by CK Dawn
Chloe gave Mordecai a devilish smile.
“Get that Spree open, now!” He turned his head and snapped.
The red Moirai sister ran, fumbling up the grand staircase, and joined her sisters. They held hands and began chanting, louder and louder, as wind whipped around them.
“You made him angry.” Chloe warned Mordecai.
As if on her command, the entire masonry wall of red arched doors was ripped from its foundation, exposing the world outside.
“Your Bram?” Mordecai got up and stood behind the velvet sofa. He looked out the massive opening and into the devastated landscape.
“No,” Chloe said coolly. She followed his panicked stare and watched as Rome began burning to the ground. “War!”
Bram’s dragon soared through the air, making pass after pass, setting everything on fire in his wake.
Chloe’s new bloodlust rose in excitement to mirror War’s cruelty. He was masterful, leaving nothing standing, or living, within the city. Black smoke filled the sky as billowing orange plumes rose from the rubble. The carcass of the Colosseum crumbled to the ground with a crash and the howling death cries of the Vega pack echoed into the Hollow. It was glorious. Her body trembled with orgasmic flutters every time War roared. He was calling to her. She wanted to fly up, soar beside him, and watch the world burn.
“Go.” Mordecai’s sultry voice purred from behind her. He rubbed her shoulders and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’m not opposed to sharing.”
His gentle touch sent even more flutters through her body. He leaned down and kissed her lips. It was soft and sweet, but gone as quickly as the wind passing between an angel’s wings.
But when Chloe looked through the opening of Crimson Hollow again, Rome had disappeared. The view had changed to Paris. Avery was there. Her massive white bird of prey form was ripping buildings apart with her talons. She flew through the air, ducking underneath the Arc de Triomphe, before plucking the Eiffel Tower out of the ground, and using it to level the rest of the city.
Mordecai stroked Chloe’s hair seeming to be pleased with her world’s destruction. She was too.
A horde of humans fleeing all the falling buildings was being corralled like a herd of cattle toward the river Seine. Chloe looked closer at the two fae figures directing the terrified masses. One looked like the undead, scabbed, and putrid green, almost unrecognizable as even having a human form. He was death itself. Unwavering, he demanded the mortals’ deaths as they plummeted into the river by the hundreds. There was no escape in sight except for a wave of his hand as death consumed their essence, body and soul. The other fae was a long raven-haired beauty, dressed in all black, and just as horrifying. She was transforming into a flying serpent form from time to time, hovering just above the mob, and taking pleasure in striking them dead where they stood with her venomous, spiked tail.
The new dusk blood would gladly join all four of the Horsemen in their campaign of breathtaking inhalation if only she could reach them. But her blood bond with Mordecai was too strong. Her sire demanded her attention and she was helpless to deny him. She could taste his desire on her lips, still warm and metallic. He removed her bra strap from her shoulder and brushed his fingertips over the two puncture wounds on her neck. It sent flickers of excitement across her skin.
The view from Crimson Hollow’s large, jagged opening shifted again as Mordecai plunged his fangs deep into her neck. Euphoria surged through her body and heat rose from between her thighs. She watched as millions of bodies piled up as a pandemic ripped across Europe’s medieval landscape. No village or castle was spared. Humans and black rats alike fled as the Four Horsemen laid waste to any who survived their glorious Black Death.
Mortimer and Famke? Chloe thought unexpectedly, but her mind began to trail off again. She tried to focus and pushed Mordecai away. As he stared at her his body dissolved into thousands of flakes of fiery ash just like all the scabs she had killed.
They’re dead. The Moirai sisters looked down at her as they opened the Mirror. Wake up! Their chanting became a demand. Now!
Chloe bolted straight up in bed and gasped for air. She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes burned from the sun streaming through the window. She jumped out of bed, clinging to a pillow hoping it could protect her new vampire body from the deadly light. She hugged the wall and hid within its shadow. Searching for puncture wounds, her hands scoured her neck, there weren’t any. Still terrified, she searched her mouth for any unwanted fangs. Nothing. Finally, she looked down at her leg. It was healed and all that remained as proof of her run-in with the Vega wolf pack was her torn and blood-soaked jeans.
