The Dark Gifts Birthright

The Dark Gifts

Birthright

By

Willow Cross

Copyright 2011 Willow Cross

Smashwords Edition

~~**~~

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of this author.

Dedication

For Phyllis. Thank you for telling me I
should.

For Rebecca, Angela, and Pamela. For telling
me I could.

For Ken, Chris, and Judy…where would I be
without your support?

I love you all!

Other books by Willow Cross

The Dark Gifts: Birthright (First in the series)

The Dark Gifts: Inheritance (Second in the
series)

Oceans of Red volume one

Oceans of Red volume two

Haunted, 100% Totally True Ghost Stories

Coming Soon:

Oceans of Red volume three

The Dark Gifts: Legacy

Chapter One

Inquisition

This was crazy. Just forty-eight hours ago
the man whose hand she held with an iron grip, whose comfort she
sought in this unimaginable whirlwind of chaos, and was willing to
sacrifice herself for if need arose--had killed her. She glanced
around the hall hoping to find a friendly face...anything that
might calm her wrangled nerves.

The spacious room coupled with a high-arched
ceiling could have doubled as an auditorium. Three rows of tiered
benches surrounded the grayed wood floor, adding to the effect.
Dotted throughout the crowd were beings of extraordinary beauty.
But there were others there. The kind pictured in horror stories.
Sallow skinned, tangled hair, with monstrous features and fangs,
they grinned and jostled each other in anticipation of what was
about to happen. If the vampires gathered had been using their
voices instead of their minds to speak, the noise would have
reverberated with the intensity of a rock concert.

“
Look at him. Even now, so proud and full
of himself. I wonder if he's ever considered being under the hand
of his brand of justice?”

“
Oh, she's beautiful. The pain of this
loss will be great for him,”
another voice snickered.

“
Two hundred years I have waited for this
moment. Tell me, Michael, how does it feel? Was it all worth it
now?”

Nothing she could make out sounded like a
help to their cause. The vampires wanted retribution. Without
thinking, she edged closer to Michael. In the presence of all this
hostility, his nearness felt like a safe haven.

A shiver of dread moved through her as he led
her to the dais at the far end of the room. Six black cloaked
figures sat on large carved wooden thrones. Even without knowing
who they were, their appearance alone would have instilled fear.
The hooded cloaks covered every physical detail. No face, hand, or
bit of skin revealed whether the figure beneath was human or
other.

Fear bloomed in her eyes as she looked at
Michael. Her lower lip trembled.

His chiseled features exuded a calmness she
couldn’t quite manage. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He
had nothing else to offer. Turning to face the Council, he pulled
her behind him.

Still as statues, the Council did not seem to
even be breathing. Horror enveloped her. Each step they took toward
the dais seemed to echo doom and destruction.

“
Dead girl walking,”
she thought as
they finally stopped in front of the elders. Her head bumped
against his shoulder. The Liz she used to be would have stepped
back, but this new Liz remained close. She felt the muscles in his
arm tighten, as once again, he applied comforting pressure to her
hand.

She winced as a new voice blared above the
others filtering through her mind.
“Your thoughts are
appropriate, girl.”

Liz couldn’t make out who was actually
speaking. All six of the elders remained unmoving. It took a moment
to realize the voice was not audible but in her head.

“Death is the order of the evening. We are
here to bring justice. The law has been broken. Who will defend the
accused?”

Michael stepped forward. “I will defend
myself. I need no other to protect me.” His voice was strong and
certain. He seemed to have no fear at all. A murmur ran through the
crowd of angry vampires.

“Silence. The telepathic barrier has been
raised. Any who attempt to break through will be punished. So be it
then, Michael, you have chosen to stand alone in this. And so it
should be, as in solitude you have handled the tasks the weak among
us could not bear.” A nod from the cloaked statue to the far right
finally gave clue to the speaker.

“Pray tell us the circumstances which brought
us here this evening, Michael. We elders are bewildered with why
our own hand of justice would perform this treacherous deed.” This
voice was different than the last. Definitely feminine and with a
softer tone, she sounded like a mother pleading with her child to
answer for bad behavior. Examining the dais, although no one had
moved, Liz noticed one figure smaller than the others. This must be
the woman that spoke now.

Michael stepped forward and said, “I will
show you how it happened. The memory is the only evidence I can
provide. Just the facts the way they occurred. You know me and my
perseverance in upholding our laws.”

As one, the Council stood. “Come.”

Michael proceeded up the stairs until he
stood directly in front of them. Immediately, they surrounded him
without saying a word. Complete silence permeated the room as if
every being in attendance held their breath.

Liz wanted to turn and run as fast as she
could and get away from this awful place. Her legs seemed to be
mired in quick sand. Terror consumed her. If not for the invisible
quick sand, her body would have fled of its own volition. It seemed
like she stood there for hours, holding her breath, and waiting.
Then it was over.

All six of the elders were once again seated
on their thrones and Michael stood beside her. A different voice
spoke this time; it was cold, mean, and full of hate. “And now the
girl.”

She raised her gaze to search his bright
green eyes. “Michael?”

“It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt if you allow
it.” The slight smile playing at the corner of his full lips
assured her in a way his words couldn’t. She took a deep breath,
squared her shoulders, and moved up the few stairs to stand in the
spot he’d so recently vacated. She never saw them coming. One
minute they were seated and the next she was surrounded. Their
hands lay lightly on her shoulders, arms and back. Her vision went
dark and then miraculously, she had returned to the carnival two
evenings earlier.

