s blood pumping through her body. The beat of her heart crashed in Darelle’s ears, arousing her bloodlust. “Very well, Madame Christine. I will do as you ask.” Christine grabbed Darelle’s hands between her own and held them to her cheek. “I cannot thank you enough. May God bless you.” With her own heart crashing in her chest, Darelle rose from her chair and stood by Christine. Gently, she pulled her hands from Christine’s and pushed back the woman’s blonde hair, which had escaped her cap in her struggle with Gachon. The sight of her tanned skin made Darelle’s fangs itch. In one swift motion, Darelle bent over her and sank them into the tiny plateau of soft flesh. Christine released a soft cry followed by a sigh of pleasure and Darelle withdrew her teeth and began to feed, suckling the blood that seeped from the punctures. The blood, sweet and coppery, slid down Darelle’s throat, slowly quelling the rapacious hunger inside her.

31

Sedonia Guillone

“Darelle, be careful not to bring her across.” Gareth’s voice cut through her haze of bloodlust. “Make certain that you drink until her heart stops completely.” The woman moaned softly, the way Darelle had sounded when she’d pleasured herself in the river. Christine’s body quivered and sagged in the chair. “Bernard,” she whispered. “Bernard.” Finally, she stopped moving and went limp. Her hunger satisfied, Darelle lifted her face from Christine’s neck and looked at her guardians. For a few brief moments, she had forgotten their presence. She wiped some blood from her lips with her fingertips, her gaze trapped by the glowing gazes of the men in front of her, their hunger palpable. She stood aside to let them feed. Kane lightly grasped the hand she’d used to wipe her lips and lifted it to his lips. He parted them and suckled the blood off her fingertips, his eyes glowing like burning suns as Gareth bent over Christine’s body. She watched him and Kane each bend over Christine in turn and feed. Her emotions churned at the sight of her guardians drinking the woman’s blood. When they’d finished, Kane picked up Christine’s body and laid her gently on the bed. “I will dig her grave,” he told them. When Darelle and Gareth were alone, she looked up at him. “I’m ashamed,” she murmured. Gareth’s eyes had resumed their normal, velvety brown appearance. He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Never be ashamed of an act of mercy, my lady.” His tone was soothing and kind. “Is it not God acting through you to have relieved the poor woman of her misery? It is only what she wanted.” He pulled Darelle into an embrace and caressed her hair. “I’ve killed many men, both as a mortal and a vampire, both for mercy and for bloodlust, and I can promise you I’ve struggled for centuries with my conscience. You gave her pleasure and mercy in her last hours when she felt most abandoned and alone. That is all.” Darelle closed her eyes, letting her body sag against her guardian. Her emotions drained from her with the relief his words granted her, and for the first time in what seemed forever, she felt at peace. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. Gareth cradled the back of her head in his hand. “You are most welcome, my lady.” In a little while, the door to the cottage opened. Kane’s broad physique filled the doorway. “The grave is ready.” Gareth nodded. He released Darelle and went to Christine, removing the cloak, which he handed to Darelle before picking up the body. Darelle threw the cloak around her own shoulders and followed him outside. She stood silently by, watching her guardians bury Christine by the three other graves and prayed for the woman’s soul just as the sun began to disappear behind the horizon. “It’s nearly night,” Gareth said when they had turned from the graves. “There is no more time to travel this day.”

32

Darelle’s Trinity

“There’s a small barn.” Kane pointed to a structure beyond the cottage, at the edge of the forest. “It’s empty but for a pile of hay.” Gareth nodded. “That will suffice.” With a hand on Darelle’s shoulder, he ushered her toward the barn and Kane took his place at her other side. In spite of everything that had happened, or maybe because of it, Darelle found herself grateful, frightened and thrilled all at once about the prospect of spending the night with two handsome men.

33

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Five Gareth held open the barn door and ushered Darelle inside. Kane hesitated in the doorway and Darelle saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll be back in a bit, my lady,” he said. “I want to get something for you.” A groan of frustration sounded deep in Gareth’s throat. “Are you mad? The sun is almost set.” Concern flickered across Kane’s eyes. “I won’t be more than a few minutes.” He looked at Gareth hard. “She needs this.” Gareth growled. “Hurry then.” He slid the heavy door into place and turned to Darelle. “Where is he going?” she asked. The shock of having fed on Christine had weakened her even though the blood itself had given her strength, and she teetered slightly. He reached for her hand, grasping her gently yet firmly. “I don’t know. But I do see that you need to rest, my lady.” He guided her to the giant pile of hay Kane had spoken of and settled down beside her. Without hesitation, Darelle leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his chest, comforted and bolstered by his hard strength. “Thank you, my lord, for what you said before.” A large hand caressed her mass of curls. With each stroke, the tension drained a bit more from her limbs and back. “You’re welcome, my lady,” he murmured. “I have lived through so much history in this world, enough to know that miséricorde is sorely lacking in mankind. One moment of your mercy to someone like Christine will turn the balance against ten acts of cruelty.” He fell silent and continued to stroke her hair. After a short time, a loud knock came on the barn door. Darelle gasped, lifting her head from Gareth’s chest. “Don’t fear.” Kane’s voice came from the other side. “It’s Kane.” Gareth rose and pulled open the door, bolting it securely behind his brother. Twilight had fallen, leaving the tiny structure in almost complete darkness except for the slivers of moonlight stealing between the slats of the barn. “I told you I wouldn’t be long,” Kane said to him. Mischief sparkled in his voice as he came over to the hay pile, hauling a bucket in one strong hand. “Our lady desperately needs something to sweeten these last bitter hours.” He set the bucket in front of her and lifted the rag that covered it.

34

Darelle’s Trinity

“What is inside?” she asked, peering into the bucket. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness just in time to see a wide grin curve Kane’s cheeks. “Ah, I will show you, my lady.” One large hand disappeared inside and came up. The richly sweet scent of wild honey filled the air. The aroma set off a tingling on her tongue. Her mouth moistened with the sharp desire for the honey. “Where did you find it?” “I know this countryside like the back of my hand, as they say. There’s not a hive I haven’t discovered and plundered at one time or another.” He brought his fingers to Darelle’s lips. “Go on, my lady,” he urged gently. “Have your fill.” He wiped a bit of honey on her lip, which she licked off. The pleasure of the sweet taste nearly caused her to moan. Without thinking, she grasped Kane’s hand and suckled each one of his fingers clean of the amber substance, finding she enjoyed the sensation of his large fingers filling her mouth as much as she savored the honey itself. When she lifted her face away from his fingers, she heard his ragged breathing. His large chest rose and fell heavily. On her other side, Gareth’s breath, too, had slipped to a heavy sound, and she realized that witnessing her little feast had aroused him as well. Embarrassed, she released Kane’s hand. “Thank you, my lord. I’m…sorry…for my greed.” Kane chuckled, a velvety, rich sound that deepened the pulsing between her legs. “Don’t ever be sorry for that, my lady. However, if you wish to return the favor.” He indicated the bucket. She smiled. “All right, my lord.” The honey was warm and sticky as she scooped a bit onto her fingertips. “Kane,” Gareth’s voice carried a warning in it. “Be careful. Colette is not here.” “I’m being careful. For God’s sake, man!” Darelle stiffened. Whoever this Colette was, she was important. “Maybe we should wait for Colette—” “Don’t worry,” Kane said. “I understand what he means, but I’ve learned a bit of control in the last few centuries.” He threw a mischievous glance in his brother’s direction. “Besides, he loves me. There is very little he can refuse me.” Gareth growled softly. “Shut up.” Darelle felt Kane’s hand close lightly around her wrist, lifting her hand. His breath was suddenly warm and the moist heat of his tongue lapped her fingertips, suckling each one with an erotic friction that made her wet down below. He moaned softly, the pad of his thumb caressing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “That was incredible,” he breathed. “Gareth, let her give you some honey.” “No.” The sound was stiff and Darelle detected how very badly he wanted to give in. “Don’t push me.”

35

Sedonia Guillone

“Come on. You’re far more disciplined than I, even. You can take a taste without taking more.” Gareth sighed deeply. “I’m not certain of that. Not with our lady.” His admission of desire caused her heart to pound. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll wait for Colette…as you say.” Her hand still rested in Kane’s, whose thumb continued to brush provocatively across her wrist. She wanted to ask about this woman whose name they kept saying, but Kane’s touch on her wrist made the question melt away. “That would be better,” Gareth agreed, his voice tight with obvious need. Kane sighed. “If you say so, brother. But I’ll remind you, this is only a taste. Even Colette would say it’s all right, as long as we all stay dressed. I think if Darelle were nude…that would be another story.” “Kane, ta gueule!” Gareth stared hard at his brother. Darelle witnessed the exchange between them, noting especially the husky tenor of Gareth’s voice that belied his anger. Kane looked at Darelle. “Don’t mind him. If you enjoyed that, wait until you see the other uses to which we can put this delicious substance.” He dipped his finger into the bucket and smoothed another tantalizing fingerful onto her lips. Gareth looked hard at Kane. “How disrespectful you can be at times, brother.” Kane smiled and set the bucket aside. He lay down on his side close to Darelle, his head propped on one elbow. “At times, perhaps,” he said, “but not when it counts.” Gareth growled, but assumed the same position on Darelle’s other side. “I’ll give you that, at least, for however much you taunt me.” Kane laughed softly. He reached out and ran a fingertip across the seam of Darelle’s lips. The touch made her shiver with the desire to roll onto her back, underneath him, her arms encasing his brawny torso. “You see, my lady? Gareth and I are too close for any obstacle between us. We’ve always been that way.” “I see.” She lay quietly for several moments, staring up into the dark rafters of the barn, her body and heart pulsing and pounding with an explosion of desires. Her two guardians lay close on either side of her, their masculine heat surrounding her, their musky scent blending with the earthy aroma of hay and night air. “Who is Colette?” she asked finally, breaking the simmering tension coiling within her. “She is the one who will prepare you for…your joining with us,” Gareth muttered. “A chaperone and guide of sorts, I suppose.” Apparently, the strain he felt still plagued him, for his voice was tighter than it had been moments before. Kane chuckled. “He leaves out some important details. Like, how beautiful and sweet Colette is. She is nearly as old as Gareth and I, yet we’ve only met her recently. She has been seen playing the role of courtesan in just about every royal setting in Europe for centuries.” He leaned into Darelle. “She is very experienced,” he whispered. 36

Darelle’s Trinity

He smiled and affected a feminine pose. “Oh, chérie,” he purred in what sounded like a feminine voice. He reached out and touched her cheek. “How pretty you are. You will be very pleasing to your guardians. Leave it to Colette, chérie. I will teach you everything you need to know.” He collapsed into laughter, a beautiful, rich sound, so infectious, Darelle, too, began to giggle. “Enough! The two of you!” Gareth was staring hard at her and Kane. Kane stopped laughing, but his eyes continued to glint mischievously and he pressed his lips together, suppressing more mirth. Darelle followed his lead and looked at Gareth’s sober expression, her own smile fading. “I’m sorry, my lord,” she murmured. Gareth’s use of the word “joining” echoed suddenly in her mind and she felt her cheeks tingle with sudden heat. “Joining” could mean only one thing. He sighed. “It’s all right.” A chink of light through the slats of the barn reflected in his eyes. Their silence set off his ragged breathing. “I’m being selfish. You’ve been through hell.” She nodded, her heart racing. She felt Kane begin to caress her hair gently from behind. “Perhaps you will let me give you some honey,” she whispered, looking at Gareth. “Oui, my lady.” Darelle’s breathing deepened. The moonlight outlined Gareth’s chiseled face, making him appear godlike. Kane’s caresses continued in her hair as she dipped her finger into the bucket and held it toward Gareth. In a flash of movement, Kane’s hand came out of her hair and closed gently on her wrist. He guided her finger to her lips, smoothing the honey on them. Gareth growled. “Kane, are you taunting me yet more?” Kane looked at him. A serious expression replaced the mischief in his eyes. “No, brother. I’m not taunting you. She needs this.” His hand went again to her hair, his fingers disappearing in the mass of curls. His fingertips gently rubbed her hair, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. “Go on, Gareth, kiss her.” Gareth moved closer and took her hand. He brought her finger to his lips and in the next moment, the moist warmth of his tongue caressed the fingertip, licking it clean of honey. He then turned her hand, palm up, and pressed his lips into the soft flesh. Gareth’s lips left warm impressions on her skin, stoking the ache of desire that swirled in her gut and down below. When he lowered her hand and leaned into her, the vision of his face swam before her. The light touch of his lips to hers made her breath catch. He pulled away a few inches and Darelle watched the tip of his tongue dart out and catch the honey he’d taken off her lips. Her chest rose and fell heavily and she felt drunk from her first kiss.

37

Sedonia Guillone

Gareth’s eyes were smoldering now, practically glowing in the shadows. He appeared to be struggling, restraining himself, yet in the next moment, cupped her cheek and leaned in, closing his lips over hers. Darelle’s eyes fluttered closed and she surrendered to the kiss. Her hand flattened against Gareth’s chest. Behind her, a second pair of hands splayed on her back, caressing it gently. Gareth’s tongue, wet and hot, swirled over hers and across her teeth, devouring every drop of honey that coated them. Kane’s chest pressed into her back. He lifted her hair off her neck, and pressed his hot lips on the nape of her neck. Darelle sighed into Gareth’s mouth, her body feeling like it was melting. A hand closed gently over her breast, large, strong fingers caressing her nipple over her clothing. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful and without thinking, she arched her back, pushing her breast harder into the hand. After several moments, Gareth lifted his mouth from hers. He breathed heavily and sat back, away from her. “I must stop, my lady,” he said. Tension coiled in his voice and his heavy breathing filled the space around them. Kane levered up onto his elbow. His hand rested on her breast, squeezing it gently. “Don’t stop now, Gareth. Don’t leave Darelle unfulfilled.” “Kane, stop it.” Gareth’s voice was a low growl. Kane chuckled. “Don’t you trust yourself?” Before his brother could answer, Kane reached out and grabbed Gareth’s hand. “She’s not ready.” “I’m ready.” The words slipped out before Darelle knew what she’d said. “See, Gareth? Don’t refuse her.” He pulled Gareth’s hand closer to Darelle’s breast. Gareth resisted but Darelle saw him relent. His large hand closed gently over her breast, fingers trembling. She caught her breath at the warm, erotic touch. “That’s it.” Kane settled back down beside her. He covered her other breast with his hand and caressed it. Darelle moaned softly, her body warm and tingling, mindlessly lost in the pleasure of her guardians’ hands on her breasts. Her nipples pebbled into hard buds under their fingertips, making her ache for their touch on her bare skin. Kane leaned over and took her mouth in a soft kiss, his lips brushing hers, coaxing them apart. Darelle surrendered to the kiss, her back arching, her tongue meeting Kane’s tongue in a heated dance. Underneath her skirts, her sex pulsed madly, swollen and slippery, ready to be filled.

38

Darelle’s Trinity

Kane’s hand slipped from her breast, down her stomach, his fingers seeking the cleft between her thighs over her skirts. Darelle gasped softly in his mouth, her legs parting instinctively to allow his fingertips to rub her intimately. Gareth gently pinched and rubbed her nipples, sending shoots of pleasure into her sex. Pleasuring herself had never been this intoxicating and the sensations crested under Kane’s fingertips, building and building… Darelle gasped again, her hips arching upward as the spasms erupted, her sex clenching against the waves. When she wilted, Kane lifted his mouth from hers, breathing heavily. He pulled Darelle gently back against him, his arm around her. He pressed small kisses into the side of her neck. Gareth’s hand slipped from her breast and she gazed up at him, sensing his troubled expression. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her heart galloping in her chest. Her lips still tingled from Kane’s kisses and her breasts from their touch. Her body was relaxed and languid. Kane had been right. She’d needed this very much. His chest heaved as he exhaled a deep breath. “Of course not, my lady.” “Don’t worry, Darelle.” Kane’s voice was soft in her ear. “When Gareth loves, his passion consumes his entire being. He’s not felt this way in centuries.” He punctuated his statement by nuzzling her hair. “Oh.” Darelle lay quietly in Kane’s embrace, absorbing the delicious torrent of emotions and physical sensations, not the least among them, bliss. Her maman would certainly have frowned upon her now, if she wasn’t already frowning from up in Heaven. Playing sensual games with honey with not one but two men out of wedlock, letting them touch and kiss you, was surely one of the most sinful things a girl could do. In the darkness, Darelle felt her cheeks burn. In the moment, she’d been intoxicated, but now, she remembered. Being with Gareth and Kane felt like the most natural, beautiful thing in the world and yet she couldn’t help the war inside her. “There is no fault, my lady. It’s just better to wait.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “Now rest. We have a long day tomorrow. I want to reach Paris by nightfall.” She nodded. “Yes, my lord.” Kane released her and she lay down in the hay. As soon as she was settled, she felt Kane move closer, spooning his body to hers, his arm draped over her, lacing the fingers of her left hand with his. “What about you, my lords? I had…pleasure. But you—” Kane pressed a tender kiss into her hair. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll have our pleasure with you soon enough. Sweet dreams, my lady,” he whispered. Gareth, too, lay down beside her, though not as close as his brother, and remained on his back.

39

Sedonia Guillone

“My lords,” Darelle whispered, “do you believe it’s possible to love someone after only one day?” “I believe it’s possible,” Kane said softly. “Do you, my lord?” She watched Gareth’s profile in the darkness. He sighed. “Aye, I do.” Darelle swallowed. A shiver passed through her body. Kane’s warm strength pressed against her, and Gareth was so close, she felt surrounded by maleness. How could this be evil or sinful? “So do I.”

***** Moonlight illumined Lascaux’s path as the horse he rode galloped away the miles. The vampire bent low over the horse’s neck, his eyes scanning the moonlit landscape for any cottage or barn in which they could be hiding. He’d already stopped in every dwelling he’d passed since leaving the keep at sundown, but had found nothing but dead or dying mortals. He’d spent most of the night searching and the sun would rise soon. There was not much time. Only one thing was certain, Darelle was somewhere in this countryside and he was going to find her. A white froth flew from his stallion’s mouth onto his neck and Lascaux reined the beast into a brisk walk, allowing him a bit of rest. The edge of the forest bordered the road and Lascaux listened carefully for any sounds in the dark depths which might indicate Darelle’s presence. The sound of a voice, faintly crying, reached his ears and he pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounted and moved in the direction of the voice. It was not until he drew closer that the blubbering sounds grew more distinct. “Demons,” a male voice was crying. “Demons.” Labored breaths punctuated his rave. “She’s a demon.” Lascaux moved more swiftly and found a heavy man on the ground, his back propped against a tree trunk. The man’s head lolled on his neck and when Lascaux looked closely, his penetrating vision discerned that la peste was beginning to ravage the man’s body. Normally, Lascaux would have excused the rant as the madness of being ill, but something in the man’s terrified voice drew him. He pulled aside his cape and knelt down. “Where are the demons?” Lascaux asked. At first, the man didn’t seem to notice him. “Demons,” he said again. He raised his face and looked at Lascaux. “Be careful,” he breathed. “Their eyes glow and they have fangs.” He fell silent and his head lolled again. “What did they look like?” Tension gripped Lascaux’s body. He was certain this man had seen her. “A girl and two men. She…threw me by my neck.” His voice was fading.

40

Darelle’s Trinity

Merde! Lascaux snarled and grasped the man by the shoulders, shaking him. “Where are they?” The man’s eyes widened. “They’ll hurt you.” “I don’t care. I must know where they are.” “Christine’s.” Lascaux growled and shook the man again. “Where the hell is that? If you summon the strength to tell me, I will make you feel better. La peste is eating you.” Curse the day he would feed in order to put a man out of his misery! He was not a Coeur Éternel! Yet the mere thought of feeding raised his bloodlust. He looked at the paunchy, filthy man. Normally, he would refuse to feed from such a creature, preferring a beautiful man or woman who offered him or herself to him, but his desperation for Darelle was driving him to an act of mercy. “I’m in such pain,” the man whimpered and began to sob. “Are you a doctor?” “Ach! Just tell me where she is and I’ll help you.” The man raised his hand and pointed. “That way. Over the hill. Not far from the road. A cottage and a barn.” His hand fell back to his side. His eyes closed and his head began to loll again. A surge of lust swept through Lascaux. His Darelle was so very close now. He almost rose and left the man to die on his own, but Darelle’s face rose in his mind and he found himself rooted to the spot, his conscience, that piece of him that had never really died in spite of all his efforts, nagging him. Ach! The side of the man’s neck was already exposed. He seemed completely unaware of what Lascaux was about to do. The moonlight was waning. Dammit! Lascaux leaned over and plunged his fangs into the soft flesh. As the mortals always did, the man released a sigh of pleasure, moaning softly as Lascaux’s fangs retracted. Lascaux fed, not stopping until he’d drained the man. Letting him fall away, Lascaux straightened, wiping the excess blood from his lips and chin with the back of his hand. The man had been huge and had provided enough blood to keep him full for quite a while. With one last glance at the large body, now at rest, Lascaux went back to the road and mounted his waiting horse. He galloped off in the direction the man had indicated, a smile coming to his face as he spotted a tiny cottage and barn in the waning moonlight.

***** Vampire sleep, Darelle found, was not like the sleep of a mortal. It was a sort of twilight state in which she felt pleasantly suspended and not completely unaware of her surroundings. Yet the rest was deep and satisfying. Darelle… Her eyes popped open at the sound of the horrifyingly familiar voice. 41

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle, ma petite…I’ve found you. Darelle gasped and sat up. “No!” she cried. Though she saw nothing but dim gray light, she flailed her arms, fighting off the voice that assailed her. “Go away!” “Darelle! Darelle! It’s all right.” Strong hands pressed her arms firmly down. “You’re safe.” Slowly, she came to recognize Gareth’s voice, and Kane’s, speaking to her in turn. “He found me!” She began to sob and fell forward against a brawny chest. Strong arms closed around her, both from in front and behind. “He’s playing with your mind, my lady. He cannot yet know where you are.” The reason in Gareth’s voice inched her toward restored calm. Kane’s hand stroked her hair from behind. “Gareth is right, Darelle. He may be able to travel to your mind, but with us here, he can’t touch—” Kane’s sentence was cut off by the barn door crashing open. She caught sight of a dark figure glide across the barn. He smashed into Kane, sending Kane crashing against the side of the barn. Darelle screamed. “Get back!” Gareth threw his brawn between her and the attacker, but not before Darelle saw who it was. “No!” she cried. Lascaux stood in front of the hay pile on which she and Gareth sat. Darelle cowered behind Gareth’s broad back while her guardian pressed backward, always having physical contact with her. Behind Lascaux, she saw Kane, his stance about to attack. “Don’t even try,” Lascaux said, obviously sensing Kane’s preparation for a counterattack. “Where are your crosses, gentlemen? I’m surprised you’re not brandishing them.” Gareth pressed back harder against Darelle, who clung to fistfuls of his white shirt. Even through her fear, Lascaux retained his erotic hold on her body, which swirled and churned with aroused heat. “Your arrogance never ceases, Lascaux,” Gareth said, a threatening snarl lacing his voice. “Even if Kane and I weren’t her guardians, your arrogance and forceful nature alone would prevent you from having her.” Lascaux’s gaze flicked to Darelle who peeked at him from her safe place behind her guardian. “Is that so?” “Aye. She is God’s way of reminding you that you’re part of the creation, not the Creator himself.” Darelle saw Lascaux wince visibly. She pressed her front against Gareth’s back, grateful for the release it gave her from Lascaux’s thrall. The fact that he aroused her so shamed her and she fought to keep him from invading her body as he always had.

