The Brethren Of Tavish [Vampire Coven Book 1] by C.L. Scholey Read Free Book Online

hear your heart hammering like a drum,”
Tavish said. He lifted his hand and stroked her arm. She was soon covered in
goose bumps. “Men and women were made to join.”
    Join?
    Was he a man? He was a vampire. He looked like
a man. He sounded like a man. His hands were gentle. Mercy liked the way his
skin felt on hers as he trailed his fingers across her collarbone. There were
times she ached to be touched. She had been told she was loved, but she had
wanted to be shown. Mercy had watched with intrigue when couples kissed, it was
done quickly, a fast peck. At one time, she had pressed her lips to the back of
her hand. It felt better when the warmth of her mouth had lingered. She knew
she shouldn’t have. But she couldn’t help but feel humans needed action to
emotion. In an odd way, her father had shown her that, when he had struck her
in anger. And then again when he had hugged her in
forgiveness.
    Tavish was giving her a rare glimpse into what
humans could experience. Perhaps men and women were made to join, somehow.
Perhaps that was why her father’s rules were so strict. Her father would be
furious with her.
    Traitor.
    Mercy recoiled as the word slammed into her
mind. She jerked her hand from his. She yanked the covers back up to hide her
nudity from him. Her breath came out in heaving pants. She placed an open palm
against her wildly beating heart. She expected him to be angry but he was still
smiling at her.
    “I have all the time in the world, little cub.”
    She supposed he did. “Where am I? The air is
warm. This isn’t an ice dwelling.”
    “My coven is a far cry from the ice and snow
you’re used to.”
    A knock sounded and Tavish rose. Mercy watched
intrigued as a flat, wooden, box-like structure attached to the wall opened. Behind it stood a woman. She was older, perhaps Mercy’s
mother’s age. She was tall, beautiful. Her dark hair hung well past her
shoulders. She held a tray and handed it to Tavish. Tavish kissed her forehead.
The woman peeked around Tavish and smiled at her. The woman hadn’t looked at
her with disgust or fury. Mercy couldn’t help but smile back.
    Behind the woman was a long corridor, also
devoid of ice. The walls were a light green. They were perfectly flat like the
walls in the room. The ceiling was high but not near as high as her ice
dwelling. They were also perfectly formed. What
strange walls . There were windows along the corridor where light blazed. No
wonder they didn’t need wicks or oil or fire. When the odd rectangular box
closed they were alone again. Tavish approached holding the tray.
    “What is that?” Mercy asked, looking past his
shoulder.
    “What?”
    “That wooden box the woman appeared behind.”
    “It’s called a door.”
    “What’s it for?”
    “Privacy.”
    “Privacy between a man and woman is…”
    “I know, it’s
considered treason.” Tavish rolled his eyes. “You sound like a brainwashed
parrot.”
    Mercy couldn’t help but feel he was making fun
of her. It was hard to tell, she had no idea what a parrot was. And how would
you wash your brain? Jarrod had teased her once when they were younger that her
brain would slide from her ears if she lay on her side. But her father had told
her it was nonsense and Jarrod was just being silly. Still, for the longest
time, she had slept on her back until she grew older.
    Tavish lifted the rounded dome-like lid on the
dish before her and placed it to the side. Mercy reached out to touch it. The
color was like nothing she had seen before. It was more beautiful and shiny,
almost a high-polished gray color, but it wasn’t gray. She could see her
distorted reflection in it, making her face look odd. The lid was hot and steam
rolled from the food to cover the dish in a fine layer of film like warm
breath. The smells were enticing. Her belly rumbled. Mercy had never been
hungry a day in her life.
    Tavish lifted a piece of meat and held it to
her lips. Mercy hesitated. She should refuse. She should starve