A Vampire To Watch Over Me [Vampire Coven Book II] Read online

  Table of Contents

  VAMPIRE COVEN BOOK 2: A VAMPIRE TO WATCH OVER ME

  Published by TORRID BOOKS

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUTTITLENew World Book 2: ArmorArmor

  Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

  D

  Prologue1400 BC

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore TORRID BOOKS

  VAMPIRE COVEN

  BOOK 2:

  A VAMPIRE TO WATCH OVER ME

  by

  C.L. Scholey

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  Published by

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  Copyright Ó 2013 by C.L. Scholey

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  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 publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-61160-474-0

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

  Editor: Melanie Ann Billings

  Printed in the United States of America

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

  TITLE

  New World Book 2: Armor

  Armor is book two in C.L. Scholey’s New World series…I was pleasantly surprised. Although I still don’t like the fantasy/fairy tale elements of the world-building, the action elements kept me turning pages as fast as I could read, and I loved the character development in this second book…

  Merrylee - Two Lips Reviews

  Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

  www.torridbooks.com

  New World Series

  New World Book 1: Shield

  New World Book 2: Armor

  New World Book 3: Impenetrable

  New World Book 4: Apparition

  New World Book 5: Engulf

  Vampire Coven Series

  Vampire Coven Bk 1: The Brethren of Tavish

  Dedication

  For Julie

  Prologue

  1400 BC

  It was a huge beast. A huff huff sound emanated from the creature as her feet splayed an impressive size on the forest floor turning leaves, twigs and dirt as she lumbered along. She looked as though she hadn’t a care in the world. There was no doubt in Laken’s mind, she could not have known he was following her. He was too good a hunter—one of his tribe’s best. The soles on his moccasin feet were but a breath of air. He was downwind. A crafty hunter was he and Laken smiled at his prowess.

  The two-thousand-pound polar bear had been terrorizing his village. Normally the white bears didn’t travel this far south. They were snow dwellers most often. Laken had seen them before, twice on a hunting expedition when meat became rare one winter. They were cunning animals: beautiful, proud, fearless and intelligent. Laken respected them a great deal. Their massive bodies yielded a great deal of sustenance yet his tribe tried not to hunt the beasts; they were deadly, unless faced with a bold, powerful warrior such as he.

  This beast had overstayed its unwanted welcome and had frightened his Nanya. Sweet little Nanya with raven-colored hair to her waist. Eyes as dark as blackened soot. Beautiful, high round breasts she bared in the heat of summer were now covered in the cooler air with the wolverine pelt Laken had hunted just for her, to show her his expertise. She would be made to know he was the best provider for her. The tribe must be shown that Laken was worthy of a mate.

  Any man who wished for a woman was tested in some type of hunting fashion geared to their expertise. A younger hunter wouldn’t have been given so great a challenge. Laken would not prove his worthiness on a wolf pup or mere cougar. This was a formidable test to challenge a formidable hunter. Laken was no exception to their laws, even though his mother had been mate to the tribe’s leader before she died. His mother’s mate, Kalen, still lived. Laken knew more was expected of him because he was a child of the leader’s hearth. He was up to the challenge—Laken had chosen to hunt the white bear. Laken had been trained by the best warrior in his tribe—his sire. There was no doubt in either man’s mind Laken would prove victorious. Kalen was happy Laken was finally seeking a mate.

  When Laken chose Nanya to be his mate, Kalen was pleased. Laken was waiting for Nanya to be of age—it had been a hard wait. It was Laken’s duty to protect the weaker members of the tribe. Nanya was born frail. Laken would have enough strength for the both of them. This challenge would prove it. Nanya was also the most beautiful woman Laken had ever set eyes on.

  Laken couldn’t stand his soon-to-be mate’s tears. Nanya’s pitiful weeping turned the normal thump thump in his chest into a pounding ache when the beast had killed her mother’s mate. Nanya’s mother already walked the next world. Her sadness did odd things to him. The chest thumping sensation was strange—as though he had run a great distance and yet he hadn’t. It had been a shock to them all to come across the remains of a fine hunter. Tayok had been a fierce warrior, a protector of the village just as Laken was a protector. No one was allowed to harm Laken’s people. The beast must die.

  The spear Laken held was his finest. Normally a somewhat humble man, he admitted this was his best piece of work. The long hard shaft was a decent weight, too heavy for a lesser man. The tip had been heated and crafted to a deadly point. The weapon was a foot taller than Laken’s five-year sapling height—exceptionally tall for a man. With his weight surpassing a mature arctic tundra wolf, the beast would have much to fear.

  The white bear disappeared around a cluster of rocks. Laken pulled up short. Her wide white ass ambled out of view with a shake of her stubby tail as though taunting him. Laken would have none of that. No animal would best him with trickery. Laken scaled the hill, fully expecting to see his quarry beneath him. He frowned as he viewed the empty forest below.

