Heart of a Warrior Read online

  Heart of a Warrior

  by Theodora Lane

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published By: Taliesin Publishing

  PO Box 155, Sanford, MI

  www.taliesinpublishing.com

  Heart of a Warrior

  Copyright © 2013 by Theodora Lane

  Digital Release: August 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-962916-000-9

  Editor: Lisa Dugan

  Cover Art: Georgia Woods

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Table Of Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Excerpts from other Taliesin Books:

  Tarnished by Becca Jameson

  Chasing Dreams by Kelli Evans

  Blurb

  Nicodemus has trained to kill vampires since being orphaned at sixteen, and he’s very good at it. Nights spent slaying bloodsuckers, along with some comedic commentary from his enchanted lizard sidekick, Cho, make Nic very happy. He’s used to being a loner because being with him could get a woman killed, but if there are virgins to be rescued, Nic's your man.

  When a group of evil vampires meet for dinner and drinks at a midnight party, virgins may be on the menu, but Fiona never expects to find herself one of the party favors. She’s never needed a man to rescue her, and she’s never been impressed by manly muscles and heroic deeds…until Nic walks in and definitely gets the job done. She’s awestruck to meet a man who can hold his own alongside her fighting skills and feisty attitude. And he's getting under her skin, making her hot, and making her rethink her "no sex before marriage" policy. Because, yeah, Fiona is a virgin, and she's not giving it away to just anyone.

  These unlikely comrades in arms might just rescue each other, if the vampires don't kill them first.

  Chapter One

  Fiona groaned softly and forced her eyelids open. The glare from the light made her head hurt, and pain surfaced like a sledgehammer to her brain. She closed her watering eyes, turned her head away from the light, and tried again. Good, eyes open. Next, she struggled to focus, and for a few minutes she saw multiples of everything.

  What the hell?

  The last thing she remembered was winning both the staff and sword competition at her dojo and beating that big ass who thought that because she was a woman and small, he could take her. Afterward, she’d met Beth, her best friend, at a bar to celebrate and then drove home. She’d gotten out of her car and then…

  Nothing.

  Fiona’s eyes finally focused. A young girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen, was lying asleep next to her. Completely naked. She blinked to clear her vision. Turning her head, she saw two other girls, both looking younger than eighteen years old, naked and asleep. No wait, she told herself. Not asleep. Unconscious.

  Shit, what the hell is going on? She shivered. Running her hands over her tummy and up to her breasts, the sick realization hit her. She was naked too.

  This can’t be good. Someone is going to have to answer a few questions.

  She forced her head toward the light. Voices, some talking, some lowered, and others urging someone on, echoed in the chamber.

  Across the room, a young couple was having sex on a stone table. The young man lay on top of a bored-looking, long-legged blonde. Fiona’s gaze traveled over the other people in the room.

  What the hell? A toga party?

  Everyone was either naked or dressed as ancient Romans. Besides the couple on the table, there were two naked men, four men dressed in togas, and two in what looked like Roman gladiator costumes.

  Is this some stupid fraternity prank? I am going to kick someone’s ass for this.

  She focused on the couple on the table again. He’d pulled the woman on top of him, and she was riding him like a cowgirl as he bucked his hips. Several of the men stood around the table encouraging them.

  Fiona’s eyes widened as her gaze swept around the room. A man leaning against the wall jerked off the man next to him.

  The woman riding the young guy began to moan, softly at first, and then louder. Fiona jerked her gaze back to them. An orgasm, Fiona thought, but it sounded fake. Way too When Harry Met Sally. Way too much thrashing. The young man groaned as he came. He grabbed her wrists, rolled her over, and straddled her. Jerking her hair to the side, he exposed her neck.

  The woman struggled. “Get off me, you bastard!”

  “Shut up, bitch.”

  He pinned her arms on either side of her under his knees. He opened his mouth, and his canine teeth grew very, very long. Using his hand to hold her head to the side, he lowered his mouth to her neck and licked her throat.

  “Don’t! I didn’t say you could!” She tried to buck him off, but he had her pinned. The guy laughed and then sank his teeth into her neck.

  Fiona blinked. Rubbed her eyes. Blinked again.

  The man was lapping—no, slurping up the blood flowing from the bite. A few minutes later, he raised his head, his chin bloody, and licked the blood that had escaped him from her neck and shoulders. Then he stood, fists raised, to applause. The woman sat up, rubbing her throat. The marks on her neck were gone. Crawling off the table, she huddled against the wall with her arms wrapped around her naked body as she glared at everyone around her.

  This is no frat party. This just got serious.

  She had to get out of there, and if she had to take a few of these assholes out when she did, so be it. They did not know who they were fucking with.

  The girl beside her moaned. Fiona turned her head and cursed. There were three young girls to think about. Desperate for some way to get herself and the girls out of there, she looked around at the other people.