42

Darelle’s Trinity

Lascaux growled. He turned, swinging his arm to knock Kane down again, but Kane stood like a stone pillar, absorbing the attack. He turned and swung his leg through the air, smashing a booted foot into Lascaux’s chest. The impact sent Lascaux reeling. He hit the wall and came back, whirling around in a balanced stance, his hands set to fight. Darelle watched the two vampires lock each other in combat. On the outside they appeared as two ordinary men fighting, but the crashing sounds they made from the impact of fists and boot kicks would have killed a mortal in one shot. Kane worked his way around until he had maneuvered his way closer to Darelle. When Lascaux lunged at him, he dove onto the hay, engulfing Darelle with his body until he and Gareth covered her completely. Lascaux stood before them. He raked his large hands through his hair. “Darelle, habibi, you don’t understand. I love you. These two only came to you because the Coeurs Éternels sent them. I’ve loved you for years. I brought you across as my own.” Darelle began to sob, her hands curling into Gareth’s shirt. Lascaux’s words ate at her, churning up the guilt she’d carried around with her her entire life, the guilt over her desires and secret fantasies. She hated herself for allowing his words to cause the moment of doubt in her guardians she was now experiencing. “Don’t believe him, Darelle,” Kane ordered. “We were created for you and you for us. Your existence and ours together was ordained by ancient scripture.” Darelle sobbed, wetting Gareth’s shirt with her tears. “Please, Lascaux, go away, I beg you.” Before Lascaux could answer, a pale ray of sunlight stole through the slats in the barn, landing on his cloak. He hissed and dodged the light, which caused smoke to rise from his body. The light only strengthened, forcing him toward the back recesses of the tiny barn. “He won’t come near you now, sweetling,” Kane said softly. “He’ll be forced to stay here until sundown. God willing we’ll have reached Le Coeur by then.” Gareth held her, rocking her gently, while Kane caressed her hair. Bit by bit, as her feeling of safety increased, her panic ebbed away. When she’d rested quietly for a few minutes, Gareth held her gently away. “You’re better now.” It was more of a statement than a question. She nodded and sat back, still vividly aware of Lascaux in the back corner of the tiny barn, a mere few feet away, cringing from the waxing sunlight. Kane pulled a clean kerchief from his pocket and wiped her tears. He pushed a wild lock of her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, Darelle. We won’t let him near you, again. I swear it.” “A little arrogant yourself, aren’t you?” Lascaux growled from the corner. “So certain you can protect her. If you weren’t Coeurs Éternels, you could kill me and end my threat to her forever.”

43

Sedonia Guillone

“Inchev!” Gareth shouted. Lascaux hissed at him. She looked at Kane. “What did he say?” Kane grinned. “He told him to shut up in Arabic. Lascaux was Egyptian before anything else.” His grin faded. “He’s taking advantage of our sworn vow not to end life, even his.” Gareth rose and held his hand out to her. “Come now, both of you,” he said. “It’s light enough that we can travel safely. He’ll have to wait. We must make good time.” She accepted his hand and let him assist her to her feet and off the hay pile. Her eye fell on the bucket of honey from the night before. As if he’d read her mind, Kane picked up the bucket and smiled at her. “For a snack later,” he said and winked. Darelle smiled and followed Gareth out of the little barn, grateful that Lascaux did not shout something after her. He had great amounts of pride, after all, and she realized he’d been sacrificing at least some of it for her sake. She emerged into the growing sunshine, leaving behind the place where she’d experienced her first kiss. Oui, that was how she chose to remember this place. Not the site where she’d first fed as a vampire or where she’d struggled with guilt and doubt of her love, but the place where a man she loved had kissed her. Kane took his place at her side, the bucket of honey in his right hand, and together, the three went back toward the road that would take them to Paris.

44

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter Six Merde! Lascaux paced in the shadows of the barn. His body ached for rest but his torment wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t sure what tormented him more, his desire for Darelle or the fact that such desire was making a once invulnerable vampire into a lovesick creature he didn’t recognize. He stopped just in front of a faint sunbeam passing through a chink in the slats of the barn wall. Dust motes danced on the dusky light. A mere pretty phenomenon to the eye of a mortal man—for him, a fatal weapon more potent than a stake. But there was something worse, something deeper that ate away at him. In the mere few hours since he had brought the girl across, he, himself, had changed. He’d most definitely changed. After knowing his own ways for centuries, the slightest alteration ripped through his being like a stake through the heart. Never before had he fed as an act of mercy rather than for pure pleasure. Never before had he been unable to ignore a simple human need to avoid suffering. Until he’d brought Darelle Mimieux across. Was it because Darelle was a Coeur Éternel? Non, he decided. Most definitely not. He’d brought others across and found them to be one of the eternal hearts. Though always vexed when it happened, he’d always been able to let them go. Darelle was different. And he couldn’t understand why. The barn door suddenly began to creak open. Lascaux shrank back from the sunlight pouring in, the rays of light that could reduce him to a mere pile of dust in minutes. He retreated to the darkest corner of the small structure, concealing himself from the two robed figures that filled the doorway. “He’s here, I know he is,” one of the figures said. The voice was deep and scratchy. Lascaux tried to place the owner of the voice. It did not belong to anyone he recognized. “I saw him move when we opened the door.” Their boots scraped on the straw and dirt floor, along with a heavier sound, the sound of a heavy bundle being dragged along with them. The light was reaching dangerously close. Lascaux hissed softly as he took refuge in the fading shadows. “Ah, there he is.” The face of the speaker remained hidden in the depths of his cowl, but the cross he produced from the folds of his brown robe glinted in the light. Lascaux hissed again and covered his burning eyes with an arm. “Who are you?” he demanded from behind the sleeve of his coat.

45

Sedonia Guillone

Low, satisfied laughter met his question. “The answer is simple, Minhotep.” The voice belonged to the taller man, the one who’d first spoken. He, too, lifted a cross before him in the shadowy light. “We’re your death,” the second figure said. “Don’t you know a Soldier of the Cross when you see one, Minhotep?” Lascaux crouched lower as the two men drew closer. He’d heard of this tiny sect of mortals whose sole purpose was to destroy vampires. As far as he knew, they’d never posed a serious threat. None of the vampires in his entourage had ever been killed by a Soldier. “Pardon me for not being able to tell a pile of shit from a Soldier of the Cross.” He watched them draw closer, anger at their presence making his chest burn. They were here to kill him? “My death, eh?” he said when they were a few feet away. “What makes you so confident?” There was that fatuous chuckle again. “This,” the scratchy voice rasped, throwing open the sack he and his companion had dragged in with him. The two men pulled back the burlap and let the weak shafts of sunlight splash over the bundle. Lascaux rose up, craning to see the dark form on the floor between the two men. “Recognize her?” Indeed. Dark hair spilled over the pale skin. A hand reached out lifeless, pale against the dirt floor and the sun caused a glint off the maroon satin of Viola’s dress. Lascaux growled. Viola had been in his entourage for three centuries, serving him faithfully. Unprepared for the grief that shot through him, Lascaux went to lunge at the bastards, restrained by the burning sunlight that caused his skin to smoke. He pulled back in pain. A booted foot came out and levered Viola’s body onto its back, revealing the scarlet hole staining the torn bodice of the dress, over Viola’s right breast. Just hours ago, the girl had served Darelle in his chamber. “That’s right, Minhotep,” the tall one said. “You and yours have polluted the earth long enough. We are no longer the tiny group of inept novices we once were. We’re everywhere now, killing off you bastards as quickly as we can get our hands on you.” He laughed again. “No more moonlight walks in the garden for this one, eh?” He pushed back his hood, revealing an angry face, lined with scars down one cheek, extending over his eye. He pulled the sack from around Viola’s body and advanced toward Lascaux, brandishing the cross. Lascaux shrank back from the symbol that burned his eyes merely from looking at it. “Look at Minhotep now, Darrick. Not so powerful, not so frightening.” The man waved the cross, grinning widely as Lascaux cowered and hissed. Darrick came around from the other side, waving his cross. Together, the two men were herding him toward the light. Their action was humiliating to say the least, but it

46

Darelle’s Trinity

was also deadly. They had crosses and daylight in their favor. He was theirs if they wanted him. And they did. He growled as the light hit his cheek, smoking and burning his skin. He shrank down, hissing and covering his head with his arms while their laughter rained over him. “He’s going to help us kill off his own,” Darrick said to the other one as they both took hold of the sack, holding it above him. “Cut off the head and the body will die too.” Grievously, the darkness of the sack closing around him was the only relief Lascaux had from the burning rays of the sun and the hideous pain of the glinting crosses. “He’s even going to lead us to the Coeurs Éternels, right, Cairn?” Lascaux heard Darrick say. “Aye. We saw the flight of the girl and her two companions. He’s the one who’s going to bring her to us and then drain her. Once she’s gone, the rest of them will be as easy to kill as geese in a sack.” They laughed, moving in closer to Lascaux, so close, that their stench, like rotted carcasses churned Lascaux’s gut. “We’ve spent centuries studying you and your kind, vermin, and now you’ll see there’s not a thing we don’t know about vampires.” Lascaux grimaced as the two thugs dragged him across the floor of the barn. He covered his eyes with his hands as daylight filtered through the tiny holes of the burlap, stinging and burning like poison darts. He thought briefly of his centuries of sin. Strange as it sounded, even to himself, never had he been a brutal and cold-blooded killer in the way these dogs were. If anyone knew that, it was poor Viola. She’d felt only pleasure when he made her. The taller man called Cairn grunted as he heaved Lascaux over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, a most ignominious fate for a man who had once been a pharaoh. Had it been nighttime, Lascaux thought, scowling in the darkness of the sack, he would have drained both these men of their lifeblood before they could even blink. Powerlessness was a curse beyond all others. As if to emphasize his plight, Lascaux felt his body being slung over something. A horse. They’d slung him over the back of a horse. His body lolled uselessly, his head feeling like a lead weight as the animal started to move. He had only one power left. And that was to honor his protégés, to protect them, as was his duty as their sire. Darelle. They wanted to kill Darelle. The mere thought gored him and he swore never to lead these killers to her. They could dump him from this sack right now into broad daylight and surround him with crosses before he would let them do to her what they’d done to Viola.

47

Sedonia Guillone

In the moment he made this vow, he understood what had happened to him. He’d fallen in love.

***** Dusk was settling as Gareth, Kane and Darelle reached the city and then the quarter where they told her Le Coeur was located. “Here we are, my lady. Paris.” Gareth put a hand on Darelle’s shoulder. “Rue Mouffetard, to be more precise.” Darelle stopped, her eyes widening at the scene in front of her. She’d never seen so many people in one place in her life. Men, women and children swarmed everywhere, in doorways, thronging along the sidewalks. Smells of food and human waste mingled in the air, which reverberated with the sounds of cries, yells and chickens squawking. Rickety carts lined the sides of the cobbled streets, loaded with every kind of fruit, vegetable and ware imaginable. The merchants were packing up and the glow of firelight emanated onto the cobbles from the awakening public houses. “Apparently, la peste has not reached our fair city yet,” Kane commented. The cobblestones pushed hard against her slippered feet and the hot summer air pushed the stench into her nostrils. Darelle began to feel dizzy, overcome by a sudden wave of homesickness for the bleat of her sheep on the green hillside and the lazy ambling of the river in which she used to bathe. The faces of her brother and sisters haunted her mind and she suppressed the pounding urge to cry. Kane’s hand closed over her other shoulder. He chuckled. “I know it’s overwhelming, my lady. Have no fear, you will have a beautiful place of refuge.” “Come, little one.” Gareth ushered her a few paces more down Rue Mouffetard before guiding her off the main thoroughfare onto a side street. As soon as they turned, the alleyway blocked off most of the sound and odor of the city, yielding only the mew of a stray cat and the squeak of rats. “This quartier was once a Roman road,” Gareth explained in the now hushed atmosphere of the narrow side street. “You will see more of their legacy in just a moment.” He led Darelle to a wooden doorway and knocked three times in slow succession. “Michael, it’s us.” In moments, the door unlatched from the other side and creaked open. Gareth led the way through the door. Darelle followed him with Kane behind her into a tiny courtyard. High walls surrounded the cobbled space on all sides so that all she could see above was the darkening sky and the exotically shaped clay pots brimming with bright red geraniums in each corner of the yard. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, she saw the person who’d answered the door, her breath catching softly. The man called Michael was tall with a thick mane of golden hair. Blue eyes regarded her thoughtfully from a chiseled face. A tunic covered

48

Darelle’s Trinity

his broad chest and shoulders and trousers just covered what appeared to be thickly muscled columns of male legs ending in boots. Michael bowed to her. “My lady, we have long awaited you,” he said in a solemn deep voice. Bewildered at the show of respect, Darelle curtsied. Michael straightened and looked at Gareth and Kane. “Thank God, you found her,” he said. “Colette is waiting for you.” The mention of Colette’s name caused her heart to quicken. Without even having met the woman, Darelle already associated her with the promise of carnal desires fulfilled and erotic pleasures her mind could not even imagine, far beyond the incredible taste she’d had the night before. Colette represented the step that led to Darelle’s body joining with those of her guardians. A shimmer of erotic awareness tingled through Darelle’s body as she followed Gareth to the opposite side of the courtyard and through a second door. The filmy material of the chainse under her gown grazed her nipples, heightening the light throbbing in her sex. Gareth led Darelle into a tiny room, plunged into near darkness but for a small torch burning in a sconce. The flickering light cast shadows on the stone walls, reminding her a bit of the bedchamber in Lascaux’s castle. A small opening, just narrow enough for one person to pass through at a time, served as the only other way out of the tiny enclosure, save for the door through which she’d just come. To her surprise, the air in the chamber was not tight or dank, but smelled of frankincense and myrrh, scents with which she was familiar from the marketplace in Orleans. Gareth turned to her in the doorway and held out his hand while Kane lifted the torch from its sconce. “Come, my lady. Colette awaits.” The slightly husky tone in his voice did not escape her, nor did the warmth of his hand when it closed around hers. She trembled slightly as he began to lead her down a winding stone staircase, lit only by Kane’s torch. The steps wound in a seemingly endless spiral. The air around them was surprisingly cool and the heady scent of the herbs intensified as they reached the bottom of the steps. “Welcome to your new home, Lady Darelle.” Gareth gave her hand a light squeeze before releasing it. Darelle blinked several times, her eyes slowly adjusting to the shadowy light. She found herself in a more brightly lit space, a large hall lined on either side by massive stone columns. Colorful mosaics adorned the long walls that banked two sides of the room. One the far end of the room, a stone fountain topped with a statue of a lithe nude woman pouring water from a vase showered and tinkled serenely. The floor of the long hall sported more mosaics, partly hidden under an arrangement of couches covered with silken pillows. One of the couches was larger than all the others, resembling more of a bed than a couch. “What a beautiful place!” 49

Sedonia Guillone

“Aye,” Gareth said. “It is this place I spoke of before. The Romans built this underground palace, which now belongs to our sect. It covers nearly as much space underground as Paris does above us.” He released her hand. “Go on, my lady, feel free to explore.” Darelle gaped. “My goodness!” She caught her breath and ventured into the center of the room. As she neared one of the luxurious couches, a simmering tendril of heat wound through her belly, snaking into her sex. Something about this room whispered to her of raw sensuality. Her nipples tightened against her chainse, her breasts ached, feeling as if they wanted to escape the confines of her gown. She continued her exploration of the room, aware of Gareth’s and Kane’s eyes on her. Nearing the mosaics, she sucked in her breath, understanding at least a bit more her erotic intuition about the place. Each picture of the mosaic portrayed a nude woman, lithe and graceful, in various sexual poses, her body entwined with two muscular men who pleasured her in ways Darelle could not have imagined existed. She stared at the pictures. Unbidden, her mind replaced her body and her guardians’ bodies with the nameless figures of the mosaics. It was Kane kneeling between her thighs, his mouth buried in her sex, his fingers gripping her thighs while Gareth knelt by her breasts, his mouth suckling one nipple while his hand caressed her other breast. In the background, a soft chuckle broke her musings and she glanced briefly at her guardians. Of course, Kane wore a large grin, while Gareth watched her, his face serious as always, his smoldering eyes the only indication that he was not completely composed. “Excuse me, my lady,” Kane said. “Don’t let me interrupt so rudely.” His grin faded, yet his eyes retained their sparkle. She couldn’t help smiling at him in spite of the burning of embarrassment in her cheeks. “It’s quite all right, my lord.” She turned and continued her exploration and moved away from the mosaics to examine the beautiful furniture. She approached one of the couches and ran her fingertips along one plush arm. A sigh escaped her, induced by the luxurious texture of the powder blue material. It had to be one of the softest things she’d ever touched. Tentatively, she sank down on the edge of the seat. The cushion beneath her absorbed her weight like welcoming arms drawing her to a soft bosom. Sensuality tingled through her body like the blood running through her veins, connecting every erotically sensitive part of her. Once again, the change in her existence overwhelmed her. She could never have imagined such a place as this, especially as her home, complete with two handsome men who were to be her… A feminine chuckle echoed delicately through the large hall, bouncing off the mosaics, absorbed by the soft carpets and couches. Her gaze flew in the direction of the tinkling laughter, captured by the sight of a lushly beautiful woman standing with her guardians.

50

Darelle’s Trinity

Colette. Darelle was certain. Darelle rose from her seat and walked toward them. They saw her and met her halfway. Her gaze locked with the woman’s. She had never seen a woman so pretty as this one. Flaxen hair arranged in an ornate swirl of plaits and curls adorned her head. Azure eyes sparkled with a potent mixture of sensuality and mischief. Her gown, a shade of blue silk that matched her eyes, accentuated her lush curves. An exotic pattern of embroidery, which Darelle felt certain originated in the Eastern lands, edged the very low neckline of her gown, bringing the eye to the satiny orbs of flesh threatening to spill over. Her skin, flawless and pale, looked so soft, Darelle had to suppress the urge to run her fingertips over the curve of her swanlike throat. “My lady.” The woman’s voice caressed her, velvety and throaty. She curtsied, her head respectfully bowed. When she looked up again, her eyes shone. “I am Colette.” She extended a graceful hand, the nails neatly sculpted and painted shell pink. “Welcome.” Darelle stared at her, awestruck. Next to this regal, sensuous woman, she felt like a skinny, gawky peasant. Not that she’d ever felt like anything else. Colette’s sophisticated allure only worsened the sensation. “I’m honored to meet you, my lady.” To her surprise, Colette’s gentle laughter filled the large hall. Her warm fingers tightened cordially around Darelle’s. “You needn’t address me with such formality, chérie.” She released Darelle’s hand and tenderly smoothed it over Darelle’s unruly tumble of blonde curls. “I wish to be as much a friend to you as a tutor. Please call me Colette.” Colette moved and sounded exactly as Kane had imitated her. Darelle nodded wordlessly. “Are there others who live here?” Colette nodded. “Oui, chérie. They are all busy preparing to welcome you. Your arrival is a most joyous occasion.” A movement stirred Darelle’s heart. Never before had such a fuss been made over her for any reason. Now in less than three days, she had two incredibly handsome men who loved her and pledged their loyalty to her for eternity as well as a group of followers who could not wait to meet her. “I wish I understood all this,” she said. “I’m being treated like a queen, but you don’t understand, I’m a shepherdess. I’ve never had anything but the clothes on my back.” Kane smiled gently and stepped toward her, cupping her cheek tenderly. “Perhaps your beginnings have been humble, my lady,” he said, “but it is this very background that has lent you the humility that makes a kind and fair leader.” “Now gentlemen,” Colette purred, picking up Darelle’s hand, “I will show our lady to her chamber and prepare her for her welcoming feast.” The realization that she would be separated from Kane and Gareth sank in and her gaze flew to their faces. She hadn’t realized how quickly she’d come to rely on their protection. Kane brushed his thumb across her cheek. His expression showed he’d understood. “Two days together already seems to have bonded the three of us, hasn’t it, Darelle?” 51

Sedonia Guillone

She nodded, putting her hand over his. “You needn’t worry, Darelle,” Gareth said. “We’re your guardians, never to be more than a few feet away.” “Preferably, we are to remain in the same room with you, even here in our home.” Relief washed through her along with a sparkle of joy and she smiled. “I am so glad.” “So are we, Darelle.” Kane lifted her hand and pressed a soft, promising kiss into her palm before releasing her. “Come, chérie,” Colette said, her voice silky with the same tone of promise. “You will have your bath and change your gown. I will do your hair for you.” Gently, she tugged on Darelle’s hand. When she looked over her shoulder at the two men close behind, Darelle did not miss the mischievous gleam in Colette’s blue eyes. “Since your guardians are to stay in the room with you, I daresay they are about to get an eyeful.” With that, she led Darelle out of the great hall and into another stone corridor glowing with light from oil lamps. Darelle’s body erupted into a mass of tingling nerves from Colette’s last statement, but she was too shocked and nervous to say anything. Colette led Darelle to a heavy door and pulled open the latch. “Your bedchamber, my lady,” she said in her silky suggestive tone, opening the door and stepping aside for Darelle. Darelle swallowed hard, her eyes bugging at the spacious room, larger even than the bedchamber Lascaux had brought her to, and far more inviting. A huge bed, larger than the tremendous couch in the main hall, sat against one wall. The frame, constructed of dark heavy wood, sported ornate carvings and a canopy wound with silken drapes in soft blues and greens. So many pillows covered the bed she could see only half the surface of the silken and fur comforters spread over the high mattress. She turned to Colette who had stepped into the room and stood, observing her, along with Gareth and Kane. “This is mine?” Disbelief saturated her question. Colette’s eyes sparkled in the lantern light. “It is, my lady. Yours and, of course, your guardians. Let us say, it is your wedding chamber for eternity.” The words wedding chamber caused a distinct thrumming in Darelle’s secret regions. She nodded wordlessly and looked again at the bed, realizing then that its massive size indicated a space meant to accommodate three sleepers. Three lovers. An immediate image of the previous night rose in her mind and she stared at the bed. “Are we actually to be married?” Colette chuckled. “Well, not exactly in the sense of mortal marriage.” She looked at Darelle and reached up to push back Darelle’s hair. Colette’s mirth faded and she grew serious. “The marriage between you and your guardians is far better. I know it sounds so strange to you, but destiny has chosen for the three of you what your hearts desired

