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Ruined by Blood (The Vampires' Fae Book 3)

Page 17

by Sadie Moss


  Then a snarl like a feral mountain lion rose from Samira’s throat, and she sank her teeth into my neck. I gurgled a pained scream, phasing out even as her fangs gouged holes in my flesh. Before she could rip my throat out, I dissolved into smoke and rolled away. The vampire witch screamed in fury, whirling toward me, spittle and blood flying from her mouth.

  The glamoured versions of the brothers had disappeared. My control wasn’t good enough yet to maintain them without conscious effort. The remaining shades, summoned by their mistresses, launched an attack on Malcolm and Jerrett. Neoma raced toward Sol as he picked himself up from the floor by the wall.

  We’d stopped their plan. They couldn’t save their spell anymore, and they knew it.

  Now they just wanted vengeance.

  Samira turned away from me, launching herself into the fight.

  I stood in the middle of the ruined pentagram, watching the scene play out with a sinking feeling. The witch sisters would keep fighting forever. They would summon other armies, cast other spells. But they would never stop trying to destroy all vampires. Starting with the men I loved.

  No. I can’t let them do that.

  Still incorporeal, I tapped into my fae magic again, creating another glamour. But this time, I cast it on the sisters themselves. Drawing on my memory of the first time I’d seen them in a vision, I painted them as they had once been in my mind’s eye.

  The dark, bloodstained cloaks they wore faded from view, replaced by the pure white fabric of their holy robes. I erased the dark pits of their eyes, giving them shining gray irises. Their unnaturally taut skin softened, a rosy glow rising to their cheeks. Their light golden hair wound around their heads in beautiful, ornate styles.

  Samira snarled at Malcolm, but instead of fangs, all that showed was a row of even white teeth. Then her gaze caught on her sister, and the snarl died in her throat.

  She blinked.

  Neoma fought Sol, the hateful expression she wore looking out of place on her old face. When she noticed Samira had stopped fighting, she turned toward her sister and froze.

  Tension hung in the air like a thick fog as the sisters locked eyes.

  Jerrett rushed toward Samira, but I held up a hand.

  “No!” I hissed. “Wait!”

  The men could keep attacking the sisters until the walls of this place crumbled from age around us, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’d seen them survive injuries that would’ve killed other vampires. I’d seen them eat their own hearts to escape death.

  We needed to fight them another way.

  Jerrett’s blue gaze flashed toward me, confusion in his eyes. But he followed my directive, backing away from the vampire woman.

  Neither Neoma nor Samira seemed to notice. I wasn’t even sure they’d heard me speak. They stared at one another, walking slowly toward each other until they met on one side of the pentagram. The torchlight flickering from the walls illuminated their pale, beautiful faces, almost seeming to make them glow.

  Steeling myself, I walked forward, stepping between them in my incorporeal form. Reaching out, I slipped a hand into each of their chests. My fingers passed right through their physical forms, but I swore I could feel the empty spaces where their hearts should be.

  A sudden vision hit me, but I didn’t leave my body. Instead, the vision seemed to flow into me through my connection to the sisters, playing out in my mind’s eye even as I remained focused on the room around us.

  Bright white light flashed in my vision. When it faded, I saw the stake the sisters had been tied to when their fellow vampires condemned them to death. Two small figures, hunched and misshapen, crawled away from the stake. The sisters. Whatever spell they’d cast had saved them from the sun, but it hadn’t saved them completely.

  Their bodies had been almost completely destroyed. The two pitiful creatures found a cave and buried themselves in the earth, going dormant for thousands of years while their strength returned. I saw the landscape change around them. And finally, I saw them emerge, tearing their way out from the layers of rock they’d been trapped under. They had healed, but their appearance had shifted, their skin stretched too-tight, their eyes like black pits.

  I saw their hunt for Ranolf, the man who had captured them. They searched for him for years, working in concert like they always did.

