“She is different, because her hatred was provoked. Serpents did things to her, including you. Mark abused her in vile ways, and you watched out of sheer pleasure. And since we’re speaking with the truth, what is the relationship between you and Mark? You’re not his sister and, sadly, you’re not his lover—that would have spared Isolde and me a lot of trouble.”
She juts out her chin, happy to shock. “I’m Mark’s daughter.”
Fuck. I’m speechless and, like all emotions lately, it must show big and shiny in my face. Soraya bursts into laughter.
“See? You would have been responsible for incest if that love potion of yours would have worked on Mark and me.”
“You can’t be serious.” My brain just refuses to accept. “Somebody would have known this, I would have—”
“—Found out, because you’re a big shot assassin spy?” She huffs. “Mark keeps this as low key as possible, because, well, you know how it is—his enemies, like, for example, vampires, could use that against him.”
She laughs harder and harder as she enjoys the sight of my stricken face.
I take her chin between my fingers, bringing my face close to hers. It causes her to lose focus, and I can tell that my closeness heats her skin.
“I despise you, Soraya. For all the lipstick and white powder, you’re ugly on the inside. Even if Isolde would die at the hands of Mark or even your own, your pleasure would be short lived. Because her energy would still be out there, the energy of an angel, capable of self-sacrifice and unconditional love. And I’d be obsessing over her even so, with her dead. Of course she has negative feelings, but they were provoked. She doesn’t take pleasure in anyone’s suffering. And you know what? I would have fallen in love with her even without the love potion. Isolde Jochs—” I emphasize her maiden name, “—embodies everything worth loving in this world. Once a man gets to know her, he doesn’t stand a chance; he’ll fall in love whether he wants to or not, and he’ll be soon hooked like on heroin.”
A feeling of need washes over me as I say this, the need of taking Isolde into my arms and never letting her go. The need to protect her against all evil.
I turn on my heels and barge out the door as I realize this. I fell in love completely, obsessively, I want to hold her against my naked body, make her part of me so that no one can ever rip her away again.
Mark may be her mate, because he imprinted on her, but the emotional high in my own chest gives me a yet bigger claim. My feelings will endure forever, there is no way to break the love that now connects me to Isolde.
I can hear Soraya in the distance, calling after me, “You will pay for this, Prince of Spades! You will both die!”
That might be right. But I’ll protect Isolde until the last second, even if it means wrapping my body around hers, and taking all the torture in her place.
CHAPTER IX – Runaway Lovers
Tristan
THERE IT IS, THE OLD Father’s house. I move fast in its direction, but not fast enough to draw attention with unnatural speed. It’s late at night, a full moon in the sky, the mountain air crisp.
“Good evening, Father,” a group of old women greet from a bench in front of a fence. They gather here in the evening to gossip, it’s one of their few leisure pastimes.
A few girls sauntering down the road greet me in the same way. I respond with a stiff nod, ignoring the excited giggles after they pass me by. The old women whisper something about ‘too young and too handsome,” noticing the girls’ reaction—and thinking I can’t hear them whispering, but hell, I’m a vampire.
There has been talk in the village from the start that the devil came in a priest’s clothes to mess with the young girls’ heads. Soraya resented all those eyes on me, and she could be downright venomous with the young women at church. Still, that didn’t stop them stealing glances, or some even to eye me with an open invitation.
Doesn’t matter. This is all about to end. I’m going to take Isolde and get her out of the serpents’ claws tonight, because the maps that I discovered hidden under a floorboard in the altar reveal a way out through the mountains. They belonged to Father Ruben, and they contain a hidden route the serpents don’t monitor, because they don’t know about it.
The only thing that bothers me is that stealing Isolde away could result in open war between serpents and vampires, but Lord Dracula can always say that Isolde and I eloped without his knowledge or consent. The story hangs by a thread, but I guess Lord Dracula will have to find a solution. He is the great King of Vampires after all. I served him with devotion and loyalty for centuries, but now I met someone I want to serve more. He’ll have to understand, it’s the least he can do for me.
My heart beats faster as I spot Isolde’s chocolate hair glistening in the moonlight by the well in the old Father’s yard. There she is, my sweet white dove. In my ardor I throw down the precarious wooden gate, stalking over to her like a possessed man.
Isolde turns on her heels, startled. There’s an apron around her small waist, and she’s holding a bucket of water.
I can’t control my yearning anymore; I grab the bucket and toss it on the ground, the water spilling. Isolde stares baffled at me as I grab her waist and yank her close, inhaling her scent deeply and sinking a hand in her thick, chocolate hair.
“Mine,” I groan, cupping her head to prevent her from leaning back, and claiming those soft, warm lips. I groan with satisfaction as their sweetness fills my mouth.
She’s stiff in my arms at first, but as soon as I part her lips with my tongue, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss, her body turns to jelly. She moans, her arms going around my neck.
“I’ll be damned,” comes a whisper from behind the gate. It’s the girls from before, I can hear them clearly because of my vampire senses. They’re spying between the fence slabs.
“It’s the young priest and the old Father’s nurse,” they say.
Doesn’t matter who sees us anymore, because I’m taking Isolde out of here. I break our kiss, taking her face in my hands and looking deeply into her eyes.
“Isolde, I need you to know—Soraya and me, that wasn’t real,” I say eagerly, not caring that the girls can hear, too. What matters is that Isolde knows the truth. “The whole relationship story, it was an arrangement from the beginning. She doesn’t mean jack to me, but you—” I press my lips on hers, talking between kisses. “You set my heart on fire, my white dove. I’ll take you away from here and have you all to myself, even if it means living in hiding for the rest of our lives.”
“The rest of our lives is a long time for a vampire and an immortal human that took a serpent’s blood,” she whispers, staring at me with wet eyes full of emotion. But then she shakes her head, getting a grip. “Besides, without the serpent blood I will return to my human age, and I’ll eventually die. In the end, you’ll be alone in this world, forever hunted, forever doomed.”
“I don’t care. What I feel inside—” I hit my chest. “Is worth any sacrifice. I will live out this emotion, Isolde, no matter what it’ll cost me. Besides.” I pull her close again, my eyes boring into hers, full of fire. “I can turn you into a vampire. That means you’ll never see the sunlight again, and you’ll have to stay away from all things silver, but I’ll make sure your sacrifice is worth it, Isolde. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, I’ll be your servant, I’ll put the world at your feet.”