52

Darelle’s Trinity

most.” She gazed into Darelle’s eyes with an expression that seemed to study her, delve into her mind. Colette nodded. Her blue eyes reflected a light of understanding. “Ah, I see, mylady. You are torn.” She smiled a soft, warm smile and cupped Darelle’s cheek. “You are excited about your new life and the erotic pleasures promised you with your guardians, are you not?” Darelle nodded. Unshed tears filled her eyes as Colette gave voice to her conflict. “But you have been raised with a strict religious code. Pleasure of the flesh is a sin, even within the sacrament of marriage. N’est-ce pas?” Darelle nodded. One tear slipped from her eye. Colette brushed it away with a gentle thumb. Her blue eyes looked stern and she looked up, her gaze moving from Gareth to Kane. “You Romans would not understand such an inner conflict.” Gareth bowed his head. “No, Colette.” Colette nodded. “It falls to you and your brother to help Darelle heal this split inside her, to teach her she need not fear her sensual nature. Are you willing?” Gareth and Kane both nodded. “Of course, we are,” Gareth said softly. “I second that,” Kane said. He looked at Darelle. She met his gaze and saw the smile tugging at his lips. He winked at her and she couldn’t help but giggle. Colette smiled and urged Darelle into the bedchamber. “Bon. Now, chérie, have a look around at your new room and then we will proceed.” Darelle obeyed and wandered about her new room, the size of which equaled three of the cottages in which she’d grown up. Ornately woven tapestries, embroidered with silken threads, draped the stone walls. More mosaics covered the floors, partially hidden from view by Oriental carpets of magnificent swirls of color. The furniture and decorative accessories around the sides of the chamber reminded her of childhood tales her father had woven of caves in which thieves hid their treasures stolen from faraway lands. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. Hot tears burned in her eyes. “It’s beautiful, Colette,” she said softly. “I’m very pleased you like it, my lady.” Darelle’s gaze traveled to another doorway within her chamber. Instead of a door, however, the opening was hung with strings of brightly colored beads. “What is beyond that doorway?” Colette smiled. “That is the bath chamber, my lady. Come.” She stepped up behind Darelle and slipped off Kane’s cloak, draping it over a chair. She then led the way in the direction of the bath, parting the gently clinking beads for Darelle to pass. The bath chamber was itself twice the size of her cottage at home. When Colette had said bath, Darelle had pictured a copper or wooden tub, such as Lascaux had set for her in his bedchamber. She was unprepared for the large, rectangular pond-like pool of 53

Sedonia Guillone

steaming water set into the ground with steps leading into it from the mosaic floor. Erotic statues of nude men and women, their bodies intertwined sat at intervals along the walls, along with large vases of ferns. More mosaics covered the walls, all enticingly sexual images. Clean white linen towels sat folded neatly on a stone bench against the near wall. A plushly woven rug covered part of the floor between the pool and the far benches. “I see we’ve rendered our lady speechless,” Colette said, humor lacing her tone. She stepped toward her, placing gentle hands on Darelle’s shoulders. “The Roman tub,” she went on, “a wonderful gift from our Italian ancestors. We must be grateful for their indulgent natures. Let’s remove your gown, my lady.” Darelle nodded, her heart suddenly pounding. She glanced at her guardians, her cheeks stinging red. They’d held her the night before, licked honey from her fingers and lips and she from theirs, and touched her over her clothing, yet they hadn’t seen her naked. Colette had Darelle toe off her slippers, then remove her bliaut. Left in her chainse, the thin, practically transparent material outlined her nipples, which had pebbled to cherry peaks as soon as Colette had told her to undress. “We’ll turn around, my lady, if you wish,” Gareth said, although his dark eyes were smoldering under their heavy fringe of lashes. Kane shot him a quelling glare, which his brother ignored. Darelle looked at both of them, their simmering masculinity wafting around her like a heavy, arousing mist. Her nipples tightened more, sending a thrum of heat to her sex. As shy as she felt, the desire to have them look on her bare flesh gripped her, more powerfully than Lascaux’s thrall because of the tender passion in their dusky gazes. She shook her head slowly. “No, don’t.” “Very well.” Gareth’s voice had already dropped to a husky tenor. With a gentle smile, Colette reached a manicured hand to the lace on Darelle’s chainse and pulled it. The gauzy article dropped to a soft puddle around her feet. Kane’s breath hitched. Gareth cleared his throat. Darelle lowered her face, glancing up at her guardians, feeling the merciless burning bloom in her cheeks. Colette chuckled, the sound echoing delicately off the mosaic walls. “I believe your guardians are pleased,” she said. “Perhaps, it is not too soon to begin your lessons.” Heat shot through Darelle’s body. “Lessons?” Colette winked. “Of course. When you join with your lovers, you’ll want to know what to do, won’t you?” Wordlessly, Darelle nodded, her body coursing with heat. Colette looked at Gareth. “What do you think?” He cleared his throat again. “I would agree.” Colette smiled and looked at Kane. “And you, my lord?” 54

Darelle’s Trinity

Kane grinned. “As if you need to ask.” The woman laughed a throaty, silky laugh. “Just a formality with you, my lord. The answer was already in your eyes.” She waved her hand. “Well then, gentlemen, don’t leave Darelle alone in her nudity.” Darelle’s gaze shot to Colette. Had she meant what Darelle thought she meant? Slowly, she turned back to Gareth and Kane who were already busy pulling off their boots and loosening their buckskins. Gareth was the first to pull off his tunic, revealing an expanse of muscular chest dusted with glistening soft black hair and dark nipples. The flawless olive tone of his skin set off each carved ridge and bulge of muscle. Kane yanked off his tunic, exposing an equally sleek, muscled torso. His gaze remained on Darelle, his eyes dusky as he stepped out of his buckskins, one long muscled column of leg after the other. He stood up straight with a brazen air, dropping his trousers on the bench behind him. Beside him, Gareth, too, was divesting himself of his last bit of clothing, leaving the two warriors-turned guardians standing completely, magnificently exposed to her view. Her eye was drawn to their thick cocks, the shafts, veined and darkish purple from the engorgement of arousal, sprang from dark hair. Colette’s hand sifted gently through Darelle’s curls. “How does it feel to know they are your lovers for eternity, chérie?” she asked, mischief tingeing her husky voice. Darelle nodded. “Very lucky.” “Our good fortune is equal,” Gareth murmured, surprising Darelle with his first unsolicited comment indicating his desire for her. “Destiny has smiled on you all.” Colette guided Darelle toward the pool. “Remember, my lords,” she said as she held Darelle’s hand, assisting her down the steps into the steaming water, “touching, tasting, caressing, are all allowed. You may even spill yourselves on her body. But not inside her. That is for your first joining.” A mischievous grin spread across Colette’s porcelain cheeks. “That is what I’m here to prevent.” She motioned for Gareth and Kane to join Darelle in the pool. The water soaked Darelle’s skin deliciously, reminding her of her wonderful baths in the river. The hot water, however, stimulated her already pulsing loins. She waded in a few feet, and stood, watching Kane and Gareth step into the pool and wade toward her. The water covered her just to the underside of her breasts, whereas Gareth and Kane remained exposed to their waists. Under Colette’s watchful eye, they came and stood before her, close enough to touch, their chests rising and falling in a slightly ragged rhythm. “Now, Darelle, listen carefully. Desire is not a sin, nor is the fulfillment of it sinful. Your guardians are your mates for eternity and the pleasure you experience with each other has been ordained by destiny. If you believe in Dieu, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, then you must believe that that same Creator made you and your guardians for your own purpose.”

55

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle looked at her. No one had ever said such things to her and she did feel intense relief from them. Never before had she considered such a point of view. She nodded and looked at Gareth and Kane. Heat shot through her body. “Gareth and Kane will never force you to do anything you don’t wish them to do. They are sworn to protect and love you. Give them the chance to prove this. You touch them first, chérie,” Colette instructed in a gentle voice. “In any way you wish. They will not touch you in return until you give your permission. Does that help?” Darelle nodded, her gaze remaining fixed on the two naked men in front of her. Steam from the bathwater curled up around them, leaving a shimmering mist on their olive skin. She hesitated, seeing their restraint and felt emboldened. Her eyes were at the level of their chests and she looked from one to the other. Reaching her hands out, she laid her palms, flat down on each of their chests, her fingers splayed over the slope of the pectoral muscle. She sucked in her breath lightly at the delicious feel of warm, masculine skin, damp from the steam, quivering under her touch. “Ohh,” she breathed. Their dark gazes both simmered down on her, roving over the swell of her breasts tipped with rosy nipples, darkened to a shade of cherry from tight arousal, down her pale stomach to beneath the surface where her blonde nest of curls lifted gently with the lapping of the pool water. “Don’t be afraid to explore, chérie,” Colette said. “Touch them, caress them, taste their skin and muscles. Fulfill your fantasies. They won’t bite.” She chuckled. “Not unless you want them to.” Darelle looked at them both, droplets of mist beading on their muscles. Truly, they were more beautiful than any landscape and she wanted nothing more than to touch them. She skated her hands lightly up, skimming her fingertips across their collarbones, palming the sides of the strong columns of their necks and back down. She passed the pads of her fingertips over their nipples, noting the flat smoothness of the dark brown skin that puckered at her touch. “Step in closer, chérie.” Colette’s voice sounded distant, heard through the singing of her heated blood in her ears. Colette’s gentle instruction sent a delightful shiver through Darelle’s body, as if she were being given absolute permission to fulfill every forbidden carnal desire she’d ever harbored. Without that encouragement, shyness might have made her stop, but she moved a bit closer, feeling like the most fortunate female in the world. Darelle ventured her touch downward, dragging lightly through the silky hair on their chests to the trail of it that traveled down the center of their ridged abdominal muscles. Closer and closer to the surface of the water her hands descended, her pulse racing as she anticipated closing her fingers around their… A hand grasped each of her wrists in the instant before she submerged her hands. She let out a small gasp and looked up. Her eyes met first with Gareth’s, the dark fringe of lashes half hiding his velvety eyes. His dark olive skin flushed and his breathing rasped.

56

Darelle’s Trinity

“With your permission, my lady,” he said, his tone husky, “I cannot wait to touch you.” She flicked her gaze to Kane who nodded. For the first time, the brothers were in agreement about touching her. She’d been enjoying her exploration, but found herself wanting their touch. She nodded even though her heart pounded. “All right.” “For each of them, chérie, it is an honor to offer you to the other.” Colette moved a few paces along the edge of the pool as Gareth surrendered her other wrist to Kane who turned her body around so that her back was to him. He pulled her against him, fitting her softness against his hard body. She sighed and melted against him. The rigid length of his cock nested between her buttocks, caressing her as he rocked against her in a barely perceptible motion. Her sex pulsed madly and she felt as if she had a pool of her own seeping from between her legs. Kane held her wrists gently but firmly, keeping her steady, making his symbolic offering to Gareth who moved so close to her his chest practically brushed her nipples. “Darelle…” Gareth cupped her cheeks, brushing her skin with his thumbs. “So soft,” he murmured. He continued to caress her skin, his fingertips tracing a sweet path to the seam of her lips. He tilted her chin up and slanted his mouth over hers. “Mmm.” Darelle surrendered to the kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed, his scent filled her. He feathered the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, coaxing her lips apart. Gareth deepened their kiss, swirling his tongue against hers. The pleasure of Gareth’s kiss made her dizzy, as if from wine or mead and she sagged backward against Kane whose strong body made a wall of strength against her, his erection pushing mercilessly into the crevice of her buttocks. Kane cupped her elbows, gently stretched them back so that her breasts jutted out, her hard nipples brushing Gareth’s chest. Gareth moaned softly and closed his palms gently over her breasts. His calloused skin chafed her sensitive flesh. He feathered his thumbs on the erect tips, the movements tiny circles that made them tingle fiercely. Darelle moaned into his mouth and arched her back as if to press her breasts harder into his hands. Gareth responded, his kiss and touch growing wilder. “Beautiful,” she heard Colette say, her voice silky. “You three are so beautiful together.” All too soon, he lifted his mouth from their kiss, leaving her lips swollen and moist. His touch receded from her breasts, nearly causing her to groan her disappointment. She thought he was teasing her, but when she looked up into his eyes, the savage lust and need burning in them told her there was another reason for his withdrawal. His gaze dragged from her face to his brother’s. He nodded, a brief flicker of movement, apparently a signal to Kane who turned her around to face him then released her elbows. Gareth grasped her upper arms and gently pulled her back against him.

57

Sedonia Guillone

As she had with Kane, she settled her backside to his front, her soft buttocks offering a nest to Gareth’s throbbing erection. The scent of incense mixed with the musky aroma of their bodies and the ways they were touching her made her entire body thrum with the most unimaginable pleasure. “Beautiful Darelle,” Kane whispered. He smiled and threaded the fingers of both hands into her curls, letting the unruly tresses sift through his fingers. Darelle sensed he was teasing her, watching her eyelids flutter, her lips and breasts swell, her chest heave. Her body surged. Her sex felt slippery and open. Would he make her beg for his touch and kiss? “What would you like me to do, belle?” His voice taunted her. Droplets of water glistened on his smooth olive skin. His chest and abdominal muscles flexed with his ragged breathing. Normally, such a question would have made her blush, would have embarrassed her into silence, but Gareth’s touch on her breasts and his kiss, the sight of their naked bodies were driving her to wanton need. “Touch me, please,” she said, breathless. “Where? Here?” He brushed the fingertips of one hand over her cheek. “Lower.” Behind her, Gareth’s erection pulsed against her, obviously driven by her exchange with Kane. “Ah, here,” Kane said in a teasing voice. He continued a trail down the curve of her throat to the hollow at its base. “Kane, I beg you.” He traced each side of her collarbone, teasing little circles on her chest. She whimpered under the delightful torture. Kane’s touch made her nipples ache and her sex throb to the point of near pain. A wicked grin spread across his face, his chocolate brown eyes both dusky and mischievous. He backed up to the side of the pool where a seat had been carved into the stone foundation. “Bring her over here, Gareth,” he said. “You offered her to me in your turn, brother, but I say we pleasure her together.” Gareth nodded and gently pushed her from behind to where she stood just in front of Kane. Kane looked up at her. His eyes smoldered, the dusky hue made more sensuous by the heavy crescents of lashes over them. He grinned and touched her cheek. “Just the right placement,” he said in a velvety tone. Reaching his arms around her, Kane drew her closer and leaned his head to her breasts. He nuzzled one then the other. Her nipples poked out, dark red at the tips, tingling from his hot breath caressing it while Gareth drew her upper arms back. The movement brought her breasts closer to Kane’s mouth. “Mmm,” Kane murmured. He closed his mouth, hot and moist over one nipple.

58

Darelle’s Trinity

She threw her head back and cried out softly from the pleasurable suction. Kane laved fiery strokes over the sensitive tip with his tongue while Gareth held her. His light grasp on her arms rendered her immobile and all she could do was remain still and enjoy Kane’s mouth on her nipple. Darelle sank against Gareth, her mind and body full of pleasure. Darts of heat traveled from underneath Kane’s mouth straight into her sex. Kane reached for her arms and held her in place himself. In her haze of pleasure, Darelle felt Gareth’s hands slide down her sides. His strong hands cupped her hips and he pulled her body more firmly against his erection. One hand slid from her hip to her thigh, caressing it under the surface of the water. Gareth’s fingertips slid in a teasing trail up and down, edging closer to her throbbing sex. Tension crept into Darelle’s body, intensifying as Gareth drew closer to her intimate core. Kane lifted his mouth from her breasts and looked into her eyes. Concern had replaced much of the duskiness in his eyes. “What is it, my lady? Did I hurt you?” She nodded, ashamed of her sudden shame. “It’s all right, Darelle.” Colette’s voice made her look up to where the other woman knelt nearby at the edge of the pool. Colette smiled in that gentle way she had and she looked at Gareth and Kane. “Gareth was about to touch the part of you that is associated with the deepest shame, n’est-ce pas?” Again, Colette had voiced her distress and she nodded. “Oui. I am sorry, I don’t mean to be a—” “Not at all, my lady.” Colette gestured. “So many women carry this burden.” Her blue eyes sparkled. With Darelle’s arms now free, she clasped Kane’s head, following his movements on her breasts. He suckled her nipples, the friction causing her to cry out. His shortcropped hair bristled softly against her fingertips and she bent over, her cheek resting on the top of his head. Gareth squeezed her buttocks, his fingertips venturing between them. Her breath caught as he thrummed his touch up and down her slit. Instinctively, her body melted open and she felt his hand spreading her lower lips open. Gentle fingertips probed her opening, finding it swollen and pouting with need. One finger, then two, sheathed themselves inside her, sliding in and out in tiny thrusts. Darelle moaned and lifted her head, tilting it back, her eyes closed. A second hand ventured down to her sex from the front. Kane’s fingertips found the tiny button of flesh at the top of her opening and rubbed it in tiny circles.

59

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle’s feet lifted from the bottom of the pool and her body felt completely liquefied. She braced her weight on Kane’s shoulders, her head thrown back, resting against Gareth’s chest. White heat exploded in her sex. “Oh!” she cried out, her mouth in the shape of the syllable she uttered as her sex clenched against the spasms of bliss. Her eyes opened to see Kane grinning at her before she slumped over, her forehead on his shoulder. Gareth’s hand slid out from between her thighs, to her waist. He maneuvered her body, light as air through the water to sit between him and Kane on the stone seat. Colette approached the trio and knelt down nearby. She chuckled softly. “How are you, chérie?” Darelle looked up, her eyes half-closed. Gareth had pulled her back against him and caressed her hair while Kane nibbled playfully at her fingertips, flickering the tip of his tongue on the sensitive pads. Already, the moist warmth of his tongue had reignited the heat of desire between her thighs. “There are no words for it,” she murmured. Colette’s blue eyes sparkled and she laughed. “This is only the very beginning, chérie. There will be even more before you get out of this bath.” Even before she spoke, Gareth had stirred behind her, his erection throbbing and pushing against her back. Darelle sensed the need for release coiled within her two guardians, yet they were protective of her even from themselves. They were obviously holding back, waiting patiently for their instruction from Colette. “Were they gentle enough with you, chérie?” Gareth’s fingertips grazed the sides of her arms, the damp warmth of his skin fused with hers. He nuzzled her hair, while Kane continued tasting her fingertips and pressing tender kisses into the soft flesh of her palm. Her heart pulsed with warmth for the two men who’d shown her nothing but tenderness from the moment they’d rescued her from Lascaux. She looked at Colette, her body languid and weakening further with her desire to give them release. “I couldn’t imagine two gentler men,” she answered. “I cannot believe my good fortune.” Colette smiled. “Believe it, chérie. You, Gareth and Kane are now the Keepers of our sect. The union between the three of you will keep the balance of power and justice within the realm of the undead. We had hoped for mere compatibility. The love that seems to be blossoming between you and them is a blessing, indeed.” Gareth pushed her damp curls aside and pressed a kiss into her neck, nuzzling and suckling on the tender skin. His hands slipped to her front, cupping her breasts, brushing her dusky nipples with his thumbs. His erection pushed urgently into her lower back. Darelle moaned softly. “What may I do for them, Colette?” she breathed, her body once again alive with hot need.

60

Darelle’s Trinity

Colette’s smile couldn’t have grown any wider, stretching her fine porcelain cheeks. “I will show you myself, chérie.” She stood up and looked to the beaded doorway. “Michael, my love,” she purred. Darelle turned in time to see the handsome blond man who’d let them into the courtyard standing in the doorway, pushing aside the beads. She gasped and turned to Gareth, pushing her front against him to hide her nudity. He put his arms around her and Kane covered her from the back. “Trust Colette,” Kane whispered. Colette crossed the room and picked up Michael’s hand. “Is it all right I’m here?” he asked as she led him over to the side of the pool. “Of course, mon amour.” Darelle pressed her face into Gareth’s warm damp chest. The soft hairs brushed her lips. His hands tightened over her back. She heard Colette and Michael approach. “Darelle, don’t worry.” Colette’s soft voice was close to her now. She smiled. “In another moment, he won’t be able to see anything.” Darelle peeked up. Michael stood with his back to her. She looked at Colette who had knelt again at the side of the pool. To her surprise, Colette was looking at Gareth with a mildly reproving expression. “Perhaps your guardians should have explained to you that although we are not a promiscuous bunch, we are very voyeuristic. It is our way.” She reached out and ruffled gentle fingertips through Darelle’s hair. “I trust the Creator, Darelle, in spite of what I’ve been in my mortal incarnation. He would not have made of you a Coeur Éternel if this were to violate you.” Sympathy melted her blue gaze. “I’m sorry we move so fast. It’s just that we’ve been waiting for our priestess for hundreds of years. It seems a torture to wait a moment longer.” Michael stood near her and she wrapped a hand around his boot. “For nearly a thousand years, even after I was brought across, I wandered the earth, searching for others like me. I’d never known any other life but that of a prostitute and that was what I did. Until Michael found me.” She smiled and love made her entire visage beam. “I never imagined that I would spend eternity with someone so beautiful and special.” Her hand passed tenderly over Darelle’s hair again. “Don’t worry, petite, you and your guardians will have plenty of private moments, as many as you wish to have. But for your initiation, the ones whose lives are governed by your union with Gareth and Kane must be witness to it. All right?” Darelle nodded, more than faintly aware of the light pulsing coming back to life in her sex. She stared, unable to answer. Colette patted Darelle’s hair. “I understand. As you say, you were a shepherdess. This is all new to you. One thing at a time, all right?” “Oui, Colette,” she said softly. Colette smiled. “Merci, Darelle.” Her hand smoothed over Michael’s boot, up to his thigh, rubbing it over his trousers. She turned to him, balancing on the balls of her

61

Sedonia Guillone

slippered feet and gazed up at him, her dusky lips slightly parted. Her graceful hands, the nails perfectly manicured, skated over his thighs, front and back, slipping up over his buttocks. Michael’s breathing rasped sharply and his erection bulged in the front of his trousers. One large hand disappeared into Colette’s golden curls, loosening the pins. Her silky tresses tumbled down, sifting over her shoulders and down her back. Darelle realized she was forgetting her embarrassment, her attention rapt in watching Colette and Michael. She turned in Gareth’s arms, becoming aware that his breathing, too, had tightened and that behind her, Kane was breathing raggedly, his fingers slipping through her hair, his erection pressing against her lower back. Colette’s fingers nimbly worked open Michael’s trousers, slipping them down past his hips. They pooled at his knees, revealing his cock springing from blond hair toward Colette’s face. His buttocks were round and powerful, melting into sloping thighs muscles. Lovingly, Colette smoothed her hand over the swollen head and veined shaft, dark with arousal, slipping her touch down over the sac underneath. Her eyelashes fluttered and she smiled up at Michael before closing her eyes and taking him into her mouth. Darelle let out a small gasp, her attention completely captured on Colette’s lips sliding up and down on Michael’s erection, anointing it with her saliva. The tiny muscles in Colette’s jaw worked as she brought her mouth to the tip and then engulfed it again with a suckling sound. Michael moaned, his hands woven into her hair. Kane stirred behind to Darelle, and slipped a hand over her breast. He squeezed the swell of flesh very gently, the pads of his fingertips brushing across her nipple. Gareth leaned into her, his hot breath caressing her skin. One hand smoothed over her bare shoulder as he leaned over and nibbled at her earlobe. She moaned softly, yet fought the impulse to lean back and close her eyes. Colette’s oral massage of her lover’s shaft riveted her attention. The rhythm of her suckling had increased and her head bobbed up and down with the movement of her lips. Every few strokes, she paused at the head and Darelle could see the tip of her tongue push gently into the opening or lick away the droplet of seed that seeped from the tiny opening in the head. Before this moment, Darelle had never imagined that men and woman used their mouths on each other’s lower privates. The pulse in her sex had increased to a throb, driven by the sight of Colette and Michael and by Kane’s hand on her breast and Gareth’s mouth pressing into the soft skin of her neck. Before long, Michael let out a soft groan, his head thrown back, his face flushed. Colette pulled back, letting Michael’s seed spill into her mouth and over her lips and chin. Her hands still caressed his buttocks with loving strokes. He pulled away from her mouth and dropped to his knees beside her on the carpet, encircling her in his arms. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and gently wiped his seed from her lips and chin. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered.

