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

into the distance. Adele tensed and Greyfriar quickly kneaded her aching muscles with his long fingers. She eased back against him almost against her will.
    Greyfriar’s voice was a bit louder. “My father said she was attracted to charismatic and tenacious warriors.”
    “Like himself.”
    “He was that without doubt.”
    Adele sank into the radiating relief of his touch. “What would your father think of me?”
    “Well, if I brought you home, family meals might be a bit awkward, but I think he would admire you as a queen and a woman. Despite your inconvenient humanity.” Greyfriar was silent a moment, looking into Adele’s eyes. “I can say for certain that if you were a vampire, he would welcome you into the family with great enthusiasm.”
    “And then we could be king and queen of Britain.” With those murmured words, Adele drifted into sleep once more, too tired to keep her eyes open.
    “Yes. I suppose we could,” Greyfriar replied
    However, the respite could only last for the hours that she was asleep. The aftermath of the battle for Grenoble was as horrible as anything she had seen among the vampires. In the next few days, as she lay on her own bed in the secluded room, she heard the constant cries of pain and loss for hours. Whenever Greyfriar was at her side, wrapping her in his embrace, she tried to block out the horror. But soon she realized she couldn’t, or more importantly, shouldn’t. The thought of all the men who sacrificed everything convinced her that she needed to see them, talk to them, and thank them.
    Eventually, Adele recovered enough of her strength to visit the makeshift medical ward housed in a long stone building where the battalion medical officer and his aide worked day after day to keep the wounded alive. The toll had been heavy, almost a third of the division dead or wounded, but the operation had succeeded. According to scouts and supply ships moving in from the coast, the entire valley was free of vampires.
    The nervous and exhausted doctor met Adele and Greyfriar at the front door of the surgery. Captain Shirazi and the Harmattan took position outside, and after much to-do, the doctor escorted the couple to the first ward. Greyfriar held the door open for Adele as she entered, enduring a scowl from an orderly standing there to do the same. Taking a deep breath to steel herself against what she might see, she strode forward with Greyfriar behind her.
    Thirty cots lined each side of the long room. Adele walked up boldly to the first wounded man, a youngster of about twenty. Then she remembered she was the same age; she felt years beyond it. No doubt so did he. With a brave smile, she greeted him. His forearm was wrapped in clean, white linen, and a bandage on his right cheek had slipped a little, revealing a deep gash, crudely stitched.
    “Hello,” Adele said.
    “Your Majesty?” The boy’s face flushed pink and he struggled to sit up, his eyes flicking to the famed Greyfriar and then back to his empress.
    “Be still,” she urged him. “What’s your name?”
    “Massud. Private Massud, ma’am.”
    “Well, Private Massud, I’ve come to thank you for your service to the Empire.”
    “Thank you, ma’am.”
    “Are you in much pain?”
    “I’m feeling fine, ma’am.”
    “You were with the Thirty-sixth Fighting Lancers.”
    The young man nodded and then quickly realized his lapse in manners. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
    “You fought well, I’m told.”
    “Thank you, ma’am. We all did. What’s left of us.”
    Adele paused. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
    “No, Your Majesty.”
    “Perhaps a note to your family?”
    He nodded, and Adele took out pen and paper from her coat pocket. “What would you like to tell them?”
    “That I’m alive. No, that I’m well. Wouldn’t want my mother to worry.”
    “Of course. And their address?” When he gave it, Adele took the note and put it in her pocket. “I will make sure this gets to her so she doesn’t