by N M Thorn
She winked at him and got up. Leaning down slightly, she cupped his cheek. He held his breath and stiffened to stop himself from shying away from her touch.
“If you trust me, I’ll find out who’s messing with your dreams—,” she offered, but cut herself off, and a dark shadow crossed her face. She straightened, listening to something intently.
“What is it?” he asked, looking around, but everything remained the same.
Her gaze focused on him, and she frowned. “It’s time for you to wake up, Damian,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “As I mentioned before, this night isn’t over for you.”
“Mara—,” he started, but she wasn’t listening.
“Goodbye for now.”
She touched his forehead with two fingers, and the world around him spun in a whirlpool of colors. He screamed and woke up, lying on the cold sand of the midnight desert.
“Dima, I need you…” Cole’s voice sounded shaky and weak in Damian’s frazzled mind, and a wave of fear surged through their blood bond. “I’m in serious trouble, brother.”
Chapter 6
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian jolted to his feet, and the world around him swirled and tilted, making his stomach heave. He dropped to all fours, realizing belatedly that after all the events of this day and the double healing he had performed in a matter of a few hours, he was too weak and too drained to do anything except for returning to Paradise Manor and dropping on his bed, dead to the world.
“Dima…” Cole’s voice sounded in Damian’s mind again, and a wave of despair and fear rushed through their connection, taking his breath away. “Brother… I hope you’re okay…”
“Nikolai, I hear you,” he replied, his chest shuddering with laborious breaths. “Where are you? What’s going on?”
“Luciano’s estate. Council room.” A surge of hope flooded their psychic link. “Can you come here? I’m alone now, but I can’t…”
His brother’s voice faded for a moment shorter than a heartbeat, but to Damian, this fleeting pause was longer than forever.
“Cole—”
“Dima, I can’t move on my own. I’ve been poisoned,” continued Cole. “I need your help.”
“On my way,” replied Damian, cutting their line of communication to make sure Cole couldn’t perceive how he felt at the moment.
Still on all fours, he dropped his head and took a few deep breaths, trying to pull himself together. With a strenuous groan, he forced himself to his feet and swayed a little as the desert spun around him again. He closed his eyes, cold sweat dripping down his back, and channeled his magic. Then he snapped his fingers and teleported, praying to all the gods he knew that he had enough strength and magical energy to help his brother.
Damian materialized in front of the entrance door into Luciano’s mansion and reached out to his brother but received no answer. A wave of pain, raw and all-consuming, assailed him through their connection, and the blood froze in his veins, his heart beating somewhere in his throat.
He didn’t remember running through the dark, empty hallways, focusing only on the weak connection with his brother, and when he finally reached the main hall, sweat was running down his face, plastering long, uneven strands of his hair to his face. He kicked the door open and stopped dead, observing the room, every little detail telling him the story of the battle that had unfolded here just a few minutes ago.
All windows were broken, and slivers of glass covered the floor. A dead woman in a black uniform lay sprawled on the tiles, her eyes with dilated pupils staring at the ceiling. Cole sat by the wall in a pool of his own blood, his hands clasped over the bleeding wounds on his stomach. His head was bowed to his chest, and gray shadows lay under his eyes and cheekbones, making him look older and tired. Dark blood was seeping slowly from another wound on his side, trickling from under his arm.
Damian crossed the distance between them in a few strides and dropped to his knees next to him, realizing with horror that he barely had enough strength to keep an upright position, let alone teleport with a passenger.
“Nikolai,” he whispered, brushing his brother’s blood-soaked hair off his face. “Open your eyes…”
Cole cracked his eyelids open, his eyes resembling a black void filled with torment, and the corners of his mouth quirked up in a pained grimace. His lips parted as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t say a word, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
“The Sisterhood of the Sun is after me…” he projected, his voice sounding weak and unsteady even through their blood bond. “Their blades are poisoned… they lied, they said they weren’t after me, but…”
Damian turned around and glanced at the dead woman, his eyes halting on the tattoo on her wrist, his heart thundering in his chest.
“Cole, hang in there, brother. I’ll get you help. We’ll figure it out,” he said, turning to him. “It’s probably going to hurt. Sorry about that.”
As gently as possible, he lifted his brother into his arms but remained in a kneeling position for a few seconds to give himself a chance to deal with the weakness. Cole cried out, and his arms dropped powerlessly, exposing two deep cuts on his stomach. With a low growl, Damian rose to his feet and leaned his back against the wall, taking short breaths as his vision went out of focus.
“Dima… you’re drained… you can’t teleport,” Cole projected. “That’s okay. Let’s come up with a different plan.”
“No,” Damian exhaled and pushed away from the wall. “I can do it.”
He opened himself to the flow of magic and elemental power, hoping to gather enough for one more jump. He didn’t have enough strength to channel magical energy from the outside, and his internal resources were almost depleted. He knew it, but he refused to think about it.
Perun almighty, give me the strength… just one more time… It’s my little brother. Take my life if you must, but let me save him…
Tapping into whatever was left of his internal energy, he snapped his fingers. The dark room twirled around him, making wild somersaults. Nausea rose to his throat, and his stomach clenched. As his vision blurred, he pressed Cole to his chest, focusing on keeping his arms locked.
