Rebellion (Risen Series Bk1)

Chapter 10: Irn Bru and a Cigarette

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Someone had placed clothes for me over the armchair in the corner of the room while I slept. I was glad, I didn't want to spend anymore time in my grimy joggers and oversized top. I sighed as I thought about all my belongings, my clothes and books. I wondered if the council had destroyed my flat, or had simply left it as it was...

The broken window I had jumped out of and my broken down door would be noticed soon, if it hadn't by now. No doubt my things would all be packed away and the flat fixed before a new person moved in.

Another weary sigh left me.

Stretching, I pushed those thoughts from my mind. I could hear movement downstairs and the occasional muffled voice of Atanas or Padraig. Una had yet to make an appearance and I wondered if she was even still here.

Begrudgingly, I shoved the warm covers off of me and stood, stretching once more. Bones popped and I made a contented noise. Taking the clothes from the seat, I happily changed into the jeans and lacy gypsy top, feeling much more clean and fresh, even if my hair was still a little greasy.

I hadn't slept well. Atanas had haunted my dreams and I woke hot and restless. Lack of sleep and a craving for more of his blood had left me feeling like I was hungover. Standing in front of my reflection, I wished I had makeup on hand to hide the dark bags that circled my silver eyes. I needed to make myself feel more alive and I knew exactly what to do...

Irn Bru and a cigarette, the hangover cure.

Running the silver-plated brush from the dressing table through my hair to tame blonde locks that stuck out in every direction, I gave myself a nod. I was a little nervous about going downstairs, especially as I didn't believe the self proclaimed "safe place" was really so.

"You're in a mansion in the middle of nowhere with vampires you barely know, a witch that doesn't like you and the Vampire Council most likely wanting your head on a spike; it's just another Friday night." I told my reflection.

With new found resolve, I spun on my heel and made my way out the room. I was once again captured by the paintings on the wall and took my time reading the dates carved into the frames.

The images of Jacobite soldiers with claymores in hand and kilts that flowed behind them as they ran the Highland charge towards the line of Redcoats were my favourite. These were paintings of my time, a time when I was human, it brought a warm feeling to my chest.

My heart quickened at the sound of Atanas' voice drifting up from the living room and I had to steel myself again before taking the stairs.

Atanas and Padraig were lounging on the fancy sofas, both looking equally as regal as Kings on their thrones. Padraig grinned over at me, waving me in.

"Good evening, Shylah. I hope you slept better than this grumpy ass did." He chirped, moving so I could sit next to him.

Atanas rolled his eyes and muttered something I couldn't catch under his breath. He did look a little tired and his hair was more than slightly messy. I wonder what could have possibly kept him up, if maybe the reason I tossed and turned all night was the same as his.

"I slept well, yes. I've never been in a comfier bed." I replied lightly, the lie slipping easily from my lips as I studied Atanas.

"Is there anything you need? I see the clothes fit nicely." He noted, his eyes wandering over me.

I shifted uncomfortably at his scrutiny. I didn't like the look in his eyes as he stared at the spot my bare neck met my shoulder.

"Enough, Padraig. Keep your eyes to yourself." Atanas warned with a glint of fangs.

I held my breath as the two stared at each other before Padraig grinned again, "I just wanted to see if she had your bite too. You wear her's so well, my friend."

My eyes widened and flicked back to Atanas and I caught a glimpse of the spot my fangs had pierced his skin on his neck before he covered it with his hand. He didn't meet my eyes, keeping his glare locked on a smug looking Padraig.

Why hadn't he healed it?

My scent would be on his skin. Any vampire would smell me on him and take that as a claim. I certainly hadn't had any intention of claiming him. No wonder Padraig was sure there was more going on between myself and his friend than we were telling.

"I need a cigarette." I said numbly, still staring, "And Irn Bru."

A packet of cigarettes was thrown at me and I only caught it thanks to vampire reflexes.

"Anna picked them up for you. She also stocked the kitchen with various alcohol and Irn Bru." Padraig announced.

Once again I was filled with confusion, wondering how Anna could have possibly known. Atanas could have informed her of my bad habits but Irn Bru was a secret guilty pleasure.

"She's a witch, an exceptionally strong one. She keeps the house surrounded by magic and she has a knack for knowing people." Atanas explained for me, "She knows your deepest desires before you yourself even know them."

"Though the Irn Bru is just because Anna has an addiction to the stuff, though she argues against it. I have wine and whisky that's centuries old, feel free to take what you like." Padraig continued with an easy smile.

I nodded to show I'd heard but I couldn't look at either men, especially Atanas. With every inhale, I could smell my scent wrapped around his own and it was so very right. The more my senses focused on him the more I could swear I could taste his blood on my tongue...

