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The is a work of fiction that contains graphic scenes between legal, consenting homosexual adults. If this is at all offensive to you and you are underage where ever you are, I advise you to turn away immediately. You have been warned.
Sang Royallis: Blood Bound
Chapter one
He hadn't fed in nearly three weeks but sustenance was the last thing on Kieran's mind. He would feed when he was through, now though, he had a job to do. One that required stealth and speed for this was a matter of life and death in which every moment counted. A race against the clock meant a race against the Dytons, he couldn't afford to think of anything else but what was at stake.
Raz had counted two that needed rescuing tonight, a shifter and a Werekin, both scheduled to be auctioned within the hour, Kieran was determined to get to them before they could be sold. After a decade or so of doing this, one would think he'd be used to this by now, but the nerves were as predictable as clockwork, fluttering like demon wings in the pit of his abdomen. Vampires weren't prone to base human emotions, fear and nerves were supposed to be above them, Kieran however never professed to be just like every other vampire. The fact that he was here tonight once again putting his life in danger, ready and willing to fight for what he believed in more than proved that.
With one last look at his watch, he peeled away from the wall, heart beating incessantly loud in the hollow of his chest, he ambled into the night. It would take him fifteen minutes to get to his destination on foot, using his shadow as means of transport would only attract unwanted attention. Inconspicuousness was what he was going for. A Vampire, especially a Sang Royallis in the midst of cutthroat, bloodthirsty demons would not bode well for him. So Kieran made haste, walking fast enough that were a human to take notice they would see only a shadowed blur, a slight ripple in the murky darkness.
He took a shortcut through Kipling Park, heading for the quite suburbs on the outskirts of Tillington, the address Raz had given him etched in his brain. They've moved the "Market" quite a bit these last few weeks. This location being the third in the course of a few days and from what Kieran could tell, it certainly wouldn't be held in a dilapidated building like the last one. Kieran wanted to believe that the Dytons were finally doing something right, cracking down on the illegal slave trades that have been occurring for ages now. But he knew better.
The Dytons served only one purpose, followed only one law and that was never in favor of the helpless, oppressed creatures Kieran rescued on nearly all his nightly excursions. The Dytons were the eyes, ears and arms of the Northeastern Covens, their protection extending to all Vampires in the 14 counties beneath King Bromhein's rule. Their allegiance to the royal family was foremost, but duty to the Vampire citizens of Amesbury came at a close second. Their sole objective was to enforce the laws of Amesbury and see that the century long treaty between humans, Vampires and Werekins was upheld. In this they were efficient but terribly cruel and it pained Kieran to know that his own brother was leader of these warriors. But to be fair, this was Ryker's birthright, as with all kings before him, playing a part in the Dyton army was an obligation one had to fulfill before ascending the throne.
In some ways he had to be grateful to them though, because their lack of empathy for those they believed inferior to them gave him purpose to do what he didn't believe he could ever do. Deceive his family. Challenge the authority he was raised, since birth to believe and trust in. There were laws set by the Council of Sangral that he broke each and every time he rescued these creatures, especially the Werekins, laws that had extreme consequences if ever broken. But Kieran wasn't bothered with consequences. How could he possibly think of himself when others suffered so greatly in his community, especially when the ones responsible were his own people? While other members of the Sang Royallis preferred to sit idly by twiddling their thumbs and feigning ignorance to the surmounting plight in their world, Kieran found that he could not remain so impassive.
This why he did what he did and granted he wasn't as physically strong as the Dytons were, but victories weren't always won with brute strength. the proof of that remained in the countless numbers of creatures he'd aided over the years.
Tonight, he needed to save two more. Arriving at his destination seemed to have taken no time at all and soon, Kieran stood before a single-family home, whitewashed, well-manicured lawns, typically unremarkable from the rest of the homes that lined the quiet streets. The house remained dark, eerily silent and to anyone else it would appear as though the occupants were fully asleep, but Kieran knew it was all a charade. Demons, like vampires were remarkably adept in Rything that which they wished not to be seen, Satian demons were particularly good at that. But, despite the Rythe, Kieran was able to feel the demonic energy pulsating through the air. It was so thick that he nearly choked on it, even standing at a distance. The closer he went the more cloying the energy.