He materialized in front of the entrance to Paradise Manor, but the ground slipped from under his feet, and he fell, hitting his head on the marble steps.
Damian regained consciousness and attempted to lift his head, but as a splitting headache responded to his move, he moaned and dropped back. Turning to the side, he saw his brother, and his heart gave a painful jolt. Cole appeared to be unconscious. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked like a boy who fell asleep, ready to wake up at any moment. The bleeding had stopped, but Damian wasn’t sure if it was good news or bad.
With sheer effort of will, Damian turned to his stomach and pushed himself to all fours. After a few breaths, he scrambled to his feet and made his way to the door. He rang the doorbell and leaned against the wall by the entrance, counting his heartbeats as he waited for River to open it. When the lock finally clicked, he pushed away from the wall, meeting River’s flabbergasted stare.
“Dima, what happened?” she whispered, an expression of horror imprinted on her face.
“I’ll explain later. Help me bring Cole inside.” Damian headed toward his brother, every move taking serious effort.
With River’s help, he lifted Cole again and opened his mind to their blood bond, but no matter how hard he tried, Cole wasn’t responding, a giant empty hole remaining in the place where he used to feel his brother’s presence. Damian crossed into the house and headed toward the right wing, barely able to move his feet. He reached only as far as the end of the foyer and stopped, his legs trembling with strain.
Lowering Cole to the floor by the wall, he dropped to his knees next to him and raised his eyes at River, guilt shredding his insides.
“This is as far as I can manage,” he said, his every muscle buzzing with exhaustion. “Cole has been poisoned, and I’m too drained to do anything
.” He reached for his magic but found none, his body refusing to function properly. “Dammit…” He slammed his hand against the hard tiles, shaking his head. “I need to summon Luc de la Crosse, but I can’t perform even the tiniest spell.”
“Luc de la Crosse?” River muttered, reaching into her pocket. “I can summon him.”
Damian glanced up at her and smiled faintly. “You can’t. To perform a summoning spell, you need to use magical energy. You’re human, River. You have no magic.”
“Oh, yeah?” She cocked her eyebrow. “Watch me. I’m going to use a very complicated and obscure branch of magic. It’s called dialing a goddamn phone number.” She showed him her cellphone, pursing her lips reproachfully. “Doofus. If you would learn how to use your cellphone, maybe I’d sleep better at night.”
“But how—”
“Cole gave me a few phone numbers in case of emergency,” she murmured, searching through her contact list. “Luckily, he is not as archaic as you are and doesn’t count on magic to do basic things in life, like getting in touch with people he needs.”
She dialed a phone number and pressed the device to her ear. Even though she didn’t put the phone on speaker, Damian could hear the beeps and then a raspy male voice as Luc answered the call.
“Mr. Luc de la Crosse?” asked River, her voice strong and calm. “This is detective River Evans. I’m sorry for the late-night call, but I need your help, sir. I’m going to put Damian Blake on the phone, so he can brief you in.”
She passed her cellphone to Damian, and he took it, barely able to wrap his fingers around the device. “Luc,” he said, cringing inwardly at how empty his voice sounded. “Cole has been poisoned by the Sisterhood slayers. I’m too drained to do anything to help him.” Trying to be as brief as possible, he told the Master Warden everything that had happened earlier today and everything that Cole had told him.
“Are you sure those were the Sisterhood slayers?” Luc asked, doubt clear in his voice. “The Sisterhood reports to the Destiny Council. Cole couldn’t be on their list, mon ami. Something doesn’t sound right.”
“I don’t know, Luc. I saw their mark on the wrist of the dead slayer.” Damian threw a desperate look at his brother, his chest tight with the expectation of a brewing supernatural storm. “I’m going to find out the first chance I get. In the meantime, can you do anything to help Cole?”
“I assume you’re at Paradise Manor,” said the Warden.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be with you in ten minutes. I need to get the antidote for Cole.”
As the Master Warden hung up, Damian gave River her phone back and leaned forward, resting his elbow atop his bent knees. Ten minutes wasn’t a long time, but in the current situation, it was ten minutes too long. He took Cole’s hand, slightly squeezing it, but Cole didn’t respond.
“He’ll be all right. A while ago, he told me that as long as he’s not a pile of ash, he can recover from any injury,” said River.
Damian snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds like Cole. Only he can say something like this while keeping a straight face.”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” She sat down next to Damian, resting her back against the wall, and tapped her lap. “Lay down, Dima. You look like you’re going to drop dead if you have to remain in the upright position for another minute.”
He averted his eyes, staring to the side at the old silver mirror. She chuckled and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. Feeling too tired to resist, he lay down on the cold concrete floor, placing his head on River’s lap, and closed his eyes.
“Why don’t you get a few minutes of sleep while we’re waiting for Luc?” she suggested, her fingers threading through his hair in slow, even strokes.
“I’ll wait,” he mumbled, folding his hands over his stomach. “I’m afraid if I fall asleep in my condition, you won’t be able to wake me up.” He glanced up at her, meeting her warm, blue eyes. “Tell me something… anything to keep me awake. What happened in that house after I called you?”