“Don’t worry. You’re still human. Unfortunately.” Mordecai tried to muffle his laughter.
Startled by his presence, Chloe jumped.
“A little indestructible, at least for the moment, but still, just human.” Sitting in a chair on the opposite side of her bed, he placed a goblet of blood on the bedside table. “Our blood bond however will take time to fade. Have any interesting dreams?”
Coming down from the intoxicating blood high Mordecai had indulged in by the looks of his half empty glass, she threw her pillow at him. “You, bastard!”
He caught it and stood up from the chair. “What! Was I just supposed to let you die?”
“Well...no!” Chloe admitted, but she was still angry.
“No.” Mordecai’s silky voice agreed as he placed the pillow on her bed.
She looked around then, recognizing where she was. The room wasn’t some dark seedy brothel-type area of Crimson Hollow. She was in the Spree, in the same room she and Bram had spent their last hours together before he had lost himself to his dragon. Mordecai had kept his word. “I’m human? And, Bram and Mary are still...gone?”
“Yes, love.” The vampire’s voice was soft and filled with sadness. “It was only a dream.”
Chloe sank to the floor and hugged her knees. She buried her face trying to hide her tears as the dream faded. Seeing Bram, even in his Horseman form had felt so real. The dream had horrified her, yet seeing his dragon, any semblance of the man she loved, reminded her of her fears and what she had lost. She missed him so much.
“Hilgrid left fresh clothes for you.” Mordecai made his way to the door.
“Hilgrid?” Chloe’s hopeful eyes met his. She had been sure all the witches were dead.
“She’s here. Come down when you’re ready. She’s waiting for you.” He closed the door behind him, jiggling the knob to let her know it was locked.
A joyful giggle left her belly and cut through her tears. Laughter through tears was her favorite emotion. His kindness and humor lifted her spirits.
The heated argument coming from downstairs kept Chloe from descending the rickety wooden staircase. She feared Hilgrid and Mordecai would become silent as soon as she entered the room, so, she listened from the landing instead.
“You’re an idiot and a fool!” Hilgrid scolded.
“The Moirai sisters becoming the Fate’s is just an old witch’s tale, nothing more.”
“You turned the first into the prophesized vampire-witch hybrid! How will the wolves not be pressured into doing the same? Who will protect them? You?” Hilgrid scoffed.
“Even if they turn the next, the prophecy ends with their wolf-witch hybrid. The last Moirai will never become fae. It’s an impossibility.” Mordecai seemed pleased with himself. “Like I said, an old witch’s tale, nothing more.”
“Fool!” Hilgrid spat again. “That innocent girl up there holds the key!”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have rolled up the welcome mat. How else was I to get her here? I went with plan B. You left me no choice!” Chloe could almost picture Mordecai tugging down his jacket lapels, dismissing her worry. “She can name a Horseman. What of it?”
“A Fae Horseman.” Hilgrid threatened, drawing out the word.
Mordecai went deathly silent.
The floor beneath Chloe’s foot creaked. Shit!
&n
bsp; “Chloe?” Hilgrid called from the base of the steps.
Chloe walked down and into Hilgrid’s awaiting bear hug. “I’ll never name a Horseman, ever!” She didn’t know what fate awaited the Moirai sisters, but she reiterated the promise she had once told Bram. She would rather die than ever name another Horseman.
“I know that, love.” Hilgrid pulled away and looked to Mordecai. “We know that. It does prove the prophecies legitimacy though, yes?” She said defiantly.
“A fear for another day.” Mordecai suggested.
“Agreed.” Hilgrid harrumphed.
“Speaking of War…” Mordecai changed the subject. “We need him.”
“And Mary?” Chloe looked to Hilgrid.
“You spoke of the Hamadryad Forest and finding Mary there while you slept. How do you know of the Hamadryad?”
“A little magic creature from Fae told me I could find her there. I trust him.”
