Gift of Blood

Excerpt

GIFT OF BLOOD was my first try at a vampire book. I wanted to do my own breed of vampires, however, so I created a new race called Vectors. They do drink blood but they are not bound by the usual vampire rules. Sunlight bothers them but really only during puberty. They are not immortal in that they can be killed by various methods. I hope you enjoy visiting Jaeger as much as I did.

ISBN: 192097282X

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Price: US $4.95

My life had been the sun but now I have no choice to be who I am. After all these years I notice that to the lonely moon there are also stars in the sky. A single, bright star will affect my existence. Rhiannon. She shows me that the moon is actually not an enemy but a companion.

—Toni Griffing

Jaeger looked down at his hands. They were shaking. Hell, his whole body was shaking. His gaze moved to the unconscious young boy sprawled on the ground. This was insane; totally mad. Jaeger raked one hand through his hair and took several steps away.

His gaze swept over the surrounding fields. Grazing land, mostly, but a thick copse of maple trees stood on either side of the lane, plunging it into cool, blue-black darkness. The trees had hidden Jaeger, and he spooked the child’s horse when he stepped into the open without warning. Now, guilt raged through him as he once more approached the unconscious youth.

How could I have done this? He’s a child, just a child. Still…

He hunkered down beside the boy and ran one long, slender finger along the child’s neck. The skin was soft and warm; the vein pulsed with each heartbeat.

Jaeger’s mouth watered at the thought of the blood surging through it, back and forth, never ceasing, giving life…

A soft moan startled him. He drew back as the boy roused.

“What happened?” The child’s voice was groggy.

“You fell from your horse,” Jaeger said with a calm he didn’t feel.

The boy glanced at the horse grazing nearby. “I’ve never fallen before. “

“Perhaps my sudden appearance alongside the road frightened your animal.”

 The boy shot another quick glance at the horse, then looked back at Jaeger. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I’m but a passerby.”

You’re trespassing,” the boy snapped, getting unsteadily to his feet.

Jaeger lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? I saw no boundary signs.”

The boy sneered at him. “You imbecile! Everyone knows these lands belong to Lord Dain.” He brushed his leathers clean with disgusted short strokes.

“Ah, Lord Dain. Then you must be his heir, Fellowes.” Jaeger regarded him thoughtfully. He was a nice-looking boy with a mop of golden hair and wide, expressive brown eyes. His clothing was expensive, his boots of the finest leather. He wore a gold crest ring on his smallest finger and some sort of gold medallion about his neck. Overall, he seemed the picture of innocence. So, his next words surprised Jaeger.

“You’re not as stupid as you look,” he said.

Jaeger drew a slow breath, holding back his irritation. “As far as stupidity goes, I am not the one falling from my horse.”

Anger reddened Fellowes’ face. He stomped over to the horse. “Well, it’ll be the last time this old nag throws me!” He snatched his riding crop from its holder on the saddle, and before Jaeger could stop him, brought the whip down sharply against the horse’s flank.

The animal cried out in pain, attempting to dance aside, but Fellowes had a tight grip on its halter. He raised his hand to deliver another blow.

Jaeger leapt forward, seized Fellowes’ wrist and tore the crop away from him.

“How dare you!” Fellowes raged.

“No. How dare you?” Jaeger countered, his voice cold and soft. “The horse was not at fault here. She deserves no punishment.”

Fellowes struggled against Jaeger’s grip. “She will be punished if I say she will. She’s my horse.”

“No longer.” With his free hand, Jaeger removed the horse’s halter and loosened the saddle girth. A sharp slap on the rump sent the animal bolting, rearing, and kicking to escape the saddle. It hit the ground with a solid thud, and the mare tore away into the surrounding grasslands.

Fellowes gasped in open disbelief. “Who the hell do you think you are? My father is going to hear about this. And when he does, your life will be forfeit.”

