by Sage, May
"That was a long time ago."
"Yes. And the family doctor was so good as to inform me now."
His voice held as much thunder as his mind.
"You will stay here, where you're safe. And I will take care of our dear aunt."
That wasn't a question, it was an order, delivered with as much authority as any directive Drusilla had ever given.
"You can't. She's the head of the family." But it was more than that. "She is the first Stormhale, turned by Ariadne herself."
No other family was still led by their founding members. Most had died, the surviving ones had long turned into hermits, and, of course, there was Eirikr in his cage. But the Stormhales were under the thumb of a woman almost as powerful as the gods themselves.
“I came back from New York early yesterday to be told that Claudia was in the hospital. A broken ankle, they said. She was bruised too. Do you happen to know how she got those wounds?”
Cat looked away. “Our training was rough.”
“They didn’t train you. They brainwashed you into behaving, into believing that having a mind of your own would only lead to pain. Claudia told me what Uncle Antony did to her, under Drusilla’s orders. She told me what they did to you.” He glanced at her hands. “Have you ever played again?”
Cat wet her lips, finding nothing to say.
“This needs to end. They need to end. I killed Uncle Antony. He screamed and begged, but I killed him slowly nonetheless. I'm sure you'll hear of it soon. They'll tell you it was the work of some huntsmen, of course. And I will kill Drusilla, too. While she lives, I apparently can’t count on your safety—or Claudia’s."
He said all this very casually, without emotion or shame.
"You're insane."
Seth chuckled. "Everyone I know wants to use me. Everyone. The exceptions are my two sisters. Neither of you have ever asked anything of me. So whoever hurts you signs their own death warrant. Call it insanity if you will.”
She most definitely was calling that insanity.
But she was glad Antony was dead. Glad he'd suffered, too.
“All right, what now?”
“Now, I bring you out by force. And we destroy your wards.”
She stiffened, her eyes widening.
“What?”
Seth grinned, a cocky smirk she was only too familiar with.
“Do you trust me, sister?”
That was the question of the day, wasn’t it? If she listened and he was spouting bullshit, all her friends would suffer. But if there was a chance Seth could really be on her side, she had to take it.
Deceptions
"Antoine. Gretchen," Levi greeted the two closest vampires to him almost pleasantly. "It's been quite some time. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
The woman he'd called Gretchen, a slender blonde who looked like she might chew metal bars for kicks, bared her teeth. Bash wasn't surprised to discover that they were all filed into pointed fangs.
"Since when have the Beaufort slayers needed a reason to visit their master's keep?"
"Since Oldcrest was attacked last winter. Haven't you heard?"
The woman growled. Antoine, a handsome bald man who had been turned in his forties or fifties, put his hand on her arm, appeasing her on contact.
They could be intimate. Maybe. Possibly. Bash would have banked on another theory: Antoine had a gift of sort, a mind control thing similar to Chloe's whispering.
Gretchen didn't look like she was intimate with anyone.
"Yes, we have heard," the man said, turning to Levi. "But we've heard more pressing concerns, like you've arrested Anika Beaufort without notifying or asking her family’s permission. Our masters have reason to be concerned."
"I contacted Francois Beaufort according to our laws, and he made no reply expressing his concern. I believe he intends to attend the trial in London next week."
"Francois will have his niece now. She'll be in the custody of her family while we await the verdict of the trial, as is our way."
"Francois may have his niece if he comes to claim her himself. You know better than to think I would yield to a slayer."
Gretchen stepped forward.
Levi tilted his head toward her. "And what is the butcher of the Stormhales doing here? Any particular attachment to the Beaufort bitch?"
Bash couldn't help it: he grinned. Levi was seriously getting a rise out of them, but they weren't moving. Which meant they had orders.
"You've no honor," the woman spat. "Closing these gates isn't your right."