Jumping to my feet, I gave my thanks to Padraig and bolted outside. The air was cool against my skin, and already I felt more relaxed. The sound of rushing waves signalled that the sea was nearby and the rugged lands of the Scottish Highlands stretched out in the dark, reaching up into jagged mountains with rocky slopes.

Padraig was lucky to live somewhere so peaceful and beautiful. I closed my eyes, trying to picture what the view would look like in the burning light of day, what the sun would feel like against my skin, how my eyes would strain against its rays to try and see further. These were things I was no longer privy to but missed every day in one way or another, not that I ever said so out loud. Saying it out loud made it hurt too much, made it too real.

The only sunlight I saw anymore more was what the moon reflected in its cold light.

My fingers fumbled with the plastic wrapping around the packet of cigarettes and quickly pulled one out. The first heady inhale brought that familiar burn, taking my thoughts away from anything I was missing.

Stars glinted in the dark sky, their beauty dulled only by the light of a full moon. The howl of wolves had me chuckling to myself.

"A safe place." I muttered, "surrounded by damn Wulvers."

"They're good to have around. They protect the borders, and in return we don't go hunting on their land."

Atanas appeared by the door, his body blocking the light from the house. He watched me with bright blue eyes as he leaned casually against the brick wall, looking every bit the lazy cat.

"How symbiotic." I muttered, taking another draw of my cigarette.

"You're not in a good mood." He noted, tipping his head.

Those crystal blues studied me closely and I did my best to remain stoic. A soft breeze blew his scent towards me and I couldn't help but inhale, catching my scent still mingled with his. My eyes flicked to his neck where the imprint of my fangs still glared an angry red. He must have known they would still have been there, he must have known the cut of his shirt showed them off for the whole world to see...

For now it was only Padraig, Anna and Una who were here but from the sound of the conversation yesterday, more would come, and what would they think when they saw?

"I didn't sleep very well." I finally admitted, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I didn't either." He replied.

Awkward silence followed his words but there was an understanding too. We both knew why the other had not slept, we both knew we were awake all night wondering what could have happened between us. I shifted nervously, chewing my lip as I tried to find something to say that would fill the silence.

"Where is Una? I haven't seen her since the car."

Atanas hummed, staring off into the dark, "She's gone to summon the others."

The corner of my lips twitched up in amusement, "The rest of your merry band of rebels?"

"You're getting Robin Hood mixed up with Star Wars now." Atanas chuckled.

I laughed. A proper, full belly laugh. Grinning, I looked over at him, unable to hide my joy.

"Did Padraig explain Star Wars to you then?" I asked in amusement.

Atanas grinned back, his eyes glinting, "I explained my confusion to a few references you had made and he introduced me to the DVD's, they kept me occupied until I managed to get some sleep."

He rubbed over the mark I had left on him and my eyes were drawn to it again. The mark would eventually fade, my scent would fade from him and the accidental claim would disappear. There was only one way to make a claim like that permanent.

I had to take another long draw of my cigarette to distract myself from getting lost in the memories of how he tasted.

"The others should arrive soon and then we will begin to make our plans. It will be a full house here very soon." Atanas said, sobering up.

I frowned. Perhaps I would hide away in my room while they congregated. I didn't do well in crowds of strangers, especially obviously powerful ones that would have a hatred for me like Una did if it came to light that I was a 'pet of the council' as Una had put it. I also wouldn't put it past her to tell them about my origins.

"You are under my protection, Shylah. None of them will touch you, no matter what they think of you. Padraig has also taken quite a liking to you, and nobody will go against his word in his house." Atanas assured me.

Either I was getting worse at hiding my emotions or Atanas was very good at reading me. I gave him a small but timid smile. Even though I believed him, the force behind his words telling me he would fight to keep me safe for whatever reason, I was still uneasy.

I went to flick the butt of the cigarette but Atanas quickly grabbed my wrist to stop me. Raising an eyebrow at him, I pretended that his skin on mine didn't elicit a needy response.

"If you leave that on Padraig's nicely decorated garden, I fear I will not be able to protect you after all." He teased, "There's an ashtray by the door that looks more like a Greek statue but if you want your head on your shoulders, I'd leave it there."

I laughed but did as he suggested, not willing to risk our hosts wrath. As we turned to enter the house again, he stopped me.

"Can you fight?" He asked suddenly, studying me.

His question caught me off guard but I nodded nonetheless, wondering at his reason for asking.

"I had to learn to be able to survive the council, to fight off other newly turned to feed." I replied.

He nodded, his jaw clenching, "I would like you to train with me. It's not newly turned we'll be up against if things go badly, but ancient vampires, the best of the best. I would feel better if I knew you could handle yourself if you had the need to."

Mulling over his proposal, weighing whether I could stand to let that side of my instincts out around him without them telling me to take more.

"If you think it's important I learn more then I'll agree. Though I'm sure I can kick your ass." I chirped, giving him a smile before sauntering confidently back inside and to the living room.