62

Darelle’s Trinity

Colette rested her cheek on his shoulder, one hand running through his luxurious gold mane. “Anything for you, my darling.” She turned and looked at Darelle, breaking into a wide smile. “I see that I answered your question, chérie.” With her eyes feeling frozen wide open, she nodded slowly, even though Gareth and Kane were both caressing her body. She worried she could never make her guardians feel as pleasured as Colette had Michael. Her concern must have shown on her face, for Colette said, “Don’t worry, chérie, just be gentle and watch your teeth. You’ll do fine.” She sat back in Michael’s embrace, tilting her head to allow him to nuzzle more of the side of her neck while she spoke with Darelle. “Now since unfortunately you cannot take them both at once, they must offer you to each other.” She looked at Gareth and Kane. “Since you are the first to enter her tomorrow, perhaps Kane will be the first now to take some pleasure with her. What do you say?” “That is more than fair,” Gareth murmured, the tightness of arousal thickening his voice. Colette turned to Kane. “And for you?” He nodded, his breath catching audibly. “That is fair for me as well. As long as this is something Darelle wishes to do.” He turned to her, his dark eyes dusky, yet concerned. “I do want to, my lord,” she said softly, still breathless from having watched Colette pleasure Michael. Kane cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her. His lips brushed sensuously over hers, lingering against them, his tongue brushing the seam with great tenderness. When he lifted his face, his brown gaze smoldered over her cheeks, falling to her breasts, lingering there for just a moment before he rose up and sat on the edge of the pool. Darelle’s heart pounded. She kneeled on the bench between Kane’s knees, up to her waist in water. The sound of water sloshed behind her and she felt the heat of Gareth’s body shimmering along her back, the light whisper of his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t be afraid to explore him,” Colette said softly. Darelle looked up and saw her sitting on the rug, leaning back against Michael whose arms were wrapped around her from behind. His eyes were closed, Darelle sensed, so as not to make his new priestess uncomfortable. “Let your desire to please him and everything that he means to you guide your hands and your mouth. There is absolutely no shame in pleasuring your lover.” Colette’s silky voice swirled in Darelle’s mind. The water was scented with some sort of rose scent that wafted in her nostrils. She placed her hands on Kane’s powerful thighs. His skin was warm to her touch and the hard muscles quivered against her seeking fingertips. His erect shafted pointed toward her, thick and veined. She slid her hands up his thighs, hearing his soft intake of breath as her palm glided against his damp skin toward his sex. Gingerly, she reached out one hand, pressing her

63

Sedonia Guillone

fingertips to the shaft. The skin was surprisingly velvety and smooth. She stroked it lightly several times, eliciting a soft groan from Kane. She glanced up at him. His broad chest heaved and his lids were heavy over his eyes. Encouraged by his obvious enjoyment, she wrapped her hand lightly around the hard length and rubbed up and down as Colette had done to Michael. Kane’s groan was louder now and he moved his hips in a rhythm against her hand. Gareth’s hands tightened on her shoulders and on the edge of her consciousness she sensed his trembling. “That’s it, chérie,” Colette crooned. “I think you were born naturally for this.” “Aye,” Kane breathed, his head tilted back, his eyes closed now. Darelle stared at him, almost forgetting what she was doing, so difficult was it to believe that she was bringing him so much pleasure. So much time spent alone on the hills with her herds of sheep, the idea of such a close connection with another was still foreign to her. “Please don’t stop,” he rasped. “Taste me, Darelle, I beg you.” Darelle looked down, realizing her hand was not moving. She leaned over, touching her tongue to the swollen head. “Ahhh,” Kane breathed. Darelle took the head into her mouth, lolling her tongue slowly around the small lobes of the tip, venturing the tip of her tongue into the tiny hole. Droplets of Kane’s seed had seeped out and she tasted it, swallowing the tangy fluid. The feel of his hardness in her mouth, pressing against her tongue aroused her hunger. Her own sex throbbed with the deep ache to be filled and she took more of Kane’s cock into her mouth. “Darelle…” he whispered gutturally. Darelle took him deeper into her mouth, imitating what she’d seen Colette do. It felt awkward, trying to keep her teeth from the sensitive skin and still suckle the shaft, but she did her best, judging from Kane’s moaning that she was touching the right spots. She raked the fingertips of her other hand across his pubic hair and slid her palm down to caress the sac underneath, gently kneading and squeezing it. Kane’s fingers wound into her hair, following the bobbing motion of her head. With each passing moment, Darelle felt something inside her unleash. All the things her mother had told her about the dirty sex act between men and women fell away. This was beautiful and sweet, pleasuring a man she loved. She dipped her mouth deeper along his length, as far down as she could. He gasped. She made a suction with her lips, sliding back up to the head and down again in fluid motions. To her surprise, Kane pulled her up, off him. One large hand splayed on her back, pulling her closer to him between his powerful legs before sliding to her front and

64

Darelle’s Trinity

feeling her breasts, first one then the other. His gaze locked on the creamy swells, his fingertips sliding over each nipple. With his other hand, he stroked himself until his seed spurted out, covering her breasts. He moaned as the fluid emptied out onto Darelle’s skin and he sat back, breathing heavily. He reached out and pulled Darelle against him, entwining one hand into her hair. “Thank you, my lady,” he breathed against her skin. Darelle closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his chest. She embraced him and rested in his arms. When he released her, she turned to Gareth, nearly gasping at the passion burning in the brown depths of his eyes. He reached for her and gently pulled her through the water until the front of her body pressed against him, his erection pressing against her mound. She returned his embrace, pressing her lips to his muscular chest. The softness of his dark chest hair tickled her lips. He stroked her hair and her back, his fingertips smoothing over her hips and the swell of each buttock. In one movement he pulled back slightly and put his fingertips under her chin, tilting her head back. The wild possession of his movements made her completely weak and she sagged against the strong arm that held her up in the water. He pressed his lips to her forehead, sending heat trilling through her body. Then he began a slow trail of hot kisses down her temple and cheek, finally claiming her lips, closing his lips hotly over them. His tongue slipped tenderly yet urgently between her lips, tasting each soft recess of her mouth before taking hold of her tongue with his lips, suckling on it in imitation of the sex act itself. Darelle splayed her hands on his chest, squeezing the muscles, lost in the kiss. She felt herself being moved through the water and a second pair of hands lifted her up, supporting her on strong thighs. Gareth pulled away from their kiss, leaving her breathlessly staring up at him. His dark eyes were velvety as he stared down at her. He reached out, cupping her breasts in his large hands. He rose on his knees on the seat inside the pool and put his erection between her breasts, squeezing them gently together around the shaft. He stroked back and forth, holding her breasts while Kane support her weight with large hands splayed on her back. Darelle cried out softly with the pleasure of Gareth’s cock sliding against her skin, his fingertips brushing her nipples. His movements thrust harder and faster and until, for a second time, milky seed spilled out on her skin, coating her breasts in heavy droplets. Gareth fell back in the water and came up again, capturing her as Kane released her from his lap. Both men held her between them in the water, splashing bathwater over her skin, washing her clean. Behind them, Colette’s laughter tinkled gaily through the echoey bath chamber. “Ah,” she said, “finally you use the bath for what it is meant to be.” 65

Sedonia Guillone

Gareth smiled lazily, more relaxed than Darelle had ever seen him in their short time of knowing each other. Behind her, Kane chuckled, his hand smoothing rose-scented water over her shoulders and down her back. “What do you think, Darelle?” Darelle turned slowly in the water, her body delightfully weak. “I cannot imagine anything more wonderful,” she said softly. Kane laughed. “If you enjoyed that, my lady, just you wait. I’ve yet to fulfill my promise to you about the honey.” “Patience, my lord,” Colette said from her place at the side of the pool. “We must give Darelle a chance to meet her followers first.” She whispered in Michael’s ear, her message obvious from the way he disentangled her from his embrace and left the room with a courteous greeting, keeping his back respectfully turned to Darelle. When he was gone, Colette picked up a clean towel and held out her hand to Darelle. “It is time to dry off and change for your banquet, chérie.” Wordlessly, Darelle reached out and grasped Colette’s hand. Her body was gently hoisted from behind by two pairs of strong masculine hands and in the next second, she found herself on her feet at the edge of the pool, with Colette enfolding her wet body in a large, soft piece of linen toweling. Behind her, she heard the water splashing and dripping as Kane and Gareth climbed out of the pool and grabbed towels off the clean pile awaiting them on the bench. Darelle stood, mesmerized, watching her guardians swab the towels over their muscular bodies. Kane caught her eye and winked as he grasped the ends of his toweling and wiped it in a sawing motion across the length of his back. His shoulder and arm muscles flexed with each movement. Gareth rapidly swabbed his own body dry and came to stand in front of her. “Let me dry you, my lady,” he said softly. She let him take the towel off her and wipe it gently over her arms and back. Her eyelids fluttered closed under the sensual rasp of the towel against her bare skin. The tender strength of Gareth’s hands came through the way he ran the toweling over her, with gentle, yet firm and caring pressure. Kane approached them and Gareth handed him the toweling so he could finish drying her front, quietly and tenderly wiping the toweling over her breasts. The soft cloth brushed her nipples, causing them to tighten again. She stared up into Kane’s eyes, the warm chocolate depths looking back at her with his tantalizing blend of desire and mischief. “There you go, my lady,” he said, his voice still tight with desire. From the corner of her eye, she saw him harden again, his member beginning to swell and rise. Her nipples tingled and the swirling started up again between her thighs. Colette’s chuckle broke the spell and she covered Darelle with a silky wrap that she tied with an equally silken belt. “Tomorrow night is your joining. You will experience more pleasure than you ever imagined possible, chérie. But for now, I must brush out 66

Darelle’s Trinity

this glorious mass of curls you possess and find the perfect gown for your banquet.” She threw an amused glance at Gareth and Kane who had both wrapped their toweling around their hips. “They can dress themselves, isn’t that right, gentlemen?” “We’ve been doing it for centuries,” Kane said, falling into step beside Gareth as they followed Colette and Darelle into the bedroom. Off to one side of the large room was an alcove, adorned with potted ferns and a large gilt dressing table and mirror. The little seat in front of the vanity had a velvet cushion to which Colette directed Darelle to sit, facing the mirror while she picked up a mother-of-pearl comb and began to work it though Darelle’s hair with a gentle touch. Darelle regarded her reflection, her father’s stories about the undead echoing suddenly in her mind. “I can see my reflection,” she said softly. “My father once told me that vampires could not see their reflection in a glass.” Colette smiled. “As you are learning, chérie, you are of a different order of vampire.” In the adjoining bedchamber, Darelle could hear her guardians opening heavy drawers and moving about the room. Their bootsteps sounded on the stone floor and they reappeared in moments, each dressed in matching white tunics embroidered with gold trim and dark trousers tucked into their boots. They stood close behind her, their protectiveness enfolding her like a physical force. Her wrap had fallen slightly open and she saw Kane’s and Gareth’s gazes reflected in the mirror, as they traveled over her bare skin. She remembered their touch in her most intimate places and the feel of the hard shafts in her mouth and between her breasts. The memory both stirred her desire and gave rise once again to her lifelong habit of guilt and shame, especially when she had felt such strong desire for Lascaux to possess her. “Darelle, ma chérie, something troubles you.” Colette spoke gently as she smoothed the hairbrush through Darelle’s honey mass of curls. Darelle met Colette’s sparkling blue eyes in the jeweled mirror. The opulence of her new surroundings did not distract her from the torment of guilt that Lascaux’s pleas had churned up in her heart. Behind her, Kane and Gareth stood, two solid pillars of man, columns of strength, their arms folded across their chests, their gazes intent on her. Sensual awareness rippled through her body, heightened now by the reality of experience. Until Lascaux had attacked them in the barn, Darelle’s heart and mind had clearly delineated good and evil, love and hate. But the desperation in Lascaux’s voice and the way he’d lost her a second time to her guardians had blurred the concepts for her, threatening to make a blatant lie of everything her maman had taught her about sin and virtue. She nodded, a slight, shy movement she hoped her guardians wouldn’t see. Colette’s gaze flickered to Kane and Gareth. “Gentlemen, I believe Darelle needs a private moment for a woman’s counsel.” “We are not to leave the room,” Gareth said. 67

Sedonia Guillone

Colette shook her head. “What did you call it when she was in here while you dressed?” She gave a reassuring smile. “I know you will worry about what troubles Darelle, my lords, but I assure you, we will work everything out. S’il vous plait.” Gareth’s brow furrowed with obvious concern, but he nodded silently and motioned for Kane to follow him into the next room. As soon as the beaded curtain dropped back into place with its gentle cascade of sound, Colette set the hairbrush down on the vanity and knelt in front of Darelle, taking her hands. A tender smile curved her dusky lips. “In all my centuries of life, chérie, I’ve never seen a face so easy to read. Your thoughts and emotions are clearly reflected as on the surface of a calm lake.” To her shame, Darelle couldn’t suppress the sudden rush of hot tears. Her hands lay folded in her lap under Colette’s hands and she looked down at their joined hands, blinking salty droplets from her eyes. “Whatever it is, chérie, I promise you there is nothing so horrible it cannot be discussed. Believe me, after nearly nine hundred years on this earth, I have learned that much.” She reached up and smoothed Darelle’s hair back, off her face. “I can promise you something else,” she added softly. “What is that?” Darelle whispered. Colette smiled again. “I can promise you that your guardians have learned the same lesson.” Her gaze moved over Darelle’s face, a light of understanding passing across her soft, beautiful features. “Ah, I see.” Darelle’s heart thumped and she shook. “You do?” Colette nodded. “Tell me, chérie, if you feel you can, what happened that made this confusion inside you?” Darelle caught her breath and her heart pumped harder, reminding her that she had been mortal only a mere few days ago. She looked into Colette’s eyes, willing herself to entrust this shameful confession to Colette. She drew in a breath and told Colette what had happened in the barn with Lascaux and how she felt about it. She did not, however, feel ready to tell Colette the shameful effect that Lascaux had had on her in the year leading up to his bringing her across. Colette listened quietly, her hands never leaving Darelle’s hands. Her gentleness was such a contrast to the way her mother had been with her that it made her heart ache, even as she spoke. She finished her story and fell silent, waiting for Colette’s response. The other woman chuckled softly and squeezed Darelle’s hands. “I understand, chérie,” she said gently. “You believe that because you felt sympathy for him that perhaps you don’t love your guardians, n’est-ce pas?” Darelle nodded. Colette smiled. “This simply isn’t true.” She shook her head. “You’ve probably discovered even in this short time of being immortal, that vampires, just like mortals,

68

Darelle’s Trinity

are complex. No one is completely good or completely evil. Dark and light exist together in one heart, even in Lascaux’s, as much as he has tried to deny what humanity clings to him. Of course, I cannot speak for what is going on inside him, but I have known your guardians for centuries and they are honorable, good men who will love you and accept you with all your confusion. You will learn to do the same with them, and with yourself.” She patted Darelle’s hand. “I know that what I’m saying cannot possibly make complete sense to you at this time, but it will.” She winked. “Just enjoy your guardians and what they have to teach you. Don’t try to understand all at once.” Darelle listened to her, wide-eyed. She hadn’t expected Colette’s answer at all, and although she didn’t understand most of it, felt somewhat relieved. She could not, however, imagine Kane and Gareth accepting her if they knew the deep desires of submission that she had discovered inside herself because of Lascaux. Some things just seemed much too shameful to give voice to. She nodded. “Merci, Colette. Your words have helped me.” Colette smiled. “Bien. Now we must finish preparing you for your banquet. We are very nearly late.” She ran the brush through Darelle’s hair a few more times and had finally tamed it into a silken nest of curls. She set down the brush and held out her hand. “Come, I will show you your fine collection of gowns you now own to choose from. Perhaps a white silk with gold embroidery, to match your guardians?” She led Darelle into the main part of the bedchamber. Kane and Gareth stood, waiting for Darelle. Both pairs of dark eyes fell on her with affection and concern, making her cheeks flush warmly. “Oui,” Colette said with laughter in her voice, “I recommend the white and gold. What a beautiful threesome you will make.”

69

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Seven “Call her now.” Cairn glared at Lascaux from underneath his hood. Lascaux returned the baleful look. The coward had his crucifix to protect him. Without it, he’d already have been dead and he knew it. “Absolutely not.” Cairn’s lips curled upward into an evil grin. “Very well.” He stepped over one of the chains shackling Lascaux’s legs and stood behind him. He pushed the gold crucifix he carried into Lascaux’s bare back. Lascaux grimaced, biting back the searing pain as the object singed his skin. He screwed his eyes shut, straining against the iron shackles on his wrists and ankles that had him spread-eagled, suspended between the stone walls of the small chamber. The Soldiers had chained him and surrounded him with crucifixes in his own catacomb. “Perhaps now you’ll change your mind.” Lascaux dove mentally into his own psyche, sealing off his connection to Darelle so that she would not feel him as she always had. He knew only too well that if she knew what was happening to him, she would come to his aid, along with her guardians. The Coeurs Éternels could not refuse any being who suffered, not even him. Darelle would come to his aid and end up being killed. Valmont, where the hell are you? Serge’s voice rose in their mind link, his tone near hysteria. Damn. Serge was in danger as well. In that moment, Lascaux felt his love for Serge in its full force, something he never had allowed in all their time together. The thought of Serge meeting the same fate as Viola sickened him. Serge, get the hell away from me, he answered psychically, hoping that if he angered and hurt Serge enough, Serge would leave. What are you saying? I’ve gone all the way to Paris looking for you. Serge sounded confused. The tone sliced through Lascaux’s conscience. Serge obviously had no idea what was happening. Stay in Paris, goddammit. I don’t want you anymore, ever. Lascaux stared at the gold crosses, threatening to burn his skin again. And again. Serge, do you understand me? I understand you, you piece of shit bastard. Lascaux blocked off his mind link to Serge, giving the same message to all his protégés, at least the ones whom the Soldiers hadn’t already slain. “Call her, dammit!” Lascaux stared at him. “Never. You’ll rot in your grave waiting.”

70

Darelle’s Trinity

Cairn laughed, that throaty, arrogant guffaw that made Lascaux grit his teeth. “How noble you are all of a sudden, Minhotep, protecting a protégé at the cost of your own skin.” “I know what I am,” Lascaux muttered, forcing himself to ignore the pain in his back. Smoke from his burnt flesh curled in the dank air around him. Were it not for the crucifixes strung about the room, draining him of his powers, he would have already pulled the chains from the walls and turned on his captors, draining them of their lifeblood. Such a feeding, he decided, would be the most satisfying in all his centuries of existence. “But in spite of that, I will never lead you to her.” Cairn crossed back over the chain to face him. “Don’t think we won’t find her without your help.” Liars. Lascaux had heard mortals speak with forked tongues for too many centuries not to know a lie when he heard one. If this were true, the Soldiers would have already found Darelle and killed her. They would not go to the trouble of torturing him. They would simply have killed him in the barn. No. Even if they found Darelle, they couldn’t touch her. The Coeurs Éternels lived outside the laws that governed all the other strains of vampires. They needed her to feed on Lascaux, imbibe his essence and then stake her. His eye fell on the wooden stake hanging on Cairn’s belt and decided to call the bastard’s bluff. “If that is the case, then kill me now. You have your weapon. Run it through my heart. I can be killed like any other vampire.” Cairn stared at him from under his hood, seeming momentarily at a loss for words. His dark eyes faltered and then gleamed in the torchlight. “Why kill you when it is so much more fun to torture you?” Lascaux’s point proven, he sneered. The flesh on his back had already healed from the burn. No doubt, his captors would repeat the burning process many times over in the centuries to come, as long as he didn’t give them Darelle. “You and your offspring for generations to come will die without getting what you want from me.” Another wicked grin curled the robed man’s lips. He lifted the crucifix, pressing it into Lascaux’s chest. Lascaux ground his jaws as the gold object burned his skin like a red-hot brand. The smoke rose from the connection of gold to flesh. “Call her,” Cairn ordered. “Go to hell.” Cairn chuckled. “See that window?” He pointed to the tiny opening in the wall just below the ceiling. A small barred window, the only one in the entire catacombs of the château. Of course Lascaux knew that window. He knew every stone and every crack in every stone of his entire château. He remained spitefully silent.

71

Sedonia Guillone

“Dawn rises right through that window, and you’ll be here to greet it. Beautiful, warm sunlight. How nice for you.” Merde. Crucifixes by night. Sunlight exposure by day. They would torture him until he brought them Darelle. Which he would never, ever do. Why was he so determined to protect the girl? Why did he love her more than he did his own life? He didn’t know, but of course, there had always been mysteries that had no answers. That was the way it had always been, as unanswerable questions as why vampires existed. Just like this. “I’ll be able to roast a pig from the heat off your burning flesh,” Cairn said. Lascaux looked at him. “Go to hell.” Cairn stopped laughing, bared his teeth and pushed the crucifix into Lascaux’s right cheek. Lascaux gritted his teeth against the pain, his entire body jerking and straining against his shackles. But he remained silent. Valmont. Serge’s voice reached him psychically through his torment. Go away, Sergei! No. You’re lying to me. Something’s wrong. I’m going to come back from Paris. Don’t you dare! Lascaux tried to block off his mind link, but Serge was too strong for him, his love for his sire preventing further blockage. Don’t you dare come back! If you want to help me you will do as I say. Go at once to Le Coeur. Le Coeur? But they are— I know what they are. You must go there at once and tell them I have been killed. If you wish me to survive, you will do as I say. Allez! Serge made a sound, a growl, feral and primal. I’m returning after that. Nothing you can say will prevent me. Sergei… Lascaux noticed he’d slipped into using Serge’s previous Russian name, his form of affection for his lover. Don’t try to come into the château. Whatever you do. Valmont…what the hell is happening? Lascaux didn’t answer, lest he say something that would convince Serge to defy him again, which he would. His love for Lascaux was nearly as strong as the love for Darelle that would keep Lascaux chained to these walls for God only knew how long. Anyway, Lascaux knew that his energy was better spent bracing himself against the burning pain of the crucifix, which, fortunately, Cairn had temporarily withdrawn. He sighed and let his body go limp. Closing his eyes, he let exhaustion overtake him and slept, a shallow, unrestful sleep, but better than nothing. He needed every ounce of his strength to keep these bastards away from Darelle.

