Heh. Don't hate me, people- but this isn't the fight scene you were expecting. No, I've decided that can come next chapter- you know, to spice things up. But you do get a sexy half naked and brooding Black Hat. Can I get a booyah?
Sheila: Get an account, Girl! Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment- I'm trying very hard and I'm glad the effort is working. Yes, yes- I know. Cliffies= No. But they're so much fun to write! If you liked the hints of longing before, then you're going to enjoy the blatant want he's got going on now.
As always, thank you all so much for all of the reviews! Now, on with the story!
She looked so fragile, laying there in the bed. Her small form was swaddled in bandages, the stained cotton strips safely hidden from his sight beneath a thick quilt. It was a patchwork of old fabric, well used and loved. The couple that ran the Inn had been more than willing to part with it once they had realised it would be going to a Priestess.
Sheep. The whole lot of them.
He snorted softly and shifted, gingerly resting his weight against the mattress. As he sat, the old spring filled devil groaned and dipped deeply- upsetting the small woman lying in the middle of it. She twisted about in her sleep, moaning lowly at the sudden movement. He knew it had jarred many of her injuries- he could smell the sharp copper tang of new blood stirring in the heavy air of the room.
He'd known she'd fight back. He really hadn't expected anything less from a Warrior of her stature and success. But the ferocity of her attacks had caught him completely off guard. Many cuts and bruises now marred his skin- many matching her own, though less severe. His healing abilities had kicked in shortly after the fight had begun.
Blunt, strong fingers brushed over her still cheek. Burning golden orbs narrowed thoughtfully as she nuzzled against the touch, heedless of the large purple bruise spreading across one delicate and regal cheek bone. A mark he'd put there in retaliation to the bloody scratches she'd ripped into the skin of hiss temple.
"So strong," He rumbled softly, his whiskey voice shivering through the thick air of their little rented room. "but so easily angered. You have to work on that, Dove. Almost made it too easy for me." Laughter filled the small space a moment later as her teeth clicked sharply together, a near miss for his unguarded fingers. Even unconscious, she was still trying.
Tenacious woman. Infuriating female. Unwelcome temptation.
Everything he'd worked for over the last five months had been put in jeopardy the moment she had appeared, and he'd failed to kill her. His Queen had worried about something similar happening. She had told him pointedly to kill any clergymen, should they appear outside of the Hive. Yet, here he was. Taking care of one of them. Guarding her while she slept, and recovered. From wounds he'd given her, no less.
Growling a curse, he stood and strode across the room to the single window, his powerful hands clutching at the worn wooden frame. Beneath his fingers, the ancient pine began to creek in protest. Splinters bit into his hands, littering his skin with small ruby dots of blood. They smudged across the silver panes as he moved, leaning his shoulder against the wall, instead. His Monster had been sated by her unconscious bleeding form, but the smidgen of humanity he still possessed had been horrified at the damage he'd done to her.
Yet, still he knew she would survive it. Easily, even. Priests weren't entirely human, after all. They moved too quickly, were too strong, and though more like the beasts they hunted then the whimpering, pathetic beings they protected. The Cities had decided long before the war had been fought by them, that anyone who could go up against the Vampire scourge and survive with their mind intact- not once, but continuously!- could never again be trusted.
Such a pity. He knew first hand just how loyal they were to the Church, how dedicated they were to the people they protected. They were no longer the children who had been taken. Upon their very first battle, they had become the job assigned to them. Monster Hunters. The Lords Slayers. Humanities best Weapon.
Call them what you would, it didn't matter. No longer human, they were considered beneath everyone. Shunned for a job they had been conditioned to survive doing.
Drawing in a deep breath, he savoured her sweet cinnamon scent. Had she always smelled so lovely before? Turning slowly, he crossed his arms over his bare bandaged chest, and tipped his head to the side. Watched her breath, slumbering in the safety of sunlight. Longed to cross the distance between them and climb beneath the covers, to pull her close and fall asleep beside the woman he loved with an unhealthy passion.
Her hair was out of its braid- undone sometime in the middle of their battle, to lay free around her. It lay scattered around her on the pillow, matted with sweat, blood, and dirt. He could recall perfectly how it had floated about her face like sinister smoke as she's struck blow after blow against him, her beautiful face hardened by determination.
He wanted to possess her. To keep her rage, her sadness, and her adoration all to himself. Force the memories of anyone but himself from her mind, to turn her against Isaac. To force her to love him back.
The mattress dipped again beneath his weight as he knelt beside her. He hadn't even realised he'd moved, until it was too late.
The glow from his eyes had intensified- to the point where it rivalled the pure honey light spilling through the window behind him. The rays warmed his tanned back as they traveled over him, lazily rolling down to splash over the Priestess. The unhealthy pale colour of her skin was replaced by the sweet, soft gold of sun kissed worship.
Unlike the other injured clergymen he'd seen, she looked strong and resilient as she lay in the middle of a bed far too big for just her- as though the sun had solidified her resolve, even in her dreams. He had never understood where she'd drawn her strength from, even when they had been children.
Leaning down, he placed a sweet, soft kiss on her cut lips- whispering apologies. When she moved to settled against the warm presence, her blindly groping had fell on empty sheets. Across the room, the door clicked shut.
XD This doesn't count as a Cliffy, right...? As always, my Sweeties, your reviews keep me among the living.