EXCERPT: Riley Shane's Blood Rose
An Excerpt from Blood Rose
Riley Shane
Genre: Vampire Paranormal
Length: Novel Plus
Price: $7.99
http://www.loose-id.com/Blood-Rose.aspx
At sixteen, Rose Carrison lost both her parents and her freedom. Since her father's death, Rose has had to pick up the mantle of her family's legacy and guard an object of incredible power, one the monsters who murdered her parents would kill to get their hands on. After ten years on the run, Rose's luck finally runs out. A fate worse than death threatens to consume her. Then, out of the darkness, comes the most unlikely of rescuers...
Grayson van Court is a man skating on the edge of damnation. He's a revenant: a powerful, blood-drinking, returned-from-the-dead, magical creature that no other magical species wants anything to do with. For centuries, Gray has bargained and fought for the revenants' right to survive, but his efforts are hampered by his sociopathic mother and the madness that permeates his own soul. When Gray rescues Rose from his mother's machinations, his intention is only to stop the attacks against his people that would surely come if Rose were harmed. But then he sees her, and everything changes. Two people who should never have met soon find themselves fighting side-by-side for the chance at a love that could prove to be their salvation.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: violence.
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“Fucking unbelievable.” Gray continued to curse the Magics, Fearghas, and Isadora as he pressed on through the never-ending hedge of thorns. There was no way to get over or around the damn thing, so his only option was to go right through. His clothes were pretty much rags at this point, and he was cut up from head to toe. A human would have been torn to shreds a long ways back. Even with his supernaturally fast healing ability, Gray was still sliced all over from the thick thorns. He cussed a blue streak as one particularly large thorn stabbed him right in the cheek-and not one of the ones on his face, either.
Gray kept his eyes protected and pushed through more thorns until at last he was blessedly free of what he swore was a mutant hedge. Lowering his hands, he took in his surroundings. He sensed no magical traps, and from everything Gray knew of Cearúil, he wouldn’t “lower” himself to allow nonmagical ones to populate his property, even a deserted one. The shifter king was blessedly predictable that way; Cearúil thought using anything a human could make was beneath him. As for mummy dearest, Isadora wouldn’t have bothered to set traps. She might not have wanted to make it easy for the girl’s protectors to find her, but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t consider booby trapping the place or even placing guards around it worth her while.
All was quiet in the abandoned courtyard, but eyes and ears alone wouldn’t help him find the missing woman. The clear night worked in his favor, and the moon was so bright even a human would have been able to see everything perfectly; that was a plus. Gray stood still, closed his eyes, and opened up senses he rarely dared to use.
The screaming tore through his brain immediately, almost bringing Gray to his knees. He could feel someone’s pain ripping at his mind, and Fearghas’s low laugh resonated in his ears. The smell of dirt and dried human blood filled the air, a sensory loadstone. He opened his eyes and shoved everything but the scent trail to the back of his mind. Before he had taken two steps, Gray was running, yanking open the castle doors and barreling through the great hall and the empty kitchens until he was outside again, racing toward the southern wall. He didn’t spot what he was looking for until he was almost on top of it. It was an unusual mound of dirt near the walled-off southern gate. From the looks of it, the mound of dirt was…
“Gods, Mother. How could you?”
It was a grave. Of course it was. Mad though she might be, Isadora knew exactly what she was doing.
Gray dug into the loose dirt with his fingers, tossing the unnaturally blackened pieces of earth frantically to the side. The logical part of him knew that, even buried in the earth for the past two weeks, the girl was as good as dead. He’d never be able to save her. Nevertheless his horror over what had happened overtook Gray’s rationality. He continued to dig with his hands until he felt flesh under his fingers. He enlarged the hole,then reached down as gently as he could and pulled the woman from the depths of the grave.
It was Rosaline Carrison, all right. She was older now, midtwenties, with skin as pale as death and covered in dirt and dried blood. But it was her. He felt her neck and wrists for bite marks. There were none. Brushing back her long blonde hair from where it had fallen over her eyes, Gray could see them slightly moving back and forth beneath her closed lids.
“You are weak for this woman. Kill her, Fionnlagh, before it is too late.”
