A/N: I haven't gotten any reviews yet which is a bit disappointing since this is one of my favorite novel-length fanfictions I've written. So please review if you'd gotten a chance to read it!
P.S. It's a vampire-ish romance novel based on a very large series by Christine Feehan, so don't be surprised if you don't understand some things right away. It should explain itself as the story moves along! But if you have questions, let me know in a review and I'll make sure to reply to you!
Chapter Two
Caelan looked at the young woman's face with sheer terror. Vibrant reds soaked her body and the carpet around her. His life had been returned to him, his soul, his heart all to find this. His savior's crumpled body in a heap on the floor. His angel fallen. Tracking the vampire had been his prerogative that night. If he had been faster in getting to his prey, he would have been able to save her. It truly pained him that her reaching for the door, trembling, crying was what brought back the color in his eyes. The first feeling he knew after centuries had been a heart wrenching, twisting fear. Closing his eyes a moment, Caelan looked away from the sight and picked up the responsibility of her heart and lungs, forcing them to work, to keep her soul intact.
Dark One. I will need you this night. My…lifemate has been mortally injured. She will not make the next rising without your talents. His voice echoed over the common Carpathian channel with a tremble. He stood and listened absently as others of his race held back their shock. They thought she would never come to him…
I will come. The other healers accompany me. The response was simple and strong. Caelan held on to it for a moment, letting it echo through his mind. Setting his jaw firmly, he strode to the convulsing body of the vampire. It reached frantically for its head, attempting to replace it on its shoulders, but found that it couldn't, the magic that cut it having been far too strong to combat. Massive holes had been burned into the carpets and walls, the acid hissing as it infiltrating the house, permanently scarring it with evil. Caelan felt rage, real rage fill his chest with heat and he growled vehemently. Grabbing the head from between the vampire's fingers, the hunter threw the it out into the fury of the storm and turned back as a streak of lightning bore down on the orb. He grabbed the twitching arm as the neck began to heal itself and dragged the spasming body out into the yard. With a plunge of his hand, Caelan retrieved the blackened, decaying heart and threw it to the ground. The vampire's body raked at his arms as he held it at bay. Lightning brought a quick end to the grizzly corpse and all its extremities. The rain became a heavy drizzle, washing away the remnants of the kill, the stench.
Without so much as a pause, Caelan returned to the doorway of the home and looked forlornly at the creature thrown before him, unconscious and barely alive. Her breath came ragged, blood spilled from her mouth in a steady flow. Caelan grew nervous and paced in the kitchen. Two wolves watched from the backyard and howled with his distress.
Tell us the damage, Caelan. Shea's voice rang out in his head. She had been a medical doctor in the human world before becoming a Carpathian lifemate. He looked carefully at the angel, sharing the images.
There's a pair of scissors in her back. Shea said, surprised that she still breathed. It seems to be lodged in her lung. Is she bleeding from the mouth? Gurgling? Caelan mentally nodded. He could feel the tension and anxiety rise along the channel.
Heal what wounds you can. We will be there shortly. We fly with the wind. Gregori, the Dark One said quietly, commandingly. Caelan knelt beside his charge and instantly melted into light, seepings into her body's wounds. He closed the cuts and scrapes she had within moments and drove the poison of Vampire blood from her body before sealing the most serious burns. Several cuts marred her face and he dealt with those as well, but soon began to feel light headed. He could distantly feel his brow covered in blood from concentration but stayed with the task. Before he left her body, Caelan examined the scissor wound. It was monstrous, her muscle tissue shredded, bone scraped. Had it merely been thrown into her back, the cut would have been much cleaner, but since she had struggled and fought against the Vampire, the scissors had been dragged and pulled about the wound, making it wider and more dangerous. Following the blades to their point, he saw where the real damage lay. One lung had been punctured deeply and blood filled the organ like a sponge under a running faucet. This wound he could not begin to heal as tired as he was. Reluctantly he left her body and continued to regulate her breathing and heart rate, which was plummeting despite his efforts.