  I need a plan. Then I kick ass and forget about taking names.

  Some of the men, the ones dressed like gladiators and the ones with togas, wore swords.

  I must be living right.

  Rising onto her elbow, she looked at one of the guards. He’d been watching the entertainment, cheering the guy on. Now, he checked out the naked girls. She caught his eye, smiled, and tossed her head like she’d seen Beth do a thousand times at the bar. He grinned at her and approached.

>   Shit, it works! Her brain raced. She had his attention, but now she needed him closer so she could get her hands on that sword. It hung at his side, nearly reaching the floor, but was all wrong for the Roman costume. Fuck historical accuracy. Its longer length would be a definite advantage against the shorter swords the others carried.

  The young girls were waking. One of them began to whimper. Another sat up and looked around, bewildered. Realizing she was naked, she tried to cover herself with her arms and hands. Frightened eyes looked to Fiona. Children’s eyes.

  “Where are we?” one of them asked as she rolled over and stared around the room.

  “Shh. Keep your voice down. I don’t know, but don’t worry, I’m going to get us out of here.”

  The little girl nodded. Another sniffed and asked, “How? You’re naked.”

  Fiona smirked. “Naked or not, I’ve got a few moves.” Whoever these people were, they’d picked the wrong girl for their games. A girl with a black belt. A girl who was a master swordsman. A girl with an attitude.

  “Stay behind me, whatever happens.” Fiona’s voice was a whisper. They nodded, eyes wild with fear. As they clung to each other for comfort, the youngest girl wept softly.

  The guard sauntered over to Fiona. She glanced up at him. He wasn’t wearing anything under that short skirt, and she could see straight up to his package.

  Fiona cocked one leg over the other and ran her hand over her bare hip in a caress. It was the best imitation of Princess Leia she could manage. As she looked up his skirt, unimpressed by what she saw, she had to stop herself from saying, “You’re a little short for a storm trooper.”

  “You’re a forward bitch, for a virgin.” He grinned down at her, not bothering to hide his fangs.

  Fangs? Shit.

  She swallowed and said, “Some virgins aren’t too keen on staying that way, if you get my meaning.” Inside, she groaned. Did I really just say ‘keen’?

  He looked around to see if anyone was watching and knelt next to her, taking a lock of her hair in his fingers. She spotted the small knife on the other side of his belt. She’d go for it first.

  “Do we get to pick?” She ran her hand over his bent knee and gave it a squeeze. It was warm. For some reason, she’d expected it to be cold. The urge to jerk her hand away almost overpowered her, but she willed herself to keep it resting on his leg.

  “No, you don’t, and I don’t get to fuck you. You belong to Ivan, and I don’t mess with anything that belongs to that control freak.” He jerked his head to point Ivan out. Then he turned back to her. “He’s initiating his apprentice, and at the end of the ceremony, you’ll be dead. Like all the others.”

  Fiona eyed the man he’d mentioned. He looked about forty, well-built, good-looking. He leaned against the wall with arms folded, waiting for whatever they had planned to begin. She watched as he reached behind him and yanked down on his toga.

  “I’m Vlad’s apprentice.” The gladiator’s eyes strayed to the young girls huddled against the wall. “I’m going to get her.” He pointed to one of the young girls. As he grinned, Fiona couldn’t stop staring at the long teeth in his mouth.

  This is not a normal man. Her mind added everything she had seen together and made the connection. Then, not believing the answer, she ran it through again.

  Vampires? Ohshitohshitohshit.

  Fiona plastered her grin on her face and held his gaze. Her hand reached for the blade. Please, she prayed, for once let the movies be right.

  She slipped the knife from its sheath. Took a breath. She plunged it into his chest where his heart should be located.

  He looked down for a second, dismay on his face, and then disappeared in a puff of smoke. His sword clattered to the ground.

  “Shit!” She slapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. One of the girls started to keen, loud and high. It wavered in the air for a second, and then became a full-fledged, hair-raising, bloodcurdling scream.

  Everyone in the room turned toward them. So much for sneaking out.

  It’s now or never. Fiona grasped the pommel of the long sword with two hands and stood, lifting it in front of her. She took her fighting stance.

  “Get behind me, now!” she commanded the girls over her shoulder. They scrambled to their feet and against the wall.

  It was completely insane, but it felt totally right. Not the naked part, of course. That was creepy, and oddly, she felt both vulnerable and excited.

  Thoughts of possible paths crossed her mind. Fiona didn’t know whether some unknown force or God’s grace had brought her, of all people, to this place, but she knew she was meant to be here and to fight.

  She meant to win.

  A Roman guard advanced on Fiona, his shorter sword drawn. She held her ground, waiting for him to make the first move. The girls were a silent mass behind her, their eyes wide in terror.