***** 72

Darelle’s Trinity

Darelle’s gaze locked with those of her guardians. However, before any of them could speak, Colette slipped Darelle’s robe off her shoulders, leaving Darelle nude in front of Gareth and Kane. She felt their eyes rove over her bare flesh, as palpably as if their hands touched her, whispering over her breasts, down her belly, fingertips raking lightly through her pubic curls. “As usual, you leave them speechless, chérie,” Colette said, her hands gently lifting Darelle’s hair, checking it for tangles. Gareth cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Darelle. Are you all right?” She nodded, moved by the captivating blend of concern and passion smoldering in his dark eyes. Again, a wave of horrible guilt assailed her that she should have the worries she did in the face of such devotion. Gareth came forward and took her hand, brushing his thumb across the mixture of soft flesh and calluses of her palm. She had always worked hard and now felt embarrassed at the roughness of her hands. But her guardian didn’t seem to notice. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Whatever troubles you, my lady,” he said softly, “I promise you we will overcome it, the three of us.” “Of course we will,” Kane’s voice echoed. He had stepped in closer and picked up her other hand. Darelle trembled, overwhelmed by the show of love and affection. “Thank you, my lords,” she whispered. “All right,” Colette interrupted, mock sternness in her tone, “step back so I can dress her.” With obvious reluctance, Gareth and Kane took a couple of steps away to allow Colette to drop the filmy soft chainse over Darelle’s body, covering her and then took Darelle by the shoulders, turning her away from her guardians in order to tie the bow at the base of her throat. Kane groaned. “If I had my way, Darelle would walk around naked all the time.” Colette chuckled. She turned and went to the armoire, opening the heavy carved doors. “If you had your way, my lord, women’s clothing would not have been invented.” Kane grinned. “You are making me out to be a scoundrel, Colette. What will Darelle think of me?” Colette returned, holding a beautiful white gown in her hands. “You know I only tease you, my lord. Darelle will know before long how loyal and devoted you will be to her.” Warmth flushed through Darelle’s body at Colette’s words. Indeed, she had already been treated to many of examples of Kane’s finest qualities. She giggled and looked at him, the heat increasing when he winked at her.

73

Sedonia Guillone

He stood next to his brother, who caught Darelle’s eye. Gareth had not joined in the mirth but stood, watching her with that same mixture of passion and concern simmering in his eyes. Her heart skipped and she turned her attention to the dress that Colette was holding open for her. She stepped into the bliaut, slipping her hands through the armholes. Colette pulled the gown up over her shoulder and tied up the laces in the back. When she’d finished, she picked up Darelle’s hand and led her to a full-length lookingglass. “What do you think chérie?” Darelle caught her breath, staring at her reflection. The elegant bliaut of white silk clung to her curves. The gold embroidery around the neckline and flared maunches to gleam in the torchlight, as it did off her guardians’ tunics. The young woman who stared back at her in the looking glass looked like a high-born chatelaine, not a peasant girl who pressed wine grapes with her bare feet and milked goats. “That can’t be me,” she breathed. Colette squeezed her hand affectionately. “Believe it, chérie. You are the priestess now of the Coeurs Éternels. And you could not more look the part.” “Shhh!” Gareth hissed suddenly, holding his hand up. Darelle froze, not daring to turn her head. Kane immediately stood at attention. “What is it?” he asked in a low voice. Darelle watched Gareth’s reflection in the looking glass. His features had darkened, his brow furrowed as he strained, listening to something she couldn’t hear. He turned slowly, looking all around, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger, hanging from his belt. “I feel something.” His voice was low, tight with a deep warning as he moved in closer to Darelle. Kane followed his lead and stepped protectively closer to her as well. After several moments, Gareth shook his head. “It’s gone now.” “Was it Lascaux?” Kane asked. Gareth looked at Darelle. “If it had been, Darelle would know. Was it he?” Darelle’s heart was crashing around in her chest, her breath rising and falling heavily. She took a deep breath and looked inside for Lascaux’s connection, but he wasn’t there. In fact, he seemed completely absent, as if there had never been any connection between them at all, as if her soul had been scraped clean of any residue of Lascaux’s presence inside her. She shook her head. “Non,” she said softly. “He’s…gone.” “Then what was it?” Colette’s voice cut through the ensuing quiet. The twinkle of humor had left her blue eyes. Gareth shook his head. “I don’t know for certain, but it was something…evil.” “Something that hates vampires,” Kane added.

74

Darelle’s Trinity

Darelle’s, Gareth’s and Colette’s gazes snapped to him at once. “How do you know that?” Gareth said. Kane looked at him. “Because I felt it too, for a moment.” Gareth clasped his hand on Darelle’s shoulder. “Come now,” he said with urgency in his voice. “We must have our joining at the banquet. I will not wait until tomorrow.” Colette nodded. “You are right, my lord.” She lifted Darelle’s hand, which she still held and ushered Darelle toward the door, Kane and Gareth on their heels. “It is time to meet the others and to join with your guardians.”

75

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Eight Join. The word echoed through Darelle’s consciousness, repeating with each step she took. Colette led her into the torch-lit corridor and turned her in the direction of the great hall. The erotic mosaics on the walls, gleaming in the shadowy light, only served to heighten the sound of the word repeating in her mind, as did her vivid awareness of Gareth and Kane close behind her. Unbidden, she thought of the large, bedlike couch in the great hall, the one covered in a multitude of silken pillows, inviting lovers’ bodies to entwine in carnal pleasure. Understanding sifted deeper into her consciousness. This couch was to be the place of her sexual union with her guardians. The arrangement of smaller couches in front of hers was for the other Coeurs Éternels, who would witness the act of lovemaking between her and the two vampires sworn to love and protect her for eternity. The knowledge jolted her senses to vibrant awareness. Every sound, including the crackling of the flames in the torch sconces and the footfalls of her slippered feet on the stone floor, crashed in her ears, along with the pounding of her heart. The woodsy, seductive aroma of sandalwood filled the entire corridor, heightening the arousal building in her loins, which now pulsed and tingled wildly, making her entire body ache to be filled with man. “I will present you to the others,” Colette said in an instructive tone as they walked. “You will bow to them and say, ‘I am here to serve you.’ Each one of them will bow to you in turn and ask for your blessing.” Darelle caught her breath. “My blessing? But such an honor as that must come only from the saints!” Colette patted her arm. The gesture was reassuring in a maternal way, the way she would always have liked her mother to comfort her. “Ne t’en fais pas, chérie. You are neither saint nor sinner. Release these ideas. You are here to love these beings and to release mortals from their suffering when you can.” She squeezed Darelle’s hand. “Now to bless them, you simply place your hand on the head when they bow to you. Just one loving touch from you will serve as a blessing. As I said, do not worry. You will feel the love come through you very naturally. When you are finished, your guardians will lead you to the couch for the ceremony of the cup and then, of course, for your joining.” She smiled and winked. “They will be happy to guide you through both.” Joining. That word again and all the things it meant. More flutters of heat coursed through her body. The soft linen chainse under her gown brushed her nipples, causing them to tingle more fiercely with each passing second that the entrance to the great hall came into view.

76

Darelle’s Trinity

With a hand on the sleeve of her gown, Colette brought them to a halt in the arched doorway. Soft music played from within the depths of the expansive room, stringed and flute instruments sending seductive notes wafting through the incense-filled air. Colette’s blue eyes were gentle even as they sparkled at her. “Are you ready, chérie? Your followers await.” Darelle stared ahead of her at the large room full of men and women, the silk gowns and embroidered tunics they wore glowing in the gentle torchlight. Slowly, she nodded. “Very well. Come.” With a gentle nudge from Colette at her side, Darelle stepped into the room, catching her breath at the crowd of people rising respectfully in unison from the couches, all regarding her with a mixture of reverence and curiosity. Colette brought her to a standstill in front of the crowd, in the spacious area just in front of the couches arrayed in the center. She raised their joined hands. “Brothers and sisters, I present to you Darelle Mimieux, your priestess, the leader we have waited for for so very long.” She lowered their hands and released her, stepping aside. “Go ahead, chérie.” Darelle gaped at the assembled crowd of people and for moments, silence reigned as they gazed at her in return. There were so many of them! How many, she couldn’t tell. Men in tunics and trousers and women in a colorful assortment of silk bliauts. The ages of the people ranged from a bit younger than herself to the age of her guardians, or perhaps a few years older. Their skin tones ranged from very pale to dark. She scanned the faces whose skin glowed in the torchlight. Each man was handsome and all the women were beautiful. Somehow, she understood intuitively that these people had all been brought across by vampires drawn to their earthly beauty as had Lascaux to hers. She bowed to them and repeated the greeting Colette had instructed her to say. No sooner had she spoken, than a ripple of excitement passed through the crowd, which quickly began to arrange itself in a single line to pass in front of her to ask her blessing. Darelle glanced at Colette as they approached her. “How will I remember all their names?” “Do not worry, chérie. You will have plenty of time to get to know them. You begin the blessings with me and your guardians.” She stood before Darelle and curtsied to her, remaining knelt down until Darelle touched her. At the contact of her fingertips with Colette’s soft hair, a wave of affectionate warmth passed through her and she understood immediately what Colette had meant about feeling the love pass through her naturally. After Colette had risen, smiled at her and moved aside, Gareth took his place in front of her. That dark smoldering in his eyes burned hotter than she’d seen it before and her heart thumped. Without speaking, he knelt before her, his head bowed.

77

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle reached out and placed her hand on his head. His short dark hair was soft under her fingertips and she felt her heart ache with tenderness for him. She sensed the affection pass between them, deeper than she could ever express with words and then he lifted his gaze to her and stood up, moving aside so that Kane could take his place in front of her. Of course, Kane gave her his customary grin. However, in the next moment, his mischievous expression faded and his chiseled features softened. The torchlight glowed in his dark eyes and the love in them was obvious. He bowed his head and knelt down, waiting for her blessing. Darelle smiled and placed her hand on his head, feeling the same ache she had a moment before for Gareth. After his blessing, Kane rose respectfully, turning to make room for the procession of followers obviously eager to receive their blessings from Darelle. Michael was the first in the line. A wave of shyness passed over her as he approached her. Her cheeks burned from the memory of having watched Colette pleasuring him with her mouth just a short time ago, but thankfully, the image faded as he bowed his head reverently and kneeled before her. Darelle placed her hand on his golden hair, which brushed her fingertips in a way that reminded her of the lush sensuality of this place and of the pleasures she’d known in only a few short hours within its walls. Her blessing done, Michael rose and made way for the next in line, a young man with light brown hair who came to stand in front of her. He bowed and knelt eagerly, his reverential movements making Darelle feel unworthy of the veneration with which they were all treating her. Perhaps if they knew her humble origins, they would wonder about having her for their priestess. However, they looked to her now, and she was determined not to disappoint them. The music ceased during the procession so that the musicians, too, could receive their blessings. Those who were guarding the various secret entrances to Le Coeur also came for their blessings before going back to their posts. The entire process took at least an hour, and finally, the last woman in the line rose from receiving her blessing and retreated to the couches where all the others had gone to wait for the next portion of the ceremony. The woman sat next to a man who put his arms around her as she sank into the cushions next to him. Everyone there seemed to be paired off in couples or small groups, some mixtures of men and women, others, all men or all women. The sensuality Darelle had felt upon first entering this room hours ago now simmered. Her mind and body swirled pleasantly as the music resumed its provocative strains, the melody curling and winding like strands of silk, blending with the wisps of incense filling the air. Darelle’s body tightened and pulsed in the parts of her that had remained hidden so long and were about to be revealed. The arousal betrayed her fatigue from the day’s journey, the intensity of her first exploration with her guardians

78

Darelle’s Trinity

and having stood for so long to give blessings to the followers. When Gareth and Kane took her hands and led her to their couch, she wanted nothing more than to feel their hard masculine bodies against hers, surrounding her and filling her. As she took her seat on the cushions—soft, red velvet pillows—she caught a glance of Colette, settled comfortably on a nearby couch with Michael, nestled in his arms. Colette winked at her and smiled, her blue eyes glittering as she picked up Michael’s large hand and nuzzled it against her lips. The simple movement stirred Darelle’s longings, stoking them like a growing fire. Gareth and Kane settled on either side of her, their weight sinking the cushions down, causing them to press in on either side of her while two young men carried a small table, setting it down in front of them. Two silver goblets sat on the mosaic-tiled surface and immediately, Darelle smelled the coppery scent of blood and the richly sweet aroma of honey that wafted from the cups, both stirring hunger deep within her. Kane smiled at her, draping his arm across her shoulders. Instinctively, she pressed in closer to him, allowing the heat of his strength to simmer right through her gown. Her nipples tightened against the linen chainse and she forced herself not to let her head tilt back, her lips parted, right then and there, begging for a kiss from her guardian. Gareth held up his hand, silencing the musicians. “Brothers and sisters,” he began, his deep smooth voice echoing through the large room, “I have something very important to tell you before we continue.” All eyes fixed on him. Darelle looked at his chiseled profile. He emanated strength and leadership, and she understood in that moment that even though she was the priestess, Gareth was their leader, with Kane close at his side. She felt a hand on her lower back, surreptitiously toying with the laces of her bliaut. Glancing at Kane, she saw his lips quirking at the edges, trying not to grin as he pulled the laces open. Her heart beat a light pulse in her chest as she put her attention back onto Gareth. “This joyous occasion is marred by the arrival of something in our midst…something that…wishes us harm.” Heads turned and many pairs of frightened eyes surveyed the shadowy room. “No among us here,” Gareth amended quickly. “I cannot say exactly what or who it is at this time. The Soldiers, perhaps, although they are relatively young and have never posed a serious threat.” The assembly of Coeurs Éternels stirred, fearful murmurings rippling through the room. “I’m not telling you this to instill fear in you, although caution is most important. We have always been a secret sect and need to remain as such, known only to our fellow undead. They, however, guard our secret well, as their own existence also depends on us.” Kane’s hand stopped playing with her laces and rested against the small of Darelle’s back. 79

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle felt bolstered and protected by his touch. Gareth held up his hand again and the voices faded into silence. “This is why we have a priestess and why, when she makes a union with Kane and myself, that we are protected, that the forces of good and evil that plague the physical world are balanced. Therefore, we must have the joining this night after the ceremony of the cup, instead of the morrow as we were meant to.” A soft breath hitched in Darelle’s throat. Kane’s hand slid from her back around her waist as he pulled her against him, holding her as protective as a she-wolf with her pup. “Don’t fear, Darelle,” Kane said softly, his warm breath tickling her ear. “We will never let anyone harm you.” Gareth leaned over and picked up the goblet containing the blood. Cupping it in both hands, he held it out to Darelle. “We have already fed together once,” he announced. “The blood of a woman brought down by la peste mingled in our three bodies. But here, with our brothers and sisters to witness, we will again share. You sip first, my lady.” He uttered the last instruction softly, audible only to Darelle and Kane. Gareth held the cup to her lips, tilting it enough for a mouthful of the coppery scarlet liquid to slide over her tongue and down her throat. The scent and taste of the blood aroused her hunger for more and she covered Gareth’s hands with hers, bidding him to tilt the cup again so she could sip more deeply. Gareth, however, was stronger than she and gently wrested the cup from her and offered the next sip to Kane before taking the last for himself. He set the cup down and turned to her, his dark eyes velvety. “Now, my lady,” he said in a husky tone, “we complete our union.”

80

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter Nine The arousal touched off by her drink of blood shot up to a pure rush of adrenaline. Heat swirled in her sex and tingled in her nipples. She swallowed hard, half throbbing with desire and half terrified at this plunge into womanhood she was about to take with both her guardians at once. Gareth cupped her cheeks and gazed down at her, his dark eyes glazed with desire. He leaned in to her and pressed his lips to hers, softly at first, then harder, seeking to part her lips with the tip of his warm moist tongue. She tilted her head back, surrendering to his kiss. Her eyelids fluttered closed as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her teeth and the soft recesses around her tongue with mounting urgency. Behind her, she felt Kane’s fingers nimbly finishing the unlacing of her bliaut he’d begun during Gareth’s speech. The dress opened wide and he slipped it down, off her shoulders, his warm hands skimming her back over the thin material of her chainse. Under the gazes of the crowded room, Kane rose from the couch and slipped Darelle’s bliaut off down her legs, discarding it absently on the floor. His own gaze was trained on her with the sheen of desire and he slipped his hands under the chainse, skating his fingertips lightly over her calves and upward on the insides of her thighs, close to her sex from which the moisture of arousal now seeped. Gareth deepened his kisses on her mouth, laying her back gently against the piles of velvet and damask cushions. The fingers of one large hand laced through her curls while the other slipped over her breast, his fingertips pinching her nipple into aroused hardness through the filmy material of the chainse. The beating of Darelle’s heart crashed in her ears. All thoughts and fears eased from her mind in a heady swirl of pleasure. To her surprise, she found that being watched and the murmurs of arousal rising from her audience only heightened her enjoyment. Gareth lifted his face from her kiss and Darelle opened her eyes. He was looking down at her, his face flushed, a possessive look of hunger darkening his features. He reached up and lifted off his tunic, tossing it aside. The muscles of his body flexed and quivered as he continued to watch her. The torchlight gleamed off his skin, etching shadows on the ridges and cords of muscle, and glinted off the dusting of dark hair over his chest. The sight of his bare torso sent ripples of heat into her sex and Darelle arched her pelvis upward instinctively, wanting nothing but his strong body between her legs. She glanced up at Kane and saw that he, too, was pulling off his boots, tunic and trousers, the same glaze of heated lust darkening his eyes and chiseled face. When he was naked, his warrior’s body gleaming, his shaft fully hardened, springing thick and veined from its nest of dark hair, he climbed onto the couch and bade Darelle to sit up. 81

Sedonia Guillone

As soon as she did, Gareth pulled open the lace of her chainse, which slipped off, whispering over her skin, exposing her entire body. Kane sat back against the cushions, cross-legged, gently pulling Darelle onto his lap so that she lay with her back nestled in the folds of his powerful legs. He reached over her front and caressed her breasts, his palms skimming in light circles over the swollen orbs and hard pink tips. She moaned softly, feeling Kane’s erection pressed into her back. With gentle hands on her knees, Gareth parted Darelle’s legs, spreading them wide apart. He gazed down on her now-open sex, a soft groan escaping his throat. “Darelle,” he whispered and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on her inner thigh. The touch of his lips was like a soft feather, tickling the sensitive skin in the most delicious way. Shivers of delight erupted in the spot he kissed her, radiating upward into her core. He pressed his lips more firmly onto her skin and began a trail of moist, warm kisses along her thigh, closer and closer to the center of her heat. The tiny nub of flesh in the center pulsed and her breathing grew increasingly heavier. Kane was lightly squeezing and kneading both her breasts while Gareth ended his trail of kisses at the apex of her thighs. With gentle thumbs, he spread her lower lips wide open and brought his mouth to her inner sex. His hot breath passed over the slickly aroused swollen part of her that now ached for release. He teased her with a playful swipe of his tongue along her open slit, swiveling the tip over the hard nubbin. Darelle cried out in her pleasure, writhing her hips in an attempt to increase the pressure of his tongue against her, but the more she bucked her hips, the more he teased her. Until now, Gareth had not shown a playful side to his character, but now, a wicked grin, not unlike Kane’s, curved his lips as he taunted her with the evasive wet heat of his tongue that she so craved on her sex. “Hold still, my lady,” Kane purred in her ear, linking his arms under hers and holding her gently but firmly so that Gareth’s delightful torture was increased. “Please,” she begged in a breathless voice, “I beg you.” Gareth lifted his face from between her thighs. A bit of her cream glistened on his lips. “What do you beg for, my lady?” “Take me, please, both of you.” Gareth’s grin widened and he reached down to toy with her sex, pushing a large finger gently into her slick opening and pulsing it in and out. He chuckled when she moaned, her head thrashing back and forth against Kane’s thighs. “All in good time, my love,” he said in a husky voice. Kane leaned over her and kissed her mouth, his lips upside down to hers. He slipped his tongue between her lips and tasted her deeply, suckling her tongue, simulating the sex act with their mouths. Down below, she felt Gareth’s mouth return to her aching, swollen sex. He had slipped two fingers inside her now, moving them in and out, making her accustomed to the sensation of being filled. He pulsed his fingers in her sheath and laved her clitoris with his tongue at the same time. 82

Darelle’s Trinity

Darelle moaned loudly as a wave of pleasure began to build inside her womb. She recognized the sensations that always preceded her release and knew that a blissful explosion would rock her entire body very soon. Mindless with pleasure, she closed her eyes, allowing the feel of Kane’s tongue filling her mouth and Gareth’s fingers filling her sheath. However, just as her orgasm was about to erupt, Gareth withdrew his fingers and lifted his mouth from her sex, causing Darelle to gasp. Kane pulled away from their kiss and chuckled, even though his chest heaved from arousal and his erection pressed relentlessly into her back. Gareth smiled and lowered his body on top of hers, nesting his hips between her legs, the head of his cock pressing against her open slit. He leaned down and captured her mouth in a wildly hot kiss, dancing his tongue feverishly with hers while guiding his shaft to her opening with one hand. Darelle put her arms around Gareth, encircling his muscular torso. The back of her head pressed against Kane’s stomach and she could feel his fingertips skating lightly over her shoulders and up into her hair while Gareth eased his cock, bit by bit more deeply inside her. He slid easily into her swollen sheath. When he came up against her maidenhead, he lifted his mouth from their kiss and gazed down at her. “Look at me, Darelle,” he whispered, trapping her gaze in his. Breathless, Darelle stared into his eyes, captivated by the warm glowing chocolate depths. He thrust once, hard and she felt him tear through. The pain was brief, a sting deep inside her, but then he reached down and rubbed her clitoris in tiny circles, drowning out the discomfort with intense pleasure. His fingertips, slick from her juices, slid easily back and forth over the tiny nubbin, coaxing blissful waves of heat to build as he moved inside her. He kissed her mouth deeply, suckling tenderly on her bottom lip while he played with her down below. He pulled his mouth away and feathered tiny kisses along her jaw toward her ear, where he nibbled on the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. Darelle melted completely under Gareth’s hand and tongue. He worked her body with tender passion, and she felt the heat of love simmering through his touch. His thrusts grew more heated, increasing in rhythm. His mouth melded with hers, their tongues mated together in deep passion. Suddenly, the vibration of a groan moved from his mouth into hers and his body twitched and jerked. Darelle felt his seed pulse into her for several moments before he collapsed gently on her, breathing heavily against her neck. She stroked the damp skin of his back, aware of feeling a deeper connection between them than before. Gareth kept his body joined with hers a bit longer until his erection began to soften and he slipped out, showering her mouth with more soft kisses. Kane gently lifted Darelle, propelling her into his brother who clasped her in his arms. 83

Sedonia Guillone

A languid sigh escaped her as her breasts crushed deliciously against the bulging hillocks of Gareth’s chest. The pleasant shudder of an orgasm passed through her and she wilted languorously against him. “It’s Kane’s turn with you, my lady,” he murmured in her ear, then turned her over so that her back was to his chest as she’d been positioned before with Kane. Kane now knelt before her, a goblet cupped in his large hands. His dark eyes shone on her and a grin curved his masculine lips. The scent of honey emanated from the cup, causing her to salivate, the sensation mingling with the thrum of sexual want pounding through her. Wantonly, she spread her legs wide, no longer abashed in front of the many pairs of eyes watching her. “It’s time to fulfill my promise to you, my lady,” Kane purred. He tilted the goblet over her, sending the thick amber substance into a sensuously sticky trail over her skin. Darelle moaned softly as the golden strand trailed over her breasts, down her stomach and pubic hair. Kane chuckled softly, drizzling the end of the honey onto her clitoris before finally setting the goblet aside. “Mmm,” he murmured, going forward onto his hands and knees, bridging her body. “You’ll never see honey the same way, beautiful Darelle,” he said in a husky whisper. He kissed her lips softly, pulling away to begin licking the honey off her chest. Each swipe of his tongue on her skin sent a shower of sparks through her. Lower and lower he moved, his tongue gliding over the tops of her breasts, languorously removing the drops of golden honey. He circled the moist warmth over her right nipple, taking the tip between his lips and tongue and tugging on it. Darelle threw her head back against Gareth’s chest and moaned. Kane released her nipple after what seemed a long time and made his way slowly over to the other one where he did the same. Heat swirled in her sex, which throbbed at a pitch. The folds and crevices between her thighs felt saturated with her juices and she breathed heavily, waiting for the moment his erection would fill the aching passage. Bit by bit, Kane licked and suckled his way down her stomach, greedily devouring the honey from her bare skin. His tongue raked through her pubic curls and then swiveled sensuously over her clit, over and over in tiny circles that made her buck her hips, demanding more. Swirls of heat radiated through her womb as another orgasm built in the tiny muscles. Just before she went over the edge, Kane lifted his face from her sex and grinned. He moved up on her body, nesting his hips between her thighs. Greedily, she locked her legs around him, bucking against him, demanding fulfillment.