I stopped short at the sight of a young woman sitting awfully close to Padraig. Her chestnut hair fell in perfect ringlets down her back, her breathing coming in short pants with the occasional breathy moan. Her head was bent at an odd angle and when I inhaled, the scent of her blood hit my nose. My fingers curled in on themselves, my nails biting into the soft flesh of my palm. Fangs descended to press against my bottom lip and I resisted breathing in again.

Padraig was feeding.

My eyes trained in on the tanned skin of her neck where her pulsepoint beat strongest. It would be so easy to join him on the couch, to sink my fangs into warm flesh and feed until my every craving was curbed or forgotten in the heady taste of human blood.

Strong hands held onto my shoulders, guiding me away from the scene and to the kitchen. It was Atanas' scent that filled my senses now, which brought on very different but equally as strong urges. I pushed away from him and grabbed a glass, filling it with cool water from which I took a strangled gulp.

After giving myself a few seconds to calm down, I straightened up again.

"That's Anna?" I choked out, blocking out the sounds coming from the livingroom.

Atanas nodded. His body was tense and ready to stop me if I made a move. I gripped the counter and took another drink. Feeling myself come back and the urges fade, I allowed myself another deep breath in.

"Her and Padraig are mates?"

Atanas' laughter had me looking over curiously. He shook his head, "Padraig isn't one to be...monogamous. I'm sure he and Anna have some sort of arrangement going."

I frowned. An arrangement? Interesting.

"You probably don't want to know." Atanas warned, "And if you ask Padraig, he will tell you in far more explicit detail than you will want to hear."

"I'll refrain from asking." I agreed.

Another moan drifted through, followed by a chuckle that was unmistakably Padraig's. I watched the door as footsteps echoed through and almost blushed at the sight of a smug looking Padraig leading in a dazed but very pleased looking Anna. Her neck bore the marks of Padraig's fangs.

"Could you pass a glass of water over, my dear? I think Anna needs it." Padraig grinned at me.

Anna let out a drunk sounding giggle that had Atanas rolling his eyes while I fumbled for a glass.

"I promise I'm quite well, Master." Anna murmured.

The glass dropped from my hand and smashed in the sink.

Master.

My whole body shuddered at the word as memories of me screaming for mercy from my own master in the form of Airell surfaced. He'd made me call him that, it showed his power over me and he had loved it.

"Shylah?"

Flinching away from the voice, not even noticing the bleeding gash on my hand from the glass, I pressed my back against the wall in an attempt to protect myself from the ghosts that haunted me.

Blue eyes came into my vision, soft and calm like still icy waters. Reality returned, my body relaxing from its defensive crouch, I straightened up. Atanas' hands cupped my face, forcing me to keep my eyes locked with his until I remembered I was safe.

I nodded, signalling I was okay.

Anna and Padraig had left the room, giving us privacy. I was embarrassed by my reaction, and angry I had let my weakness show to two strangers.

"What happened?" He asked softly, his eyes searching my face.

Dropping my gaze, I pulled away from him. Only then did I see the blood that dripped from my fingers and feel the sting of the cut on my hand. Atanas' eyes followed and there was a sharp inhale of breath. He took my hand and lifted it to his face and I could see the hunger he fought with. Sharp white fangs appeared from behind his lip and I tried to tug my hand away but his grip was firm.

"Atanas..." I stuttered, my heart hammering in anticipation.

He lowered his head and my blood stained his lips. I found myself completely frozen, unable to find the will to try and pull my hand away again, wanting to know what he was going to do. Agonisingly slowly, with blue eyes capturing silver, he licked along the length of the cut. My breathing hitched, my body overwhelmed by the heat that flared at the touch of his tongue on my skin.

My hand tingled as his saliva did it's work, quickening the healing process until all that was left was a pale pink line that would fade until there was no sign it was ever there.

I watched as Atanas licked his lips and heard the unmistakable groan of want that left him. He released my hand and stepped back, his hands fisted by his side.

"You should wash the rest of the blood off quickly." He bit out, staring at the space over my shoulder.

I frowned, staring at the drying blood that crusted over my hand.

"Now, Shylah. Before I decide to do what I want with you." He snapped, making me jump.

I took slow steps until I was around him and then bolted up the stairs to my room, slamming the door with a resounding thud that shook the walls.

Falling back against the door, I ran my fingers through my hair. Part of me berated myself for leaving, for letting him push me away again with no explanation. I should have stayed, I should have pushed his boundaries until he was forced to show me what was going on inside him. Instead I was once again left with more questions about his feelings than answers, and more questions about my own desires.

I closed my eyes, reliving the touch of his lips on my hand, my heart fluttered and heat flooded between my thighs.

"Fucking hell." I muttered to myself, banging my head off the door, "What's he doing to me?"