With steady eyes and a set jaw, Caelan sliced a deep cut through his wrist and held it to his charge's mouth. Sending her a compulsion to drink, Rachel's lips closed softly over the proffered wrist and suckled lightly. Caelan's body shivered and tightened in response. He pulled away his wrist and she whimpered lightly for a moment, her eyes fluttering with pain. Caelan rubbed a thumb over her cheek, gently moving her aside for him. With a gentle swirl of his tongue, the hunter pierced Rachel's neck with sharp, pearly incisors. Taking as little as possible, he savored what little drink he could afford to take. Gently, he closed the wound and sat back on his heels, licking his lips. His body shuddered as the warmth and magic began to run through his veins. He could feel their private channel begin to open in her mind and ran his tongue over his fangs absently, trying to taste every drop of her he was teased with. He could feel the burden of her heart and lungs on his conscience lift a little as the Ancient blood began to flow through her veins. It was the only thing Caelan had left to give her until more experienced healers arrived on the scene.
A cold, slight breeze pulled through the door and Caelan opened his eyes, looking up at the healers who had come to his aid. He bowed his head dutifully at Gregori who filled the entryway. Francesca and Shea, the other two rather gifted healers of their race flanked the man with grave concerned etched on their faces.
"That was much faster than I expected," Caelan confessed. His eyes were the only thing that gave away his distress and exhaustion. Gregori regarded him silently.
"Find yourself some nourishment. We'll take care of your woman, old friend," Gregori said calmly. He was already inspecting the crumpled form on the ground. Francesca smiled soothingly at Caelan and Shea moved in to remove the scissors with doctoral experience, instructing Francesca to get her certain things from the drawers in the kitchen. Caelan left the desolate home with a strange, screaming numbness filling his mind. He heard the healing chant begin along the Carpathian channel and lent his voice to the healers' efforts. Caelan shifted into a wolf mid-stride and ran with his pack across the forests to find the next home where nourishment lay in soft, warm beds.
Caelan returned to the abode with full strength and high hopes. The regulation of his angel's vital system had become easier with every passing minute as the healers worked on her wounds. Her heart no longer needed help, but the sun was soon to rise and all the healers felt it in their bones as lethargy began to haunt their complexions.
"She'll be fine, I'm proud to say," Shea said wearily. She stood at the sink, cleaning the utensils she'd used to remove the scissors and stop the bleeding.
"Is it safe to move her?" Caelan asked quietly. Gregori nodded. Caelan held out his wrist to the healer and allowed the man to feed freely from his veins, having been more than replenished in the neighboring homes. The women refused politely, still made a bit queasy at the idea of feeding from any but their lifemates.
"I owe you a great deal, my friends," Caelan said, gazing lovingly at the woman lying before him.
"She's still wholly human, Caelan. Just don't try to pack her wounds with soil," Shea said with a tired smirk. She pushed her red hair from her face and followed the others from the house. As she reached for the doorknob to shut it behind her, she turned back to Caelan. "Her lung needs to be drained of blood and her skin washed."
"Don't worry, young one. She'll be taken good care of," he said as he brushed a wave of blonde from Rachel's face. Shea nodded and shut the door behind her.
As the others left, Caelan gently touched Rachel's mind with his and helped her cough up what blood was left in her lung. Her eyes shot open with the pain and she wretched violently on her doorstep as the pain of her body pulled the blood from her throat and lung. She immediately fell unconscious to the floor once again and Caelan slowly, cautiously left her to the task of breathing unaided. Her body picked up its vital functions with a regular pace once again, simply raw and sore now. Caelan visibly relaxed and pulled his angel into his arms, easily lifting her into his chest and embrace. Her warm breath falling gently on his neck and cloak made his heart swell with joy. Before leaving the wretched site, Caelan made sure to replace the burned carpet and walls with a wave of his hand and pushed away her physical illness.
Silently, he carried her up the stairs to the large bedroom that was hers and laid her gently upon the deep blue, feather down comforter. A wet towel appeared in his hand and he began to caress her face and neck, rubbing away the blood that stained her features. It would have been easy to will the evidence away from her skin, but Caelan enjoyed the intimacy of physically washing away the remnants of the night. He willed away her burned, ruined clothing and washed her stomach, hips and thighs gently. Her skin was creamy and pale, bright in the dim light of the room. The hunter longed to touch her skin and feel the shiver of anticipation run up his spine. With gentle fingers, he traced her side but pulled away to restrain the erotic images that were invading his mind. Replacing her stark nakedness with a black silk nightdress, Caelan shut the windows and doors, feeling dawn stalk the minutes as they came and went. He pulled his own thick, black drapes over the windows and settled in a chair to watch his angel sleep, and to sleep himself. Even as he was drifting away from consciousness, he wove safeguards around the grounds and bedroom, making sure every precaution was made. Dawn crept up on the lonesome home, and birds chirped cheerfully in the young rays, as if they knew all was well and right again.
