Refugee (The Captive Series Book 3) (2 page)

That was if their plan succeeded. If
they could somehow convince these possibly half crazed, half
starved aristocratic vamps to aide them in their quest. She hoped
they weren’t crazed, hoped that a hundred years in this land of
sweltering heat hadn’t fried their brains. More so, she hoped like
hell that the four of them weren’t walking right into a death
trap.

She didn’t mean to do it, but without
thinking her head rose slowly to Braith. She needed to see him,
needed the reassurance of his presence. Even though his eyes were
shaded by his dark glasses, she knew the moment when they latched
onto hers. Her heart lurched; she could barely breathe beneath the
weight of that stare. He was magnificent, and he was
hers.

She knew he wanted to tell her to look
away, to look down. She saw it in the tight pinch of his mouth, in
the muscle that jumped in his cheek. He remained silent though, his
eyes locked onto hers and for a single moment it was just the two
of them. His hand stroked her arm as he pulled her a step
closer.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured so
quietly that she barely heard him. “Please Aria, look
down.”

Ashby quirked an eyebrow but refrained
from saying anything. It was strange to hear the prince say please
to anyone, let alone her, a human, a blood slave, a rebel. She was
still surprised to hear him call her Aria, as he had always used
her full name, but being around people that didn’t use it had
finally started to rub off on him.

She sighed and reluctantly did as he
asked. The tension in his body notched up a level; she knew he was
struggling not to grab hold of her and run out of this town. To run
would only attract more attention though, and possibly entice the
thrill of the hunt. And there would be no more running, not
anymore.

Aria shifted uncomfortably. She hated
the coarse wool and dull color of the servant’s class cloak she
wore; she despised even more what it represented. She had resented
the golden chain that bound a blood slave to their master but this
cloak was worse. At least the chain had marked her as a fighter,
someone not to be trusted, someone that had rebelled and been made
to pay for that rebellion. As far as she was concerned, the cloak
signified a coward and a traitor that had bowed to the vampire
race.

More legs gathered by the side of the
road and whispers began to spread through the crowd. These outer
vamps weren’t used to strangers and they were wary and distrustful
of them. Though they had not encountered any problems so far, Aria
doubted they would be so lucky all the time. The vampire’s that
lived here were hungry, and so were the people. They were poor, and
strangers offered them a new opportunity for fresh blood, perhaps
even money. If Braith didn’t emanate such an aura of power and
dominance, she was sure they would have been jumped before this
town, even with Ashby at their side.

The whispers grew louder; they grated
against her skin as harshly as the coarse cloth covering her head.
Dust drifted up around them, it stuck in her nose and throat. It
was cloying, awful. The town smelled of blood, body odor and death.
The woods weren’t like this. Though they held the smell of decay,
it was the earthy decay of leaves and dirt. Fresh air was what she
required, freedom, and Braith.

Braith suddenly grasped hold of her
hood and jerked it forward. Aria had been so entrenched in her
thoughts that she hadn’t realized it had slipped back to reveal her
hairline, and some of her features. It wasn’t that anyone would
recognize her, they were far more likely to recognize him, but
Braith was adamant that she stay as covered as possible.

He thought her blood was too big of a
lure, Aria felt it was only a lure to him, but she wasn’t going to
argue just in case he happened to be right. She wasn’t in the mood
to be a snack for a pack of blood thirsty vampires, none of them
were. She moved to adjust the hood but he grasped hold of the hand
exposed by the movement and pulled it smoothly down to her side.
“Remain covered Aria.”

This time it wasn’t the touch of him
that caused her heart to leap and her chest to constrict, but the
tone in his voice. She was frightened by what might be unleashed if
she looked up. A tremor worked through her. Braith was strong and
powerful, but the circumstances of the past two weeks had forced
him to feed from animals instead of her. And though animals
sustained him, human blood was better, and her blood strengthened
him even more. She had a strange effect on him, she empowered him
in ways that neither of them had ever imagined possible.

And now, when he needed that strength
most, he was being denied it. And they may all be about to pay for
that if the increasing crush of bodies around them was any
indication. “Are you willing to sell one?” a loud voice
inquired.

Braith raised his arm, pushing it
against her chest as he halted her beside him. It went against
everything she was, but somehow she managed to keep her head bent
and her appearance demure. William took two more steps forward
before Ashby, in a far less graceful manner than Braith, jerked him
to a stop by the collar of his robe. Though Ashby remained
expressionless, his bright green eyes twinkled with amusement as
William grunted slightly. The two of them had gotten along well
enough, but they tended to pick at each other, sometimes to the
point that Aria became exasperated with their delight in tormenting
each other. William bristled against the highhanded treatment, but
thankfully her hot-tempered twin managed to keep his
calm.

There was a moment of silence as the
town became hushed in expectancy of Braith’s answer. He didn’t know
these lands, didn’t know the people or the etiquette that prevailed
here. In their land servants were not sold, they were not owned and
traded like the blood slaves. That may not be the case
here.

“They are not for sale,” Braith finally
answered.

A pair of legs stepped forward,
separating themselves from the crowd. The clothing on these legs
was of much higher quality than the ones surrounding it. Even with
the sand swirling around them the shoes somehow remained black and
shiny. “You look hungry,” the legs stated. “I will make a trade.
Two for one.”

Her heart was in her throat, goose
bumps tickled her skin. “Why would you make such a trade?” Braith
demanded.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could
almost feel the man’s casual shrug. “I have grown tired of them.
You know how that is, I’m sure.”

Sorrow stabbed her as she realized
Braith knew exactly how that was. She tried not to think of his
past, tried not to think of the blood slaves he had gone through
when she had escaped the palace, but every once in awhile she would
be slapped in the face with a stark reminder. She may have been his
first blood slave, but she had not been his last, and he had not
treated the others anywhere near as kindly as he had treated
her.

