Darelles Trinity

Chapter Three

She blinked again. “Guardians?”

Gareth nodded, pulling off his cloak and draping it around her shoulders. “Aye. We’ll explain everything later, my lady. Now let’s put a great distance between ourselves and this château. Minhotep will only wait as long as he has to before he comes looking for you. That gives us until sundown. Now stay between us, Lady Darelle.” He turned and began to lead her away from the castle, in the direction of the hills.

She fell in step next to him, aware of Kane’s powerful presence at her other side. Both men walked with a strong, assured gait that reminded her of large, powerful cats.

“Do you think he will try to attack us again?” she asked Gareth, who seemed to be the authority of the two men.

“Not in daylight, my lady. Minhotep has few weaknesses, but daylight is one of them. We should, however, get back to Paris as soon as possible. Our strength is in unity. As I said, by nightfall, Minhotep will resume his quest for you.”

Gareth’s words sent an icy shiver down her back. She pulled his cloak around her more tightly. “What are his other weaknesses?” Darelle hungered suddenly to know all she could about the vampire who had invaded her mind and body, as if the knowledge could strengthen her power to resist him.

“We are, my lady.” Kane spoke this time.

Darelle turned and gazed at his profile. He and his brother had beautifully sculpted features, firm and chiseled, with a handsome cleft in the chin. “We?”

“The Coeurs Éternels,” he said. “Our existence has acted as a conscience on him of sorts. Since we have come into being, Minhotep’s thirst for power and blood has waned considerably from what it once was.”

“Minhotep is the oldest vampire in existence,” Gareth picked up the explanation. “He came into being as far back as the pyramids in Egypt and was a pharaoh of great power. Legend has it that after the time of the Buddha, a great enlightened sage, Minhotep once fed on a Tibetan monk who sat in a cave, deep in meditation. He brought the monk across and found that the man’s heart still beat although he was no longer mortal. That monk was the forefather of the Coeurs Éternels. Since that time, out of every vampire who is made, a certain number of them are like us.”

“Once Minhotep created our kind,” Kane said, “he lost the power to kill other vampires. For some reason, our existence curbs his strength. It is that control that allowed us to pull you away from him relatively easily.” He frowned. “Not that he won’t try to get you back. His only ability to conquer you will be through control of your heart. If he finds your deepest desires, he can master you through them.”

An icy tinge teased at her insides, remembering the erotic control he already had over her. Could it possibly get worse? “Why me? Surely there are others he could possess, maybe even someone who would be happy that way.”

Gareth glanced down at her, a grim look darkening his handsome face. “Because, my lady, you are devastatingly beautiful.”

Darelle’s cheeks burned and she looked straight ahead. She had always avoided the company of men, staying alone on the hills with her sheep. “Thank you, my lord.”

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

“The fact that you are a Coeur Eternel is a foil for Minhotep,” Kane said softly. “The rumors are that he once had a beautiful wife and wanted to make her immortal before she started to grow old. When she learned what he was, she was horrified and left him. She hid from him and then years later, when she fell ill, she did allow a Coeur Eternel to take her life as an act of mercy. He hates us for that. Well, that and the fact that every time he sires one such as us, we run from him.”

Darelle looked at him. “By the Virgin and all that is holy, I have never imagined such things to happen in the world.”

Gareth looked at her gently. “The world is vast and there is much in it that you cannot imagine, my lady.”

Darelle walked silently for several moments with Gareth’s words swimming through her mind. “I’ve lived on Lascaux’s estate my entire life. I had barely ever seen him until the last year or so. Never have I known the truth of him. He frightens me.”

Gareth smiled gently. “It is well you fear him,” he said. “But we are here with you now.”

“We are not as old as Lascaux, but Kane and I are very old ourselves. Our age alone has given us time to build much strength against him.”

Darelle blinked. “How old are you?”

Gareth ushered her back to walking. “Kane and I were Roman soldiers nearly fifteen hundred years ago. I was mortally wounded in battle against the Celts on one of their incursions into Italy. A woman from the village nearby found me on the battlefield. She was of the undead and brought me across.”

“Gareth made me after that so we would always be together,” Kane added.

His brother nodded solemnly. “Aye, we’re inseparable. Perhaps it is that bond that kept us from losing our souls.”

“That is what the Coeurs Éternels are,” Gareth continued. “For some mysterious reason, there are those of us who are fed upon, yet retain our souls because of some dominant characteristic that remains. Like the monk in the cave whose whole heart and mind were set on compassion and enlightenment.”