84

Darelle’s Trinity

Kane kissed her, anointing her mouth with her own tangy juices. One large hand explored her sex, gentle fingertips spreading open her lower lips as his cock sought her swollen opening. Finally. He slid into her, gently but firmly in one smooth thrust. Carefully, he began rocking in and out of her, his mouth closed over hers in a deep kiss. His hard shaft ground against her clit, already swollen and throbbing from his oral feast on it. As the movements of his pelvis increased, the building of climax swirled once again in her aching nub. He ground increasingly faster and harder, bringing her closer to the final release. Darelle moaned and grasped his hard buttocks, pulling him as deep inside her as she could. She cried out as the tiny muscles erupted, sending waves of bliss through her womb. Each thrust of Kane’s hips sent another wave of release through her until there was nothing left and she clung to him, breathing heavily, moving her hips against him to bring him to his release. In moments, he groaned, thrusting in tiny jerking motions before collapsing gently onto her, his lips pressed to the side of her neck. Gareth gently moved out from underneath her and lay alongside her and Kane. One large hand stroked her hair. Darelle closed her eyes, her body saturated and held in the warmth of the two strong bodies surrounding her. She was vaguely aware of the murmurs and sighs of pleasure, both masculine and feminine, that now filled the room. The scent of sex permeated the air, mingling with the incense as the others on their couches began to make love in their couples and groups. She glanced up at the vision of many naked bodies intertwined, mouths suckling and licking, hands caressing, bodies joining, before she, herself, drifted to a contented sleep… “My lords! My lords!” A male voice echoed through the room, bringing Darelle from her slumber. Around her, Kane and Gareth both sat up. Darelle vaguely remembered him from all the people she’d given her blessing to earlier. “My lords, there was a vampire at the door who asked to speak to you.” The guard’s eyes were wild with fear. The look in them cut through Darelle’s drowsy state and she peeked at him from behind Gareth’s broad back. “What does he want, Daniel?” Gareth asked. “When I told him you could not come to the door, he left a message. He refused to stay and wait.” “What was the message?” Kane demanded.

85

Sedonia Guillone

“He said to tell you Lascaux is dead.” Darelle gasped. Icy heat prickled over her entire body. She should have felt relieved. She only felt horrified. “Is that all?” Gareth asked. Daniel nodded. “He said the Soldiers had done it and to stay away. To hide. Then he turned and left.” Darelle covered her mouth with her hands, ignoring the sounds of waking followers who’d also been slumbering on the couches. Apparently, they’d all been asleep for hours. But she didn’t care. All she could think of was that Lascaux was dead. No wonder her connection to him was broken. Gareth and Kane both turned to her. “My lady,” Kane said softly. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “It could be a trick, Gareth. Lascaux will stop at nothing to get her.” She heard Gareth sigh. “Perhaps. But that shudder of evil I felt earlier was not Lascaux. He was someone to stay away from, but none of us would have wished him dead. He was one of us, in his way.” A moment of silence followed. “Kane,” she heard Gareth say, “go and tell Michael to open La Cave to any vampire who needs refuge. If this is true and Lascaux has been killed, the Soldiers are apparently more dangerous than we’d ever thought them and now is a time to abandon the differences between les coeurs and the others.” Kane released Darelle into Gareth’s embrace. He rose from the couch and pulled on his trousers. She turned and buried her face in Gareth’s chest, glad for the warm protection of his arms while her other guardian turned to fulfill his brother’s orders.

86

Darelle’s Trinity

Chapter Ten Orleans, France Present day

Lascaux often dreamed of the ones who made him a vampire, in the time before vampires existed. In his sleep he saw them, the group of men and women who had formed a cult around Isis and Osiris, their ultimate goal, to attain eternal life. To do so, they interpreted the fertility myths and rites of these deities to their own ends. Even in the gray half-consciousness of slumber, Lascaux could feel the cold stone slab under his back where the two strongest men strapped him down. The promise of power and immortality lured him into their cave where the cult worshiped, but when the torchlight gleamed off the enormous, ragged knife blade the leader wielded, he struggled to free himself, only to be pinned down under a mountain of brawn and sinew. The slice of the blade across his wrists, the enervating drain of blood from his body, the dissonant thrum of chanting pounding in his ears, then blackness. When he came to, a hunger for blood, unlike any hunger he’d ever known, churned his gut. The first human being he looked upon when he opened his eyes was, to him, a creature on which to feed, their lifeblood the only thing that would satisfy his hunger… The dream ended and Lascaux opened his eyes. As usual upon waking, his tongue ached to lap the metallic taste of blood, to feel the water of life slide down his throat and fill his belly. These damned beastly Soldiers fed him only enough cow’s blood to keep him alive. And yet, today, as his consciousness rose, he noticed the hunger was not as strong as it had always been. His muscles screamed for release from the chains. In the last six hundred somewhat years or so, they’d taken him down for short periods of time in the hopes that some leniency would prompt him to reveal Darelle’s whereabouts. Of course, to no avail. He wilted, helplessly suspended, his dream still whispering to him, coaxing him to return to the twilight of sleep. Images teased his mind of rising from the stone slab under the expectant gazes of the cult members. He remembered the looks in their eyes, and the hunger to feed on their blood that had replaced his desire for the sweet juices of a pomegranate or the smoky toughness of charred meat. He had broken his bonds as if they’d been no stronger than a spider’s silken thread, causing the very people who’d made him to shrink back in fear. The same men who’d restrained him, Lascaux fed on, one by one, until he’d fed on every man and woman in the cave.

87

Sedonia Guillone

Dawn was coming, the sky through the barred window faded from inky blackness to midnight blue, then lightened gradually to gray and pink. As it had every morning for the last six and a half centuries of imprisonment, the glow of the sun peeked above the stone, dimming the brightness of the electric bulbs in his cell. His captors had installed this invention more than eighty years earlier, and by the light of these bulbs, he’d watched one generation of Soldiers after the next grow old and die, their quest to destroy him and Darelle, in vain. Like he cared. He sighed, waiting for the sun’s rays to singe him with their evil heat. The light moved upward, shining on his bare skin. He scrunched his eyes shut in anticipation. No burning. Only a dull itch, and a slight stinging behind the eyelids, like that of coarse wool rubbing his flesh. He opened his eyes and looked directly through the window, something he had not been able to do for thousands of years. He drank in the sunlight on his face the way he’d done as a boy in Egypt, following his goats as they ran and leapt over the rocky hills. A chuckle erupted from deep in his gut, rising into his chest and throat. He began to laugh, his laughter growing louder, echoing off the stone walls. His body strained against the shackles as the laughter caused his entire body to shake. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor in all this. His laughter rang out so loudly, he soon heard the scrape of the key in the lock to the cell. They were, of course, coming to find out what was going on. Fuck ‘em, he thought, practically drunk from the roaring laughter that gushed from deep inside his being. What these cocksuckers couldn’t accomplish by centuries of bullying and torture and threats, love had done. He was mortal again.

***** One week later The lock to his cell clicked and the heavy door creaked open. Now given a rusty old cot and a thin, stained mattress, Lascaux looked up from where he’d been lying down. The first figure to enter the cell, he recognized, though he hadn’t seen the man for nearly seven hundred years. Serge. In spite of Lascaux’s rejection and obsession with Darelle, Serge had faithfully kept watch over the châteaux. Serge was his usual magnificent self, in spite of the haunted look in his eyes. Well-groomed and dressed, his dark hair combed back off a high forehead, Serge’s sinewy body remained lean and lithe, like a panther.

88

Darelle’s Trinity

Serge’s expression, however, reflected only horror and pain as he looked on his oldest, dearest friend whose love for Darelle had obviously not dampened his own for Lascaux. Unfortunately, the bastards were right behind him, blocking the doorway. Lascaux knew Serge wouldn’t try anything that could risk his old lover’s death. Now that Lascaux was mortal, one gunshot or knife stabbing could end it. He also knew that Darelle was the only one who could bring him back. Silently, the younger vampire perched himself on the mattress. A trembling hand reached out and touched Lascaux’s head, smoothing back the wild, tangled mane that blended with the equally unruly matted beard. Someone chuckled from the doorway. Lascaux’s head whipped up to see a strange contraption being aimed at him. “It’s a video camera,” Serge told him quietly. “It’s for her to see.” Lascaux looked at him. Glistening tears pooled in Serge’s eyes and Lascaux knew the younger vampire was thinking only one thing. The one he loved and saw as his mate was going to grow old and die, and he was going to prevent it. “No,” he told Serge. “Leave it be.” Serge looked at him, frustration marring his features. They could no longer communicate silently. “I no longer care what you say, Valmont. They’re making this tape and I’m bringing it to her.” Lascaux’s impulse was to reach out and grab Serge’s collar, threatening him with fangs bared. But of course, he no longer had fangs, and his body was devoid of strength, both vampire and mortal, kept hungry as he was. “You know she won’t be able to refuse. Even if she did hate me, which she doesn’t, the Coeurs Éternels refuse no being in suffering.” Serge nodded. “Of course I know that. And she has danced through the centuries with her two lovers, ignorant of your suffering.” Lascaux looked at him, knowing the reason for the bitterness in Serge’s voice. “I wanted it that way. And I’m certain she hasn’t danced. These fucking mortals never cease to start wars and create many who need to be put out of their misery.” A look of pain shot through Serge’s azure eyes. “You’ll never stop defending her, will you? Even if it means your own death.” Lascaux sighed heavily and leaned back against the cool stones of the wall. “I’m sorry, my friend. I can’t help it. I do only what you would have done for me.” A tear slipped from Serge’s eye. Feeding on enough blood did sometimes give vampires tears to cry. He reached for Lascaux’s hand and squeezed it gently before releasing it. He stood slowly from the cot and looked down at Lascaux. “I’ll have you back,” he whispered. Lascaux watched Serge turn and leave the cell, followed by the cocksucker holding the camera.

89

Sedonia Guillone

***** The Next day A living god had just walked into her shop. Darelle smiled, watching Gareth from the doorway of her office right between the bookstore and café sections. Well, it depended on how one defined “living”. After all these centuries, she never tired of watching either Kane or Gareth. Classical music played in the background of her bookstore, mingling with the airsucking sound of the frother on the espresso machine on the café side. Gareth had finished his hourly round of the outside of the café and now began his round of the interior. His muscular body, well-shown off by his white button-down shirt and close-fitting slacks, flexed under the fabric as he moved, like a cougar, stalking with predatory grace. A delicious smattering of dark hair poked through the open collar. He and his brother, who never went more than a few feet away from her, had taken quite well to the fashions of the early twenty-first century. The tightening of her nipples against the silk cups of her brassiere was an immediate testament to how delicious both of them looked. She forced herself to put her attention back on her inventory list only to have Kane inch closer to her on her office sofa and lean into her, nibbling on her earlobe. One hand covered her knee and sought to venture under the hem of her skirt. The miniskirt had been an invention that met with Kane’s wholehearted approval. The delicate bite of his teeth on the sensitive skin sent delightful shivers through her and the book titles and figures on the printout blurred. She moaned softly. “Kane, I’ll never be able to finish this on time if you keep doing that.” He chuckled and scraped his teeth playful along her earlobe before releasing it. “Zut. I was hoping you were already finished. It’s nighttime already and you’ve been working all day. You’re just so irresistible in these modern clothes.” She smiled at him. “You know I’ve only begun.” She planted a quick kiss on his lips before returning her attention to the list. She loved her little shop, which her guardians had helped her set up, right in the busiest section of Rue Mouffetard. There were many college students in the area who frequented the store, reading, studying and discussing books over their espresso. Even though Darelle didn’t drink the beverage, she loved books—ever since she’d learned to read—and her store was a welcome rest from their regular rounds of the globe, going to wherever there was a war or natural disaster, in search of the dying who wished to be put out of their suffering. Such an occupation, in spite of the fact that it provided them with an abundance of fresh blood, was also emotionally wrenching. Were it not for the pleasure and companionship she had with Kane and Gareth, she would long ago have wanted to be staked to end the depression caused by always being around war and pestilence.

90

Darelle’s Trinity

She looked up again to see Gareth in the doorway of the office, a strange expression on his face. “Darelle,” Gareth said, “this is Serge Aranov.” Darelle recognized the name of the vampire who had told them of Lascaux’s murder nearly seven hundred years ago. Serge now sported a stylish haircut, his shiny dark hair short around the sides and longer on top. He wore black jeans and boots and a studded black leather jacket. He still wore his sunglasses even though he was inside. Immediately Kane sat up at attention, while a sharp pounding drummed in Darelle’s chest. She eyed Serge a moment longer before setting her papers on the coffee table in front of her and cleared her throat. “Gareth, what is the matter?” Gareth stood aside and gesture Serge into the office. “Serge said he needed to speak with you and that it was urgent. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.” As the other vampire walked in, Darelle noticed the videotape in his hand. Gareth took a seat on her other side, sitting protectively close, as did Kane, while motioning Serge to take the empty chair at the end of the coffee table. “What do you need to speak to Darelle about?” Serge took off his sunglasses and folded them into a pocket. His cerulean gaze looked from Gareth to Kane, with a cautious expression. “Yes, we remain with her,” Gareth said as if Serge had verbalized the question in his eyes. Serge heaved a sigh. “Very well. It’s about Lascaux.” Darelle caught her breath. “What about him?” Serge pinned her gaze, his handsome face lined in distress. “That night I came to you and told you the Soldiers had killed him, it was a lie. Lascaux made me tell you that. The Soldiers had captured him and were trying to force him summon you to the castle, so they could kill you. They have him captive to this day.” His face fell in misery and it did not take a genius to see that Serge was madly in love with the vampire. Darelle gasped. Lascaux was alive! After all these centuries! Her mind and heart reeled at the very thought. She stared at Serge. “But…but…it does not make sense. As his protégé, I always had the mind connection to him. It was gone, as if he really was dead.” “Don’t believe him, Darelle,” Gareth said in a low growl of a voice. “This is a ploy of some sort.” He turned a hard look on Serge who did not flinch, but squared his shoulders. “I swear to you I’m telling you the truth.” He took a deep breath and held up the videotape. “If you don’t believe me, look at this.” Gareth stood and snatched the tape from Serge’s hand. He went to a small television set with a built-in videotape player that sat on top of a filing cabinet. He pushed the power button and waited for the picture to come on. 91

Sedonia Guillone

Darelle perched on the edge of the seat and stared at the screen. The thin, filthy man on the cot dressed in rags, his matted hair and beard rioting wildly down his chest and back, could not possibly be Lascaux. She listened to the brief exchange between him and Serge. The voice, though raspy with exhaustion, sounded much like Lascaux’s voice. Suddenly, the camera zoomed in closer, focusing directly onto the face. Darelle’s heart beat in a furious rhythm. There was no mistaking those eyes. She’d seen them up too close, smoldering as they gazed on her. No matter how his appearance had changed, she could never mistake the eyes of the man who had made her immortal. “That’s…him!” Her voice squeaked out in a choked whisper. A comforting, strong arm came up around her shoulders and she felt Kane move in closer to her, squeezing her to him protectively. Gareth paused the videotape and turned to Darelle, his dark brow furrowed. “Are you certain, Darelle? Look closely. I would not put it past this man sitting here to be tricking you in order to gain revenge for Lascaux’s murder.” “I assure you I am not trying to trick you. I’m desperate.” He held out his hand in a pleading gesture toward the television screen. “You can hear for yourself, he’s telling me not to do this. He is simply too tired to fight me. If you’d been imprisoned and tortured for nearly seven centuries, you’d be exhausted too!” Darelle looked at him, her eyes wide. “Tortured?” Her lower lip trembled. “Oh my God.” She turned to Gareth. “We must help him!” Serge leaned toward her, hope brightening his face. “Please. There is something else I didn’t yet tell you. He’s…mortal now. He hasn’t the strength or ability to fight them. As a mortal, he will grow old and die. That is, if they don’t put a bullet through him first.” His shoulders hunched and he slumped over, his head in his hands. Darelle looked back at the picture on the screen. Tears pooled in her eyes and her heart ached with guilt. “Mortal,” she breathed. “Serge, how can he be mortal?” Serge lifted his face from his hands and looked at her. “I don’t know. But I do know that he will die and that you are the only one who can bring him back across.” He shot a look at Gareth. “Don’t you think I would have already saved him if I could? Do you think it’s been a joyride skulking around that castle for centuries, trying not to get staked by those motherfuckers?” Darelle turned to Kane. “Kane, please. We must help him.” Kane smoothed her riotous curls back off her forehead as her tears began to fall in earnest. “Of course we have to help him.” He looked at Gareth. “You know that, don’t you?” Gareth leveled him an angry look. “You needn’t remind me of our place in this world, Kane. I know it all too well. But you will please excuse me for getting pissed off that we have to send Darelle into the very trap Lascaux himself sought to spare her from!”

92

Darelle’s Trinity

Darelle covered her face with her hands as her sobs escalated, racking her body. She couldn’t imagine what the Soldiers had done to Lascaux all these years to reduce him to what she saw on that videotape. God help her. She would never be able to make amends to him. To think the vampire who had made her, frightened her half to death and aroused her body to a pitch of desire without ever physically touching her was the same man who had sacrificed his own life for her. The least she could do was bring him back across. Serge’s eyes widened and he moved forward in his seat. “Are you saying you’ll go? You’ll help him?” Gareth took his place next to Darelle and picked up her hand. “Yes, Serge. That’s what we’re saying.” The other man’s eyes began to glisten again with new tears. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Please, we must leave right now.” “All right,” Gareth growled. “Did you drive here?” “Yes, I did. I’m parked a few blocks away.” He gave them his exact location. “Very well. We’ll follow you.” “I must tell Colette what’s happening.” “No,” Gareth said. “Tell her the three of us are going for a long weekend. She knows how much Kane loves to take you around in that Ferrari of his. Do not tell her why.” Darelle nodded. Although CE’s could not be killed with stakes or guns, the CE’s were also sworn not to kill and wouldn’t be able to defend Lascaux and Serge against an army of Soldiers armed with stakes. She glanced once at Serge before going out into the store with Kane, to tell Marc to mind the store for a couple of days. He was a faithful manager and enjoyed running it for her when she was on her missions. Then, she and Kane went down to the cave to tell Colette they were leaving.

93

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Eleven “You know, there are times when I absolutely resent being what I am.” Kane punctuated his statement by jamming down the accelerator. His hands kept an iron grip on the steering wheel as they sped down A10 toward Orleans. Darelle didn’t answer from the backseat. Her gaze flickered to Gareth in the passenger seat, her attention fixed on the back of his head. He, too, remained silent. Kane sighed, an obvious sound of frustration at the lack of response. “What if it’s a trick? You yourself, brother, are always scolding me for lack of caution. That video could be a complete hoax. Lascaux could have been acting. It’s not out of his realm of capability.” “It wasn’t a trick and you know it,” Gareth growled. Kane groaned. “I know, but trick or not, we’re dealing with Soldiers here. This is Darelle we’re putting at risk. Our sweetheart.” Gareth huffed. “Enough, Kane. Don’t make it worse.” Darelle reached out and laid her hand on Kane’s shoulder, feeling the slight flexing of the muscle as he drove. She couldn’t imagine loving him and Gareth more. For hundreds of years, neither guardian had strayed more than a few feet from her side. Together, the three of them had experienced every possible joy, sorrow and pleasure. “I’m sorry, Kane, Coeur Éternel or not, I owe him his freedom. It’s my fault he’s suffered for so long.” Her eyes met Kane’s in the rearview mirror. His look of absolute worry sliced through her. “He’s not the one who wants you there, Darelle,” Kane said. “You saw that. It’s Serge, his lover, who doesn’t want him to die.” She squeezed his shoulder. “If it had been you in that cell,” she said, “I would feel the same way as Serge does. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.” Gareth turned in his seat and gently touched her cheek. His touch warmed her, infusing her with strength she didn’t feel. “Darelle, I know we must do this. Our nature demands it of us. But you’re not at fault. None of us knew what was happening to Lascaux. Certainly if we had, we wouldn’t have let it continue.” “Yeah,” Kane added. “He obviously severed your psychic connection somehow. He didn’t want you to know.” All the more reason she felt so guilty. Guilt clawed at her heart, guilt for having loved her guardians and not Lascaux. “This is the same vampire who attacked us in the barn that day,” Gareth reminded her. “The same one who terrified you, who wanted to keep you prisoner against your 94

Darelle’s Trinity

will.” He looked at her, his strong features shadowed in the gathering dusk. “You must keep that in mind.” She nodded, her gut tightening mercilessly. None of them had any idea how they were going to repel the Soldiers who were waiting to kill all of them once she’d brought Lascaux back across. “There’s another thing,” Kane said, sounding as if he’d read her mind, which he might well have. “I don’t like the fact that Darelle is to feed on Lascaux. She’s going to imbibe his essence. I don’t want her to change.” Her heart lurched painfully at Kane’s words. She hadn’t even given a thought to the possible changes in her that could occur from feeding on Lascaux. Even though he was mortal now, he’d been alive so long and he had such a dominant essence, no doubt she would absorb some of his qualities. What if she were no longer a Coeur Eternal after drinking Lascaux’s blood? She would lose Kane and Gareth, her lovers and protectors for nearly seven hundred years. The mere thought was to horrifying to bear and caused bile to rise in her gut. “Kane, after thousands of years, you still haven’t learned to stay your tongue.” Gareth looked at him reprovingly. “She’ll be feeding off someone who’s endured centuries of suffering to keep her safe. In spite of what he’s been, he has loved her.” Darelle stared at Gareth, confused. In nearly the same breath he defended Lascaux and reminded her of the hurt he’d done her. Kane glanced at him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” “It’s all right, Kane,” Darelle said. “Please, just get us there,” Gareth murmured. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get Darelle out of there.”