  When they finally found him, the lanky, brown-haired vampire had all but forgotten them. He hissed, baring his blunted fangs. Then his eyes widened with shock as he slowly pieced together the memory of the women he had enslaved.

  They waited. They waited until they were sure he remembered. And then they killed him.

  Their old master fought, but the witches were too strong by now, their wrath too great. Blood flew through the air in great arcs as they attacked him, and when they were through, there wasn’t a single recognizable body part left.

  In my vision, Samira looked up at her twin, her pale face painted red with blood.

  “Not enough,” she whispered, her voice both hate-filled and broken.

  Neoma shook her head. “Not enough. Never enough.”

  I watched both of their faces harden, the once sweet features contorting with a soul-deep rage.

  Then the vision faded, and all I could see was the darkness of the cave. Shouts sounded near the entryway as the brothers held off the remaining shades, keeping them distracted.

  I blinked, a profound sadness filling me. “I get it.”

  At the sound of my voice, Samira jerked slightly. But neither she nor her sister broke their gaze, still staring at each other. It was like they were hypnotized by the sight of their past selves.

  Keeping my incorporeal hands inside their chests, I imagined every bit of light, peace, and goodness inside myself pouring into them.

  “It wasn’t enough,” I whispered, tears tracking down my cheeks. “Of course it wasn’t. It could never be enough to sate your rage. Killing him didn’t make you feel better, did it? It wasn’t enough?”

  Neoma shook her head, a dazed look on her face.

  “So you decided to kill all vampires. Everyone who betrayed you.” I drew a deep breath. “But how do you know that will make the pain stop? You can keep feeding your anger, but it’ll never die that way. You were right. It will never be enough.”

  Samira let out a low sob, and the sound twisted in my heart like a knife.

  These women hadn’t deserved their fate. They were mistreated by their captor and betrayed by the vampires who should’ve been their rescuers. But in their quest for justice, for vengeance, they had become something even worse.

  And that wasn’t what they’d ever really wanted. In life, they had been witches of light and healing. They had wanted a happy existence and a peaceful death. I couldn’t give them the first; it was far too late for that. But I could finally, after thousands of years, give them the second.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told them, my words burning with truth. “I’m so sorry for you both. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. But it’s okay. You don’t have to keep fighting. Others will pick up the mantle. We’ll make things better, I promise. You can have peace.”

  Neoma reached out toward her sister, and their palms met. I was caged between them, as if the three of us were some sort of strange statue.

  Light shone from the place where their hands were connected. It grew so bright I couldn’t look directly at it, and I felt the warmth of it like the sun on a hot summer day.

  “Peace.” Their voices twined together in the air, melodious and harmonic. “Rest.”

  I nodded, peering through the radiant light to see their faces. Beautiful and serene as they had once been. “Yes. You can let go now. It’s okay.”

  A breeze swirled around us like a soft sigh, and then the light enveloped them completely.

  Neoma and Samira burst into dust.

  27

  Jerrett

  “Holy donkey-fucking shitballs.”

  That was about all I could think to say as the cloud of white du
st that had once been two insanely powerful vampire witches drifted away into nothing. The light that’d flooded through the room faded, plunging us back into semi-darkness.

  Willow solidified, her hands still held out to either side of her.

  She blinked up at me, tear tracks cutting down her cheeks, which were dirty from the fight. Her expression was sad, but relief and triumph reflected in her eyes.

  “Are they gone? Truly?” Sol cocked his head like he was listening for any sign of the witches’ return.

  The shades that’d been attacking me and my brothers like good little undead guard dogs had collapsed as soon as the witches disappeared, their bodies shriveling back into bony gray corpses. That, more than anything else, convinced me the weird sisters were definitely gone. When they’d winked out of existence, their spell on the resurrected fae had died too.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I muttered, stepping across the ruined pentagram.

