Cedric the Demonic Knight (The Cedric Series Book 1)

Chapter Two: Cedric's Story, the 11th Century...

"You're old! I can never tell under all that fur until I start fighting, but you are already a tired old man!" Cedric jumped back, making room between them. He was allowing the old demon a moment to catch his breath as he glared back at him, growling. "You've eluded me for a few nights. I suppose even a veteran falls victim to the hunger at a full moon."

"Yes, even an old salt has no willpower against the ways of demon blood." His ears pricked forward and a toothy grin spread across his canine face. "How does one fight a cry of bloodlust with the mixed blood of many demons?"

"Unlike you, I do not feed on pawns such as humans. My lust requires stronger bloods that hold power within and it only yearns for quality, not limitless quantity. Gluttony is a sin, you know?" Placing his sword in its scabbard, Cedric straightened into a more relaxed pose. "I do not care for half-bloods very often. On the other hand, the older the half blood, the better the meal he is. You should be a decent snack for me within castle walls."

"Speak for yourself; you're my meal!" Racing towards him, the pounding of the werewolf's weight reverberated through the cobblestones at Cedric's feet. "You should have never sheathed your sword, pest!"

"Fool!" Cedric's voice boomed, a yelping sound escaping the great wolf; crackling bones filled the air.

Cedric had brought the large beast's attack to an abrupt halt. The beast's arm was broken and he could feel a sharp pain stabbing into his neck. He had fallen for Cedric's ploy. The sword had merely been a distraction, which had allowed the demon at his neck to toy with his food. Wincing as Cedric's fangs dug deeper into him, each suckle pulled his soul further from him. A deep sigh escaped the massive chest. The last of his life drained away into the darkness of death. Finally, his soul would be at rest after living beyond his means. Perhaps falling prey to the demonic knight had been a blessing in disguise...

Cedric released his hold from the now cold heap of fur, spitting blood across the ground as he looked at the corpse with disdain. "What a waste of my time; he was near death and had very little life force to offer me..."

"Pl-please mister, I... let me live, my Lord. I will tell no one!" The villager, still bleeding, had crawled to Cedric's boots.

Smooth as silk, Cedric pulled his sword and severed the man's head. A pot crashed down from a nearby balcony. He had come through that way, but had seen no sign of anyone. Surprised, he stared wide-eyed at the young girl frozen in fear against her balcony door. He realized that he'd neither heard nor smelled her approach as he kept his intense eye contact with her. That was the first time he laid eyes on Angeline. Her big brown eyes wide, she could not break from his gaze.

Cedric scoffed, annoyed he would have to use the other abilities of his blood right, but he had no choice in the matter. Leaping up to the balcony, a feat no mere mortal could have accomplished, he stood towering over her, their eyes locked into an endless bond.

"Be still my pet," his whisper was tender as if spoken from a lover.

He used what the myths called the incubine stare. The unbreakable stare allowed incubus to ensnare their victims, tricking them into "falling in love" or even lulling them to sleep. It was usually not a dependable ability with full-blooded demons, since their powers that created an intoxicating level of sexual arousal would take hold by this point. In his case, it never failed him due to the vampiric mix in his blood. His voice came as a low, tender rumble for a whisper as he spoke to her in a songlike tone. Her fear fell away as he opened the door behind her. As he sung she followed without hesitation:

"Don't fret my Dear,

Come to me, close here.

Go back to sleep, now love,

I am now here, my dove.

Pay no mind to the demons below,

My eyes and heart you now follow.

Come, my pet, lay your head down,

And in dreams you now drown."

With the last note, he managed to lay her in bed. Her room was large and expensively furnished. A banked fire holding a low flame kept the room warm. A log fell apart into coals, popping and crackling. Curious, he sat in the embroidered chair placed in a dark corner of her chamber. Looking her over a moment, he took in her cotton gown, thin and translucent with elegant lace flowers along its hem. She was clearly a daughter of a nobleman, a Lady of the Court. Unlike the stable trash painting the cobblestones crimson, her death would cause alarm. Still, he could use this to his advantage. King Frederick insisted if he, Lord Cedric, won the tournament tomorrow that he could have his pick of the Ladies. In this case, he knew who he would choose to marry: this girl he had caught in his stare. It was exhausting playing the games of the Lady and Knight, and he was glad to be putting an end to it at last.

She was fairly plain, and he could detect a hint of the farms in her scent. He assumed she was here to make her richer cousin stand out further. Despite what the world thought, he found himself staring deeply at her. She was far more beautiful than the background purpose given to her by the nobles. Her hair was long and thick, chestnut in color, while her skin was peachy and sun-kissed. The lips on her sleeping face folded out like the wide petals of a rose. She was lucky that she had gotten to her age untouched. With her voluptuous hips and the muscling in her arms and legs, she was a pleasant sight. She would have made for a good fight to any that may have tried to force themselves on her. A scowl came across his face. He cursed his incubine blood and the uncanny awareness it gave him of both age and sexual status.

A malicious grin crawled across his lips. Indeed, she would be a fitting mate for a short time and a better lure for bigger prey on his journeys. Yes, he would use this girl to attract his prey.

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