The Forsaken by Laura Thalassa


  This was it.

  Chapter 5

  “You … drive like shit,” I said as Andre swung himself off the bike. We’d stopped at the edge of some farmer’s field after driving out of town.

  I sort of slid off the motorcycle. Andre caught me and steadied me on my feet. “You okay?”

  I nodded my head, then shook it, my helmet sliding around as I did so. My stomach was roiling and my body was shaking from the last half hour’s near-death experiences. All twelve of them. I’d counted.

  After narrowly escaping getting hit by an oncoming car, Andre had continued to weave in and out of traffic and blow through lights, regardless of their color. I discovered tonight that a vampire’s reflexes were fast enough to avoid what should’ve been unavoidable collisions. Fifteen minutes ago we’d managed to ditch all our stage-five clingers. Not that it stopped Andre from driving like a crazy person.

  Frowning at me, said vampire pulled my helmet off. “Are you sur—?”

  I took a couple staggering steps away from him and vomited up the bloody dinner I’d just eaten. Pasta: one; Gabrielle: zero.

  “Soulmate.” Andre knelt next to me and placed a hand on my back.

  I took in a couple deep breaths and inhaled. “I’m okay.”

  “You are not okay.” The back of Andre’s hand went to my forehead.

  I brushed it away. “I’m not ill, just carsick.”

  “You should eat something.”

  My stomach cramped up at the thought. “No!”

  Andre glanced at me sharply.

  I cleared my throat. “I mean, no,” I said, this time a bit more calmly. I stared across the field. “What are we doing here?”

  Andre followed my gaze. “I wanted to check in with you before we continued.”

  I took in several deep breaths. “Does that mean I have to get back on that thing again?” I asked, nodding to the bike.

  Andre didn’t say anything. Instead he brushed my hair from my face, a small crease forming between his brows.

  How gentle he was when it came to me. This same man who hadn’t flinched when we’d been shot at earlier. This man who was willing to cut down every one of my enemies.

  He headed for the small storage compartment at the back of the bike. From it he pulled out a bottle of water and sauntered back over to hand it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking the bottle from him. I took several long, deep swallows, which went a long ways towards calming my stomach. Food might not agree with me at the moment, but water still did.

  “We need to find shelter,” he said.

  Meaning we would, in fact, have to get back on the bike. Oh joy.

  I cast a hateful glance at our ride. “How long will I have to be on it?”

  His lips thinned.

  “That long?”

  “I’m sorry, soulmate; I don’t know where we’ll end up or how many miles lay between here and there.”

  Ah. Right, I’d almost forgot about the seers we had to dodge. I could already tell it was a tricky business, getting somewhere you needed to go without really knowing how you’re going to get there.

  His face became grimmer. “That was the Politia earlier.”

  I breathed in and out through my nose. “I figured.” Nothing more needed to be said. My four months spent working with them had all been for nothing.

  “Caleb …” I couldn’t finish the thought.

  Don’t trust anyone. Not even me.

  “He has his duty and we have ours.”

  I nodded, pressing my mouth into a tight line. I had to face the facts: my former partner and friend—the guy I’d solved a case with only last week—was likely hunting me as well.

  An equally terrible thought hit me. “Do you think Oliver and Leanne hate me?” I asked.

  “Soulmate, how anyone could hate you is beyond me,” Andre said.

  That was laughable, considering our situation.

  Seeing that I needed a bit more reassurance, Andre stepped in close, and his fingers lightly touched my cheek. “No, I do not believe they hate you. They already knew your secrets. If their friendship is true, as I suspect it is, nothing between you will have changed.”

  It seemed so simple, so obvious when he put it that way. Too bad I still had my doubts.

  “Now,” he said, his thumb brushing my lower lip, “are you ready to continue?”

  I sucked in a breath and nodded. I could beast this thing. I picked up my discarded helmet and followed Andre back over to the bike. Around us, the shadows rippled as wind tore through the fields. It lifted my hair, as if trying to tug me away with it.

  On its own, the world was a strange place, with its own beguiling magic. And it had me bewitched completely.

  It took us another hour to find shelter, but this time I actually enjoyed the trip. Andre had stopped driving like a maniac, and if anything, he was being too careful. Someone was feeling guilty.

  The fields eventually gave way to woods. These were the lands that birthed many of the fairytales I knew. I eyed them warily as we passed them, waiting for something to happen. I kept envisioning monster roots shooting out and wrapping themselves around me before dragging me away.

  Paranoia had obviously taken over my life.

  Suddenly, Andre veered off the road.

  “Whoa, what are we doing?” I asked.

  If he heard me, he chose not to respond.

  He wove the motorcycle between trees, some low-hanging branches snapping as they got caught on the bike.

  Oh God, this was going to awaken all sorts of buried claustrophobia. I pressed my eyelids closed as we passed between them, my earlier nausea stirring once more.

  We didn’t drive for too much longer. As soon as we came upon a rocky outcropping, the bike slowed to a stop. Andre killed the engine, standing to flick the kickstand out.

  “Why have we stopped?” I asked, still holding onto his torso.