  I kicked one of the remaining Stones of Power, sending it flying across the room where it shattered against the wall. Sol had already broken one, but what the hell, right? No harm in destroying all of them. I didn’t want even the vague possibility of a repeat of this fiasco anytime soon.

  “They are. I can feel it.” Willow stepped toward me, her knees wobbling.

  Catching her around the waist, I pressed her body against mine. Her hair had come loose from the ponytail she’d secured it in—it never seemed to want to stay put—and I brushed a strand of it behind her ear.

  “Damn, Will. I’ve never seen anything like that. What’d you do?”

  “I…” She shook her head, looking a little dazed. “I didn’t do anything. They did it. I just offered them the possibility of peace. They took it.”

  Mal stepped forward to crush the remaining stones beneath the heel of his boot. “What do you mean?”

  “I showed them what they used to be, before all of this. Before anger and pain and hate twisted their souls. The dark magician’s spell made them truly immortal, but I think it was powered by their will to stay alive. By their unrelenting drive for vengeance. When they let go of that, they were free to die.” She swallowed. “Which I think is what they really wanted. All this? Everything they did? They were just trying to find peace.”

  Another tear leaked from her eye, clearing a new path down her cheek. I wiped it away, smearing the dirt away with it.

  “I’ve never known anybody like you, Will,” I murmured. “No one as fierce, or as sweet, or as motherfucking beautiful as you.”

  Cupping her face, I kissed her, and she clung to me like she might not be able to live if I let her go.

  Shit, I could relate to that.

  Mal and Sol walked over as we broke away from each other, and Mal pulled Willow into his arms. He did his usual “checking her for injuries” move, which I was pretty sure was just an excuse to feel her up a little bit. Still, I was relieved when his search didn’t turn up anything but scrapes and bumps, most of which had already healed.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, glancing around at the bodies that littered the floor and the bones lining the walls. “We’re done here.”

  “Thank Fate for that.” Sol grimaced.

  “I can’t believe it’s over,” Will whispered as we made our way toward the corridor. “No more shade attacks. No more glowing runes trying to control me. No more innocent supernaturals being used as batteries to fuel the undead.”

  She looked a little dazed, like she expected to wake up from this dream any second. It made sense. Her entire existence as a vampire so far had been focused almost entirely on dealing with the sisters’ threat. Hell, the only reason she’d been turned at all was because one of the witches’ shades had left her so close to death we had no other option.

  I inhaled the sweet scent that was uniquely her. Even in this underground lair that stank of death and decay, Willow was like a breath of fresh air.

  The weird sisters had been responsible for a hell of a lot of bad shit. But their actions had also brought this beautiful, strong woman into our lives, and I could never be sorry for that.

  Sol led the way up the stairs. Inside the tomb at the top, silvery moonlight pouring through the hole in the wall made the fae look like ghosts.

  Nahini glanced up as we entered. “Is it done?”

  I liked that she didn’t waste time with unimportant questions. This woman got right to the fucking point.

  “Yes.” Willow nodded, stepping forward. “The sisters are dead.”

  “Good.”

  I glanced around at the shriveled gray bodies littering the floor. “Let me guess—they all collapsed a little while ago?”

  “The ones we hadn’t already killed, yes.” The fae woman’s silver eyes burned in the darkness. “There weren’t many left.”

  Yup. I definitely liked this woman.

  “And your people? Are any…?” Willow’s brow creased as she peered at the bodies scattered around the large space.

  “We lost two.” Nahini set her jaw. “We’ll bring them back to our realm where they can be given proper death rites.”

  “I’m sorry, Nahini,” Willow said softly.

  The fae warrior shook her head. “It’s the way of the world. Our people are used to death. It keeps us company like an old friend.”

  “Your help tonight won’t be forgotten,” Mal assured her.

  Nahini didn’t seem much interested in praise or platitudes. She just grunted a response before leading us outside. In the chilly pre-dawn air, she summoned a shimmering portal in the air.