***** Darelle’s breath caught softly. Even in the darkness, she recognized the landscape in which she’d been born and had lived all of her mortal life. Though no longer a patchwork of feudal estates dotted with medieval villages and cottages, the overall appearance of green hills and trees had not changed very much through the centuries. Neither had Lascaux’s castle. Kane braked to a halt in the large driveway along which a series of black MercedesBenz sedans had been parked. Darelle dragged in a shivery breath and peered out the window. The château in which Lascaux had brought her across had withstood the passage of time quite impressively. The sharp stone gables still towered high and all the walls were intact save for a spot of crumbling here and there. She realized with a shiver up her spine that the Soldiers must have spared no expense in the upkeep of the place while imprisoning Lascaux. 95

Sedonia Guillone

A sick feeling assaulted her gut at the memory of the video—of Lascaux’s filthy, ragged condition. She wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for the injustice he’d endured for a love that would remain unrequited. Kane and Gareth got out and Gareth put his seat forward, extending his hand to help Darelle out of the backseat. Once she stepped out, Gareth pulled her against him. She was vividly aware of Kane’s masculine warmth covering her from behind. They stood silently for several long moments, a gentle summer breeze caressing them. Had it been any other night, Darelle would have luxuriated in the velvety evening and strong embraces of her guardians. But not this night, not when her fate and the fate of the men she loved could tear them apart. Gareth pulled away first. He smoothed her hair back with a tender hand. “I love you, Darelle,” he said softly. Her bottom lips trembled and she almost screamed and turned. Shame burned in her cheeks that she should be so afraid after nearly seven centuries. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. Behind her, Kane’s hand raked softly through her hair. “It’s all right to be afraid,” he said. “Just don’t forget everything you’ve learned.” “Not the least of which is that you’ve ten times the physical strength of the strongest man in there,” Kane said, a large hand on her shoulder. “And, well, the fact that you’ve mastered just about every style of martial arts in both the eastern and western worlds doesn’t hurt, either.” She smiled in spite of herself. Since the day Kane and Gareth had come for her, Kane had never faced any situation without some humor. “That’s true,” she answered. Some of her fondest memories over the centuries were of those her guardians had spent training her to fight, Kane touched her cheek. He looked about to say more when the large front door creaked open. Even from the considerable distance they were from the huge oak doors, the massive size alone of the château entrance made the sound carry. Darelle caught her breath softly, leaning back against Kane whose arms closed protectively around her. Gareth moved closer to her as they watched men in army fatigues begin to pour from the castle and march over the stone bridge toward them. Goose bumps rose on her flesh at the sight of each man toting a machine gun over his shoulder and a thick, sharp wooden stake at his belt. In spite of the fact that their weapons were useless against Coeurs Éternels, the human wall surrounded her, Kane and Gareth with an air of distinct menace. Their hatred was palpable and churned up terrible reminders of the inhumanity of which mankind was capable, not only to vampires, but to each other.

96

Darelle’s Trinity

One man, physically larger than the rest, stepped toward them, walking through the pool of light from the floodlights installed around the front entry. A red beret covered his head, stopping halfway down a jutting forehead that topped two glitteringly cruel eyes. He toted the same machine gun and spike as the others, only his uniform sported badges that indicated he was their captain. He stopped in front of them, his men parting just widely enough to let him through. His eyes roved over them, resting an extra moment on Darelle. His thin lips curled in a sneer. “The girl comes alone,” he snarled, bringing one large hand to rest on the stake at his belt. Gareth returned his threatening growl. “The hell she does.” He moved against her, sandwiching her firmly between him and Kane. In spite of the walls of muscle separating her from the Soldier, Darelle shivered. The hatred emanating from him sent shudders through her. She’d seen many people like him over the centuries and their malice never ceased to horrify her. “Brendan’s orders,” Beret Man barked. He slid the spike meaningfully from its holder. Around them, the other Soldiers did the same, the air filling with the sound of the stakes sliding from belts. “We don’t take orders from anyone,” Gareth said. “The stakes won’t work on us, gentlemen,” Kane cut in. “Didn’t Brendan tell you that?” Beret Man stiffened. He raised the stake, poised to strike. “Brendan told us not to believe anything a vampire says. And the word of a direct descendant of Cairn is law.” Darelle had never heard of Cairn, but instinct told her that Cairn must have been one of the Soldiers who first captured Lascaux. The mere thought pushed the urgency of their task over her fear. She put a hand on Gareth’s arm. They had to get to Lascaux and bring him across. At least then, they’d all have a chance of escape. “Gareth, what they don’t realize is that the only way they can kill us is through Lascaux. If they leave you and Kane outside, you’ll escape while Lascaux drains me. You’ll have time to warn the others and they will hide. Perhaps Brendan has not considered this in ordering his men to keep you from accompanying me.” Gareth looked down at her, his expression indiscernible. “Yes, my lady. I believe you’re correct.” She peered back at Beret Man. The giant’s expression wavered and she could see her words sinking into his mind. Other things showed on his face then, and she read him as easily as she did the books she sold in her store. Beret Man had ambitions of his own. He wanted to be the glorious hero who rid the world of vampires. Yet, he hadn’t considered that her kind of vampire was immune to the conventional methods of killing vampires. Apparently, whoever this Brendan was, he had chosen to keep the other Soldiers ignorant of this knowledge. If Brendan found out one of his Soldiers would betray him, that man would probably be put to death. All this, Darelle read in Beret 97

Sedonia Guillone

Man’s eyes in that fleeting moment. She also knew she had just given him a chance to save his own skin while gaining access to Lascaux without further delay. Beret Man cleared his throat. He slid the spike back into place and pulled a radio from another portion of his belt. “We’re coming,” he said into the tiny speaker. “All except that one.” He pointed to Serge. Serge glared at him but remained where he was, obviously cautious. Beret Man slammed the radio back into place and looked at them, the hatred worse than ever. “You try the least little trick and you’re all dead.” “I thought that was the idea,” Kane said. Beret Man glared at him and Darelle wanted to elbow Kane to be quiet, but as they began to move forward, her anticipation of seeing Lascaux immediately erased Kane’s quip from her attention. The Soldiers remained in a tight ring around her and her guardians as they advanced out of the driveway and over the bridge toward Lascaux’s castle. Darelle kept her gaze pinned on the back of Beret Man’s camouflage fatigues as she walked between Gareth and Kane. The irony of her mission here was not lost on her. The last time she’d been within these walls, Lascaux had made her immortal. How utterly bizarre and ironic that she should be here to do the exact same for him. The castle doors were so large and heavy, it took two Soldiers each to open them. Even from her position on the large threshold, the glow of hundreds of candles emanated from within and she could see the drapings of large worn tapestries over the walls and see the glinting gold crosses strung around the perimeter of the giant front hall. The human blockade parted way around them, revealing Lascaux, seated on a bench in the center of the room, his hands bound behind him. Darelle suppressed a cry at seeing the vampire who’d made her now a mortal man, his body thin. Gone was the wild tangled mane. His black hair had been shorn in a military style buzz and his beard shaven off completely, putting the bruises and cuts on his pale face in stark relief. The long sleeve button-down shirt and simple slacks he’d been dressed in hung on his thin body as if he were a coat rack. The only thing that remained of the Lascaux Darelle had known was the gleam in his dark eyes, a defiance that stated clearly he would not allow himself to be broken. As she approached, their gazes locked and Darelle saw the defiant glimmer soften into something else. He looked at her now with a tenderness of which she had never thought him capable. Her heart wrenched painfully. “Lascaux,” she whispered. To her surprise, a gentle smile curved his lips. “Please, Darelle, call me Valmont. I think we can be on first-name terms at this point.” Darelle covered her mouth, suppressing the strange choking of tears and laughter at his remark.

98

Darelle’s Trinity

His gaze rested on hers an extra moment before flickering over to Kane and Gareth momentarily. “I would offer you all a seat, but—” He shrugged and nodded toward the Soldiers lining the entire perimeter of the hall. “As you can see…” His smile faded, but the tenderness did not leave his eyes. “Darelle, please come closer.” Obediently, Darelle took a step toward him and knelt down in front of his chair, aware of Kane and Gareth staying close by. Valmont looked at her again, the twinkle returning to his raven dark gaze. “Life is a strange thing, is it not, my lady?” His respectful title of her sent a frisson through her. Such a stark contrast to the forceful lust with which he’d treated her so long ago. “Seigneur…I mean…Valmont, I am so sorry for what has happened to you. I fear I can never make amends.” He studied her face for several moments before the same gentle smile came to his face. “You’ve nothing for which to be sorry, Darelle.” His gaze flickered again to Kane and Gareth. “You love these men?” he asked softly. Tears crowded her eyes and she nodded. “Oui, I do. They are everything to me.” Valmont looked at her. “In my place, would you wish them to carry such a burden of guilt for knowing you loved them, even though you have suffered?” She shook her head vigorously. “Never,” she whispered. Valmont nodded. “Get on with this,” a deep voice boomed suddenly, the timbre of it echoing off the floor and ceiling. “We’re tired of your friend in the cellar screaming out for you.” Darelle gasped. Serge! They’d dragged him down and were holding him prisoner, probably threatening to stake him. Unlike herself, Serge could be killed through conventional means. “Serge,” she whispered. Valmont winked at her just before a robed figure came to stand behind him. The man, dressed like a Franciscan monk, scowled at her, his lips an angry shade of red within the confines of his beard. He, too, wore a huge spike in his corded belt in addition to a large cross around his neck. “Did you hear me?” he said. Valmont’s smile widened into a grin. “Brendan here and I have an understanding. He gives the orders and I tell him to go fuck himself.” He looked up at his captor. “Go fuck yourself, Brendan.” Brendan growled and pulled out his spike, brandishing it over Valmont’s head. He was about to bring it down on him like a club when Gareth lunged forward and absorbed the impact of the blow. The spike ricocheted off his muscled forearm and clattered to the floor. “Isn’t it enough that you’ve tortured him for centuries, you bastards? You need to strike him when he’s unarmed and helpless? You’re cowards, every last one of you.”

99

Sedonia Guillone

The guards around the sides of the room moved in on them, but Brendan held up a hand. “We’ll have our opportunity soon enough,” he said to them. “I’m very touched by this reunion, but we’ve waited long enough.” Darelle watched the exchange of hard looks between the Soldier called Brendan and Gareth. She’d never seen her guardian look fiercer than he did in this moment, not even when he’d fought with Valmont in the barn. Again, she reached out and touched Gareth’s arm, eager to bring Valmont back across so he could defend himself. That is, if the millions of crosses draped on the walls everywhere the eye could see did not drain him of his power. She swallowed hard and looked at Brendan, experiencing the same wave of horror from his hatred as she had felt emanating from Beret Man. The last times she had felt this way had been in the presence of the Nazis during the last century and in America during the Civil Rights movement when white police turned dogs on the peaceful protestors, white and black. “Very well,” she said softly. “I will do as you ask if it will keep you from hurting him again.” Brendan grinned, his dark eyes glittering. “I plan only on killing him, my dear.” Icy shivers passed over every inch of her skin and anger burned through her veins. If it hadn’t been for her ingrained nature not to take life from anger, she would have pounced on him this moment and drained him dry. Gritting her teeth, she turned her attention back to Valmont. Looking at him eased the tension of anger and she took a seat close beside him on the bench. In spite of his thin, battered condition, Valmont still radiated a primal maleness that sent a ripple of arousal through her body. Her cheeks burned and she averted her eyes, horrified that she should respond this way to Valmont after so long. Tamping down her shame and guilt, she looked at him, her breath catching softly at the tenderness in his dark eyes. “In spite of the circumstances, I am obligated to ask you one question before…I do this.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Ask me anything, Darelle.” The tone in his voice held a hint of mischief and she smiled, in spite of the menacing presence of Brendan looming over them. “Do you wish me to feed on you?” His gaze pierced her. “I would love nothing more,” he said softly and turned slightly on the bench. He tilted his head, giving her access to the side of his neck. The sight of the flesh aroused her hunger. The tiny pulsing in her gums signaled the extension of her fangs. Her vampire blood rushed through her, collecting inevitably in her loins, which ached for release as much as her body ached for Valmont’s blood. Valmont had closed his eyes, the dark lashes contrasting harshly with his haggard cheeks. Darelle licked her lips and reached up, cupping his right cheek gently. She became suddenly aware of Gareth and Kane who stood close by. Glancing at them, she saw their dark eyes looking back at her from serious, intent faces.

100

Darelle’s Trinity

Valmont must have opened his eyes and looked at them, for he chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, gentlemen,” he said, “I don’t bite.” “Just get on with it, Darelle,” Gareth muttered, though not in a cruel way as Brendan had. Wordlessly, she nodded, her terror mounting, threatening to swallow up her blood thirst. Closing her eyes, she leaned in to Valmont whose skin was warm and smelled faintly of soap. Her terror forgotten, she sank her fangs into his neck, barely aware of his slight jolt when she pierced his skin. He moaned softly as she pulled out and began suckling from the two small holes. Valmont’s warm, coppery blood slid easily down his throat and he sighed with obvious pleasure from each long sip she took. Time melted away as Darelle drained Lascaux of his lifeblood. His body weakened, slumping against her, and his heartbeat, which had crashed in her ears, also dimmed and slowed. At the moment she sensed his life about to leave him, she stopped and sealed the punctures with a gentle swipe of her tongue. With her arms around his unmoving body, Darelle held him and waited.

101

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Twelve “What’s going on?” Brendan’s voice cut through the long silence that followed Darelle’s feeding. At least ten minutes had passed since she’d stopped drinking from Lascaux’s body and he hadn’t moved. The Soldier whipped around to the front of the bench, only to be stopped by Gareth and Kane. “Stay away from her,” Gareth growled. Brendan scowled. “She’s killed him, hasn’t she?” His frustrated sound echoed off the high ceilings. The tapestries, worn with time, did very little to absorb the sound. “You bitch! You killed him!” “Enough!” Gareth shouted. He raised a large hand and swatted Brendan who toppled immediately to the floor. The Soldiers guarding the perimeter of the room rushed forward, machine guns brandished. The room filled suddenly with the thunderous echo of a shower of bullets. Darelle screamed and bent protectively over Valmont. A heavy darkness closed over her and she realized that Gareth and Kane were covering her and Lascaux with their bodies. The machine gun fire ceased all at once and the room was silent. For one brief moment, the fear terrorized her that her guardians had been killed. When she felt them moving and rising off her, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “You idiots!” she heard Brendan yell. Sitting up, still cradling Valmont’s body, she saw Brendan picking himself from the floor. He staggered to his feet, shooting hard looks at his men who stood like statues. “You could have killed me!” He turned on Darelle. With satisfaction, she noticed the side of his face had turned bright red and had already begun to swell from where Gareth had hit him. She saw the insulting names Brendan wanted to call her hovering on his lips. She knew he held them back for fear he’d receive another attack. Brendan’s gaze landed on Valmont who still lay limp in Darelle’s arms. “That bastard had better not be playing games.” He lunged forward, grabbed hold of Valmont’s shirt collar and yanked hard. Darelle cried out as Valmont’s limp body fell from her arms and tumbled to the floor. “Don’t touch him!” She glared at the horrible slayer and lunged forward to retrieve Valmont. Her gaze flew to Gareth’s and then to Kane’s, but they were both watching Lascaux who lay unmoving.

102

Darelle’s Trinity

She gathered Valmont into her arms again, rocking him, suppressing the sobs that threatened to erupt. “I killed him.” Brendan jabbed a booted foot into Valmont’s side. “Hey!” Kane lunged forward and shoved Brendan aside. Brendan whirled around until he saw Beret Man. “Come here!” Beret Man stepped forward. “Yes, Sir.” “Go get the one downstairs and bring him here.” Beret Man squared his shoulders. “Yes, Sir!” He turned on his heel and marched out, followed by three other Soldiers. Brendan turned to Darelle. “I’m still not convinced this bastard on the floor is dead. I know he thinks I’m stupid, but if he’s pretending, he’ll be more likely to come around if he sees his friend getting a stake in the chest.” Valmont heard Brendan’s voice through the haze. Before him, a light hovered, inviting, beckoning him. The feeling was beyond anything sensual he’d ever known. More tempting than power, prestige, immortality of the physical body, he felt his soul being enveloped by an entity he’d never before known in centuries of existence. Peace. The light, brighter than a thousands suns without being blinding, caressed him, carrying him on its rays with the promise of unending peace. Vaguely, in the reaches of his farthest memory, he recalled standing once before on this very threshold, the night in the cave when the cult in Egypt had made him immortal. His thirst for power, for world domination had pulled him immediately out, into the blood thirst that had driven him to feed on every person in the cave before venturing out. After that, he’d known a brief period of the prestige and power he’d craved, until Laila had learned what he was and had hated him until her death. Her hatred had run so deep, she’d allowed the Coeurs Éternels to bring her to her final rest. After all this time, none of it had come to anything. Every great thing he’d ever been or thought he’d been had passed away and he’d ended up here, battered and torn, mortal again for love of a woman. Love had remained the only constant in all that time. Darelle’s feeding had brought him once again to this threshold. Only now, he had the inner power and world-weariness to pass the other way, to die and know peace. About to step through, something held him back. He knew exactly what it was. He’ll be more likely to come around if he sees his friend getting a stake in the chest. The words froze him. Kept him from stepping across. He did not love Serge in the all-consuming way he did Darelle. At least until this moment, he never believed he had. Serge had been taken with him from their first meeting and had begged him to bring him across only so he could always be in the world with him. Once lovers, Serge had remained loyal and devoted, even when either of them was with another, including the entire duration of Lascaux’s imprisonment.

103

Sedonia Guillone

Serge had never been more than a mind call from him and had spent the last six hundred plus years skulking around the château simply to be near him. In this moment of truth, Valmont knew he loved Serge deeply, more than his own life. He’d nearly lost Serge with his obsession with Darelle, yet he hadn’t. He needed a chance to make up for the pain he’d caused his lover even if they never made love again. Not only that, Valmont could not abandon Serge now, not when Serge’s life was at stake. Literally. Fight! he told himself. It took every ounce of his strength to pull away from that tempting bliss that would carry him from everything forever. The struggle was much more arduous than it had been the first time, without the anger or greed fueling him. The sound of Serge being dragged across the floor, chains rattling against the stones gave him the rush of strength he needed. The force of determination propelled Valmont to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Darelle, her lovely eyes wide open and glistening with tears, staring at him. The sight caused a rush through him. He felt his bodily strength returning. The scars and wounds his captors had inflicted on him since he’d become mortal were fast fading. He looked directly up, to where the crosses were strung. Unlike they had in the past, the symbols were not diminishing his powers. No burning in the eyes, no need to turn away. In the flash of an instant he understood that the same love that had made him mortal had now made him invincible. Darelle released him and he rose to his feet. “Valmont!” He turned at Serge’s familiar voice, only to see his friend completely wrapped in chains, save for enough space over the region of his heart to pass a spike. Brendan stood over Serge, a large stake in his hand, poised over that very vulnerable region of Serge’s chest. Valmont growled, the anger of centuries uncoiling in an instant. He lunged at Brendan, gliding to cover the distance between them and knocked Brendan’s spike from the monster’s hand. The piece of wood clattered to the floor, the sound echoing through the hall. Brendan’s eyes widened as the knowledge of what was about to happen to him flooded his smarmy features. Some machine guns fired, the sound thundering in the great hall. Valmont grinned, feeling the shower of bullets bounce off his body, not even penetrating his skin. Brendan didn’t order them to stop this time, his gaze locked on Valmont’s. “You disgusting creature,” Brendan said. “You piece of filth.” Valmont yanked on his bonds and snapped them as if they were made of thread. He closed the remaining space between them and grabbed Brendan, forcing the Soldiers to cease fire or risk shooting their leader. He grasped Brendan’s arms, feeling his own strength as he pulled the man to him as if he were a mere rag doll. Centuries of imprisonment and misery gathered in him, fueling his hatred. And now the rat from hell was using the words of his wife thousands of years ago when she’d declared her

104

Darelle’s Trinity

hatred for him. He grimaced, biting back the emotional pain the words caused him. “You know what, Brendan? You were wrong about me.” Brendan scowled. “Wrong? How?” He smiled. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I know you’re stupid.” He yanked Brendan toward him, sinking his fangs in the soft part of the man’s neck, below his jaw. Withdrawing them, he suckled furiously, years of starvation and torment urging him. He pressed Brendan firmly in place as he fed, the deliciously warm blood slipping down his throat, filling his belly. In the back of his consciousness, he heard the showers of bullets, the thundering machine gun fire filling the room, bullets ricocheting off the walls. There was nothing he could do but feed, hoping that Darelle, Serge and the others could fight off the Soldiers and their guns until he could rejoin them. Soldiers tried to grab Valmont and pry him off Brendan, but Valmont’s physical strength made them bounce off him, useless while he drained Brendan’s life force. Bit by bit, the man’s body sagged until all that was left was the empty shell. Brendan’s body sagged in his arms and Valmont released him, letting his body fall to the floor. The scene of battle continued around him. Someone, presumably the guardians, had unbound Serge. He, Darelle and her guardians were now fighting, kicking, punching, throwing Soldiers off them. Even then they tried not to kill these men, some of whom died from being thrown so high against the wall and falling to the hard floor. Other men lay dead, their throats sliced open from fangs. Valmont followed the trail of bodies with his gaze until he saw Serge on the main staircase. A Soldier stood before him, cross held out. But Serge had never been vulnerable to crosses and grabbed the man. Serge drained him from the neck and then tossed him over the railing. The ones who remained, Valmont put into a thrall…all but one. The captain, a man who’d taken special delight in torturing Valmont. Many was the time this beast had spilled what little cow’s blood Valmont was given for nourishment, laughing when the blood spilled, unconsumed, on the stone floor. “You fucking animal,” the man growled. Blood trickled down his cheek, blending with his sweat. He pointed his machine gun at Valmont, brandishing a cross with the other. The cross had no effect on Valmont as it once had and he advanced toward the captain. “Stop there!” Pulling the trigger, he let a shower of bullets loose at Valmont, all of which bounced off him as if Valmont were a stone wall. Valmont walked slowly toward him. “I’ll lift this thrall so your remaining men may leave with their lives. The choice is yours. I’ll feed on every last body in this room and won’t stop until you’re a pile of carcasses like your friend over there and these others. Understood?” He lifted the thrall and the men immediately pointed their guns.

