Wickedly They Dance: After Darkness Falls Book Three

by Sage, May

  “Mh. An undead. You were resourceful enough, I suppose.” He said so reluctantly, like he might have been pleased if she’d messed up. Turning back to his descendant, he said, “I knew only a few capable of such magic, and all have returned to ashes.”

  “That’s just the thing, though. Being dead doesn’t mean staying dead, not in this world,” Greer said. “For years, I’ve had visions in my mind, from another world, another time, and I have voices from my ancestors telling me what I can and cannot do, shaping my life. If we had an idea of who might be capable of all the queen has accomplished, it might help narrow down our very empty list of suspects.”

  The vampire took a moment to consider her words. “A necromancer, then.”

  Greer nodded. “And someone who can command demons, plus mess with our wards. Someone who’d want Chloe dead. Maybe someone in possession of something werewolves might want.” She winced, clearly believing that he’d come up empty.

  It was one hell of a list, after all.

  “Well, for one, there was your matriarch. She’s very dead, and her remains have been scattered in the sea, however.”

  Greer frowned. “If the remains haven’t been consecrated by a witch of her coven, then there is no hope of a post-mortem presence. Are you sure?”

  Eirikr smirked. “Why, yes. I killed her myself.”

  Greer’s eyes widened. “Wait, weren’t you guys, like…together?” She grimaced as she said it.

  Eirikr sighed. “It is a very long tale that I do not care to share with strangers.”

  “I’ll ask you tomorrow, and then, if it’s relevant, I’ll share with the class anyway,” Chloe told him.

  She’d found a bottle of wine somewhere—at least, mostly wine. Avani wouldn’t have been surprised if there was some blood in it too—and she was pouring some in six glasses.

  Eirikr laughed. He extended his hand. Chloe was at his side in a blink, handing him a glass before serving the rest of the guests.

  Greer looked at the glass like it might bite. “There’s no blood,” Chloe promised. “Eirikr isn’t into mixing it.”

  Thus reassured, Avani sipped her glass. “So, what’s with the matriarch, then?”

  “Tatiana, like her namesake, the queen of fae, was beautiful, cunning, and manipulative. As a youth, I could never have seen it. In time, I did. She used me for my strength when we were human. She used me to warm her bed, as even then, my form was considered quite pleasing.”

  Avani didn’t doubt it.

  “And above all, she used me because of my father’s position. He was, at one time, thought to become emperor. If that had occurred, she would have been in the perfect position to take her place beside me and share our fortune. But she had other lovers. A mortal couldn’t tell. As a vampire, capable of seeing all her expressions and smelling her skin, it was a different scenario. When I went to her after being turned, she was sharing the bed of a man twice her age. She rejected me, casting me out. Not before I smelled him on her skin.”

  He paused, somewhat hesitant now. “I smelled something else. Something that deep down, I recognized, despite having never sensed it before. She was pregnant. I knew it, just as I knew that that child of hers was mine—born of my human self.

  “I wanted the child like I wanted my next breath. The remnants of my humanity. A reminder that I’d been something else, something worthy, once. But she chose to marry that old fool and call my child his.

  “So I remained in the shadows for a time, when I wasn’t hunting Ariadne to seek my revenge, getting to know my little girl. A sweet thing, at first. Between her father’s beatings and her mother’s berating, she soon changed. I whispered to her in secret, begging her to let me bring her to a safer place, somewhere she’d be loved. I’d build an entire world for her if I had to. Always, she was a dutiful child, and chose to remain. When she was sixteen, I was told she died by those I tasked to safeguard her during my travels. I asked how. And still, to this day, I wish I couldn’t believe the answer.”

  No one dared ask. No one dared say a word.

  At long last, Eirikr continued, “She was drained. A darker witch power used only by the vilest sort. Her youth and beauty were absorbed. By her mother.”

  Jesus.

  “What…what—” Avani didn’t manage another word.

  “I hunted her for a time, though the process considerably increased Tatiana’s power. Again and again, she bore daughters that she’d drain so she could live forever. It was long before I found her. I killed her, at last. And when her last daughter heard a twisted version of it, she was manipulated into sealing me to this prison.”

