Almost Dawn: Volume Ii

Copyright © 2014 by Andrea Cunningham.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 01/15/2014

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CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

His lips curved into an evil grin as he hovered in the air above her, taunting her with the savory scent of pure male and unearthly power. You are mine, Cora Knight. If the end of this war keeps you in my land for thousands of years, or eventually separates us for the rest of eternity, you will always be mine. He flashed that evil smile for a moment longer before slowly rising up from the bed and leaving the room.

With much gratitude to my wonderful editor, Bonnie Myhrum, whose hard work and support have never faltered, and for steering me in the right direction when I tend to veer off course. I am eternally grateful.

To my team at Xlibris, thank you for your enthusiasm and eagerness to help make my dreams come true. You guys rock!

A special thanks to Rachel Snooks for her stunning photography and keen eye.

To Ben Pierce, who has done such a marvelous job on my cover art.

And last, but definitely not least, thank you God, for giving me this wonderful gift that I may pursue my passion in this life you have blessed me with, that I may inspire and entertain others with my love for writing, and for bestowing upon me a very… intense imagination.

I would like to dedicate this series of romantic tales to my family and friends, whose love, support, and inspiration have been endless.

To Mom, my angel on earth. To Dad, my fairy tale hero.

And to my three siblings—I never could have done it without you.

And now here you have it: the dangerous, thrilling enchantment of your paranormal lives, as I have promised.

ONE

Two months later

Goosnargh, The Land of Vampires

S low down, Jade  . . .

Her footsteps echoed loudly on the cold, damp streets of Arthepos. It had been dark for nearly an hour; one hour since the moon had reappeared to drown the universe in a shimmering black cloak. It was a cloudy night; there were few stars scattered sporadically across the endless, ebony sky. And although darkness surrounded her, the ancient light seemed to hover above her and follow her every move.

Jade wrapped her arms tightly around her waist and pushed hard against the wind that would lead her past the giant, eerie castle that had once been the home of the High Fiend of Goosnargh. It was vacant now. After Zeke Argonimas, king of vampires, had miraculously vanished without a trace, his minions had abandoned the castle and released every prisoner who had once filled the loathsome dungeon.

Jade shuddered, glancing toward the dark, gloomy castle that had once been forbidden for any vampire citizen to approach. The castle had been strictly reserved for the High Fiend and his minions. No ordinary vampire was allowed to enter, and if one did, the vampire was beheaded on the spot.

On any other night, any normal night, Jade despised the very sight of the ancient stone that created walls as high as the sky, and the giant black flags that flapped in the wind like a magical curse of death. But as darkness crept upon her and the strange awareness that someone was watching her increased, she actually thought about entering the forbidden, fearful castle just to escape the hovering presence of danger.

Stop it, Jade . . .

Jade pushed aside her inner thoughts and breathed out in frustration, releasing a puff of fog to engulf the midnight, autumn air. It was cold, colder than most nights in Arthepos. She cursed under her breath for leaving her horse at home and choosing to hunt on foot.

She enjoyed hunting on foot; she enjoyed the thrill of chasing down her prey until the animal grew tired and surrendered to her will. On occasion, Jade would find a handsome male to feed from, generally allowing only the morning sun to quench her thirst.

But not tonight. Tonight she felt like being alone.

At least she hoped she was alone.

Jade had fed from a few scarce animals roaming the no-man’s land, and then quickly headed for the comfort of her father’s home on the northern border of Arthepos. She was slowly making her way under an umbrella of stars and the quiet, dead land that had once been swarming with beauty.

Jade was never one to be paranoid. As a child she had never looked under her bed for monsters, never checked her closet for any strange demons, or insisted that her father leave on a lit torch inside her bedchamber. And as an adult, Jade had never thought twice about roaming through Arthepos unaccompanied or hunting in a strange forest without the protection of weapons. She often strolled across an open plain in the middle of daylight. After all, she was a vampire, not to mention the chief High Anarchy’s daughter. Danger was a word that never entered her mind.

Until now.

An ice-cold shudder wrapped tightly around Jade’s senses, causing her heart to race and her body to tremble from something other than the crisp, fall weather. She quickly turned to stare down the vacant street, seeing only the wind blowing leaves and trash particles down the steep slope of the moat that surrounded the castle.

The chilling wind brushed the short length of Jade’s black hair around her face, goosebumps covered her skin like a silken web, and snowflakes started to fall in thick, wet clumps. It was nothing abnormal, nothing unusual, nothing to be afraid of.

Right?

You’re pathetic . . .