Higrid nodded. “It makes sense that that’s where Avery would have taken her. The coven’s been unable to sense her. She has to be there.” Chloe was giving her a worried and questioning look. “The coven would know if she were dead, my dear. She’s alive... and knew full well the risk of her actions, sending Tenebris to the Blood Reaping Quincentennial.” Hilgrid grew angry, but her voice remained soft when speaking of her beloved coven sister. “Mary’s familiar, present at the event, proved her unspoken allegiance to the Horseman of War and she paid that price willingly. We all knew that without the human realm, there would be no Spree, but she’s far braver than any of us could ever be.”
“Did you lose anyone else?”
Hilgrid shook her head. “It could have been much worse. But losing Mary was enough and came at a great cost. Taking her so easily was meant as a message to the rest of us, to stay in line.”
“We’ll get her back.” Chloe gave the witch a somber smile. “And Tenebris?”
The witch shook her head again. “When he didn’t arrive with you, we could only assume he went to watch over Mary, invisible to the fae.”
“How did Avery even get into the Spree? Didn’t she defy its delicate balance? Why didn’t it cast her out?” Chloe couldn’t believe that the same Spree that seemed so threatening to Bram could be so easily penetrated by Avery.
“She had a Magic Dampner.”
“More witch’s tales.” Mordecai dismissed the notion under his breath. “They’re nothing more than a myth. No one has seen one in over a thousand years.”
“I saw it.” Hilgrid declared.
“Impossible.”
“Explain Mortimer’s death by Avery’s own hand then? Tell me that wasn’t the Dampner’s price?”
Mordecai fell silent again.
“How do we get Mary back?” Chloe grew tired of his pessimism and disbelief.
“A Horseman entombed Mary in the Hamadryad Forest. Only a Horseman possess the ability to release her.” Hilgrid looked at Chloe. “Any witch who enters is signing their own death warrant. We are powerless there. We need Pri...we need Bram.”
“We need Bram.” Chloe agreed, grabbing the silent heart-stone resting against her chest. “And he should be right where Little Blue left him...I hope.”
“I should go with you.” Mordecai stood in the doorway of Mary’s shop and startled Chloe.
“No. I need to do this alone.” Chloe returned to searching through vials, potions, and shelves, furrowing her brow at Hilgrid’s barely legible and hastily scribbled note as she went. The witch had offered to gather the necessities, but Chloe wanted some time to think before she went after Bram. She grabbed an axe off a table, remembering how Mary had sliced her arm open with a similar weapon, leaving it behind in the Horsemen realm for Bram’s return. Using the same style weapon for this trip to the realm seemed fitting. “So, just how indestructible am I?”
“I said a little indestructible, not immortal. Just don’t go getting yourself disemboweled or beheaded and you should be fine. Probably.” He gestured to the axe. “A slice or cut will heal. Not vampire fast, but faster than you normally would. That, and my blood gave you a smidge of longevity to your human life. So, you’re welcome.”
“I’m like Nefra then?”
“Similar. Not the same.”
“How old is she?”
“Ancient.”
“She drinks your blood keeping her virtually ageless, and you drink hers, but she’s still human?”
“Yes.”
“Not a vampire or a dusk blood?”
“No.”
“How?”
“I entrusted you with Crimson Hollow’s secret to keep you out of Avery’s grasp. But until you look at me at least like someone you could trust, I don’t--” He sighed. “Let’s just say there are some things I’m not only able to lie to protect, but I’m willing to die for.” He grabbed Hilgrid’s note from her hand. “Enough with deep and meaningful conversations, hmm? Ah, I can help with this one.” Mordecai placed the note and an empty vial on the counter. He sliced his finger on her axe and let his blood flow into the awaiting vial. Capping the contents with a cork, he licked his finger clean, his wound already healed, and offered the vial to Chloe. “Neither I, nor the Moirai sisters would’ve been capable of opening a portal to the Horsemen realm. The kinship your Bram shares with the Spree witches, with humans...humanity itself, it’s truly a special thing.” He shook his head. “But blood of the damned, now that, I can do. At your service, butterfly girl.” Mordecai looked at her then. “Sorry. Forgot.”
