With a gentle smile and a nod to them both, Archie retreated. He decided to leave them to their reunion and so bid the white smoke lady farewell. It was a relief to have a moment to think, plus he had a feeling Brodie might need some company. Even if he didn’t say so. He’d seemed to have clung onto his hatred for so long he might not know how to relinquish it, and so might need a friend while he worked through this new information Jakob had given him.
Archie found him just a short distance from the dank cell and came to a stop. He then pressed his back to the wall opposite and watched the still brooding jinni, maintaining the silence for as long as he might need it.
When the blatant sound of two people going at it reached them, Brodie finally laughed and shook his head. He then offered Archie a shrug, who grinned back at him.
“I can’t go any farther from her,” he explained, and then tapped his chest. Archie was reminded of how he was Wynter’s host and so it made sense he could not go far when she was out in the world. Brodie had to understand these things in ways a human such as he wouldn’t even begin to fathom. After all, he too had apparently survived the same way for hundreds of years and so would know the rules inside and out.
“Good of you to let them have some time together,” he answered, “how does it work, the smoke, I mean?”
“It’s weird, right?” Brodie answered with a smile, and for a second Archie thought he seemed happier. As if he quite liked having the chance to talk about his kind to someone new. “All I know is that I feel the same now as I do when I’ve transformed, even though I'm nothing more than a shadow. I can touch things and move objects as though I'm whole, but then again I can move through them without even thinking. The only problem is that unless we’re whole, we cannot sustain it for too long at a time. Not like when I'm in this form,” he added, indicating to his current stature. “Or, I can disappear completely,” Brodie informed him, and then he vanished in the blink of an eye.
“That shit’s insane!” Archie cried, staring into the blank space left behind. He then reached forward, thinking Brodie must've disappeared completely and that, like with their goblin friend back at the house, he wouldn’t be able to touch him, but then he felt something beneath his fingers and grabbed it. A second later the jinni showed himself again, and Archie realised he was holding onto his shoulder. He flushed and dropped his hand. “Sorry. I thought you’d be the same as Rafferty.”
“No problem,” Brodie answered, and for the slightest of moments, Archie could’ve sworn he’d seen him blush too. Maybe he wasn’t used to being touched, he didn’t know, but it made him realise something.
“Listen, it can’t be easy living with the pair of them,” he said, and indicated to the cell where Wynter and Jak were still going at it. “If you ever wanna talk or anything, just shout. I’ll even just sit with you if that’s what you need.”
Brodie said nothing. He went back to his usual brooding silence, but Archie still felt glad he’d said something. And, even though the jinni could be a douchebag and hadn’t been the most gracious of hosts the past couple of months, he’d actually meant it.
Eighteen
Marcus figured he’d never learn. He’d left Slave behind and burned it to the ground like he’d planned, and then he’d gone straight to his club in London and done the same there. He’d devoured more than twenty humans before the Priestess had stopped him, and was now sat staring at her hooded figure across the room of the supervisor’s office. Like some sort of naughty school kid who’d been called to the headmistress’s office.
“So what? I’m just meant to move on? Get over my heartbreak and all that lovey dovey shit?” he demanded with a sneer, and then he shrugged. “I’m just hungry.”
“No, my lord. You're not hungry. You're hurt and want to take it out on the world around you. Continue to do so and your empire will fall,” she told him, and he knew without asking that she must've seen a vision of his future. He didn’t doubt her newest prophecy could easily come true, and she was right, he needed to stop. To exercise some self-control and find a way to move forward.
But he just couldn't quash that yearning within him. The need that was still longing for what only Wynter seemed able to give him. And he knew exactly why.
“I love her, even still,” he groaned, and realised it was the first time he’d said it out loud.
“I know,” was all his powerful witch replied, and she stepped closer, offering him her hand. “And with any luck she will find her way back to you, but until then, you must remain patient. The hordes are scouring every corner of the globe for her, and they will not fail you. And until that time comes, you need to show some restraint.”
“You’re right,” he answered, taking her offered hand, “so let’s away until then. Take me far from where I can drink like this. Teach me how to live without her. Or at the least, take me somewhere in which I can be miserable in peace.”
“I know just the place,” the Priestess replied, and then led him from the room and out to where his only two remaining managers awaited him. Jack and Joanna were both propped up on sofas and were fighting sleep, and Marcus couldn't blame them. He’d kept them at his beck and call for months now and it was finally time he got back to his preferences when it came to his feeds. The two of them would have to do, at least until he could control his thirst again.
“Come,” he called as he passed them, and the two quickly fell in line behind their master without a word. They were his ever-loving companions. His trusted duo. All he had left of the legacy he had once built, and he vowed he would have it back. That he would put an end to all of this and move forward.
The four of them were on a plane within the hour and, after a short private charter to their onward location, arrived at Marcus’s private island off the coast of Mauritius by nightfall. It was the perfect hideaway. No humans for miles, apart from the two he’d brought with him, and most importantly, no distractions.