Jade restrained her fear and chuckled under her breath for allowing herself to be frightened by something as primitive as the wind.

She really was pathetic.

Quickly turning around, Jade started forward in a hurry, only to come to a dead stop.

A sharp flash of panic plundered deeply beneath her skin as she stared at the man standing before her. He was as tall as the distant castle lingering somewhere in the shadowy background; his shoulders were wide and his arms were long and stretched down at his sides. He was wearing a pair of dark trousers, and a thin white shirt was spread tightly over his very muscular chest. He looked like no other man Jade had ever seen. He was everything sexy and handsome. Everything delicious and male.

Uncertain if she were still in reality, Jade blinked several times before focusing her eyes on the remarkable, sharp features of his face. His skin was dark, almost as if he had lived under the sun his entire life. His eyes were soul deep – a dull, winter gray that hindered every thought except stepping closer to take a better look. Shoulder-length hair hung down in thick, brown curls. His expression was unreadable, but the hard lines of his face were nothing short of perfection.

Jade thought about saying something. She thought about commenting on the weather or the recently forming snowflakes, or the fact that it was after midnight and how oddly vacant the entire city of Arthepos appeared to be. But before she could collect her rambling thoughts, the man opened his perfect mouth to speak.

"Where are you going, querida?" His Spanish accent whispered in smooth tones.

Jade was stunned at the rich, male-deepness of his voice. It cloaked her, soaking deeply into the fibers of her bones.

I… uh, Jade stammered, feeling as if she were a little girl instead the chief High Anarchy’s daughter. She was young, but she was also a priestess in training, a woman of high stature, a woman who was fully capable of conducting an intelligent conversation. Even if she happened to be speaking to the most handsome, most exotic man she had ever laid eyes on.

Realizing that she had not yet answered the man, Jade quickly cleared her throat and steadied her voice. I was just admiring the castle, she lied, looking up at the ghostly stone walls and barren terrace that was beginning to sprout forth green growth in the cracks in the stone. She attempted to make her voice sound casual, but there was no way of hiding the high-pitched squeak that followed with every word.

Jade was a full-grown vampire. She was independent, intelligent, spontaneous, and she loved men. Not that she wouldn’t love to sink her teeth into this delicious piece of male flesh; Jade was not stupid. It was never a good idea to share blood with a stranger whom she had no recollection of ever seeing before. Except for the fact that he reeked of delicious male scents and blood.

The last word seemed to grab Jade’s senses, pulling her in with a force that no vampire could deny.

Blood . . .

It was apparent that this man had recently fed. And it was apparent that whatever or whomever the man had fed from, it had been another demon.

The strange man didn’t respond; he stood before her, looking every bit like a dream.

Casually, perhaps a little too casually, he glanced up at the silent castle, breathed, and then he slowly looked back at her.

When Jade caught his gaze for the second time, something changed. His eyes were still a cold, winter gray that seemed to unclothe every inch of her body. His arms were still bulging with muscle, still stretched down at his sides, and still very appealing to stare at. What changed was his hair.

It looked longer than before, thicker, swaying down past his chest in wavy clumps of brown fur.

Fur?

Jade blinked several times before slowly backing up. She wasn’t afraid, not yet; but there was something definitely wrong with this man. Something strange and unusual. No vampire could change his appearance; it was impossible.

But if he wasn’t a vampire…

You. Jade breathed in a rough drawl, taking a quick step backward. "What are you doing here?"

The man smiled, flashing perfect white teeth that seemed to paralyze her movements. I go wherever I please now that your land is rendered defenseless. There is nothing and no one to stop me. His words snaked around her, squashing any ounce of courage that had once flourished through her veins.

Leave at once! Jade raised her voice, pushing her arms forward as if the gesture would frightened the demon away.

The man threw his head back in laughter. When he looked at her again, his face was no longer beautifully carved to perfection; it was slowly changing. Changing into a hideous beast that had long been forgotten in the demon world.

Zeke’s well-known disdain for his fellow demons had purposely and cruelly restricted a certain breed of demons and nearly led them into extinction. These temperamental and unique demons were hunted for years by Zeke and his minions. The vampire king had managed to kill thousands until they were driven away to live in the rough, secluded mountains of Nova – a place thriving with an abundance of silver and other metals that were extremely dangerous to vampires, which provided the perfect shelter for such an endangered species.

But like many other species that Zeke had managed to drive to extinction, these unique demons had long been forgotten after the High Fiend restricted them to Nova, where it was forbidden for them to leave.

And as generations passed, vampires had long forgotten about their existence. But after this beautiful man ripped his shirt from the seams and the hardness of his chest bulged with thick, brown fur, Jade’s eyes widened upon realizing what she was seeing.