  Hmmm.

  Laken rested the bottom of his spear on the ground near his furred moccasin feet; for a moment, his fingers brushed lightly against the wood. A cool breeze ruffled his wolf furs reminding him the cold season would soon be upon them. The tribe could use the bear meat. Nanya would be well pleased to receive the gift of a large white skin for her mating. She would be the envy of the tribe, as it should be—soon she would mate the next tribe leader. Already Laken could envision his first son crawling, then walking, across Laken’s proud and fearless kill. As soon as the child was old enough, Laken could tell him his hunting tales—as Kalen had regaled Laken with his. All Laken needed was to mate, have a son and—he just
needed to find the bear.

  The wind picked up and Laken’s shoulder-length black locks covered his eyes for a moment. He should have brought a thong to tie his hair back. After gripping his hair in a fist Laken noticed the ground near his feet was dark. There were times when he had caught sight of his spirit leaving his body when the sun or clouds shifted in a strange way. The elders called the strange happening a shadow walker. Looking closer Laken realized this spirit was larger. Rounder. It was clawed.

  Laken spun to face his foe but it was too late. He caught sight of the massive white paw as it struck him across his back, and Laken was toppled off the hill onto the unyielding forest floor. He landed with a hard thud onto his chest. The beast was standing over him—eyes snowy white, fangs as long as knives. This was no ordinary snow bear.

  “What manner of creature are you?” Laken whispered horrified as he twisted to look up—way up.

  Crab-like he backed away, mindful of the ache in his chest and the pain emanating from his back. His breathing sounded off, it was raspy and a small gurgle and wheeze rolled within him. The white beast roared; it was a fearsome sound. Laken staggered to his feet and ran. He went no more than half a spear throw before the beast was in front of him. Laken skidded to a halt. On swift feet, he took off in a different direction. Again, the beast was before him, forcing a sudden halt. Laken’s chest heaved with his tortured breaths. Never in his twenty-seven summers had he seen a creature move so swiftly. The beast was and was not of this earth.

  “By the sun of a fire dancer, you’re a changeling hybrid,” Laken whispered.

  Laken had heard of such creatures but they were always man not beast. They were legend not real. But here it stood, a paw’s swipe away. Standing on hind legs, its massive bulk towered over him. Laken was unarmed.

  “If you must fight me, let me have my weapon as you have yours, beast. I have no claws or fangs. Where is your honor?”

  In answer, Laken was struck across the chest and sent flying. There would be no fair play in this animal. Laken struck a tree when he landed and flopped to the ground, floundering like a helpless fish out of water. Blood seeped from his mouth and nose; he felt it trickle from his ears. He tried to stand and faltered. A warrior must face death on two legs. Why wouldn’t his work? One leg pained terribly and was twisted back. His knee was gone, a strange sight to behold.

  Nanya’s delicate facial features swam before his eyes. If he couldn’t have her, another warrior would take his place. The idea made Laken tremble in fury. He grabbed a rock to his left and flung it with precision at his attacker. The rock merely bounced off the bear’s solid chest. She exposed more of her fangs. She was toying with him. Laken realized his end was near. Honor was everything to a warrior. Honor was taught to him from birth. Honor was not just who a man was but what he was—all he was. Laken would not sob like a small boy. He had been raised well. It was a good day to die. He would make peace with the elements.

  “I am Laken. I am a warrior. I would have been a good mate to Nanya and a good provider to any children of my hearth.” Laken’s face was raised to the sun as he said this. There was no hope for his survival. They would come across his body’s remains as they had Nanya’s mother’s mate. Poor little Nanya, must she lose both of her protectors? It didn’t seem fair to one so fragile. Worse, others may assume she was bad luck—having been surrounded in death. Filled with new panic, Laken again struggled to rise, he couldn’t let that happen.

  It was his last valiant effort as a powerful warrior and protector and proved too much, Laken slumped to his side. His chest was wheezing in a strange odd way. His right arm was bent back and try as he might, Laken couldn’t get it to unfold from the odd angle it sat in. A warrior should die straight.

  The image of another spirit walker moved within Laken’s sight. It floated to him from a tree until a man stood less than a pebble’s toss away. Laken looked up. The man was as big as Laken and blocked the setting sun from his view, dressed all in black fur. His hair reached the tips of his shoulders and was dark as night. His eyes were as white as the bear’s. Fangs glistened from his mouth. Another hybrid oddity.

  “I will not beg,” Laken said, his breath came in short pants. “I only ask you keep this beast from harming my people. There have been too many losses. If you kill many more warriors my people will not survive the cold season. Prey on someone else for a time.”

  The man-creature squatted near Laken. He cocked his head for a moment then reached to touch Laken’s chest. Laken cringed but he would not cry out. If the beast and man wanted to play with him there was nothing he could do.

  “You are dying.” The man’s tone was neither smug nor amused.