“We found three victims on the second floor, but unfortunately, we discovered nothing about the perp. No prints, no DNA, nothing. We have zero leads,” she said, the movements of her hand slowing down. “The women were alive, but they suffered severe blood loss and appeared to be under the influence of some kind of substance. We’re waiting for a report from the hospital, and hopefully, the doctors will be able to identify what drug they were on.”
“It’s not a drug,” objected Damian faintly. “They were addicted to a vampire’s bite.”
“That would also explain the blood loss,” murmured River, resuming her even strokes through his hair.
“River, you were right,” he said, catching her hand and pressing it to his cheek. “It is a supernatural case.” Damian sighed, his thoughts traveling back to his conversation with Zabava. “Even though I still don’t know who is behind these abductions, I have no doubt this person is extremely powerful and dangerous. It’s not easy to abduct a witch in the first place, but to drain her of her magical energy is next to impossible. Trust me, not everyone can perform this kind of dark magic.” He glanced up, meeting River’s troubled gaze. “Please, do whatever you have to do to give me enough time for my investigation. If local human authorities get involved deeper before I find this person…”
He let go of her hand, and his arm dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
“I’ll do what I can, Dima,” she replied, gently caressing his cheek, “but I can’t promise anything. I can’t stand in the way of an active investigation.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes, exhaling with a low groan. “Where is Gypsy, by the way? I’m surprised she’s not here to make fun of me while I’m down.”
River giggled, sounding like a little girl. “I still can’t get used to the fact that you can talk to animals. Don’t worry, she’s sleeping in your bedroom. She’ll get her chance to poke her feline jokes at you.”
Detecting a slight fluctuation of magical energy field outside the house, Damian raised his head. “River, Luc is here. Open the door for him, please.”
As River rose to her feet and headed toward the entrance, Damian forced himself into a sitting position, moving closer to Cole. Luc, dressed in his usual black pants and shirt of a priest, stepped into the foyer, and his jaw dropped. Getting in control of his initial reaction, the Master Warden made his way to Cole and lowered to his knees, placing a black backpack on the floor by his side.
“I thought it was bad, but I didn’t realize how truly bad it was,” he murmured, mostly to himself.
He opened the bag and pulled out a small plastic bag with a few paper strips inside. Muttering something under his breath, he quickly explored the opened wounds on Cole’s stomach and side. Then he took one of the strips and dipped it into the vampire’s blood. As the strip turned blue, the Warden exhaled, frowning, and put the used strip in a separate plastic bag.
Throwing a quick glance at Damian, he said, “You were right. The poison belongs to the Sisterhood. They developed it a while ago, and it’s available only to the members of their organization. It’s not supposed to kill vampires but put them out of commission for a few hours. As you can see, it’s quite effective.” He grabbed his backpack and produced a small, clear vial with a thick, shimmering liquid inside. “Luckily, it’s not deadly, and I do have an antidote that can counter its effects right away.”
He uncorked the vial and lifted Cole’s head slightly, shifting to find a better position. Then he looked back at River, a vibe of doubt lingering over him.
“River, you may want to leave this room or at least turn away,” he said. “It’s not going to be pretty.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” River folded her arms, planting her feet firmly on the floor. “I’m not a delicate flower, and Cole is… like a brother to me. He’s family.”
“As you wish, my lady,” Luc murmured, returning to the task at hand.
He rested Cole’s head on his lap and forced his jaws
apart. Pressing the vial to his lips, he let a few drops of the liquid slip into his mouth. The Adam's apple in Cole’s neck moved as he swallowed the antidote. At first, nothing happened. Then suddenly, Cole’s eyes flew wide open, shining with a bright scarlet glow. His every muscle tensed, and his body arched, his hands locking and unlocking spasmodically at his sides. His fingers elongated and turned into claws, leaving long scratches on the polished surface of the floor. As his terrifying fangs expanded, a blood-curdling howl of unbearable torment erupted from his lips.
River gasped and pressed both hands to her mouth, a horrified expression on her face. Damian reached for his brother, but Luc intercepted him.
“Stand back, Commander,” he shouted, struggling to hold the vampire in place. “I swear he’s going to be all right.”
It was over as fast as it started. Cole stopped screaming, and his body relaxed, falling to the floor limply. His eyes moved to Damian, and as he looked at his brother, the scarlet glow vanished, replaced by his natural deep blue. But as his gaze shifted to River, his lips parted, and his eyes widened. He pressed his hand to his mouth to cover his fangs just to realize that his fingers were still elongated into claws. His face turned even paler, his skin looking almost translucent, and with a soft moan, he closed his eyes and turned away.
Luc de la Crosse gently moved Cole from his lap and quickly gathered all his plastic bags, placing everything in his backpack. Then he rose to his feet and pulled a few medical blood bags, offering them to Damian.
“Commander, your brother will need some blood, and you’re not in any condition to donate,” he said calmly. Damian took the bags, placing them on the floor next to Cole, and Luc continued, “I can see how drained you are, Damian. Please, get some rest tonight, but as soon as you wake up, call me. I believe we have a serious problem, and I must know everything there is to know.”