  “What about the sons?” Alexius asked, with some acuity.

  “We only give birth to daughters.” Greer’s words were barely a whisper. “I thought it was a freaky thing of nature. Now? She probably set it up that way, so she could have an endless supply of Vespian blood to kill.” Her eyes flashed. “I’m glad she’s dead. She deserved it.”

  “Damn straight,” Avani agreed.

  “That doesn’t help our case,” Levi stated.

  They finished their wine and visited with the ancient vampire for a while, making conversation and pretending it was normal.

  It wasn’t. But still, Avani was surprised to find that she fit into this world far more than she’d fit in the pack.

  This was where she was meant to be.

  Miscommunication

  Alexius had to use every bit of self-restraint he possessed to remain calm, pleasant, and avoid turning into a caveman. Throwing Avani over his shoulder and dragging her, kicking and screaming, to his lair, sounded like a marvelous idea right about now.

  The werewolves of Oldcrest had set a trap Avani fully intended to walk right into in four weeks. And he couldn’t tell her not to because, well, he had no right to do so. The one thing that allowed him to maintain a semblance of sanity was that he’d be there right next to her in case things went awry.

  Last time, he’d let her attacker live. He wasn’t one to kill if he could help it—not anymore. Now, if anyone tried to hurt her, he’d tear them apart bit by bit, and he wouldn’t even lose a minute of sleep over it. If they so much as touched her, they were dead—the end. He knew her now. He cared about her a great deal. In an amount of time so short it was ludicrous, she’d become one of the names he wouldn’t forget, one of the people who mattered to him. Through his long life, there had been a dozen at most.

  The last time he’d opened up to a woman he desired, it had been Viola Wild, an Eirikrson slayer. While she left on missions regularly, she’d been based in Oldcrest, returning here every other week. Then, after the Eirikrson massacre, she’d wanted nothing to do with him, assuming he’d been one of those who’d killed her sires. It had hurt at first; of course it had. Spending a hundred years with someone, only to realize that she thought so little of him? It had been a blow. For a time, he’d wanted her back, simply because connections were hard, and he had one with her. She came back here every year to visit Skyhall up the hill; he would have liked to resume their shallow, easy relationship when she visited.

  Then Avani had turned up. The way he wanted her was primal, all-consuming, so very different from anything he knew. Women were a distraction to him, nothing more. While he’d liked Viola enough to desire regular intercourse from her, he didn’t know much about her, inside; her aspirations, her dreams, her nightmares. And what was worse, he didn’t actually care much.

  Avani? He wanted to know every single thing about her. He wanted to be there when she was in danger, when she smiled, when she cried. He wanted to hold her in his arms just because. And none of those things were a means to distract himself from his monotony. With her, he wanted to pause, smell the roses. Live.

  It was still dangerous, and ultimately terrible for him, as she’d die sooner or later. But damn if he couldn’t help himself.

  The threat of the challenge hanging over her might end up driving him insane before the next full moon.

  They walke
d back to Night Hill slowly, to accommodate Greer and Blair’s human speed. Alexius hadn’t let go of Avani since the cave; his arm was now around her shoulder. It felt so very natural to be touching her, and Avani didn’t seem to mind. A wolf might not even question it.

  “Should we have dinner at my place?” Chloe offered cheerfully as they reached the Helsing manor.

  Avani and Alexius exchanged a glance.

  “As you wish,” he told her.

  “I’m pretty tired, actually.” She turned back to Chloe. “Next time?”

  Eirikrson agreed. “Tomorrow night. We can talk strategy for your challenge. I’ll recall Sylvan from his assignment.”

  Alexius bobbed his head, and they waved to everyone before finally heading inside.

  “Sylvan?” Avani asked, trotting to the kitchen. She’d finally detached herself from his arm.

  Alexius didn’t like it. “He’s one of Levi’s oldest slayers—the knights in shining armor, in the service of their king. I suppose, if you compare his position to that of wolves in a pack, he’d be an enforcer.”