  “I’ll send you wherever you want to go before I bring my people home.” She threw a sharp look our way. “Do not return to the fae land. Just because you’ve been there once doesn’t mean you’ll be welcomed again.” Her gaze flicked to Will, who was sandwiched between Sol and me. “Except you, half-blood. You may come.”

  Willow dipped her head, acknowledging that as the gracious invitation it was. Honestly, I’d half expected the fae warriors to turn on us as soon as the sisters were defeated.

  “Thank you.” Mal extended a hand, and after a slightly-too-long beat, Nahini took it. “We are in your debt for the risk you took to help us.”

  Her intelligent eyes sparked as she cocked her head at him. “Tell the vampire king that. He’d be a fool to let the fae die out entirely. The world needs us. It needs our magic.”

  My gaze shot to Willow. Mal and Sol turned toward her too.

  “Believe me”—Mal’s voice was low and serious—“I have no intention of ever letting the fae die out.”

  Nahini’s brow wrinkled. She seemed a little baffled by the connection that existed between the three of us and Willow. But I didn’t give a fuck. I liked the fae woman, but I didn’t need her understanding or approval when it came to loving Will.

  The portal glowed with white light, and Nahini ran a hand over it. “Where do you want me to send you?”

  “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Back to New York?” Willow asked, looking to all of us for confirmation.

  “No.” Mal straightened, squaring his shoulders. “The Penumbra. There’s something I need to do.”

  28

  Malcolm

  The fae woman nodded solemnly. She passed her hands over the portal, making the glowing white curtain of magic ripple. Then she stepped back, gesturing for us to step through.

  With a look back at my brothers and Willow, I passed through the veil. The portal sucked me in and spit me out in the forest of the Penumbra. The sun burned low on the eastern horizon, but its rays couldn’t harm us here. I lifted my face toward the dulled sunbeams, breathing in the fresh air. This place truly was beautiful, although it had become hard for me to see that beauty through the haze of painful memories of my time here.

  Sol, Jerrett, and Willow stepped through the portal behind me, and the shimmering veil disappeared. The wildcat seemed to be recovering from the fight, her hazel eyes lighting with hope as she realized we truly had stopped the witches. She gazed around at the fo
rest as if it were the first time she’d ever truly seen this place.

  “Why did you have Nahini send us here? I thought we’d go back to your place in New York.”

  “Our place. And we will, eventually. But there’s something I have to do here first,” I said. “Something I should’ve done many years ago.”

  Jerrett and Sol both turned to me. Sol’s face softened with pity and understanding, but Jerrett’s expression was fierce.

  “About fucking time,” my oldest brother growled.

  “We have your back, brother. Always,” Sol added.

  We started through the woods toward the castle. Willow walked quickly, coming abreast of me and peering up at my face. “What are they talking about? What do you need to do?”

  I didn’t answer. I just reached out and took her hand, interlacing her small fingers with mine. Truly, I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be if I told her what I planned. But I needed to do this; Willow herself had showed me that, whether she knew it or not.

  When we reached the castle’s entrance, the guards looked up in surprise at our approach. One abandoned his post and darted into the castle, no doubt to tell Carrick we were coming.

  By the time we reached the throne room, the entire castle seemed to have been alerted to our return. Whispers trailed after us in the corridors, and several vampires dipped their heads in respect as we walked by. Good. Perhaps word of our fight against the witches had spread through the Penumbra in our absence.

  My father looked from his seat on the throne as I threw the throne room doors open.

  His eyes widened in feigned surprise. “Malcolm! I’m delighted to see you’ve returned. Now that the threat from the shades is over—”

  “It is over.” I cut him off with a sweeping gesture, striding toward the dais. “No thanks to you.”

  His dark eyes hardened, but he kept his tone even. “I have been protecting my people. Keeping them safe—”

  “No, you’ve been hiding. Using your people as a shield to keep yourself safe from any outside threat. It ends now.”

 

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