Werewolf.

A loud, chilling howl was wrenched from the man’s throat as he stared up at the pearly moon that was circling directly above him. Large, dog-like fangs absorbed his mouth, a long snout took the place of his nose, and thick, brown hair covered his entire body with rough, course fur.

He knelt down on the ground, moaning loudly as the transformation took control of his body. The man was hunched over on his knees, his head was hanging low to the ground, his flesh ripping to reveal a large, dog-like figure that was nearly as tall as the trees. He let out another horrendous howl, lifting his once beautiful head to glare up at the moon.

Fear clouded every instinct that Jade had been born with. Her fangs erected and an urgent hiss was wrenched from her throat right before she turned and sprinted off into the darkness. She ran for what seemed like hours. Her legs threatened to buckle from the rising fear and the strenuous energy she was forcing her body to endure.

She zipped through the air like a bolt of lightning, dodging tree after tree, racing through valley after valley until everything around her grew quiet and still. But she kept running. There was no way in hell she was going to stop, not when the safety of her father’s home was so near.

Jade breathed heavily, like she had never breathed before. Her lungs ached, her heart was pounding with fear and over-exertion; every fiber in her body was tensed and straining. She ran through the night as if her life depended on it.

And perhaps it did.

As she sped through the darkness of Arthepos, Jade finally caught a glimpse of her father’s large, wooden cabin in the near distance. She felt an overwhelming spirit calm her senses, uniting her body with the realization that she would soon be safe. But then that same unnerving prickle glided up and down her arms. It crept closer until the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her heart stopped somewhere in the center of her throat.

Jade quickly turned to glance off into the night behind her. She saw nothing.

Come on, Jade; almost there . . .

Her inner voice urged her forward, filling her with the added courage she needed to turn around and bolt forward the few, last feet.

She heard a soft growl come from somewhere in the background – a loud, dog-like snarl that seemed entirely too close. Without thinking, Jade turned back around, her fangs lengthened, her body tensed, her arms prepared to strike out at the dangerous werewolf that lay waiting in the sleeve of night.

Jade hadn’t been given time to blink; a strong, solid force slammed straight into her, knocking her completely off the ground and throwing her high into the air. The ground clashed hard with her back and shoulders, swiping her breath away in a swift, painful instant. She couldn’t breathe; her head had hit something sharp and everything appeared to be spinning in fuzzy black-and-white images. A dull flash of pain bounced back and forth between her head and shoulders.

Jade closed her eyes for a brief moment and attempted to scream, but just as the words were on the tip of her tongue, that same hard, solid body collided straight into her for the second time, causing everything to disappear and leave nothing behind but the fear of her own death.

TWO

Mantolpiah, The Land of Elves

T he sharp sound of steel hitting against steel sliced through the air at a violent, quick pace. The muscles in his arms were burning, his legs were tiring, his head pounding, his stomach lurching from the blazing heat bearing down upon him. The sun was high in the sky, warming his body to that of a fire. His forehead dripped with sweat as he circled around in the close-spaced arena, never taking his eyes off the tall, menacing vampire draped in a long, black cloak.

With great ease, Nathaniel Papillon, Prince of Mantolpiah, waved his sword in the air as if he were aiming for an enemy. His sparring partner groaned in frustration, darting past him with barely inches to spare. Without a moment of hesitation, Nathaniel lunged toward the vampire, but he was too late. His sword sliced through the air without tearing open so much as his cloak.

You are quick, Gideon; a beneficial asset when sparring is concerned, Nathaniel proclaimed, side-stepping to the left to escape a blow to his head.

Gideon Lancaster chuckled under his breath, Yes, but if you catch me, I’m certain I’ll lose at least one limb. He darted forward only to clash against Nathaniel’s steel blade.

Both men struggled to overpower the other, both refusing to surrender, both capable of sparring until the sun dipped behind the atmosphere to allow the moon to take its place.

You will consider yourself lucky if a limb is all that you lose. Nathaniel growled, pushing hard against Gideon’s chest and sending the vampire flying to the ground. The elf prince quickly sped forward, stopping once the tip of his blade touched the sensitive skin of Gideon’s neck. Do you yield, vampire?

The hood of Gideon’s cloak fell back to reveal a pair of unnatural dark eyes and an expression nothing short of irritation.

A slight grin curved the corner of Nathaniel’s mouth, his stark, male features softening once Gideon finally nodded in submission. Removing the blade from Gideon’s throat, Nathaniel stretched forth his arm, offering it to his worthy opponent.