"No? I seem to recall, some hundred years ago, when the humans around here who believed they had a right to these lands put it up for sale. I recall writing and asking who was interested in financing this venture to ensure our history remained protected. And back then, the Beauforts, the Stormhales, and the Rosedeans believed that their funds would be better placed elsewhere, did they not?"
So that was why Levi was listed as the owner of Oldcrest. Bash had assumed it was some type of co-op deal with the rest of the royals, before.
"This is my home. I've allowed you to keep your houses, but this is my home," he repeated. "Your masters have no authority here. And their minions, even less so."
He was hitting a nerve, judging by the crowd’s increasingly angry expressions.
"You will not let us pass."
"I won't."
"You will not let us recover Anika, a member of our household."
"I will not."
Antoine grinned. "You do realize this gives us leave to declare war on your house, Devil."
"I have written most of our laws, child. I know them better than you ever will. You may hold a siege. Good luck getting in without your key."
Lightning flashed above them, and the bald vampire grinned.
"No matter. We have another way in."
Bash's eyes widened, and he stepped forward. Right behind the line of slayers, a tall, handsome man with eyes he recognized had appeared, holding Catherine by the throat. He was ridiculous, dressed like a bloody knight, with a sword and all.
So much for trusting her brother.
Levi's arm barred the way as Bash tried to advance. He shook his head once.
"So that was your plan. Make the girl invite you in. Not the worst idea," he admitted, his tone still light. "And then what? Who among you proposes to get past me?"
Bash looked down. His feet felt wet suddenly, and no wonder. He was standing in a puddle. And it was rising fast. One inch, then two, then five. He looked back past the borders and now understood why Levi had played for time.
The lake. All of the lake’s water was traveling through Oldcrest, crawling toward them.
The slayers weren't unsettled at all, and Bash guessed that was for two reasons: first, Chloe's plan had worked, and they were underestimating their forces. But mostly because they hadn't shown their cards yet. The Beauforts and Stormhales had more in store, even more than the frightening mage holding on to Catherine.
"Many of us will die, that's true. But we are sworn to protect our house. When one of our masters is unjustly held captive, there can be no rest for us. Sir?" Antoine prompted, looking back at Seth.
The man smiled, his hand tightening over Catherine's throat.
"Come on, little sister. You know it's inevitable."
"No."
He lifted his hand to her face, a bright ball of silver-blue energy playing in his grasp.
"A thousand volts. While other Stormhales' magic may not do much to you, mine would be deliciously excruciating. I don't want to hurt you, but I will, sweetling."
Bash leaped forward. He reached Antoine and punched the smug fuck right in the face before Luke and Ruby held him back.
The Beaufort slayer smiled.
"You'll be the first person I kill."
Bash didn't care about him. He didn't care about anyone or anything, other than getting to Catherine and punching the hell out of her disdainful brother.
"I will not let you through."
Seth sighed and pushed his left hand against her chest. She screamed, high-pitched and heart-wrenching.
And fake.
So fucking fake.
No one else got that. Not Levi, not the slayers. But right then, watching her artfully contorted face writhe in mock pain, Bash was certain. She was acting.
He kept thrashing against Luke and Ruby, not daring to give anything away. But he could have laughed.
Catherine was playing them all. Somehow.
Seth let go of Catherine, and she fell forward onto her knees.
"Is that all you got?" she asked.
"Yes, dear. Is that all you could do, really?"
The voice spoke seconds before she appeared, a woman similar to Catherine, although her hair was dark as night and her skin golden-brown and sun-kissed, like so many from the islands around the Mediterranean Sea.
Exquisite. And dangerous.
Along with her, in a smoky mist, twelve other elders appeared. A short man with the eyes and tongue of a snake, and a greenish complexion. A tall one, so frail he looked like a strong wind might knock him onto his ass, but his black eyes told another story. Each one of them possessed an aura just as gargantuan as Levi's.
No wonder the slayers hadn't been impressed.
Shit.