  “I know,” Laken muttered. Once more little Nanya’s face flashed before his eyes and Laken couldn’t stand the thought of her dying, or being cast out. “Please.”

  “I thought you would not beg.”

  “Not for me—never for me.” Laken was gasping for air. “My tribe—leave them be.”

  “You mean leave your female be?”

  The hybrid man was astute. “Nanya could harm no one. She is small in stature, afraid of bugs. She cries if I bring home a dead rabbit. Funny, I know. But she is sweeter than air after a rain storm and as helpless as a newborn fawn. She would be little more than a snack for a bear so large.”

  “Ursus, my bear friend, stopped eating female flesh long ago.”

  “And you?”

  “I do not eat flesh. Blood is more to my liking.”

  “Then take mine before it all spills to the forest floor and be done with it.”

  “I will give you a last chance to beg for your life. I may find it amusing to spare you.”

  “I cannot. I have made my peace with the elements. I will beg no man. I am no coward.”

  The hybrid man turned and looked at the white beast. “What say you, my friend? Shall we treat ourselves?”

  The bear offered a gruff reply in return, and Laken couldn’t help but think the man and creature were talking. The man smiled and nodded. He then sighed. The hybrid man reached out to take Laken’s hand in his. It was a touch of compassion.

  “My friend thinks I have walked the earth alone for too long with only a bear for a companion,” the hybrid man muttered. “A thousand years is a long time.”

  “A thousand years alone?” Laken’s voice was little more than a whisper. “No wonder you are so cruel. Sadness can do many things to a man.”

  “If I were cruel, I would ram my hands against your broken bones.”

  “True enough. Please, just leave my little Nanya alone.”

  “You are dying.” The man hybrid reminded him again. “I can fix you.”

  “How?”

  “Do you wish to live?”

  “Yes, but how…”

  “You must follow my rules, or there will be consequences. If you choose to obey, I can make sure you watch over your little Nanya for the rest of her life.”

  “I will follow you into death and beyond,” Laken swore.

  For some reason the hybrid man laughed. Everything went dark as Laken felt sharp fangs pierce his throat.

  * * * *

  When Laken woke he was in a strange cave stretched out on a huge pile of furs. The polar bear was lying near his feet watching him. The next thing he noted was his arm that had been at an odd angle looked fine and straight. His knee was back to normal, he could still be a warrior. There was also no wheeze in his chest, he could breathe fine.

  “How do you feel?”

  The hybrid man suddenly appeared from nowhere. Laken was startled but not afraid. In fact, he felt invincible.

  “I am hungry,” Laken muttered. No, he was starving. But he needed to see Nanya.

  “I will help you hunt after a while, once you have learned my demands.” The man was assessing him.

  Laken was annoyed, he needed no help to hunt, he was a warrior.

  “You are the first human I have turned. Do not make me regret it.”

  Tu
rned?

  “You will need to obey my laws.”

  Laken supposed he owed this man his life—in a strange way. It would not hurt to humor him for now.

  “Just what are your laws?”

  “You are never to turn anyone without my permission.”

  “Turn how? Why do you keep saying that word? Did you flip me over?”

  “In a sense, I suppose I did. You must also be careful on who you feed. Taking a leader of a tribe is serious. When the head of a tribe dies there is lawlessness and fear and confusion. Our kind could be in danger if this happens.”

  “Our kind?”

  “You are a vampire, my friend. What is your name? Mine is Tavish.”

  “A vampire? I do not understand, Tavish. My name is Laken, and I must return to my tribe.”

  “You can never return to your tribe.”

  “But you said I could watch over Nanya.”

  “Yes, you can watch over her for her entire life. But you mustn’t go near her, trust me on this. Your urges are new. You are too young to resist; in time, I can teach you. For now, be still; I will find you what you crave. Then we may talk more.”

  Tavish left, taking the bear with him, trusting Laken to obey. Laken wasn’t a man who took orders—he was the son of the tribe leader, he gave them. With a mere thought, Laken was moving faster than he ever had in his life, away from the cave. He had never felt stronger. Nanya would be well pleased with her new mate. No one else could have what was Laken’s, no one would dare harm her now, or cast her out; her safety was all that mattered.

  Laken found his love by a stream near their tribe, with waterproof bladders and stomachs of animal kills to fill for the night. Nanya looked so beautiful. The orange of the dusky setting sun as it slipped down to the tree line shone on her hair making it glisten like the sleekest of pelts. Water had dripped between her partially exposed breasts and as he watched, a droplet slipped from his view. She cupped the fresh liquid that dribbled over her small jaw in tiny hands. Laken could hear her breathe; he could hear each droplet of water as it splashed to the ground. He heard the thump thump of the organ in her chest. It beat for him, she breathed only for him. Laken ached to hold her, she was his after all. Nanya stood and began to walk away. She cried out in surprise when Laken suddenly stood before her from the shadows.