Staring down at the woman before him, a sense of calm swept through Gray, pushing Fearghas back into the cage inside his mind. He couldn’t undo what his mother had done, but he had a choice to make. Rosaline Carrison was a partially turned revenant, and it was up to him to either give her the final death or complete her transition.
If a nonrevenant ingested revenant blood, the effects spread through the body like a poison. In an average human, the sickness would eventually wear off. But if someone died with revenant blood inside the body at the height of its potency, the transition would begin. Partially turned humans remained in a deathlike sleep, one filled with agonizing nightmares and searing pain.
Most succumbed to death within hours if they weren’t turned. They needed magic and life to finish the change. Magic was the hardest part, thanks to Fearghas. He’d only wanted himself to be the creator, so he’d bound the essence of revenants’ magic to his soul. It had to be Fearghas who took that final step and made the blood exchange that brought a revenant to their second life. Having taken Fearghas’s power, it was now only Gray and Isadora who could create a revenant. For the second part, blood was life, and human blood the best, but if necessary, a revenant could buy time taking life from the earth, or even another revenant. The former explained how Rosaline Carrison had survived for two weeks. Given the screams he could still hear, he wasn’t sure why she had willed herself to hold on.
Running his finger lightly down the side of her face, Gray was struck by this woman’s-by Rosaline’s-will to survive. He knew what he had to do. There was a good chance that Rosaline, even if she made it through the change completely, would go mad. If she became a threat, Gray would have to eliminate her before she harmed others. But he had to give her the chance. His gut tightened as he looked down at the beauty next to him. She’d make it. By all that was holy, he’d find a way to help her make it safely through.
Gray breathed deep and concentrated on summoning his strength. Creating a revenant took a lot out of him. It was as if the process pulled the magic from his very being, taking from him and giving to the person he changed. Even when he was in good shape, the process left him sapped of strength. Right now it had been too long since he’d last fed. Add that to the blood loss he’d suffered getting to her, and the best option for him would be to wait until he had taken in more blood.
Gray’s fingers clenched involuntarily, closing on a lock of Rosaline’s hair. He didn’t want to wait. Didn’t want Rosaline to suffer for a moment longer than she already had. He pulled her into his lap. Tilting her head back, he leaned down and bit her neck as gently as he could, taking a small amount of her blood. With the magic of the revenants already in her body, her blood would call forth the answering magic within him. The magic only he or Isadora could pass back to her. Magic in the blood, and blood in the magic; the circle would be complete, causing her to change.
The taste of her blood filled his mouth, and all his senses went on high alert. Gods, she tasted sweet. Every person’s blood tasted different to him, but there was something about Rosaline’s that called to him. It was torture for him to pull back after taking just a little. She was too weak for him to take any more, and though his body cried out for him to feed, he quashed his own hunger and licked the wound from his bite to close and seal it. Gray raised his wrist and bit down. As his blood began to flow, he brought his wrist to Rosaline’s mouth. After he made sure his blood was getting down her throat, he brought a hand to her hair and stroked, silently praying she would make it through in one piece, both physically and mentally.
When it was done, he pulled his wrist back and licked his own wound closed. He swayed slightly from the additional blood loss; he really needed to get blood in him soon. Still, as he looked down at Rosaline, he knew he’d done the right thing. The color was coming back into her cheeks, and he could literally feel the magic of being one of his kind flowing through her. It was a magical signature, in a way. Each species’ was unique, and being a witch meant he could identify them all. But this time it was different…personal. He frowned down at the woman in his arms. Yes, this was different. This was more. More what, he didn’t dare ask himself.
After a few minutes, when Rosaline still didn’t awaken, Gray pushed his confusion aside and focused on her. She’d come through the change; he could feel it. Had the strain of being partially turned for so long caused too much damage?
He laid her back on the ground. “Rosaline.” He spoke sharply. “Rosaline Carrison, wake up.” When she didn’t comply, he lightly shook her shoulder. A frown marred her brow; that was a good sign. He looked around, but there was no water nearby, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to slap her.
Mentally tossing everything else aside, Gray went with instinct and did what he hadn’t even realized he’d been longing to do. He kissed her.