His admission of what awaited him upon death was like a rock dropping into her stomach. She took the vial, but didn’t let go of his hand. Reaching up, she touched his cheek, and placed a soft kiss against his lips. “Thank you.” Chloe looked into his eyes, unafraid of being compelled. She did trust him. “Not just for saving my life, but for everything you’ve done. Crimson Hollow’s secret will always be safe with me.”
“And you will always be welcome there.”
“I know.” She smiled.
Mordecai sighed. “Intoxicating indeed, Chloe Etain.”
“Are you sure you weren’t in my dream?”
“Did you want me to be?” Mordecai teased and winked at her.
She rolled her eyes.
“Sadly no, I wasn’t privy to your dream, but your emotions were exhilarating if not all over the place.” He laughed. “Fear not, our connection will fade, especially once I’ve left the Spree.”
“Going back to the Hollow?”
Mordecai nodded. “Hilgrid was right. If what’s coming from the Moirai sisters even has the slightest chance of being true, I need to protect the wolves. They’ve kept the truth about dusk bloods and Crimson Hollow, not only from humans, but from Fae, even throughout our twisted and intertwining history. I owe them for that.”
“Please tell me that means Bean is off the hook.” She asked.
“Are you daring to ask a favor of a fae?” Mordecai raised his eyebrow in warning.
“Do I even need to?”
“Fine.” He straightened his tie and grabbed the iron toolbox off the counter. “I can’t lose my best bartender anyway.” Offering her his arm, he bowed overdramatically. “At least allow me the honor of escorting you to the Mirror to wish you safe journeys, and we’ll call it even?”
“Fine.” She coiled her arm around his. “I can’t lose my best vampire either.”
“Ha!” But Mordecai stopped. “Wait. Do you mean yours truly or Bean?” He seemed insulted as if the mention of the dusk blood’s sour name tainted his tongue.
“If only you could read my mind, oh blood bond master o’mine.” She teased.
“Intoxicating!” Mordecai was smiling from ear to ear. “Well, would you take a look at us? We’ve come a long way from you wanting to kill me. Dare I say, we may even be friends?”
“Oh, I still want to kill you. But then you let that annoying endearing side of yours come out. So, yeah, I’d say friends.”
“Endearing, hmm? No one has ever described me quite that
way before.”
“Must be the bond talking.”
“Ha, yes, it must.”
Chloe closed the door to Mary’s shop. Sadness washed over her as the door disappeared into the wall and a closed sign floated down into the window. She and Mordecai walked down the cobblestone street to the awaiting witches.
“Any ideas how I’m even supposed to do this?” Chloe asked no on in particular as they approached the small group surrounding the opening Mirror. She pulled an all-to-familiar vial of black goo from her pocket and chugged it as fast as she could. Nope! Still gross. She gagged, forgetting to hold her breath.
“Is letting him rot still on the table?” Mordecai mused.
Hilgrid shot him a look, the orbs of white light rotating violently in her palms amplifying her scowl.
“What? It’s an inside joke.” He smile at Chloe. “Too soon?”
Chloe rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Sorry, love.” Was all Hilgrid could offer in response.
“What the witch is trying to say is we are all a bunch of selfish insensitive pricks when it comes to matters-of-the-heart.” The master vampire’s eyes glistened when he looked at Chloe. “Trust your gut and your heart. They’ve gotten you this far.”
She was getting more nervous every second she prolonged the inevitable. Letting the vampire attach the axe and holster to her waist, she couldn’t help but smile. He was crass, ruthless, and undeniably cruel, but somewhere deep inside she saw the yearning of a man striving to do the right thing.
Mordecai must have seen her lingering smile from the corner of his eye. His lips brushed against her cheek before he whispered in her ear. “May we meet again someday, Chloe Etain.”
“Someday…” She agreed. “Just don’t go around wearing any more lavender! The color of vile-bitch just doesn’t suit you.”
His smile was all the recognition Chloe needed. “As you wish.”
They both knew she was referring to his false allegiance to Avery.
Even from its iron vault, the Horseman blade thrummed with anticipation of being with its master again. Fiery waves of emotions washed over her, both hers and foreign feelings assaulted her every pore and threatened to consume her. Then, a calm cooling balm enveloped her, nudging her on, believing in her.