Free Kingmakers, The (Vampire Empire Book 3) by Susan Griffith Clay Griffith Page B

lines.
    Gareth resisted glancing toward her and instead marched forward, trusting that she was near him. Adele admired his willpower. She wasn’t sure she would be so resolute were their positions reversed.
    The rolling waters of the Isère appeared before them, and though Gareth could have easily lifted off and floated to the other bank, he took a longer route to a footbridge. Adele had to come off the line slightly so they could cross the gurgling river. She redoubled her concentration to maintain her cover. She felt the connection strengthen again as they approached the medieval church of St. Laurent, made of typical whitish stone and red tiles. The old structure lay in less disarray than the rest of the city. Adele’s route lay through the courtyard of the church and then up a steep mountain path to the Bastille, which loomed dark and misty in the drifting snow. The great walled fort on the mountain had been built over a rift, due to humanity’s latent attachment to the Earth’s power. It was also the home of clan leader’s court.
    Gareth hissed a warning and Adele started as shadows passed over the frosty stones at her feet. She glanced up and saw ten or more vampires circling overhead like a murder of crows. They had peeled off a larger group heading toward the battle when they had noticed Gareth, a stranger in a city under siege.
    Adele took one more step near the church grounds, and the power beneath it swelled within her. It pushed at her barriers hungrily, and it took all her willpower to hold it in check.
    “I need a moment,” she whispered urgently, her voice rough with effort.
    Gareth stepped closer and then away again as he could feel the discomfort of her presence. “What’s wrong?”
    “Too much. It’s overwhelming. I can barely hold it in.”
    “You must!”
    Gareth looked up at the vampires descending toward them, and Adele immediately knew what he was contemplating.
    “No! You can’t win against all of them. I can hold this. I just need time.”
    Gareth tensed and then stepped away from Adele, veering from the church. The vampires landed, encircling him. All of them wore the festooned wardrobe of soldiers, a mix of different styles and periods, but all military in design. Their very physique was different from the three at the gate. All muscle and attitude. They challenged Gareth in their native dialect. It always sounded so guttural and harsh to Adele’s ears.
    Gareth responded to their call in French. “I am Prince Gareth of Scotland, son of Dmitri of Britain, and I’ve come to see King Vittorio before this city falls to the humans clawing at your doors.”
    Gareth could play the haughty prince nearly as well as his brother, but with far less embellishment. The gathered vampires stared past Gareth’s long form and Adele tensed, wondering if they could see her. Then they stated the obvious, as if it were a joke. “You are alone.”
    “I do not bring my packs unless I know you are worthy of aid. But they are close enough if I choose to save Grenoble. However, if you are not interested in my offer, I can leave and lend my assistance to your neighbors.”
    The vampires hissed their displeasure at being slighted, or compared to their neighbors, the bumpkins of St. Etienne and the pretenders of Lyon.
    When one leaned to confer with another, Gareth quickly stepped menacingly to them, straightening his tall frame and stiffening with anger. It was better not to give them opportunity to ponder why he was alone and unescorted. “Soon your city will be flattened and your herds will be seized or scattered. You make the decision for your king, here and now.” Gareth struck the flat of his hand against the vampire’s shoulder. He waited another few heartbeats and then turned on his heel. “Very well. Send my regards to former King Vittorio.”
    Two vampires grabbed his arms to prevent his leaving.
    “How dare you touch me!” He yanked away his arm, drawing blood as it tore from their clawed