  “Like Mikar?” Avani guessed.

  Observant as usual. “And Ruby,” he added. “Most ancient vampires have some.”

  “You don’t, do you?”

  He chuckled. “Not my style. Slayers are useful to those who make enemies for themselves—or those who spend their time gallivanting around the world on some sort of quest, I suppose.”

  Being stuck here, he’d never needed any.

  “Fair enough. All right, I'll make dinner—and hot chocolate," she announced. "Any preference?"

  Reaching the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe and smiled, watching her open cupboards and pull out ingredients with familiarity. She truly was at home here now.

  "Lex?"

  Alexius didn’t think she’d said his name before. He certainly hadn’t expected her to shorten it. But he liked it.

  A lot.

  He tilted his head. "Hm?"

  "Any preference for dinner?"

  He laughed. "Quite the perfect housewife. There's an apron in the cupboard if you'd like to wear one."

  She rolled her eyes. "In your dreams."

  "Undoubtedly. And anything will do. Put me to work, if you'd like. I can chop onions and peel potatoes. Whatever you desire."

  Avani laughed. "In other words, you don't trust me in your kitchen?"

  He winced. "Well, there was quite a bit of washing up last time."

  She had made a wonderful earthy stew with meat so fresh he suspected she’d hunted it down, but the kitchen had been left in a state of complete and utter chaos. Why she even used half of the stuff inside, he had no idea.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll do the washing up."

  "Or you can let me serve you. I'll be your sous-chef. Command, I obey."

  Avani snorted. "Yeah, right. I totally peg you for a follower."

  "You'll find I can take direction very well when I'm inclined to." He held her gaze, and to his satisfaction, she blushed. That was a rare occurrence.

  "All right. How about some risotto? I'll need two shallots—diced, if you would."

  By the time she'd warmed up some milk, he'd peeled and diced them. She turned, and groaned. "Vampire speed. Way to make the rest of us feel inadequate."

  He laughed. "No, actually. Using our powers to go faster takes up some energy. I don't do it without cause. But I did train under a French chef in the eighteen hundreds. He whipped my cutting technique into shape." He rolled the knife between his fingers and asked, "Next?"

  "You're such a show-off. Mushrooms, please."

  He turned some music on and worked on a batch of wild mushrooms in companionable silence.

  "Hey, did you catch what Eirikr said about me?"

  Alexius tilted his head, intrigued. Eirikr hadn't paid much attention to Avani, other than announcing that he liked her, no doubt to get on everyone else's nerves. What he knew of the ancient suggested that Eirikr was a highly proficient psychic; he’d read Alexius’s fondness for Avani, Levi’s desire to get along with him for Chloe’s sake, and he’d naturally decided to fuck with all of them, no doubt just for his entertainment. The man lived in an empty cave, after all. Every time Alexius felt like despairing over his own cage, he told himself, “At least I’m not Eirikr.” The elder was bound to know a thing or two about boredom, even though he had cable now.

  Alexius closed his eyes and focused his memory on the trip to the cave, replaying everything in his mind, a neat trick he rarely used.

  "Immortal wolf," Alexius echoed. "That's what he called you. Perhaps he sensed your sire's energy in you."

  "Oh, yeah, that's probably it. All right. The food will be ready in ten minutes."

  She hoisted herself up on the countertop, grinning. Alexius couldn't help it, he always smiled back at her. An automatic reaction.

  "Where did you learn to cook?" he asked, washing his hands.

  If her first meal and the smell around the house from this one was any indication, she was good at it. He didn’t even like mushroom risotto. When he made it.

  “My friend, Julie, actually. She…” Avani grimaced. “She was always into cooking and that sort of thing. Then, she lost her parents early and started to do it every day. We hung out in the kitchen a lot, and I picked up a few things.”

  Her voice had changed, becoming darker and colored with sadness.

  Alexius finished drying his hands and threw the towel back on its hook before coming to stand next to Avani. "There's more to it. Tell me."

  He wanted to know everything. Especially what made her sad. He'd fix it.