  “Because, little mate, we need to rest.” Andre hopped off the bike, his feet crunching into the brittle leaves that covered the ground.

  Reluctantly I slid off the bike and removed my helmet, shaking out my hair with a hand while Andre opened the trunk.

  I cast a glance at our surroundings. Another bloody freaking forest. I was beginning to hate nature. Even now we could be in the same woods where Hansel and Grettle almost got eaten by the evil witch. Bet that fairytale was true.

  I bet siren tasted good, too.

  Andre took out our bag, and from it, he pulled out …

  “Is that a tent?”

  “It is,” he said.

  “What are you doing with it?”

  “Tonight we’re camping.”

  “Here?” I waved at our surroundings. Things happened in forests like these. Altars grew out of the ground. People disappeared. Mythical creatures made appearances.

  “Here,” he confirmed. Andre was already hauling the tent makings apart.

  “But … but what about the sun?” I was officially drawing at straws—although this was a legitimate concern.

  “I’m not that delicate, soulmate.”

  “And werewolves?”

  The edges of Andre’s lips curled. “I don’t smell dog. I think we’re safe.”

  I warily eyed the tree next to me, earning me a laugh from my soulmate.

  “Believe it or not,” Andre continued. “I’ve done this before. For the moment, we’re safe.”

  I guess that was that.

  I went over to try to help him put our makeshift home together, but he shooed me away. “Soulmate, let me be your champion for a while.”

  “Champion?”

  Andre sighed as he slid poles through the material. “Your knight, your defender. No one remembers these things anymore.”

  “Oh,” I said, then furrowed my brows. “So you’re defending me from what, pitching a tent? Give me a little more credit than that.”

  He snapped a pole into place. “Women taking men’s words the wrong way,” he muttered, “now that’s
one thing that’s remained constant over centuries.”

  I swatted him on the arm, causing him to grin.

  “I know that you’re more than capable of doing this,” Andre said. “Doesn’t mean I want you to.”

  He removed the holstered sword slung across his back then shrugged off his coat, giving me ample opportunity to gawk at his arm muscles. My skin began to glow. As he went back to putting together the tent, his nostrils flared and his lips twitched.

  If I kept this up, I wouldn’t be able to fit inside it between him and his ego.

  I swiveled away, peering at the peculiar canvas of the tent. The material had a strange iridescent sheen. I crept closer to it and ran my fingers over the material. “What is this?”

  “Refractive silk,” Andre said, sliding another pole in. “It bends light and gives the illusion that we’re invisible.”

  “Whoa.” That was … epically cool.

  I sat on a nearby boulder and watched Andre’s progress. But now that I finally had a moment to process the last several hours, my thoughts strayed back to our getaway.

  I cocked my head. “You’re a bad dude, aren’t you?” Andre hadn’t hesitated once during that escape, and he’d seemed more than equipped to handle both fleeing and fighting. Almost like he’d gone through the motions before.

  He smirked as he slid another pole through the material, though something sad and serious lingered at the back of his eyes. “Quite.”

  I nodded to myself.

  “I am still sorry that you got matched with me.” Andre looked up from his work.

  I met his gaze. “I’m not. I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  His nostrils flared—probably testing the air to see whether I was lying or telling the truth. But if he was looking for deceit, he’d be sorely disappointed.

  I stood up just as the tent went up. My jaw slackened when I saw just how well the thing blended in with its surroundings, especially impressive considering just how large the thing was.

  “Wow.”

  Andre held open the flap. “Come inside, soulmate. I’ll join you in a minute with our things.”

  Death and fighting were forgotten for a moment. I walked over to him and peered inside. Andre watched me closely, a smile dancing on his face and his eyes shining brightly.

  Inside, the material was a velvety midnight blue, and a repeated pattern of fleurs-de-lis and roses had been woven into the material. I could see all this because the walls of the tent glowed dimly, as if by the light of several phantom candles. Even empty as it was, the place had a richness to it, reminding me that my soulmate was an immortal king. Sometimes I forgot.

  I walked up to one of the walls and touched it. The velvet looked … old. Not in a moth-eaten, decayed way, but in a way that spoke of long hours toiling over dyes and looms. For all I knew, Andre had owned this tent for centuries, and the magic woven into it had prevented it from aging. It seemed like something one would invest large amounts of money in once upon a time.

  “What are you thinking about, soulmate?” Andre asked from behind me. I hadn’t heard him enter.

  I turned to see him scrutinizing me with no little amount of desire in his eyes.

  “You,” I said.

  “Oh?” The air thickened with Andre’s spicy scent. His pheromones.

  I took a step back as they hit me. It reminded me that he was a predator, used to hunting down fleeing things.

  We stared at each other across the expanse of the tent, neither sure what the other’s next move might be.

  With an effort Andre tore his gaze away. He sealed up the tent’s flaps then headed to the back of the room.

  Andre shrugged off the enchanted bag, letting it drop to the floor. Metal slid against leather as he then removed his sword from his shoulder and the knives strapped to his sides. He knelt and set the weapons next to the bag.