The vampire stared at him for one gloomy second before grabbing Nathaniel’s forearm and lifting himself to his feet. Gideon replaced his hood over his head and slid his sword inside his scabbard. Perhaps later I could interest you in a rematch. His tone was exasperated.

For the first time since they had begun practicing, which was over an hour ago, Nathaniel literally felt his heart pulsing through his temples. His body ached with the need to drink an entire river dry and to sleep away the next three days. It wasn’t that he was out of practice, but the difficulty of fighting a vampire as opposed to his fellow elves, well, the task was considerably more complicated. And then there was the small fact that his mind hadn’t been completely focused on his own sparring techniques; he had been too busy observing.

Watching a vampire move in battle was nothing short of remarkable. Nathaniel hated to admit it, but he could not deny the truth. Vampires were extremely gifted when it came to combat.

Nathaniel had not only been holding his own against Gideon, who at one time had been the High Fiend of Goosnargh’s top military general, but he was also studying the way in which Gideon fought.

Nathaniel had sparred many times with Gideon over the past several months, and each time he had memorized the vampire’s precise movements. He learned when to dodge, when to strike, when to jump, and even when to mimic a somersault by falling to the ground like an acrobatic gymnast.

Unlike his gift of inhuman strength that had been granted from the gods of Antarcious, the one and only god whom the elves worshiped, Nathaniel wasn’t certain if his spectacular memory was a gift as well. It seemed impossible for him to forget. It was clearly a beneficial asset when it came to fighting or training his men for battle.

Nathaniel took a deep breath. Perhaps, but I’m not entirely certain that the outcome will be in my favor the second time around. He slowly breathed out, noting just how badly his muscles ached from the long, strenuous workout.

No doubt. Gideon grumbled under his breath, falling into step beside the elf prince.

Silently, both men walked through the open arena where several other elves were practicing their battle techniques and properly cleaning their weapons before neatly stacking their swords and spears in a long row inside the building that was used as a barracks.

The thundering sound of horses galloping in the nearby pasture echoed throughout the flowering field of clover, hay, and prairie grass. Carefully stepping over several toddlers playing in a large mud puddle, both men strode through the opened fence where Nathaniel latched the gate shut behind them.

Walking up the rocky, winding path that led to the main city, Nathaniel cursed under his breath for advising his father to build the barracks on the opposite side of the city as opposed to right outside his bedroom door.

Ignoring the burning in his legs and thighs, Nathaniel struggled to keep pace with Gideon’s fast, long stride. It wasn’t, by any means, difficult, but then again it wasn’t easy. Vampires were born warriors with superior strength. Hell, Nathaniel wouldn’t doubt that Gideon had somersaulted out of his mother’s womb, swinging a sword and dressed in chain mail.

It wasn’t that he was jealous; he was envious perhaps, but not jealous. It was one of the rare qualities that Nathaniel had learned to respect in the demons. Their ability to outfight him only made him try harder, move quicker, and endure more. It was something that he simply thrived on achieving, and he wouldn’t stop until he succeeded.

As the winding path came to a tiring close, Nathaniel and Gideon were greeted by a stunning elf with long, auburn hair that danced in the wind from the gentle breeze. Her wide, brown eyes were vivid and full of color, the long skirts of her dress swayed freely about her petite, womanly figure as she lightly ran her hands over the small bump of her stomach. A pleasant smile reached her eyes as she looked at both men.

There you two are, Hannah’s tone held a hint of sarcastic annoyance. I have been looking all over for you. Concern entered her voice and she placed her hands on her hips after noticing the long swords that each man carried. She abruptly looked up to meet Gideon’s eyes. You shouldn’t be out here, Gideon. It’s dangerous to be sparring in this heat.

Gideon came to a halt directly in front of his wife and placed his hands on her slender shoulders. I’m quite all right, my love; the sun is lowering and is no danger to me as long as I wear my robe. He moved his hands to gently place them on her stomach. And how is our son?

Nathaniel watched his sister’s wide, brown eyes light up with dozens of sparkles. The soft features of her face brightened up the world as if they were standing in the direct path of the sun. He had never seen a woman more delighted or ecstatic by the mere mention of her unborn child.

Nathaniel couldn’t help but strive to understand and share in his sister’s delight, but no matter how hard he tried, he remained puzzled. The child’s existence was no doubt a blessing, but it was also disconcerting.