Jaeger paused, his grip on the boy’s wrist tightening. “No, I think not,” he said softly, then drew the boy close, his mouth hungry for the pulsing vein and the blood therein.

~*~

Jaeger hunched into his black cloak, keeping his gaze on his half-empty stein. The large pub was crowded and noisy. Pipe smoke mixed with that from the hearth and mingled with the scents of goat stew, ale, and sweat. The unpleasant stench settled on Jaeger’s clothes, crawled through his hair, and coated his tongue. He took another long pull from his stein to drown out the taste.

Several dozen men, mostly local herdsmen, gathered about him, boisterous and excited. Jaeger listened to their words, his heart pounding. Lord Dain’s son had been found dead alongside the trail just hours earlier, his body drained of blood. There had been no signs of a duel, no outward injury to the boy, save for several small puncture wounds on his neck. Word had traveled fast through the small hamlet, and settled on the Vectors, the “undead” who wandered the land searching for human blood to quench their thirst.

Lord Dain had sent his best men in search of the killer, and had offered a generous reward for capture of the same. The village men discussed forming groups and argued over how the reward money would be split.

Jaeger winced at the open hostility and disdain coloring the men’s words. Their hatred of Vectors was very apparent. He took another drink and slouched further into his cloak. His only saving grace was that he had arrived in this village some weeks past and the consensus among the vigilantes seemed to be that they were looking for a stranger. And with his Illusion, that of an aged man barely capable of walking, he was quickly discounted as a suspect.

Still, he wished he could stand up for himself, for his kind. Not all Vectors were murderers. In fact, Jaeger could tick off on one hand those Vectors he considered truly evil.

If there was evil in anyone, it was in the humans. They were the ones hunting down Vectors, as if in sport. They had discovered Vector vulnerabilities, the ways they could be killed. That the death was torture for the victim didn’t seem to matter to those humans seeking their demise.

Most Vectors wanted only to live in peace, surviving the best they could on a diet requiring blood. Most Vectors didn’t kill their victims, either. They didn’t need that much blood. Why Fellowes was dead was a mystery. Jaeger certainly would never kill a child. He hadn’t taken enough to kill the boy.

Why he had taken any blood at all was a question that pounded through his mind. He had always quenched his thirst with goat’s blood, easily obtainable in the pastures spread out over the countryside. At least, he had until now.

Whatever had possessed him today? What had made him turn on a human for the first time in his very long life? He shook his head and took another pull from his stein.

“Ah, Jaeger.” The voice seemed loud, even in the noisy room. “You’re the last person I’d expect to find here.”

Jaeger looked up in astonishment. “Celd!”

He was shocked to see him here, though Jaeger was not surprised Celd had found him. Vectors had a way of honing in on their own kind, and Celd seemed more adept than most. Jaeger supposed it had something to do with the fact that they really had no others they could call friend or family.

Not that he considered Celd a friend. Quite the opposite; Jaeger had always seen him as pompous, aloof and…cruel. When Jaeger’s parents had died and he had gone to live in the Lair, he often found himself the victim of the other Vector’s jibes.

Celd could afford to look down his nose at him. His father was not only a Chosen, but also one of the Sovereign’s closest aides. His father, unlike Jaeger’s, had not been banished from the Lair, condemned for loving a mere human.

His father had not conceived a son who was ashamed of his heritage.

Jaeger sighed. When had he become so disgusted with himself?

Celd collapsed onto the bench opposite him. They were both under Illusion, as was custom in public. Tonight, custom called for the world to see them as two bent and aged men. It would not have been so easy to overlook them had they appeared as themselves; most Vectors stood more than six feet tall, tended to have raven-black hair, sharp features, and almond-shaped black eyes set into skin the color of porcelain. Their frames were lean but muscular, and their bearing regal.

They were not easily forgotten.

“So,” Celd said, gesturing at the other patrons and speaking to Jaeger in their own tongue, “I see you’ve been busy.”