A strong grip held her arm in place as she whimpered to escape. Unable to see the boy who assaulted her, she screamed into a palm that pressed down on her mouth. Two boys were giggling around her, and she could feel their eyes moving over her, lapping her up with sick fantasies. The hallways were deserted since school was just let out for the year. Most of the teachers were gone already too. Rachel had stayed behind to gather things from her locker so she could do it comfortably, without other kids looking at her. They'd grown up together, yet they still couldn't get over her being blind. Ninth grade, and they still couldn't help but stare.
"Stop squirmin'! She can't tell who you are. We don't have any classes with her or nuthin," one of the boys said. She felt him spit on her cheek and laugh dumbly with his friend. The lashes of her eyes were weighed down with tears that fell in a steady stream down her face. She screamed against the palm smashed against her lips, a clenched fist punched her in the face hard and she fell to the ground. One of them was on top of her before she knew what was happening. She felt dizzy, warm droplets of blood falling from her nose. A hand crushed her mouth again and she began to tremble and pull at the cool tiles that simply slipped from her fingers as she tried to crawl away from the boys.
A strong, anxious hand pulled down the back of her sweat pants she neglected to change out of after gym class and another tangled itself in her ponytail, holding her head up high so she could barely breathe. The one holding her hair struggled with something and forced her jaw open, holding it firmly. Rachel felt something fill her mouth, choking her violently. Grimy, oily fingers ripped at her underwear and she heard jeans unzipping. Raising her hands to claw that the ones holding her mouth and neck only hurt more as one of the boys rushed his hips into hers. Tears streamed down her face as she meekly called for help, the boys' voices echoing in her skull.
Caelan's eyes fluttered open and he peered about the room, searching for disturbances near the home and in it. All seemed peaceful and still in the night. He heard a wolf cry out for the pack and another answer the call. A small smile tugged at his face as he thought about the strength of the pack. His thoughts faded peacefully as he stood and crossed the room to his lifemate's side. Her eyes were tightly shut and her fists clenched the sheets. Immediately, worry crossed Caelan's face as he knelt down beside her. He searched her mind and found the images that daunted her and he bared his teeth.
"What has happened to you, my angel?" he asked gently, sadly. He laid his mind like a fog over hers and pulled the images and memories away from her thoughts, leaving a peaceful dark for her to rest in. The laughter of men, many men young and old echoed through his head as he saw her memories, felt her fear. He could feel her heartbeat and breath in those moments of pain, emphasized by her black world. "Rachel," he soothed her softly, his voice like silk. He caressed her jaw, anger and protectiveness swelling in him. Why hadn't he been able to find her sooner? To help her sooner? He should have been searching for her. He should have devoted his life to her as soon as he felt her presence in the world. As emotionless as he was, he hadn't understood what was happening. Thousands of years had past since he'd felt any semblance of emotion and even when he heard her cries in his mind, a breeze barely noticed, he felt nothing at all. It was the sight of her that had awakened him after so many long, dark centuries. Caelan's gaze settled on her neck, the pulse slow and faint bumped against her skin. He licked his lips and looked away. He'd had enough to last him a few days more without feeding, but her blood called to him like a siren to a sailor.
Caelan left the bedroom and paced the hall. He leant heavily on the railing of the first floor staircase and looked absently down the stairwell. Glasses lay broken in two upon the carpet near the stairs. Glasses. Could she see after all? Caelan glided smoothly to the carpet and looked curiously at the blue and black frames. With a thought he repaired them and felt magic vibrate in the lenses. They glinted peculiarly in the light of the hallway. Caelan returned to the bedroom, shut the door quietly and sat down in the velvet cushioned, antique chair he had slept in the night before. He turned the glasses in his hands trying to decipher what had been done to them, but could not find a pattern in the magic woven that could be unwound. Whoever made this weave was a true master.