105

Sedonia Guillone

“Hold your fire!” Valmont took another step toward the captain, coming close enough to swat the machine gun from his grip. The metal clattered to the floor. “What do you say? You know I can grab you like a piece of cloth and drain your lifeblood.” The man stared at him, the scowl never leaving his face. “If I die, I can’t come back and kill you and the rest of these pieces of shit.” The muscle in his jaw twitched. He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his fear. Valmont feinted toward him, as if coming to feed on him. “Fall out!” the captain shouted. He turned, leading the few remaining Soldiers from the great hall. Pulling a radio from his belt, he called off the guards around the château wall, telling them to vacate. Valmont stood fists clenched and watched the Soldiers vacate his castle. The only one who remained was the captain, who’d picked up Brendan’s body, leaving the others who’d fallen. He turned and glared at Lascaux, his gaze then roving over Darelle, her guardians and up to Serge who stood on the staircase. “This isn’t over, you bastard,” he growled. After several moments, he heard the grind of engines, the Soldiers’ vehicles pulling out of the driveway, followed by stillness. When they were gone, Serge glided down to Valmont’s side. Valmont turned to him, the reality that Serge had almost been staked hitting him. He pulled Serge into his arms, slipping his fingers into Serge’s hair. The silkiness caressed his fingertips. Darelle stood nearby, with her guardians. Their clothing was torn and stained from fighting but they, too, were, unharmed. And, God’s teeth, he was free! Gareth and Kane went to the doors, bolting them shut just as the last motor faded in the distance. Valmont pulled Serge closer. “I’m so sorry, my friend,” he murmured into Serge’s ear. Thankfully, he felt Serge return the embrace, strong arms closing around him, a hand cradling the back of his head. For over six hundred years, Serge had risked his life for this moment and he knew it. He could never repay such loyalty. But whatever he had, he would share with him. After several long moments, Valmont finally disengaged from the embrace and turned to Darelle. She stood between her guardians, her arms linked with theirs, watching him. Her huge blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. He walked the few steps over to her and stood in front of her, gazing into those luxurious pools. He couldn’t deny the desire she churned up within him, but unlike those previous times, he knew now he loved her. She was happy with her guardians and he would not try to possess her. He wanted only her happiness. Taking in the vision of her bottom lip trembling, the sorrow and guilt rioting in her eyes, he smiled. “There is no need for all of that, petite.” He squelched the urge to reach out and touch her cheek.

106

Darelle’s Trinity

To his surprise, she took his hand and kissed it. She held it for one more moment before releasing him. “Thank you, Valmont,” she whispered. He bowed his head. She certainly had nothing to thank him for. He looked up again, surprised at the tender way she looked at him. Sadly, he knew it was time to let her go again. “Come, petite, it’s time for you to go home. I’ll walk you out.” He linked his arm through Serge’s, relieved to see his friend was unharmed by the abuse he’d suffered. Serge walked at his side, holding his arm close to his body. Together with Kane and Gareth, they unbolted and opened the large front doors, standing for a moment in the massive doorway, watching the night to ensure that all the cars belonging to the Soldiers were gone. Only Kane’s car remained on the other side of the bridge. Once they reached the vehicle, Lascaux turned to Darelle. He dared to reach out and cup her cheeks in his hands. His touch was warm and tender. She looked up at him into the simmering dark eyes, surprised to find the gaze in them as tender as his touch. The way he leaned toward her, she thought he was going to kiss her. He did, pressing his lips gently on her forehead, then releasing her. “Thank you, Darelle. You’ve changed my…life, so to speak.” He glanced over to Serge who stood a few paces away. “I am much more appreciative of the gifts I have.” Darelle swallowed hard. The vampire standing before her was a complete transformation from what he had been. Well, almost complete. The raw sensuality he possessed still radiated from deep within him. She wouldn’t have wanted that to change. Now that dark erotic quality only added to his beauty, rather than making him frightening. “I would not have chosen for you to suffer the way you did,” she said softly. He nodded. “I know that.” He winked at her then brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “Go on now. You have the rest of eternity to experience.” He stepped back, opening the passenger door for her. She continued to look at him. “I’ll send help. We have Coeurs Éternels who can come and help clean up here.” Valmont nodded. “Thank you, Darelle.” Gareth came around and put the seat forward. With a gentle hand on her arm, he assisted her into the car. Through the window, she saw him and Kane exchange brief handshakes and thank yous with Lascaux and Serge. Gareth climbed in and was about to close the passenger door when Lascaux stayed it. He leaned down and looked at her. “If you need us, petite, we’re here. And I mean not only you but les coeurs as well.” She nodded. “Thank you.” Valmont stood back. 107

Sedonia Guillone

Kane and Gareth closed their doors and Kane started the engine. In the next moments, they were heading down the long drive, on the way back to Paris. Darelle sat in the middle of the backseat, her hands in her lap, wishing her beloved guardians were not filling the air with a dark sense of distress. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest and for the first time in hundreds of years, she worried that Kane and Gareth were angry with her. Hoping they would eventually speak, she sat, simmering in their uncomfortable silence until she could no longer wait. “My lords, you are both unnaturally quiet. Please talk to me. You’re making me fear that you’re angry with me.” “I’m not angry with you,” Gareth muttered. They were still silent, brooding. Kane almost never brooded in all the centuries she’d known him. It must be serious. “Is it because I can fight too?” Kane glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Of course not, Darelle. We’re all proud to have a priestess who’s also a kung fu master.” “Then what? Please, talk to me.” Gareth, too, glanced back at her, his brow creased. “I’m afraid.” “I’m not angry either, Darelle,” Kane said. “But I share my brother’s fear.” Relief washed through her. She sat forward and put a hand on the strong cap of Gareth’s shoulder. “What are you afraid of, my loves?” She heard the confidence in her voice, the almost silky tone in which she’d asked it and blinked. She’d almost reminded herself of Colette. To her joy, he put his hand over hers and sighed. “Well, let’s see. Where to begin? First of all, Minhotep is alive and well, thanks to us. You have fed on him. In spite of the fact he was mortal at the time, he was thousands of years old and a very powerful personality. God only knows what imbibing nearly all of his life force could be doing inside of you. I don’t want to lose my sweet, beautiful Darelle.” “Nor do I,” Kane said. To her own surprise, Darelle chuckled, a throaty, sensuous sound. She fell silent, wondering at the new way she was responding to Gareth and Kane’s concerns. It was in that moment, the realization hit her. She had absorbed some of Valmont’s essence into her soul. She sat silently, searching inside herself for the sexual shame and guilt she had carried for centuries. Suddenly, her memories of Valmont’s erotic thrall over her no longer had the power to shame her. She didn’t feel proud or ashamed. But her body did begin to thrum with desire. She smiled to herself, her body weakening, aching for her guardians to enthrall her both at once, to fill her completely, every part of her that could be filled. “You haven’t lost me, my lords,” she purred. Gareth turned and looked at her.

108

Darelle’s Trinity

She smiled at him and took his hand, putting it over her right breast. The warm strength covered it, sending tingles through her blouse and brassiere. She urged his fingers to close more firmly. A low growl escaped his throat. “Don’t you feel my heartbeat still, my lord?” she whispered throatily. “I am still one of you.” Gareth looked at her, his lids heavy over his eyes. His breath rasped heavily. “You are different, though, Darelle. I see it.” She nodded and glanced at the rearview mirror. Kane looked at her a moment, then grinned. Understanding filled his brown eyes. “I don’t think we need to worry, brother,” he said. Darelle returned his smile, understanding in a deeper way, Kane’s mischievous sensuality. “Non, my love,” she said to Gareth, “you needn’t worry. I’m changed for the better. Valmont certainly had good traits to pass on. And he passed them on to me.” She lifted Gareth’s hand from her breast and held it to her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue over the pads of his fingers. He moaned softly, his breathing growing huskier each second. She looked up him. “Just wait until we get home,” she said in a silky voice. “I will show you just how I’ve changed.”

109

Sedonia Guillone

Chapter Thirteen Kane whipped the car into the underground parking of Le Coeur. He ground to a halt with a squeal of tires. “You drive like a madman,” Gareth growled. “I want her too, but it’s not our way to endanger lives.” Kane grinned at him as he flung open his door and pushed the seat forward to help Darelle out of the car. “There was barely another soul out on the roads and you know it. The few we did see passed us as if we were standing still.” He smiled down at Darelle and reached out a hand to her. She smiled back up at him and accepted his hand. “Mmm,” she purred at the contact of his flesh with hers. Before rising from the car, she brought Kane’s fingers to her mouth and suckled lightly on each fingertip as she’d done earlier with Gareth. Kane groaned, his dark eyes falling to a dusky hue. “Darelle, I sense a wildcat unleashed in you, not that you’ve exactly been frigid all these years.” She lifted her mouth from his fingers and looked up. Gareth now stood behind Kane, his gaze trained on her as intensely as his brothers. “Come, Darelle.” His voice rushed through her like liquid heat, pooling in the core between her thighs. Squeezing his hand, she let him pull her along. The motion propelled her forward and she fell against him, her hands splayed on his chest. Kane’s arms closed around her, pulling her closer to him. He bowed his head down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. He slipped his tongue between her lips, swirling it hungrily against hers. She closed her eyes, her body melting against his. She molded her soft curves along the length of his frame, grinding her pelvis in tight circles against his rapidly swelling erection. Kane’s kisses mounted in their fervor and he pulled his lips away to nibble her jaw and suckle the tender skin on her neck. Behind her, a second pair of hands smoothed over her buttocks, squeezing them over her skirt. Gareth closed in behind her, the hardness of his body pressing sensuously into her back. Tilting her head back, she gripped his triceps, delighting in the hard flexing of the muscles beneath her fingertips. “Enthrall me, my lords,” she breathed. “I beg you.” Gareth’s hands closed gently but firmly on her upper arms. Kane’s lips froze on her neck. He lifted his mouth away and stepped back, looking at her. Gareth turned her slightly around to face him, his eyes swirling with a mixture of his arousal and concern.

110

Darelle’s Trinity

“Darelle,” he said in a low voice, “did I hear you correctly? Did you just ask us to put you in a thrall?” Darelle’s lips tingled, swollen from Kane’s passionate kisses and she wiped the heel of her hand across her bottom lip. Slowly, she nodded. “Oui. That is what I asked you.” Her body hummed with arousal. “Why do you look so troubled?” He drew his brows together. “You are never to be our slave, you know that.” Darelle put her hands on his chest. She stepped closer to him and smiled, holding his gaze with hers. “How can I possibly be a slave if I am asking you for what I want?” Kane cleared his throat. “She’s got a point, Gareth,” he said. Gareth shot him a look. He turned back to Darelle and cupped her cheek. His dark eyes smoldered and his breathing was slightly ragged in spite of his concern. “Why do you wish us to enthrall you?” Kane huffed softly but did not object to the question. She looked at him, feeling a small wave of shyness pass through her. She took a deep breath, preparing to speak of something that had haunted her for centuries. “Lascaux…Valmont…” she hesitated on the vampire’s name. He had sired her and then she, in turn, sired him. The relationship was, by nature, strange. “When I was still mortal, he would put me in thrall. He always remained hidden away. I never saw him when it happened. He used the connection he had with my mind.” Gareth nodded solemnly. “We both knew that,” he answered softly. “Colette told us even before we came to retrieve you from him that you would probably be ashamed of this, even though you probably derived pleasure from it.” The sympathy in his voice moved her to tears. All this time, her guardians had known of her shame and guilt. Her bottom lip trembled. “Oui,” she said, “I have felt ashamed of this and worried that you would hate me for it if you knew.” Kane’s hand cupped the back of her neck, his strong fingers lacing into her hair. “God’s teeth, Darelle, how could we ever hate you for anything? Especially something so human.” She whipped her gaze up to his. “You mean you don’t hate me?” A lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t finish. Gareth actually smiled. “Darelle, with all that we’ve shared for over six hundred years, with everything that you mean to me and Kane, how could we? You are our precious girl.” He pulled her into his arms and held her. Darelle felt the press of his lips on her hair. “I love you so much,” she whispered. The closeness of his hard masculine body against hers reawakened her desire. Valmont’s blood now flowed in her veins and even when she’d need to feed again, the essence of the vampire would remain. She was glad. Gently, she lifted away so that she could look into both Gareth and Kane’s eyes. “So, my lords, what say you? Will you put me in your thrall? I want to experience it

111

Sedonia Guillone

without shame and guilt. I want to be completely at the mercy of the men I love. I will do anything for you.” Her words elicited a soft groan from Gareth. Kane’s response was to slide his hands around her hips and pull her backside against his groin. “Let’s get on with it,” he rasped out, grinding his erection against her buttocks in tight circles. “Very well,” Gareth murmured. Kane put his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around, never breaking the contact of their hips grinding together in an erotic, fevered rhythm. His hands tightened gently but firmly and he bore his gaze into hers, his chocolate-hued gaze boring into hers through the sheen of desire glazing it. Then came the sensations—the familiar wild tingling through her entire body, the swirling of deep, soul-wrenching desire through her womb, swelling her breasts, weakening her body to a pliant mass of nerves. You’re all mine. Kane’s voice thrummed through her, the way Valmont’s voice had all those centuries ago. Only now, she didn’t feel frightened at all, only aroused beyond her wildest imagination. You belong to us both. Gareth’s voice added to the increasing vibrations humming in her nerve endings. Her nipples tingled madly, tightening against the silk cups of her brassiere. She moaned and sagged back against Gareth, her body so weakened from desire she was no longer able to stand up. Gareth captured her in his arms and Darelle felt her sudden weightlessness. “We’re going to our bed now,” he growled, his voice deep and husky. The mere timbre of his voice sent more waves of erotic vibration coursing through her. The sensation pooled in her slit, throbbing and aching for her guardians’ touch. She opened her eyes partially, her lids sensuously heavy, watching the shadowy halls pass by her vision. She heard Kane push open the heavy door to their bedroom where the scent of sandalwood always perfumed the air. Gareth laid her down gently on the bed. When she looked up at him, his gaze was smoldering into hers. Swiftly he pulled off each of her boots while Kane undid the buttons of her blouse. Gareth’s hands worked open her belt and the button and zipper of her skirt, which he slid off her in one feverish yank. “Oh, my lords,” she breathed, arching her back off the mattress. Kane leaned over and captured her mouth again, swirling his tongue in heated strokes against hers. One large hand cupped her breast, rolling her nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Gareth pushed her knees apart, spreading her legs wide open. Darelle’s eyes were closed but she heard Gareth’s appreciative groan and felt his thumbs on her pussy lips, spreading her sex wide open.

112

Darelle’s Trinity

She moaned into Kane’s mouth, her hips arching into the air at the first delicious swipe of Gareth’s warm tongue over her opening. He trailed the tip of his tongue to her clit, swiveling in tiny circles over the engorged nub. Heat and pleasure spiraled through her body. She reached up and brushed her fingertips over Kane’s short hair, cupping the back of his neck, warm and strong under her hand. She pulled away from Kane’s kiss, panting. “Let me pleasure you, my lords.” Every ounce of her being wanted to beg them to let her take them into her mouth, to bring them every bit of pleasure she could. Gareth lifted his face from between her thighs, his dark eyes burning like coals. He yanked open the buckle on his belt and then his pants, pushing them down and climbing over her. “Tell me what you have in mind, Darelle,” he rasped, pushing the head of his erection into her opening. She moaned softly, arching her pelvis upward, greedy to have him deep inside her. He was holding back, teasing her, while Kane squeezed both her breasts in his hands. “Whatever you want, my lord.” Gareth sheathed his cock a little deeper. He dipped his head down and kissed her, sliding his tongue against hers. He lifted his lips and scraped her bottom lip gently between his teeth. “What I want is to fuck you.” The words crashed through her heightened senses. She squeezed her vaginal muscles tightly around his shaft, trying to pull him deeper inside. She went to grab his buttocks and pull him inside her, but Kane grasped her wrists, pulling her arms up beside her head, holding her gently but firmly. She tried to tug free and push her body onto Gareth’s cock, but couldn’t move. Kane’s hands tightened on her wrists and he chuckled. “Our little vixen is trying to demand satisfaction, brother,” he said. “I say we make her wait.” Never before in over six hundred years had either Kane or Gareth restrained her. Her body pulsed and throbbed madly with the need for release. Her juices seeped from her swollen pussy, sliding around Gareth’s cock, which remained at a torturously shallow level of her channel. She strained against Kane’s hands, trying yet in vain to bring Gareth deeper inside her. “Please, my lords, I beg you!” Gareth smiled wickedly and slid deep inside her. She released a long sigh of satisfaction, only to cry out when he withdrew again, leaving only the swollen head of his erection just inside her. He laughed, deep and throaty, his broad chest heaving underneath his half unbuttoned shirt. His large hands sank deeply into the mattress on either side of her. The musky scent of sex permeated the air. “Please what, Darelle?” he said, his voice thick with desire, his cock teasing her pussy with tiny thrusts of his hips that barely put him halfway inside her. She gasped and bucked her hips, straining against Kane’s hold. Through her haze of animal want, she heard Kane chuckle. He leaned over and suckled her lips before 113

Sedonia Guillone

pulling away and feathering the tip of his tongue over her throat and then across each nipple. Just enough to make her cry out yet leave her unfulfilled. She bucked her hips against Gareth’s movements, straining and pulling wildly with her hands. “Please, you’re tormenting me!” Gareth leaned over her. He thrust once with his hips, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “You still haven’t said what you want.” He nipped her bottom lip gently then grinned down at her, pulling his cock almost entirely from her. You’re my slave, he growled through their mind link, his deep voice reverberating through her. “I order you to tell me.” The core of strength in his demand sent spikes of heat into her pussy. The sensation gripped her with such force, his words alone nearly made her come. “Fuck me, please,” she whispered. “That’s a little better.” He slid a little deeper inside her. “But not loud enough.” Say it, Darelle. Kane’s voice echoed in her mind, causing waves of pleasure to pound through her. She arched her back. “Fuck me!” Her voice echoed through the bedchamber. Gareth rammed into her, sheathing his cock inside her to the hilt. The impact of his finally filling her after the torturous deprivation sent her spiraling closer and closer to completion. Kane still held her wrists so she was unable to grasp Gareth’s buttocks and pull him deep inside. So she spread her legs as wide open as she could, bucking against him with all her strength. He ground wildly against her clit, supporting his weight on his hands and in moments, her release shattered her. When the spasms had finally passed, leaving her breathless, she sagged underneath Gareth. She looked up at him, smiling. His eyes glittered down at her. Her body thrummed again. He and Kane did not release her from the thrall and her hunger for fulfillment resurged, as strong as it had been before she came. She moaned and thrashed her head. “Don’t stop, my lord. Please, don’t stop.” His lip curled in a grin and he rode her until suddenly he groaned, his muscles tensing and she felt his seed pulsing inside her. Gareth collapsed gently on her, breathing heavily. Kane leaned over and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. Her body still unfulfilled, hungered for him inside her. Gareth rolled off her and looked up at his brother. “She’s all yours,” he said, lazily reaching between her legs and sliding his fingertips teasingly up and down her still aching sex. He pushed gently down on her clit and moved in tiny circles. Darelle moaned and looked up at Kane from under heavy lids. “What do you want from me, my lord?” she breathed. He went up on his knees and started to unbuckle his belt. “Hmm, I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ll let you decide.”

114

Darelle’s Trinity

Darelle sat up and pushed his hands from his buckle, tearing at it with trembling hands. “Let me, my lord, please.” She undid the button and zipper, opening his trousers and releasing the full, swollen erection underneath. The sight of his cock, springing upward toward her, made her mouth water and she slipped his pants down past his hips and buttocks. She grasped the shaft lightly in her hand, sliding up and down over the silky skin and veined muscle. Kane groaned softly, his eyes closing, his hips moving against the rhythm of her hand. After several moments of her caress, a tiny droplet of seed beaded at the tip. “Lick it off,” he ordered softly. Obediently, Darelle leaned over and greedily suckled the moisture, pushing the tip of her tongue into the tiny opening. Kane moaned and threaded his fingers into her hair. The pressure of his fingers on her head demanded silently for her mouth on him and she took him in deeper, the head of his cock pressing against the roof of her mouth. He was so delicious, she moaned. He moaned again, gyrating his hips against her mouth. She slid down deeper, her lips gliding over the velvety skin. His musky aroma filled her nostrils. Her sex pounded and thrummed with the erotic pleasure of going down on him. With her hand around the base, she slid her mouth up and down the shaft in rhythm with her hand. Kane groaned loudly, his fingers curling tighter into her hair. Darelle took a deep shuddering breath, exhaling around the swollen shaft. She loved the taste of him, of the veined flesh and muscle gliding against her tongue. Behind her, Gareth’s fingertips probed lazily into her swollen opening, pulsing in and out with maddening pleasure. His thumb moved against her clit, tilting her dangerously close to another orgasm. Suddenly, Kane pulled out of her mouth. He grasped her shoulders and pushed her onto her back. Straightening, he pushed his pants off the rest of the way and dropped them over the side of the large bed and settled himself immediately between Darelle’s open legs. This time, no one restrained her hands and she grasped greedily at Kane’s hard buttocks, pulling him deeply inside her as soon as he slipped the head of his cock inside her slick channel. “Oh yes, yes,” she panted as Kane moved in and out of her. Gareth lay down beside her. “Is this what you wanted, my love?” he whispered close to her ear. She turned and looked at him, her lids lazy over her eyes. “Yes, my lord. This is all I wanted.”

115

Sedonia Guillone

He leaned over and kissed her softly. “Enjoy, Darelle,” he said, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. He kissed her again, deepening the kiss with languorous strokes of his tongue. His hand moved off her face, wandering downward to her breasts, which he caressed and squeezed. The sensations of his fingertips on her nipples increased her pleasure and the orgasm that had begun building, crested and overcame her. Her body went rigid as the spasms rippled through her sex. Her inner muscles clenched around Kane’s cock and in the next moment, she felt his climax pulsing inside her. She put her arms around him, holding him as he gently collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. “Thank you, my lords,” she whispered, caressing Kane’s short hair. His skin, damp with perspiration, warmed the palms of her hands. The thrall left her body, leaving her pleasantly limp, sunken deep into the soft bedding under Kane’s strong body. “You’ve given me the most beautiful experience. I feel healed.” Kane rolled off her and propped on one elbow. On her other side, Gareth did the same and they both caressed different parts of her body in lazy afterglow. “I have news for you,” Gareth began, lazily toying with her right breast while Kane’s hand slid over her stomach. “Kane and I only kept you in thrall a few seconds each. The rest of the time was you alone.” Darelle’s eyes flew open. “What? But…how? I couldn’t have possibly been so…you know…so wanton…on my own.” Kane chuckled. “You certainly could have, sweetheart,” he said, outlining her bellybutton with the tip of his index finger. “The thrall that you wanted was only fueled by the strength of your desire for us.” She looked at each of them, her heart brimming with love. “I should have known,” she said. “It was locked inside me. I love you both so much, but I didn’t know it could be even stronger.” “You kept some of it locked inside you,” Gareth said gently, curling a lock of her hair around his finger and brushing it against his lips. “You don’t ever need to keep any part of you hidden from us, Darelle.” She nodded. “I see that now. I am so sorry.” Kane laughed softly. With his fingertips on her cheek he turned her face gently to look at him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, “we have all of eternity for you to make it up to us.” Darelle laughed softly and kissed him. Then she lay back, snuggled deliciously between her lovers. She smiled, looking up at the canopy above them, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sandalwood blended with the musk of sexual afterglow. “Yes, make it up to you both. That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

116

About the Author Award-winning multi-published author of erotic romance, Sedonia Guillone spends her days writing deliciously naughty romances—when she’s not cuddling with the man she loves or watching kung fu and samurai films and eating chocolate. Sedonia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com