There was silence in the darkness. Only fading echoes of the tearing, ripping shrieks remained, and Rose wanted to cry with relief. Her body felt strangely heavy, yet at the same time, she felt like she could jump up and run a marathon. Everything was a whirlwind, yet deathly still. She felt tired and energized, nauseous and starving… She needed something, but she wasn’t sure what. She should open her eyes, but it was as if she couldn’t remember how.
At least that horrible noise had stopped. It was as if a barrier had been erected in her mind, keeping the clawed banshees from tearing into her. Was she dead? No, she couldn’t be. Death wouldn’t leave her feeling like she’d been run over-repeatedly-by a semitruck. She frowned, trying to assess what, exactly, was going on with her body. She was on solid ground; that she could feel. And there was someone next to her.
She felt a pair of lips brush softly across hers, and a faded memory teased her brain. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
The fleeting caress felt heavenly, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. A man whispered her name and told her to open her eyes. Rose wasn’t yet ready to face reality, but the stroke of the mysterious man’s hand through her hair made her feel inexplicably safe. Her eyelids were impossibly heavy, but she managed to lift them. Her vision was blurry, but slowly it focused, and Rose found herself staring into the most beautiful pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen.
There was something familiar about those eyes, but before she could reason it out, the memory was gone. The man beside her moved to help her sit up, and she took in her surroundings. They were encircled by stones that looked as if a good, strong wind would knock them down. Rose knew she’d never been here before. How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was…
Isadora. The knife coming at her. A slash across her throat. Darkness that was far more frightening than death. Rose blanched, felt her throat. It was whole. What the hell? She turned her head sharply and banged right into the man’s jaw. He swore as he fell back a bit, and she blushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“No, it’s all right. Just startled me, is all.” He smiled at her, and Rose was inordinately distracted by the sight. Good Lord, the man has dimples. The adorable feature should have seemed odd on the man’s strong face, with its square jaw, cut cheekbones, and what she knew firsthand were firm lips. But the dimples, combined with the lock of black hair falling over his eyes, added a slightly boyish edge to the man’s otherwise warriorlike body. He looked like a prince from a fairy tale, though her thoughts… She took in the golden skin revealed beneath his tattered clothes. Her thoughts were definitely moving in a far more lustful direction than those of her childhood dreams about Prince Charming. Unconsciously she licked her suddenly dry lips and tasted blood. Her tongue was cut. She’d somehow managed to cut it on one of her…fangs?
She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth to touch her teeth. Fangs. She had fangs. And the bites, the broken rib, her neck…they were all healed. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth made her stomach clench for something far more potent. It was as if she were a-
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod! What the hell happened to me?”
The man was at her side in an instant. He moved too fast to be human, and given the newly acquired mini ice picks she was sporting in her mouth, there was a fair chance he wasn’t exactly one of her friendly neighborhood Magics.
“Revenant!” she cried out.
Rosaline scrambled away from him, and Gray bit back a sigh. He’d been trying to think of a way to gently break the news to her when she’d knocked him in the face. But really, how could he explain to her that she was now one of the very species she’d been running from for the past ten years without making her more terrified than she already must be? He wasn’t going to use his magic to knock her out. Her mind had been through too much trauma already.
“It’s okay,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. He tried to move toward her in a nonthreatening manner, treating her like he would a wounded wild animal.
His approach didn’t have the calming effect he’d hoped. Rather Rosaline narrowed her eyes and gave him an “are you fucking kidding me?” look. Gray bit back a grin. She’d come through all right. The stubborn strength of will that’d kept her from succumbing to death in her half-turned state had also kept her mind in one piece through the whole ordeal-and evidently, also interpreted his actions as patronizing. At least her annoyance had overtaken her fear.
He sat back. They had time until Cáel and Beck got to them, and it was clear Rosaline wasn’t insane, for which he profusely thanked the gods. Still, he was in uncharted territory in this situation. Everyone he’d turned before had known what was going to happen to them. Even then, the transition was hard, physically and mentally. Rosaline was running on borrowed energy, adrenaline. Should he warn her that this was just the calm before the storm? Part of him still worried she’d flee. He’d catch her, but that might frighten her again, considering all she’d been through. He was saved from a rare moment of indecisiveness by Rosaline.