Assailed by the smell of cotton candy and
corn dogs, her focus remained on the raven-haired man leaning
against the duck shoot booth. Exceptionally tall, with hair much
longer than she generally preferred on men, his bright green eyes
held her attention. Feeling a flush creep over her cheeks, she
barely noticed Marsha’s persistent elbowing. “Hello? Earth to
Liz?”

Breaking his gaze, she faced her friend.
“Sorry. You were saying?”

Marsha looked across the short distance
retracing Liz’s line of sight. “What are you staring at?” Upon
seeing the man, she laughed. “Holy crap. He is perfectly edible.
And I think he’s way interested. He’s still staring at you and he
knows I’m watching!”

Liz’s vision grew dark again and as if fast
forwarding through a movie, scenes flashed until they were alone on
the beach. His chilled hand brushed against her cheek pushing a
hair behind her ear. His voice wrapped around her in tantalizing
waves. “Just one little kiss.”

“Michael, I just met you. I like you and
everything, but I’m really not that kind of person.”

“Shhh,” he said running a cool finger along
her bottom lip.

A shiver ran down her back and her knees
almost gave out. Off balance, she stumbled. His strong hands shot
out with lightening speed to catch her. “Just one, and then we’ll
go back to your friends.”

There was something in his voice. She could
not refuse him. He moved in slowly. Even after declining numerous
times, she could hardly wait to feel his lips against hers. Her
midsection burned with desire. Then at long last, his lips met
hers. As if they had a will of their own, her arms wrapped around
his neck. His large hands moved from her face to entangle in her
long auburn waves. One after another his kisses held her breath
hostage. Leaving a gentle trail from her lips to her ear, he moved
down toward her neck. She gasped. Ecstasy. Primal, sensual hunger
pressed in. Then--searing, white-hot pain.

Terror consumed her. She shoved at his
shoulders, pushing with every ounce of her strength. Hot fluid ran
down her chest. The sound of his slurping and sucking resonated in
her ears. She screamed, and with one last horror-filled shove, he
nearly flew away from her. Power coursed through her veins.

The memory receded as the dim lights of the
so-called auditorium came into view. Reliving the nightmare was
almost worse than living it. Breathing heavy and still somewhat
disoriented, Liz stepped back into a hard body. She spun. “It’s
over,” Michael whispered. Taking her hand, he led her down the
stairs.

“It is done.” The hateful voice pronounced.
“No law has been broken. Michael acted in accordance with the
law.”

“He did not receive permission for the
turning!” A voice yelled from the crowd.

“How did she change if she was only bitten
once?” Another called out.

“This is the utmost hypocrisy!”

The smaller figure stood and raised her hand.
Immediately, the group of angry vampires quieted. “He is free to
go. No justice is needed. However, the girl will remain in the
fortress.”

The vampires broke loose with murmured
approval of the elders’ edict. They were all relieved to see that
Michael would suffer some form of punishment.

“No!” Michael bellowed, “There’s no reason
for you to keep the girl. She is mine now. She will stay with me,
and I will teach her our ways.”

Emotion washed over her as she realized she
was going to die, to really die, this time.

Michael reached out without looking at her
and clasped her hand in his iron grip. The tension in his muscled
body was enough indication he was ready to bolt. Any moment, they
would fly out the door and away from this madness. Even though
she’d just met him, Liz knew he would never leave her. In that
instant, she understood with clarity what his direct disobedience
would mean. If he did not follow the ruling of the Council, Michael
would die too.

Liz wrenched her hand from his grasp, and
this time,
she
stepped boldly forward. “I will stay and
Michael can go.” Her voice did not waiver as she pronounced her own
death sentence. No matter what happened to her, she knew she
couldn’t let him die.

“No! I won’t allow it!”

Liz turned and gently placed her hand against
his cheek. “Yes,” she said softly. “It has to be this way, I'll
follow the ruling of the Council and so will you.”

Chapter Two

The First Lesson

Except for the sound of water dripping from
some unknown pipe or crack in a wall, it was quiet. They had taken
her swiftly. Her last glimpse of Michael showed him in the clutches
of two vampires, so big that the shorter of the two still stood
nearly a head taller than him. It was he who pressed a blade
against her guardian’s neck. Michael shouted his rage at the
Council and shouted an oath to her. “I’ll find you. Just do what
they say. I’ll find you!”

Cloaked figures surrounded her. Prodding her
out through a door and down through tunnels so fast that she had no
idea where she was. The elders had not spoken one word to her as
they transferred her from the tunnels to a cell.

She was alone now, in the dark enclosed room.
A dungeon of some sort, she was certain. The cell walls were cold,
hard clay. A musty, stale smell pervaded the air. Terror gave way
to worry as the silence engulfed her.

Everything and everyone left behind raced
through her mind. Visions of her nieces and nephews, what had been
and what she would never see, toyed with her. Lindy learning to
ride a bike. Little Casey covered in chocolate ice cream. Young
Sarah Masada, the foster child she’d mentored from the Boys and
Girls Club. Poor Sarah had no parents; Liz was the only female
influence in her life now that her older brother was raising her.
They'll think I'm dead, or worse, that I just ran off and left
them. It's too late now to let any of them know how much I love
them
. Most of all, she worried about Michael.