In all honestly, Nathaniel was happy for his sister. He wanting nothing more than to see Hannah wed to a man who had vowed to protect, honor, and love her for eternity. Gideon Lancaster was a good man; Nathaniel had made certain of that. It pained Nathaniel to admit the truth, but like every member of the Brotherhood and of the High Council of Mantolpiah’s leaders, Nathaniel had been blessed with the four virtues that had defined the Mantolpian people for centuries: bravery, discernment, discipline, and faith.

When Byron Papillon, Nathaniel’s father and king of Mantolpiah, had first talked with Nathaniel and the High Council about bringing a vampire warrior into the city to help train the elves how best to fight against other vampires, Nathaniel had detested the very idea. As the chief military general he had thought it preposterous and demeaning, yet a necessary course of action that needed to be taken. And grudgingly, Nathaniel had put aside his animosity toward Gideon long enough to allow his father’s orders to be carried out. But Gideon’s unyielding devotion toward his own land and people, and also his boundless love for Hannah, had long earned him Nathaniel’s respect as a warrior, and also as a fellow demon.

It was a rarity for Nathaniel to find someone worthy of his respect. There were few men whom Nathaniel admired, and Gideon was now one of those men.

Breaking Nathaniel free from his thoughts, Hannah’s jubilant voice rose when answering Gideon’s question. He has your strength. It frightens me to see how powerful he will become once he is born. Hannah’s once bubbly voice quickly drained into a sullen volume, no doubt remembering that her unborn baby had attained the ability to control the wind.

After Hannah had been captured by Zeke and his minions, she had learned for the first time that her fetus was attempting to protect her by causing a searing, cold chill to flourish through her body when she was in danger. Gideon had felt the chilling coldness as well. And once Zeke attempted to harm Hannah, the fetus unfolded his power by causing funnels of wind to form in the sky, and whip and whirl the vampires through the air until his strength rapidly declined. There was no other child in existence with such a powerful gift. It was unnerving as much as it was intriguing. And much to his dismay, Nathaniel was thrilled to be receiving a nephew, but he could not deny that he thoroughly shared in Hannah’s concern on more than one occasion.

Gideon lifted Hannah’s hand to his lips and spoke softly. He will be perfect, my love.

Hannah quickly seemed to agree with her mate and her face once again lifted into an endearing smile.

After awkwardly standing in front of the newlyweds for what seemed like endless, treacherous hours, Nathaniel cleared his throat, attempting to ignore the uncomfortable, open display of affection. If you will excuse me, I think I shall retire. Nathaniel made a slight bow toward Gideon and headed in the direction of his father’s tent.

His lungs felt tight as he followed the narrow cobblestone trail leading him past the little church cabin built into the trunk of a giant sequoia tree. As he rounded the corner, he passed several tents belonging to elves who were standing about, enjoying the brisk, autumn air. A stone fountain directly ahead, with a small carved statue of an elf pouring water from a pitcher into a large round basin below, marked the very center of the city.

Nathaniel ignored the wandering eyes and mischievous giggles from several elf women lying on the stone wall, dipping their feet and bare legs into the shallow pool. He ignored their chatter and whispers, as if he were alive merely for their lustful entertainment.

A sudden bolt of fury boiled thick in his blood; his hands clenched into fists as one of the women hiked up the skirts of her dress, silently inviting him, and any other male who happened to be watching, to observe the droplets of water inching down the long length of her bare legs.

Stealing a quick glance toward the women, Nathaniel abruptly lost his temper. Irritation clouded his head and his palms began to release sweat as he reached for the hilt of his sword. Standing nearly ten feet away from the flaunting women, Nathaniel narrowed his eyes in disgust and stepped forward.

The women’s eyes widened upon realizing the elf’s intentions of pulling loose his sword, and the anger boiling in the wicked, dark depth of their prince’s eyes. All three women scrambled to retrieve their shoes, shrieking away in horror once Nathaniel reached the wall of the fountain.

None of the women looked back, but Nathaniel stared after them, uncertain if he was more piqued by their unladylike, offensive behavior, or at their cowardly retreat. Breathing out in frustration, Nathaniel shook his head, relieving himself of the anger that was slowly beginning to submerge into exhaustion.

Hesitantly, Nathaniel slid the blade of his sword back inside its scabbard when a familiar, taunting voice appeared from behind him. There was no need to turn around; he recognized the luscious, strong scent of sandalwood almost instantly. Her perfume drifted deeply into his lungs, causing his breathing to become accidental rather than required.

Cora Knight . . .

The raw, stimulating image of this woman blinded him for one careless moment, erasing everything except for her perfect body attired in a tight, leather bodysuit, her long silver hair dancing wildly across her perfect, ivory skin.

He shouldn’t turn around. He should walk