  The vampire held his sword like a baseball bat, ready to swing if she threw one past home plate. She grinned. He didn’t have a clue how to handle the weapon. It was meant for stabbing, not swinging. Fiona stepped forward and spun to gather speed and momentum. Using both hands, she swung the longer, heavier sword. Both the guard’s arm holding the sword and his head were lopped off in one smooth motion.

  Thank God the sword was razor sharp. The man disappeared in a puff. The metal sword fell.

  Shit, that’s freaky. Fiona made a promise to God that she’d go to church, any church, if she could just get them all out of there alive.

  An older vampire grabbed one of the younger naked men by the arm, put a sword in his hand, and pushed him toward her.

  She focused on the next man, telling herself these were not real people. Killing them didn’t count.

  “Come to mama,” she muttered. Two down, six more to go.

  He was smarter than the first but still untrained. The swords must have been for show, not used as actual weapons. He moved toward her, his sword at waist height and to the side. Another mistake. She feinted left. He moved his arm out to block her blade. Twisting at the last minute, she swung from the other direction at his unprotected side.

  The blade struck him in the chest. Fiona felt it sink in past real bone and tissue. Before she could shudder, he was gone. Another mound of dust. It almost wasn’t fair.

  Fiona began edging her way to the stairs. The girls, like some mutant spider with three heads, six arms, and six legs, scurried behind her.

  “Vlad! Romero! Ivan! Get that bitch!” The older vamp, who Fiona figured for their leader, waved his hand at them, directing the action.

  The remaining vampires pulled their swords and advanced. Between Fiona and the exit was a wall of cold steel and, aw shit, sharp teeth. Their long canines kept their mouths from closing. Their eyes were cold, but she could see the hunger in them. These toga guys held their swords as if they knew what they were doing.

  Okay, so it’s a fair fight now. She let go of the sword with one hand and held out the other, motioning for them to come at her with a wiggle of her fingers.

  “Bring it on, you bastards.”

  She swung the sword using her wrists in a lazy circle, like a batter taking a practice swing before the pitch.

  — • —

  The black velvet curtain closed behind Nicodemus. He stood in the wide hallway where fifteen minutes before, he’d entered the chamber of the Council of Twelve to receive his latest assignment.

  As always, the same old man, dressed in a plain black suit, waited in the hall. In the palm of his translucent-skinned hand sat a sleek, green lizard about nine inches long, its tail wrapped around the old man’s thin wrist.

  “Thanks for watching Cho. He gets into trouble if I leave him alone.” Nicodemus held out his hand, palm up. The sleek lizard jumped across, skittered up his arm to ride on his shoulder, and curled its tail around his neck.

  The color of Cho’s skin turned in a rapid gradation from dull green to matte black to match Nicodemus’ clothing.

  Cho spoke to Nicodemus,
the only human who could hear him. “It’s because I get so damned bored with no one to talk to.”

  “You have the attention span of a gnat,” Nicodemus answered with his thoughts.

  “Now, you’re making me hungry, Nic. It’s my high intellect; I crave stimulation.”

  “The only thing you crave is food, Cho. We have some work to do tonight.”

  “I knew it! The Council of Twelve wouldn’t drag you here unless they needed your skills. Same as last time?”

  “Yeah, find the virgins. Kill the vampires. Rescue the virgins.” Nic sighed. Same old thing.

  “Yeesh, virgins! All those young girls passing out, weeping uncontrollably. We get to kill, right?”

  A quick flick of Cho’s tail signaled his excitement.

  “Sure, and if we’re lucky, we’ll be outnumbered.”

  Nic stepped out into the night, hit the remote, unlocked his black Jag, and slid into the driver’s seat. Turning the key, he gunned the motor and drove down the alley to the street, where he stopped and slipped the gear into neutral.

  “Where to?”

  “Not sure yet. They gave me an orb again. Why can’t they just tell me where the fuck the vampires are?”

  “Adds to the mystique, Nic.”

  “Fuck mystique. I hate these things.”

  He pulled a small, blue orb from his pocket, and as he stared, it glowed brighter. Images formed in his mind.

  Darkness. The moon was hidden by a cloud. As the cloud moved, rows of tombstones and large crypts emerged. Another cloud slipped across the moon, and it was dark again.

  Nic dropped the orb on the passenger seat next to his sword and rubbed his eyes to force away the headache the orbs always gave him.

  “Why is it vampires always use cemeteries?” Nic asked Cho aloud. “Is it their lack of imagination?”

  “Maybe it’s because they’re close to home. Everyone knows commuting sucks. Get it? Vampires? Suck?”

  “I get it, Cho.” Nic rolled his eyes. Of all the talking enchanted lizards in the world, why did he get stuck with the one with the bad jokes?