Sudden tears heated Darelle’s eyes. She wondered what possible quality she possessed that had made her a Coeur Eternel, especially remembering the countless times she had pleasured herself under Lascaux’s t****l. “That is beautiful,” she murmured. “What happened to you then?”

Kane chuckled. “Since then, we have lived many lifetimes, mostly as warriors. We left the Romans and fought with the Celts and then the Vikings. After many, many years and many battles, we finally grew tired of fighting and wished only to ease the suffering of those mortals who fell around us in pain.”

Gareth nodded. “We were finally drawn to Paris without knowing why. It is when we reached that city we found it is the center of the Coeurs Éternels. As time passes, we have been gathering our strength in numbers. Now the time for us to have a priestess has come.”

Darelle caught her breath at the meaningful tone in Gareth’s voice. “Priestess?”

He nodded. “Aye, my lady. Only a priestess needs two guardians to stay at her side for eternity, guarding against Minhotep’s powers and against any other force that would wish us harm.”

She stopped walking and stared at both of them, her gaze moving from one to the other. “You don’t mean…me?”

“Aye, Lady Darelle,” Kane answered. “Finally, the seer has told us that the one who will lead us has come into existence. That was last night, when Lascaux brought you across.”

The tears that had burned in Darelle’s eyes a few moments earlier now began to flow. Perhaps she was a vampire after all. In a mere day, her simple world of a shepherdess had been shattered. Her beloved family had perished, she had been made immortal and escaped a powerful vampire. And now, according to Gareth’s story, she was being thrust into a position of grave responsibility with two men who were to protect her for eternity. “I’m sorry for my tears,” she whispered, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

A pair of strong arms closed around her. Protective maleness surrounded her and she began to sob, her body sagging against her comforter. Two large hands caressed her back through the coarse material of the cloak. Another hand stroked her hair.

“It’s all right, Darelle.” Gareth’s voice carried through her crying.

Darelle allowed herself to melt against the hard male strength. She succumbed to their caresses. Finally, she was soothed enough to speak. She looked up at Gareth who brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “I’ve never been off this land, my lords,” she said to both men. “Mon pere, ma famille, they lie dead in our home. I never was able to say good-bye.” She stood up straight and heaved a deep sigh. “Please, I beg you, they need a proper burial. My soul will go on, but what will happen to theirs?”

Gareth and Kane looked at each other, their expressions grave.

“We must get back as soon as possible,” Gareth said.

Kane looked at him. “How can we refuse her this, Gareth? You and I were able to remain together. Darelle had no such chance with her loved ones.”

“She has us now. It is crucial we bring her to Colette.” Gareth smoothed one large hand over his short dark hair.

Darelle watched them debate. She didn’t hear a word they said, listening only for their agreement to bury her family.

“It’s the difference of perhaps a couple of hours, Gareth,” Kane said after a moment’s silence.

Gareth sighed. “All right. But we mustn’t tarry.” He turned to Darelle. “Very well, my lady. Show us the way.”

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning in the direction of her father’s cottage.

Her guardians took their places at either side of her. Once again, she remarked at how much stronger and safer she felt walking between them. When Gareth and Kane held her between them, Lascaux’s t****l had slipped off her like water beading on skin.

The morning sun reflected on the dew, sheening the grass. The scent of heavy grasses and wildflowers ripened in the burgeoning warmth. Bees hovered lazily above the clover. Darelle’s gaze fell on the body of one fat furry bumblebee as it passed in front of her. A sudden wild craving for clover honey gripped her senses with a force she’d never known before. “I cannot be a vampire,” she said as the craving for honey caused her mouth to water.

“Why do you say that, my lady?” Kane asked.

She looked up at him. “Because I desire to taste honey. Vampires crave only blood, n’est-ce pas?” She saw him glance at his brother.

“The Coeurs Éternels do eat honey,” he answered. “It is the one substance from the mortal appetite that crosses over. The seer tells us that because our heart still beats, honey will remind us that there was sweetness in mortal life, that it was not always bitter.”

“Also,” Gareth added, “aside from blood, the creature that produces the honey does not need to die before providing it.”

“And honey can be put to so many wonderful uses,” Kane said with a tinge of sensuality in his voice.

“Kane!” Gareth spoke sharply.

Darelle glanced at Kane who chuckled, his dark eyes sparkling with a light of mischief. A pleasant tingle suffused her abdomen and spread downward to her s*x. To her surprise, the sensation was not gripping and lurid, as it was with Lascaux.

“There will be time for that later, Kane,” Gareth said. “We are about to hold a funeral. Please keep that in mind.”