She sat up straight, crossed her legs, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay.” Her hands made some sort of pushing gesture. He supposed the movement helped her to almost literally shove her fear away. “I’m guessing you can tell me what has happened, so could you fill me in on who you are and what’s going on? The last thing I remember is fighting with Queen Crazy Fangs and having the living shit kicked out of me. Now I’m here-wherever here is-and have”-she tapped her teeth-“something new to show my dentist. Not to mention the fact that two minutes ago, I felt like I was going to die, and now I feel fine except for the fact that I’m pretty sure”-she gestured to the dirt and dried blood covering her-“I need to shower for a week straight.”
Gray smirked at her title for Isadora, then grew serious. “To start off with, my name is Grayson. Call me Gray. I’m a revenant, but,” he rushed on as she stiffened, “I don’t align myself with Isadora. Quite the opposite, in fact. Not all revenants do.” He heard the familiar defensiveness in his voice and quickly tamped it down. Getting on a soapbox would serve no purpose at the moment. “When you were captured by Isadora, you must have gotten some revenant blood in you. It started the changing process but didn’t complete it. You’ve been half-turned for over the past two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
He nodded. “Most people would never survive that, but you managed to hold on until I was able to find you.”
“But you’re not a Magic. I mean, not-”
“One of your guardians’ kind? No. I am sure they are out searching for you, but…” It occurred to him suddenly that it hadn’t registered with her where, exactly, she was, and he wasn’t about to remind her of who else had died here by revealing his assumption that Cearúil’s pride would have shot down the idea of his property being searched. If the Magics had even considered the castle a possibility.
“I am certain your people are looking for you, but I had an advantage in finding you.”
“An advantage?”
It wouldn’t hurt for her to know, since Isadora would never get anywhere near her again. “A spy in Isadora’s service. I have several, but only one high-ranking enough to discover where you were, and even for that person, it took time.”
She nodded, whether in understanding or just to signify she heard him, Gray wasn’t sure. He picked at the remains of his jacket, and her eyes tracked the movement.
“What happened to your clothes?”
“This place is rather difficult to get to.” When she started to look around, he scrambled to think up something to distract her. “Being a revenant, it wasn’t exactly possible for me to contact the other Magics and ask for help.” That was true enough, and he knew bitterness colored his tone, but he couldn’t help it. This woman had suffered far longer than she would have if Gray had had access to more resources. He would not have balked at searching any potential location, royalty be damned. His own resources were stretched thin when it came to this rather unique situation, particularly because he was handling the situation himself. Not that he regretted it, he admitted to himself as his gaze trailed slowly over Rosaline’s seated form. The Magics might have-likely would have-killed her rather than seek a revenant’s help, and the thought of a life so innocent, so beautiful, being snuffed out…
He shook his head, trying to distance himself. “Anyway, I got here, and it was either complete the change or kill you, so I hope you appreciate the choice I made.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m practical enough to be grateful for your decision, thank you.” She bit her lower lip, and he had trouble drawing his focus from her mouth back to her words. “Where do we go from here?”
“My men are working on making us an exit. Then we need blood, shelter, and you’re going to need sleep. New revenants tend to need lots of blood and sleep. To be honest, I could use both as well. Now that we’ve found you, tomorrow night is soon enough to regroup and figure out what to do about my-” He cut himself off before he revealed his ties to her tormenter. Given all that Rosaline had been through, he didn’t think admitting to the fact that Isadora was his mother was the wisest course of action. Right now Gray needed her to trust him, not run from him, or worse, run from him and blurt the information out to the Magics. “My queen,” he covered. “Also you’re going to feel some…side effects…from the change, and it’d be best if we were somewhere a bit more comfortable to deal with them when they hit.”
Rosaline nodded again, but she was staring at the ground. “Sounds like a plan. Gray?” She hesitated as if frightened of what she was about to ask next. “My best friend…my bodyguard…she was in the warehouse with me. She’s one of the fae. Tall, slender, long red hair… She…she was in pretty bad shape.” Rosaline looked up and met his eyes, tears shining in her own. “Can you tell me what happened to her? Please… Good or bad, I need to know.”
Gray hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to break this to her. “She’s been taken care of,” he said, deciding that was sufficiently ambiguous to both not alarm her and to assuage his conscience.