  Next, he opened the sack and began pulling out furs and blankets—

  Furs? My eyes darted to the fluffy white fleece.

  Mary had a little lamb … then Andre got ahold of it.

  “Soulmate.”

  “Hmmm?” I ripped my gaze from the fur. Andre pulled out a blood bag from his belongings and tossed it to me.

  I caught it. “Mmm, dinner.” I tried not to think about how blood had become more appealing than human food in the last day. I stuck the straw in my mouth and guzzled it down, watching Andre as he set up the bed.

  He placed two pillows down, side by side.

  A bed for us.

  This wouldn’t be the first time I slept alongside him, but something about the way those furs were piled in the corner of this richly decorated tent made me feel like a barbarian queen with barbarian needs.

  My soulmate has needs that only I can satisfy.

  Andre breathed in deep, then pierced me with another heated look. His muscles were tightly coiled.

  I cleared my throat. “I still can’t believe my champion is making me sleep in the woods,” I said, because it seemed like the only way to put distance between this. Us.

  Andre stood—the king who just spent the last twenty minutes readying our camp—and came over to me. He tilted my face to his. “How might I make things better for my sweet siren?”

  Another endearment. And now he was looking at me like he could see through my weak attempts at being rude.

  “A toothbrush and toothpaste.”

  Andre went to our bag and dug out both, presenting me with them.

  I blinked. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” It had been more of a pipedream than an actual request. I’d assumed I’d have to go sans toiletries while we ran. I should’ve known he’d include it if he managed to pack a tent and furs.

  I stepped out of the tent and brushed my teeth several times to get rid of all traces of my earlier sickness. The trees rustled as a gentle breeze stirred them, and a short distance away an owl hooted. This place seemed peaceful and remote enough, but would it hide us well enough for the next day?

  My fears and insecurities came rising to the surface. What if they found us during the day while we slept?

  It didn’t take too much imagination to figure out what would happen. A stake in my heart and Andre dragged into the sun. I might still be human enough to wake up in the middle of it, to be cognizant of the fact that I was getting killed, but Andre wouldn’t. Not until he was fully in the throes of death. The images were horrifying, and I had to force them down. We could only stay the course at this point.

  I headed back for the tent … and promptly ran into it. The thing quivered, like it might go down.

  “Soulmate?” Andre’s disembodied head leaned out of the tent a moment later, his lips twitching like mad.

  “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Andre held the flap open.

  I re-entered, my eyes seeking out the bed before I averted them once more.

  “So, what are our next moves?” I sat down next to it and began to remove my shoes.

  Andre followed me down to the ground, and his hands covered mine as I reached for my boot. Electricity jolted through the touch and our gazes met.

  Breathless, I let go of my shoe, and Andre’s fingers curled over the leather. He removed it for me, his hands skimming over my calves and caressing my ankles as he pulled it off.

  He moved to the other boot, his hands again gliding over my leg. Andre was making shoe removal into some erotic dance, paying homage to my legs.

  My socks were quick to go next, and then Andre’s hands drifted to the knives strapped against me. He unhooked the holsters with the utmost care, setting them on the edge of the bed, next to his own.

  The atmosphere was changing, the air heavy with our barely-restrained desires.

  My pulse tapped out some tune as his scent enveloped me once more. He picked me up and moved me onto our makeshift bed. I dug my fingers into the thick fur beneath me.

  Andre’s body leaned over mine. I stared up at him, feeling strangely vulne
rable. This was what men and women did together, what I wanted to do with Andre. And it felt like a whole world of emotions wrapped itself into every touch and look.

  He found my jacket’s zipper, and he dragged it down. The sound of parting material seemed louder than a fireworks display. With his help, I shrugged the garment off.

  His eyes softened as he gazed down at me. “My love, there are not words to describe all the ways you are magic.”

  My throat constricted. I knew the feeling. He was my deepest wish, my most coveted dream, and impossible though it seemed, he was real. That was the most awe-inspiring magic out there.

  Andre slid a hand behind my head and leaned down until his lips pressed against mine. Almost reverently he stroked my mouth with his own, building a slow, steady fire at my core.

  He tasted like home, like finally, finally my soul could be at ease because he was here. He nipped at my bottom lip, demanding entrance. Half of me wanted to resist, just to see what my demanding boyfriend would do, but the other, dominant half knew I didn’t have that much self-restraint. My lips parted, and his tongue scoured my mouth.

  His body pressed flush against mine, and his hand skimmed down my side. Stopping mid-thigh, his grip tightened as he pulled my leg closer towards him.

  He broke away from the kiss, and his lips skimmed my jawline. “I want to remove every last shred of fabric from your body and mine,” he whispered into my ear, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw while one of his hands traveled down my torso “and bury myself so deep inside you that neither of us can remember where I end and you begin.”

  I let out a gasp at his words, my skin brightening. His fingers trailed along the hem of my shirt before finding the edge of my pants. Deftly they flicked open the top button and delved beneath the fabric of both pants and panties.

  “Andre—” I couldn’t decide if I was going to ask him something, tell him something, or plead with him. In the end I decided I just wanted the sound of his name on my tongue.

 
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