Braith’s arm pressed closer to her, he
was trying to offer her some sort of comfort, but she found none.
Her face was on fire; William was as still as stone before her, his
breath seemed to have frozen in his chest.

“I do, and I have not yet grown bored
with mine.”

Aria’s breath sucked in, her stomach
cramped. No matter how much time she spent amongst them, she would
never become accustomed to the cruelty and open brutality of some
within the vampire race. She was not naïve enough to think that all
humans were good either, after all, the only real abuse she had
suffered as a blood slave was at the hands of a human, but it never
seemed as overt amongst the humans as it was with the
vampires.

She wasn’t a possession though, she
never truly had been, and she bristled against being thought of as
such. Braith must have sensed something in her pulse or a shift in
her demeanor, as right at that moment he pushed her back another
step. Defiance surged through her; it took everything she had to
appear outwardly tranquil while inside she was seething. She was
tempted to pull out the hidden bow on her back but she wasn’t sure
who she wanted to shoot more…Braith or the man trying to bargain
for her.

“Let me at least get a look at her,”
the man prodded.

“I think not.”

His answer was accompanied by a
collective inhalation from the crowd. Aria’s annoyance vanished as
apprehension surged to the forefront. They were in danger here if
Braith didn’t tread the right path, and judging by the crowd’s
reaction, he had just made a serious misstep by disobeying the
request.

“No?” Though he tried to hide it, Aria
detected disbelief in the man’s voice.

“No.”

She cringed. Braith wasn’t used to
being ordered about nor was he used to anyone questioning him,
except for maybe her, and he certainly didn’t react well to it. He
was not versed in diplomacy like her father, Daniel, Jack, and
Ashby. Braith was used to giving the order and having that order
obeyed. As prince, he’d never had to learn anything different, and
he wasn’t willing to tolerate insolence now.

Aria wished she could talk to him,
reason with him, but if she opened her mouth and exposed any sort
of feeling between them, then they would be in even more peril then
they were now, if that was even possible.

“I’m sure you understand that
sometimes, when your toys are shiny and new, you tend to like to
keep them to yourself,” Ashby interjected smoothly. Aria took no
offense to being called a shiny toy. She felt only relief at
Ashby’s light tone and thankfully easygoing demeanor.

“She is new then?” the vampire
inquired.

“Oh not brand new,” Ashby replied
flippantly. “Are any of them anymore? It’s hard to find something
that hasn’t been battered and tossed aside now.” His comments were
met with snickers and muttered agreements from the crowd. “But she
is new to my friend here, and as I’m sure you’re beginning to
realize he’s none too bright, and he really hates to
share.”

Braith stiffened, irritated by Ashby’s
words. Aria held her breath, hoping Braith would keep his composure
as the muscles in his arm rippled against her. The man, who had
inquired to buy her, pondered Ashby’s words. “No, none of them are
untouched anymore.” He made a regretful sound. “Damn shame too.
What about yours?”

Ashby jerked the hood back from
William. “It’s a boy, and a redhead to boot.”

The hideous vampire chuckled. “Ah,
neither of those attributes appeal to me.”

Aria held her breath, praying that
William wouldn’t explode, that he would hold his tongue despite his
pride and arrogance. Ashby jerked the hood back over his head. “Not
my preference either, but I don’t have to look at him to enjoy
him.”

There were a few titters from the
audience. The tension in the air eased. “Ah well, perhaps if you
pass through again...”

“I’m sure my friend will be far more
willing to discuss a deal then.”

Some of the crowd began to disperse as
it became apparent no blood would be shed today. Ashby and the man
exchanged a few more words before they finally said their goodbyes.
Braith was so rigid she was frightened he might break his teeth if
he didn’t unclench his jaw. The buildings fell away as they slipped
free of the confines of the town. The bleak landscape enveloped
them, as they were encompassed by The Barrens.

Aria barely had time to take her first
easy breath before Braith’s arm wrapped around her waist. He pulled
her firmly against him and kissed her with an intensity that left
her breathless and limp. His fangs pressed against her bottom lip,
nicking it enough to draw a drop of blood. A small groan escaped
him as he nibbled lightly before his tongue swept in to claim
possession of her mouth. Pulling her hood back, he burrowed his
hand into her hair and tenderly cradled her head. She was enveloped
by love, aflame with need as she clung to him in a desperate
attempt to stay grounded despite the rising desire threatening to
engulf her. She forgot about everything that had just transpired in
her desperation to get even closer to him, to feel even more of
him.

William coughed faintly and then more
loudly as neither of them acknowledged his existence. He cleared
his throat before grunting his displeasure. Braith was the first to
pull away, his lips were still wet as he buried his face in the
hollow of her neck and pressed them against her skin. Aria brushed
his dark hair back with her fingers, relishing in the softness of
it as she sought to ease the tension clinging to him.

“I never should have brought you with
me.” Panic tore through her as her hands stilled in his hair. “It
was selfish.” He shook his head, his fangs pressed briefly against
her oversensitive, heated skin.

“There were no other options,” she
assured him when he pulled away.

His moment of weakness had vanished and
she found herself faced with the inflexible, seasoned vampire she
knew so well. A vampire she could sense trying to distance himself
from her, trying to formulate a new plan. Aria’s defiance surged to
the forefront, she braced herself for the battle she knew was about
to ensue.

“I should have left you at the tree
house.”

She snorted. “Like I would have
stayed.”

“Arianna.” It was a low growl of
warning, one she was sure would have sent many a man and vampire
running, but it only served to infuriate her further.