  "Just something I learned today. Turns out, her guardian was a vile fiend who deserves to choke on his testicles."

  He chuckled. She had a way with words. "Oh?"

  "The new alpha. He used to force himself on her. I never knew. That makes me feel like a terrible friend.”

  Alexius blinked. "How would you like me to murder him?"

  She laughed, apparently under the impression he was joking. "I wouldn't. I'd prefer doing it myself. And I might just get an opportunity, depending on how things go on the full moon.”

  He lifted his mug of chocolate. “Here's to small mercies."

  She hopped down to check the food.

  "I don't see you in the Wolvswoods. I can't picture it. I've been there before; it's beautiful. The wolf village seemed quite quaint from a distance. But that place is too small for you. Too confining. I can't imagine you have much in common with most of your pack."

  "Yes, and no. I'm pretty much a homebody. I like my space, like most wolves, and I'm happy reading books, watching movies. I need to use up energy, of course, but most of the pack is in the same boat, so I could spar every day if I wanted to. In many ways, the pack suited me. Especially after wi-fi was installed. Plus, it was safe. Safer than the rest of the world for a lone she-wolf."

  He could imagine that.

  "But I admit it wasn't all that in many other ways. I couldn't have a conversation about philosophy, or personal beliefs; their stance on many things just pissed me off. Werewolves aren't sexist, exactly—females are respected. When they're dominant fighters. The way the submissives—males and females—are viewed and treated infuriated me. I never understood it. It's not how I was raised. For the first part of my life, I lived in a world where seeing others as inferior based on genetics wasn't okay. So, I couldn't quite connect to most of them. Let alone have a relationship with anyone."

  That did intrigue him. "No one in your pack caught your eye?"

  She laughed. "They're all more or less easy on the eyes. Wolf genes tend to be pretty awesome. Unfortunately, they have brains and mouths they choose to use. The alpha's son—the wolf you helped me get away from—was one of the most attractive guys, comparatively. He also believed he was entitled to me, because, well, he wanted me. And he thought that it was my duty to comply. Others agreed. There's a lot of inbreeding—they have to be careful when they mate, to avoid their direct c
ousins. As a wolf changed by Knox himself, with no ties to their bloodlines, I was a prize." She grimaced. "Some of the most disgusting ones thought I should just give free pussy, actually. Join their harem in the Pleasure House and pop out their babies." She looked down to his hand, and laughed, grabbing his wrist and lifting it to her eyes. "I thought I smelled blood."

  He'd clasped his fist so hard during her story that he'd broken the skin, his anger getting the better of him. It healed as they watched it.

  "Sorry. That's just pretty messed up."

  And it made him want to punch something. Bite into someone. Hard.

  "Yeah. One of the many reasons why I'm not sorry I'm out of the pack. I just want them to leave me alone. If it ends badly and there's violence…well, I'd feel pretty shitty. For what it's worth, not everyone is horrible in the pack. And they took me in. Took care of me for twelve years."

  "Because they wanted you to breed their mutts. Whatever happens to them, they've earned it." Alexius could feel darker instincts that hadn't been quite so wild in an era burn inside him. If he listened to himself, he'd go there right now and wipe out every single one of them.

  "Not all of them," Avani reminded him. "Besides, only a couple of guys made themselves a nuisance. The others knew I'd kick their asses if they so much as walked in my personal space."

  He had to laugh. “You know, I didn't think shifters could resist their instinct to give in to lust. A weaker woman would have caved, just to get release.”

  Shifters were as much human as they were animals, and their beast had needs; touch, sex, hunting, and eating fresh kills were some of the essential parts of a werewolf’s life.

  Avani snorted. “Oh, I didn't say I was a prude. I went to Edinburgh with the rest of the pack once a month. Knox sent out guards to make sure everything went smoothly. We left around noon and came back the next day. Let's just say, I used to take full advantage of those twenty-four hours."

  He had to quiet the stupid part of him that protested at the thought of her touching anyone. He was envious of those who’d gotten to kiss her, taste her, fuck her. Which was ridiculous and uncharacteristic.