A tear slid down her cheek, and he hated himself for it, but she brushed it away and closed her eyes. She stayed like that for a moment, but when her eyelids lifted, the look in them wasn’t merely bereaved but searching. “You’re not telling me everything.”
Best just to be honest. “No.”
She took a deep breath. Released it. “You will.”
Disconcerted by her statement, Gray was saved from the path they were going down by his cell phone ringing. He looked at the caller ID-it was Cáel. He turned his attention back to Rosaline. “It’s one of my men. He should be ready to get us out of here.” He answered his phone. “Cáel? Do you have everything ready?”
“All set, cuz,” Cáel said. “We’re along the southern wall, which is across from the way you came in. I can hear you, so move away from that area. How is the girl?”
“I’ve got her, and she’s…she’s okay.”
“Why am I not comforted by the way you sound right now?”
“Because I’m not with you to serve up my answer with a blanket and stuffed animal? How the fuck do I know? Just give us two minutes to move and blow us a way out.” He snapped, then shut his phone to disconnect. Cáel would see what he’d done soon enough.
Rosaline was looking at him with some interest. “Should I ask?”
He shrugged. “My cousin. He’s a pain in the ass, but for some reason, I keep him around.”
She smiled at that, her expression the first bright moment he’d had in he didn’t know how long. He stood and proffered a hand, which she took as she rose. “We need to move back. They have to blow up a part of the wall.”
She moved swiftly and seemed surprised to find herself almost instantly at the spot he’d pointed to. “Whoa. That’s going to take some getting used to,” she said with an uneasy laugh.
“There are some benefits to being one of us. After your body adjusts to being a revenant, you’ll naturally return to ‘human’ speed again but still have the ability to move swiftly when you choose. It’s disconcerting to have to think about it in reverse at first, I know.” He made the mistake of looking down to smile at her just as she looked up at him. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, he was lost in the depths of her dark eyes. He leaned down; he had to taste her lips once more.
The explosion broke the spell and made the walls around them shudder. Instinctively he pressed Rosaline down toward the ground and crouched over her, shielding her body with his own. Some debris hit him, and the scent of smoke and dirt filled the air. Within a few minutes, the dust had cleared. Gray looked up cautiously and, seeing that it was safe, helped Rosaline up. Cáel and Beck were standing in the clearing.
They made their way over to Cáel and Beck, Rosaline holding on to his arm to keep her pace steady. Gray saw Beck’s eyes widen infinitesimally when he saw Rosaline. He could tell. They both could. Cáel gave him a look that said he’d be hearing about this situation later. For now he was just grateful his cousin kept his mouth shut. They all needed blood and shelter, and he and Rosaline could do with a shower and some fresh clothes. The mere thought of a shower had him halting his wayward thoughts in their tracks before he got lost in the idea of Rosaline wet and naked. Gray shifted his focus to her and swiftly introduced her to his cousin and Beck. Basic pleasantries seemed odd, considering their current situation, but he figured keeping things as normal as possible would help Rosaline maintain the equilibrium she’d managed to hold on to so far.
“I called Aja,” Cáel said, speaking of Gray’s ever-efficient admin. “She’s set us up with the closest blood bank and made reservations at the hotel in town. She sent the directions and confirmation stuff to Beck’s phone, since we weren’t totally sure if yours would survive your little trip through the briar patch. I’ll get back to where we left the car and take the blood run, unless you want me to drive you to the hotel. It isn’t that far, but frankly, you look like shit.”
Gray was pretty sure Cáel could heal from a black eye by the time he made it to the blood bank, but he resisted temptation. He turned to Rosaline. “Do you think you’ll be okay if we walked?”
“With how fast I can move now? Totally. And really, I feel fine. Desperately in need of a shower, but otherwise okay. Strange, but true.”
He caught Beck’s concerned look out of the corner of his eye, but Gray kept his gaze on Rosaline. “All right, then.” They’d move quickly, and he’d carry her if the aftereffects kicked in. Getting blood in her was the most important thing at the moment. He nodded at Cáel, who took off, and then he, Beck, and Rosaline set out into the night.
© Riley Shane, November 2011
All Rights Reserved