Joanna was giddy with excitement and when they approached his manse at the top coast of the roasting hot island, she let it be known. She ran straight for the ocean, where she kicked off her shoes and let the warm water cascade across her toes.
While Marcus wanted to chastise her for being so childlike, he decided against it. Her joy gave him pause. The scent of her happiness wasn’t as unwelcome as usual, and so he just watched her prance around like a silly girl, while Jack continued to stare longingly at the Priestess he still adored. She was covered from head to toe, as usual, and was pointedly ignoring him, as usual.
They were an odd quartet, but one Marcus didn’t mind banding together for the time being. He needed to shut out the rest of the world for a short while, and there was nowhere better to do it than with two plentiful sources of food and his most trusted companion.
That night, Joanna tended to him and Marcus even let her lie close to him as he drank from her. He couldn't help but smile to himself when she began panting with need and started to clench her thighs and writhe atop the bed beside him. She hadn’t been so wanton with him for a while, and he knew he had the island to thank for it. The change of pace had been welcome, and it occurred to him then how perhaps, just this once, he might give her what she’d wanted for so very long.
Marcus closed the wound he’d made on her neck and knew Joanna expected for him to leave, but instead he uncovered one of her small breasts and began sucking the nipple into his mouth and around his tongue. He didn’t make a cut though, and it was a good thing he hadn’t, because a second later the poor woman was climaxing and screaming like she was possessed.
She really had remained celibate for him. So much so that she was fit to burst.
He ran his hand over her skinny waist and then lifted her skirt, and all the way he was comparing her body to Wynter’s. He couldn't help it, but still carried on regardless of feeling nothing but flaws. He needed a distraction and hoped Joanna might be the one to deliver it, and so forced himself to try and forget the other woman. The one whose skin felt different ag
ainst his. The one who tasted different. Smelled different. Was just too different.
Irreplaceable, he thought, but then pushed it away. With his mouth still on her breast, Marcus pushed two fingers inside Joanna’s soaked core and began to pummel her with them. He was being rough, he knew, but there could be no niceness here. No gentleness. Only savage, brutal need.
When she came again, Marcus reared up off the bed onto his knees and stared down at her, watching as she pleaded and begged him for more.
Instead, he wrenched his hand from between her thighs and rubbed them clean with her dress before reaching down and wrapping his hand around her throat.
“You’re nothing, Joanna,” he spat, and revelled in her sadness, “nothing.”
He then left her there, and without a word he stalked out into the ocean and ducked under the waves, where he screamed into the water with all his might in the knowledge no one would be able to hear him.
After a couple weeks spent continuing to indulge Joanna’s fantasies, only to then rough her up again afterwards, Marcus realised he was starting to enjoy her. Just a little.
The Priestess had stayed out of sight and she left him to his game, while Jack was still pining for the woman he couldn't forget, and kept looking for her around the island and in the huge house. Marcus had caught him sneaking into the many unused rooms in a bid to come across her, the mother of his unborn child, but he had no idea how her magic worked. She could be anywhere she chose to be, either visible or invisible. He wouldn’t just happen upon her, she would have to will it so, but he was still interesting to watch. Still delicious in his agonising unrequited love.
In some ways, Marcus wondered if he and Jack weren’t quite alike in their current situation. Did he too wear that same desperate look of a man in love with someone he could not have? Was he searching fruitlessly for someone who didn’t want to be found, while everyone around him pitied him for it? He damn well hoped not, but knew if anyone had ever dared pity him, he would quickly lay waste to them for daring to do so. He was not the sort to be treated that way, even by those who meant well in doing so.
One morning, while Jack was preparing some lunch for him and Joanna, Marcus laid in the sunshine with his eyes closed and he opened his mind. He felt a niggle at the base of his skull and called out to the alpha of his horde, who came back with the most wondrous of answers for him. He’d caught a scent.
The most wondrous of fragrances.
Her…
Come to me, he called out in silent order, come here.
When he opened his eyes, he realised he was hard at the waist. Ready for Wynter to touch and for him to drive into her. Shit, just the thought of her had him so eager. So ready.
She was a jinni now too, far from the vulnerable human she’d been before, and he knew she could take a proper fucking. Oh, and how he would.
He gripped himself and closed his eyes as he stroked, imagining her body against his. He was beyond ready to have her back, his little fighter, and came quickly just thinking about the battles they would resume and the beatings she could take from him now that she was an immortal creature.
When he was sated with one thirst, he called out to Joanna to satisfy another, and to her credit, she was by his side barely a minute later. She offered her wrist, but Marcus was still feeling playful. He pulled her down on top of him and bit her at the neck instead. And of course it was a mere moment before she was writhing atop him, making him hard once again.
Desire flooded through him. Needs that had to be fulfilled. Cravings that would indeed be satisfied.
By his third gulp Joanna was crying out for him to stop, but it was too late. She climaxed with her vein open and his mouth gulping at the delectable blood pumping from it, and Marcus drank her adrenalin full body dry.