The Azlette Raz had gifted him tightened painfully around his wrist --the pain was inconsequential. It did however provide a small comfort to his otherwise wary nerves. He hated dealing with demons. As well as being ornery, cruel and grossly unhygienic, their energy alone was enough to knock a full-blooded vampire to his knees and Kieran was feeling the effects, right down to his small toe. Demons were bad company, not exactly the sort of immortals you wanted to mess around with and Kieran knew it would be a miracle if he escaped their den unscathed. the sooner he procured the Werekin and shifter the faster he could escape, but right now, he had to trudge through the sickness making its way through his pores.
There really was no plan to this mission, he usually had one. Raz always made sure he had one, but this hadn't been thoroughly planed out like the others for namely two reasons. 1) The auction was happening far quicker than either of them had anticipated and 2) Kieran had been on his way to Amesbury when Raz had contacted him. Had he gone to the Haven as Raz had wanted, it would've taken twice as long to get here and they would've missed the opportunity to free the Werekin and the shifter. They were playing on borrowed time, time that they did not have to lose, so he hadn't formulated a plan, something the angel hadn't been too happy about when he'd learned of Kieran's intentions.
The Azlette was his only way in, his only source of protection if his own abilities failed. He had no intentions of failing, but not having fed meant that he was considerably weaker than usual and that in and of itself presented a problem, one he wasn't quite equipped to care for in his present situation. Without much delay, Kieran crouched down and disappeared within his shadow ,the familiar tug of being transported took hostage of his entrails for a brief eternity and when he rematerialized it took him a few minutes to gather his bearings.
He felt the cold instantly. Right at the center of his being glacial veins of hoarfrost stretched out, reached for capillaries and veins, chilling the very blood in his veins, eating at him from the inside out. There was an Ancheron here. His energy so great that Kieran felt it most above all the other demons present, a feeling of foreboding overcame all at once and urgency became his driving force. If the Ancheron were to detect him---Kieran shuddered. He needed to find his targets and leave soon. He used his senses to find them, second floor, third door on the right. The Werekin---the Werekin was wounded. The shifter was in relatively good health, Kieran thanked the Blood Mother for small favors.
The room they were stored in was reinforced with dark energy, Grimlor energy, nothing Kieran couldn't bypass, but the feeling of walking through that sticky force turned his stomach, the smell alone would linger on his skin for days to come. He walked through the door, the vibrations hitting him at all sides and when he was through to the other side he wasn't a given a moment to recuperate before being tackled to the ground.
Body and head collided with the merciless hardwood floor and Kieran released a series of expletives in his attempt to unseat the shifter on top of him. His actions proved futile however when said shifter easily maneuvered him on his stomach, settling the bulk of his weight on the knee digging painfully into Kieran's lower back. He held Kieran's arms just a few inches above that knee, tugging hard enough that the vampire feared he'd pop the appendages out of their sockets.
"Fuck." He breathed, the pain lacing up his arms more than a little unsettling. This was what he got for going so long without feeding. Handling the shifter would've been much easier had he embarked on this mission on a full stomach.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart right now." The shifter demanded, breath escaping him in short rapid burst. Kieran had no doubt he'd exerted himself in his efforts to restrain him.
"Help---you," was all he could manage to say with a hundred and some odd pounds pushing down on him.
"You think I'd trust a vamp? You're----"
"He's not one of them, Taryn, let him go." This from a voice in the far left corner of the room and with his face aimed in that particular direction Kieran was able to make out a huddled form slumped against a wall.
"He's---"
"Now."
It took only seconds for the order to be carried out and too soon Kieran found that he could breathe again, although with slight difficulty. Pulling up to a sitting position, he slowly rolled his shoulders to rid himself of the throbbing aches.