Did they have enough people to defend Oldcrest against all those ancients?
All the Monsters
"I suppose you always have been fond of the girl. Understandable, since you're bound by blood. Worthless and disloyal as Catharina may prove to be."
Catherine shivered, crawling backward. She couldn't help it. She always trembled when Drusilla was near.
"No matter. I can make her heel well enough."
Cat looked back to the borders. Levi stood up front with Bash, Luke, and Ruby. Bash was fighting to get to her, despite the hundreds of warriors separating them. Shit, the guy was sweet. And loyal. And hers. She’d done nothing to deserve him, but he was hers all the same.
Behind them, on the other side of the wall, everyone else stood so very close to the border, edging in. Both Mikar and Alexius were holding Chloe's hands, as if expecting her to rush forward at any second.
And, knowing her, she might.
They'd been smart to hide. Cat suspected it would have been a lot harder to draw Drusilla out if she didn't believe they were dreadfully outnumbered.
Still, too many guards were gathered around her for Seth to execute his plan. If he killed her, they'd be on him right away. Cat could see her brother had come to the same conclusion; his expression was cold.
Before them stood Credence Beaufort and Marina Slate, his long-term companion; Sylph Denningway, married into the Stormhale line; Fiona Hue, another ancient attached to Drusilla; and, more concerning, Julia Stormhale, Drusilla’s only surviving child, a match for her mother in both power and cruelty. The others, Cat couldn't identify, but she knew that against all twelve of them, even her brother had little chance.
Seth had done nothing to her, holding a benign energy sphere that had only served to replenish her. But Drusilla was going to make it hurt. And if Seth attacked her now, he'd be doomed.
Unexpectedly, Cat felt a wet substance touch her feet, and she looked down to find water surrounding her, and also gathering at Drusilla’s feet.
Levi. Levi was making sure that her aunt couldn’t use her storm without hurting herself.
At least she wouldn’t have to endure the oldest Stormhale’s devastating magic. But Drusilla knew many ways to torture people.
Drusilla took a step toward Cat, grinning. She stilled. She should have gotten up, run, tried to flee. Maybe even fight. But that all seemed pointless.
She winced, expecting a blow she would have to endure. No matter what, the Oldcrest borders had to hold. They had to.
She closed her eyes as the long, sinuous fingers approached her, feeling a dark shadow drawing near, ready to tear her apart.
A sudden scream tore through the silence, ending as fast as it had come. And it hadn't come from her.
Something heavy fell on her. Heavy and wet.
Her eyelids flew open, her pupils dilated. Seth stood in front of her, holding her sword, Lightning, now thick with blue blood.
Drusilla's body was limp over Cat while her head rolled down the gentle slope.
She blinked, confused for half a second, then leaped to her feet and rushed to guard Seth's back.
"That wasn't very well thought-out, now was it," she commented as the slayers and ancients rushed toward them.
"Yeah, well, I panicked," Seth replied, handing her the sword. "You're gonna need this."
And she did.
Cat slashed the air just as the first Beaufort slayer reached her, catching his hand, then blocking an attack from the left flank. Sensing another oncoming threat, she pivoted on her heels and parried flashing claws. It was all protective mode; she didn’t have time to lunge or feint or attack the constant onslaught of enemies. Fuck, they were strong. And fast.
A storm gathered overhead and fell down before circling her and Seth, separating them from the masses. She caught her breath, and had a moment to see that Ruby and Luke had let go of Bash.
Cat blinked, and a laugh escaped her lips.
He'd been right all along. He was a monster.
When he watched the terrifying ancient approach Catherine, something unlocked in Bash. It had been there all along, beneath the surface, and for a time, he'd been afraid of it. Afraid of what he glimpsed when he saw his desires, his needs, his new instincts. But he embraced it. He welcomed the freak. To get to Cat right then, he voluntarily called the monster to him.
