A Vampire To Watch Over Me [Vampire Coven Book II]
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Authors: C.L. Scholey
Table of Contents
VAMPIRE COVEN BOOK 2: A VAMPIRE TO WATCH OVER ME
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUTTITLENew World Book 2: ArmorArmor
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VAMPIRE COVEN
BOOK 2:
A VAMPIRE TO WATCH OVER ME
by
C.L. Scholey
TORRID BOOKS
www.torridbooks.com
Published by
TORRID BOOKS
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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
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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.