Caelan was drawn to Rachel's eyes as they opened and he stilled himself calmly, predatorily. She didn't seem frightened or confused, but the hunter could feel her pulse push harder through her veins. Her thumb rubbed the comforter absently and Caelan felt her accept that it was her own bedroom. He couldn't help but let a small smile soften his lips as he watched her. Her eyes took his breath away. They were large and round and beautifully lashed, her eyebrows the perfect shape to frame them. The lightest ice blue hue he had ever seen glistened in the dim light, almost glowing with brightness. They were sharp and crystal-like, but unseeing of normal things. He could tell she could see other things, though. She could see magic.
Rachel's hands ran softly over the comforter, trying to find her glasses. Her lips parted as she searched in vain over the comforter, the nightstand, her pillow and even the floor where they may have slid away from her. She knew that the events of the night before would be real if she couldn't find her glasses. They would be broken apart in the kitchen, she found herself remembering. The thought dampened her spirits drastically. Those glasses had let her lead a more normal life. They had taken almost two years to make. Her eyes scanned the room blindly steady as she caught a wild fragrance drift across the air.
A presence was in the room, she could tell. It was calming, gentle but a powerfully dangerous presence. Reaching out to the one thing she could see, a safeguard woven just above her pillow, Rachel pulled a strand of magic from its pattern. The semblance wavered and rippled in the air as Rachel turned from it and began to work a new pattern with the strand. It seemed never to be too short or too long for her purpose, but exactly what she needed it to be. Her fingers worked expertly like a child who played Jacob's Ladder. She wound the strand around her fingers, tying knots and new patterns like a makeshift dream catcher. Pushing the new spell into the air, she held onto it for a moment by the end of the strand that hung from the middle of the pattern. She tugged lightly at it to make sure it was tight and high in the room, slowly revolving and glistening above her head. With a little teasing pull, she let the magic rebound into the pattern, spreading the weaving across the room, filling the edges, nooks and crannies. The pattern began to settle over the room. Rachel was left staring at the impression of a man in her weave, sitting in the chair near the foot of her bed. She could see the glint of her glasses react to the magic that fell over his hands.
"I can see you," she said with a flirting smile accenting the curve of her lips. Caelan shuddered. She was almost teasing him. The first words he ever heard her say, and she chose to tease him. "I'd like my glasses back now." Rachel extended her hand steadily and Caelan glided silently to her side, allowing the glasses to roll from his fingertips to hers, a brush of his knuckles against her palm made a cyclone of butterflies beat their wings within her stomach for a fleeting moment. She quickly replaced her glasses on her face and looked up at Caelan with seeing eyes, lips parted in silent surprise.
His cool skin and jet-black hair gave stark comparison to golden amber eyes that shifted like an animal's in the night as he watched her features change with thought. His hair was cut at a crisp length, spiked in a wind-whipped fashion. He seemed to sport no imperfections, only his ears slightly pointed, elvish with a small feather earring falling from one lobe. He smiled softly at her, a flash of white filling the void of his mouth with a wolfish grin that fit the rest of his demeanor all too well. Rachel licked her lips and felt her heart thump just a little too fast as she blushed a bright rosy pink. Those amber eyes could capture and tame the wildest beast, the eyes of an animal in men's skin and she felt the power radiating from his body like waves of heat.
"You should rest, my angel," Caelan said warmly. Her eyes had become a mossy green with her glasses to frame them. Caelan was enraptured by her face as she took in his. Sleep moved soothingly into her eyes and she immediately began to lower her lashes, fluttering them like a monarch's wings in a gentle breeze. A gentle hand helped ease her into the pillows once again. She watched those eyes as he spoke soothing words to her and never once did they blink. She felt him remove her glasses and set them next to her on the pillow, faintly felt his hands brush away the locks of hair that fell messily about her shoulders. The world became dark and still as she drifted away to dream about those eyes, amber and delicious in the dim of her bedroom.
A/N: Remember, if you have questions or are confused, let me know in a review and I'll reply an answer for you! I hope you're enjoying the story so far!