The ground underneath his feet shook, and without even thinking, he stomped his foot deep into the ground. The first line of enemies, the smirking Antoine and fangy Gretchen, along with a dozen of their pals, fell down as the earth shattered beneath them. He'd created a ravine, just like that.
Luke and Ruby were both wise enough to let go then. And he started running.
He only stopped to see Cat's brother swing the sword at his side, beheading the woman who'd threatened her.
Then he breathed and kept going, because nothing would be right until he was beside her.
Bash's steps punched the ground, making it tremble and crumble under all those who dared approach him, until they were smart enough to run. He reached the two vampires surrounded by a storm, and took one more step. Finally, she was there. Bash wrapped his arms around her shoulder.
"Never again, you hear? Next time, I fucking come with you."
She let him hold her until the guy behind her cleared his throat.
"That's my sister. This is way too much physical contact for my taste."
"Shut it, Seth," Catherine said. "And in case you haven't noticed, we still have a problem here."
Beyond the brother's storm, the ancients were zeroing in. Levi, Luke, and Ruby were being kept busy by the hundreds of others crawling out of Bash's pit.
"I can take one Beaufort," Cat said. "Maybe. Or keep him busy, at least."
"Point me to whoever I should bash. Let's see if I can live up to my name."
"Wonderful, a savage. You have excellent taste, sister. Try to keep the thin one busy. He packs a punch. I have to take out Julia before she destroys your borders. If she does, your little haven is doomed."
Bash didn't doubt that. The shields around Oldcrest were the only reason why the queen and her ferals, and whoever else wanted to get rid of Chloe, hadn't managed to complete their task yet.
Bash nodded, turning to Catherine one last time.
"Stay by my side."
She smirked. "Well, someone ought to watch your six, I suppose."
Spells and Shields
Seth's storm cleared to allow them to pass, and Cat's heart beat at a thousand miles an hour, robbed of all safety. She'd learned how to fight. Her family had seen to that. But she'd always sparred. Facing someone actually intent on killing her was terrifying.
And she
lunged all the same.
Before Oldcrest, she wouldn't have. She would have yielded, bent her head, fallen in line. Because she was no one. A shell of a person, built by others, stripped of wants, desires, feelings. Now she had all of that in spades. It was hers, and she'd rather be killed today than return to the shadows.
The Beauforts were well known for their skills as fighters, but their family wasn't blessed with magic. As an average fighter with a little magic, she would have been well matched against a normal Beaufort. The ancient was well beyond her skills, but she rushed at Credence anyway. The asshole smirked, knowing she was outmatched. She was going to have to make it hurt. For as long as she could.
Cat feinted, pretending to aim for the head, but dropped to the ground at the last second, attempting to trip him. And he moved in time, drawing his feet back to kick her in the face.
She ducked her head just fast enough to avoid the hit, grabbed at his foot, and pulled.
It wasn't enough. Even on one foot, his balance was perfect. Damn him. This time, she knew she wouldn't avoid the kick as he dropped his heel down to her face.
Shit, it hurt.
She'd known worse, though. Cat bounced back to her feet and yelled, swinging her sword.
Credence stopped the blade with his arm, then drew back his fist to hit her. It stopped right before meeting her face, hitting an intangible wall.
Feeling energy passing right in front of her, she turned in that direction to see Blair on the other side of Bash's ravine, both hands extended toward her, holding on to an immaterial thread.
The rest of Oldcrest had come out of the barriers. The huntsmen were rushing down the ravine as the vamps, mostly managed by Seth right now, tried to reach them to help with the ancients. But the witches remained in line, right before the borders.
Cat knew enough of magic to realize that holding a powerful creature like Credence was unbelievably taxing. She wouldn't last long.
And she wasn't going to miss that chance. She plunged her sword right into Credence's heart.
It wasn't a fatal wound—not to any vampire, and certainly not to one as old as Credence—but he'd be out of commission for long enough.