“Of course.” Kane looked sufficiently chastened. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

“I forgive you,” she said softly. But she was not at all disturbed by Kane’s flirtation. She had had very little social contact with young men and found the attention flattering, especially when the man was so very handsome.

Darelle looked straight ahead. The vicinity of her father’s thatched-roof cottage was coming into view. “I do not feel so like a vampire,” she said. “I still don’t want to believe this.”

“What about your flight from the window to the battlement?” Gareth asked.

She hung her head. That could certainly not be explained any other way than she was no longer an ordinary human. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

She heard Kane chuckle again. He was certainly the more easygoing of the two brothers. “Wait until you see someone committing a crime that is morally repugnant,” he said, his smile fading. “Then you will experience the vampire in you.”

Darelle’s heart lurched in her chest and the backs of her hands prickled. “What do you mean?” she breathed.

“Kane, you speak too freely.” Gareth scowled at his brother. “Lady Darelle, let us take care of your family’s burial and begin our journey home. You need time to accustom yourself to this change in your existence.”

She nodded agreement although Kane’s words rang in her mind. She fell silent just as her childhood home came into view. If she hadn’t known of the horror awaiting her there, she would have thought life had gone on as usual. The only indications that death had permeated the tiny timber structure were the lack of smoke curling from the chimney, and yet more animal carcasses, some of her sheep, lying about the yard. Without thinking, she grasped Gareth’s left arm and Kane’s right. Kane’s cloak rasped under her fingertips, while Gareth’s corded muscle was more vivid through the white linen of his shirt.

Gareth stopped, bringing Kane and Darelle to a halt. He stared straight ahead. “Is that your family’s home, my lady?”

She nodded. “Oui.”

Gareth sighed. “Kane, wait here with Darelle until I’ve buried them.” He put a large hand on her arm. “I don’t want you to witness it,” he said in a firm voice.

Relief washed through her. “Yes, my lord.” Addressing him and Kane thus felt completely natural. According the title of respect to her guardians removed it from Lascaux.

He looked at Kane. “Don’t let her watch.”

Kane nodded and gently drew Darelle away, to the other side of a large chestnut tree. “Come, Lady Darelle,” he said gently, “saying goodbye will be hard enough without witnessing more death.”

To her great relief, he pulled her into his arms. Resting his back against the tree, he held her close. Darelle closed her eyes, her cheek against Kane’s muscled chest.

“I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to frighten or offend you, my lady,” Kane said as he caressed her tumble of curls. “I’m afraid that Gareth is the one who has the better control of his tongue…with words that is.”

In spite of herself, Darelle could not suppress a smile. Kane seemed to have a gift for bringing humor into the darkest of circumstances, and of making her feel beautiful. “You haven’t offended me,” she said. “You make me smile.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad to know that, my lady.”

“You two look exactly alike, yet you’re so different.”

“Aye, we are. However, there are two things upon which we absolutely agree and those things come before any of our differences.”

Darelle raised her face from Kane’s chest and looked up at him. “What are they?”

His expression was more serious. “The first is that we stay together, no matter what. And the second,” he brushed his thumb tenderly across her cheek, “is that you are loved and protected.”

A pleasurably warm flush spread through her body at his words. “But you barely know me,” she breathed, becoming vividly aware of his rugged male body holding her close.

His dark eyes simmered as he gazed at her. “Well, my lady, God willing, we’ll have eternity to get to know each other.” He pulled her against him and stroked her hair, his touch helping stave off the temptation to try to see Gareth in the process of digging the graves and removing her father, sisters and brother from the cottage and laying them to rest.

After a while, she heard footsteps in the soft grass. Kane released her and they looked expectantly at Gareth.

“The graves are ready, my lady,” he said, his expression solemn.

She stepped forward, grateful for Kane’s hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

Gareth picked up her hand and led her the short distance to the graves. She hesitated a few paces away then approached the four mounds of earth.

Gareth released her and hung back with Kane, allowing her privacy.

She stared at the graves as she went the last few steps. Gareth had made crosses from large twigs fastened with twine. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Au revoir, Papa, Michel, Christine, et Hélène,” she whispered. Silently she prayed that their souls found Heaven. She wondered why such a thing as the plague could exist and take the only family she’d ever known from her in a mere few days. She sighed heavily, blinking back tears.

Kane and Gareth materialized on either side of her. Both her hands were enclosed in large, warm, masculine ones.

She looked at each of them. “I cannot thank you both enough.”

Gareth bowed. “It is our privilege.” He touched her shoulder. “Come now, Lady Darelle,” he said gently, “there’s not much time. We have a long journey and need to find shelter before sundown.”