She was dead in a matter of seconds, but he found he didn’t care. Not as much as he might’ve thought, and he pushed her away and left her lifeless body slumped in a heap beside him on the sun lounger.
“Well at least she died doing what she loved…” the Priestess told him as she appeared out of nowhere, and Marcus grinned.
“Not like you to make jokes, my lady?” he told her.
She said nothing in response, but he could tell she was smiling back at him from under her cloak. His eyes then drifted down to her belly, where her child was growing within. She was beginning to show a decent curve to her usually tiny waist, and she stroked her bump, clearly having seen him.
“Shit!” Jack then cried and they both turned to watch as he ran from the house and towards Joanna, as though to check on her, but he stopped dead when he saw Marcus giving him a scathing look of reproach.
“She only has herself to blame,” he told his minion, who was forced to nod in spite of his shock and fear.
“Always was an insufferable pain in the arse,” the Priestess added and, for reasons Marcus couldn't fathom, she then lifted her hood and removed it, revealing her alter ego to his now sole surviving manager.
“Marcella?” Jack sighed, and he did a double take as he watched her reveal herself further. The Priestess removed her cloak completely, and she smiled when he dropped to his knees and stared at the ample round of her stomach. His child was indeed growing inside. Their daughter. “You… it was you. All this time?”
“Yes,” she replied with ease, and then ushered for him to stand. He followed her lead and then began to cry when she took his hand and placed it on her belly. “Her heart is pure, and strong. She will do us proud.”
“I thought I’d never know what became of her, or you. I thought you’d ignore me forever?”
“I wasn’t ignoring you, my darling. I was merely waiting for you to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” he whimpered.
“To love me, through thick and thin. You’ll know what I mean, when the time comes,” was all she replied, and then she took his hand and led him over to where her master was still sat watching them.
“My lady?” Marcus asked, and watched as she climbed to her knees before him and then ushered for Jack to do the same.
“Do you bless us, my lord? Will you pronounce us married and bonded for eternity? As one, now and forevermore?” she replied indignantly, and Marcus couldn't hide his surprise.
Marcella had never given him so much as a hint that she harboured feelings for Jack, and in fact she’d seemed to actively avoid him, but then here she was asking for them to be wed? Something was afoot and Marcus went to argue the case, but then his Priestess lifted her gaze to his and he saw pain in her eyes. Suffering.
His strong and formidable sidekick was hurting, and while he didn’t know why, he knew that she meant what she’d asked for. She had her reasons, and they were hers to keep secret should she wish.
Marcus turned to Jack and eyed him curiously. He wasn’t afraid to accept her and was clearly aroused. Given the scent of him he was fit to burst, and so was evidently impressed that the shrouded witch was in fact someone he’d worked alongside for years. Someone he had been attracted to before, and was even more so now that he knew the two women were one and the same.
“You have my blessing,” he told them, and then watched as Marcella performed a binding ritual with the wide-eyed human. He couldn't tell what was going on, or if what they had was necessarily true love, but in that moment, they were both at peace. Marcella pushed aside whatever was paining her, and she smiled earnestly as she bonded her soul with Jack’s.
They had shared a mind-blowing and life-changing time together a few months before and only now were they committing to more, and it made Marcus think again about how he had tackled things with Wynter. There was so much that he could’ve done differently. And he knew that, given the chance, he wouldn’t mistreat her like he had again.
Hindsight, what a marvellous thing.
The alpha vampire and his group of soldiers arrived the next morning via Marcus’s private plane and as soon as he looked into the behemoth’s eyes, he knew it was true. They had caught a whiff of his be
loved. The tiniest of sparks had indeed hit his senses back on the blustery British Isles, and the huge male grinned at his master.
“Wynter,” he hissed, his first word Marcus had ever heard him speak, and then he licked his lips. The beast had caught a trace of his prey, and so he was ready to hunt her down. The alpha wanted her, but it was his master who would reap the reward when they tracked down where Brodie was hiding her, and he would let nothing get between them. Not this time.
“Take me,” Marcus replied, and within the hour they were all back on the plane and heading towards his old home.
Back to the burnt out shell that’d once been Slave.
Back to her…
Nineteen
Archie let out an exasperated sigh as, yet again, he failed to get the chopper more than three feet off the ground before losing control. It was like something was dragging them back down and, after ten hours’ spent behind the controls, he’d had enough.
His stoic guide said nothing as they both climbed down and then performed their final checks, but on the way back to the cave, Brodie stopped outside the entrance and turned to him, much like he had the last time they'd actually talked.
“Would you mind letting him feed?” he asked, and Archie didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. He just nodded and walked past the grumpy jinni, but he didn’t go to Jakob’s cell. Instead, he went into the house and to the kitchen, where he sliced a cut into his palm and then let the blood trickle into a mug.
“Here,” he snapped, handing it to Brodie without even looking at him, and then he cleaned himself up. It was funny how the sight of blood wasn’t quite so much of a trigger as before, but he guessed a daily offering would do that to you. He was certainly desensitised to it nowadays and guessed that was one bonus.
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