"If you are here to save us, vampire, I suggest you do so quickly. We don't have much time."
The room was dark, the only source of light came from the moon hanging high above the starless sky. It filtered in pale rays of moonlight through the solitary window in the room, but even without the lighting Kieran could tell that this was the Werekin. He may have been physically weaker, but his senses remained blessedly sharp, which meant he could smell the Werekin even miles away. Something even a fledgling vampire could accomplish without great difficulty. The Werekin was bleeding profusely, his blood practically perfumed the air. It was all Kieran could do not to relinquish control to the famished vampire in him.
The Werekin came to his feet and it wasn't lost on Kieran how heavily he leaned against the wall as he did so. The shifter---Taryn, hastened to his side, slinging an arm around his shoulders, he took a bit of the Werekin's weight as they eased their way towards him. Reminded of the urgency of this mission, Kieran also stood, his mind working fast to formulate an escape plan.
"Are you badly hurt?"
"It's only a flesh wound, nothing I can't handle." Kieran had a sneaking suspicion that said 'flesh wound' was more than the Werekin made it out to be. "What's the plan?"
"Can you both shift?"
The Werekin shook his dark head. "Taryn can, but I can't claim my wolf skin"
That was going to be a problem. Kieran had never shadowed another body before. The amount of concentration and control needed to accomplish such a feat was beyond his limited powers. It took vampires, master vampires decades to perfect what he now dared to undertake. He truly hoped that he had enough strength to shadow all three of them out of here. Leaving them wasn't an option.
Mind decidedly made up, Kieran stepped into the moonlight, and his shadow quickly appeared. The Azlette had done a great job in keeping him undetected thus far. Kieran needed it to hold up long enough so that he could shadow them away safely before it gave out, as it was now threatening to do. "We need to get out of here."
"How do you propose we do that surrounded by Grimlor energy?" Taryn asked, voice dripping with derision, his dour expression made even more so by the perpetual glower.
As tempted as he was to snap back, Kieran held back his retort and instead filled them in on his plan. "I'm going to disarm it long enough for you to shift, than we really need to hurry because my Azlette won't be able to keep all three of us hidden for too long." He walked to the nearest wall, pressed his hand, palm side down to it and glanced at the shifter. "Ready?" At the imperceptible nod, Kieran deactivated the invisible cage.
It felt like touching lightning. Thousands, upon thousands of unbridled energy ribboned up his arm and settled beneath the surface of his skin. His body thrummed, buzzed like an incandescent lamp as it absorbed everything. His own energy crackled along the edges, sending sparks in the air, until finally there was nothing left but the heaviness of silence, which was immediately broken by Taryn's shifting. The popping sound of bones rearranging themselves eerily comforting to the haggard vampire. When he was through a small white mouse emerged from the pool of clothes he'd once worn. It squeaked once or twice as it scurried to the Werekin's side, ever the loyal pet.
"They're coming." Kieran knew this seconds before the Werekin announced it and without a moments delay he aided the Werekin into the moonlight, within his own shadow.
"Hold on to me." The weight of the Werekin's arm settled like a band of flesh around Kieran's waist and the vampire inaudibly gasped, the impression of that arm sent a foreign sensation hurtling down his spine. His head whipped up, practically craning to search the dark features of that face. Kieran found nothing but a beard covered jaw and eyes that remained focused on the door.
"Hurry, vampire." He shook Kieran slightly, prompting him into action.
Concentration was crucial, Kieran knew this, but peace eluded him. The heavy trudge of footsteps stampeding up the stairs echoed perfectly with the cadence of his heart. They were near. "Breathe, vampire." Said the Werekin, his breath a warm whisper against Kieran's head. And just like that, as though those simple words had been all his body needed, Kieran took that necessary breath and felt the familiar tug in time to shadow them away only seconds before the door burst open and the ball of fire was hurled in their direction.