Colin the Conqueror

by Rhiannon Neeley

  Casey slid onto a stool across the workbench from Lydia. “What are you doing?” she asked, watching as Lydia inserted a syringe into one of the capped vials and pulled back on the plunger, filling it.

  “I’m making up the last of the serum,” she said, her eyes locked onto the syringe. “I want to be prepared. Just in case.” She flicked a glance toward Casey.

  Casey felt a slight shiver pass through her. She knew exactly what Lydia’s ‘in case’ meant. She said a silent prayer for Dirk’s safety, then added another for Eric.

  Lydia carefully put a sheath over the needle of the syringe and laid it on the counter in front of her. She immediately began filling another. “So … how is your research going?”

  “Fairly well, actually,” Casey said. “I believe I’ve pinpointed the original Raven girl who was attacked by the vampire. Her name was Larissa.”

  Lydia glanced at her. “Pretty name. If she is the one, then this war started because of her.”

  “Yes. From what I gather, she was somewhere between eighteen and nineteen years old. In the cemetery records in Germany, it’s noted on her headstone that she was ‘forced to sleep’. It was right after her death that the name Nicolas Reicher began appearing in the wills and things. I take it that Nicolas Reicher was the vampire that turned Larissa.”

  Lydia frowned. “And they never tracked him down?”

  Casey shook her head. “I haven’t found any reference to it. I want to talk to John about it. His and Dirk and Eric’s father’s will was the first to omit the instruction about the search for Nicolas.”

  “Then you should ask him,” Lydia said. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “There’s another person who may know more about it than John.”

  Casey frowned. Her mind was a little fuzzy from so much time in front of the computer. “Who?”

  “Lark.” Lydia smiled.

  “Of course,” Casey said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Surely Lark would know more than John, Eric or Dirk.”

  Lydia filled another syringe. “She should. After all, she is their mother.”

  * * * *

  Lark Raven stared into the darkness of her room. Something had awakened her. Still, she didn’t rise, didn’t turn on the light beside her bed. She had the chilling feeling that something was about to happen.

  Something not good.

  There came the sound of the latch releasing at her door. Slowly the door swung open.

  Lark’s heart stuttered for a moment before she grit her teeth and glared at the dark figure silhouetted in the doorway. “What do you want?” she spat, knowing already that any show of bravado coming from a woman as ancient as she would be useless, but not able to keep the venom from her voice.

  “You, my dear,” a deep, smooth voice answered. “I want you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Heather was happily exhausted. She lay against Colin, not remembering how they had ended up on the bed. It didn’t matter. She had been in a state of pure ecstasy ever since he had first knelt down in front of her when she had been sitting in the chair.

  “Are you alright?” Colin asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

  Heather couldn’t help but giggle. “I have never been more alright in my life. I am thirsty though.”

  “Slip something on and we’ll go see what we can find in the kitchen. I’m a bit hungry myself. It takes all of my energy to keep up with a young thing such as you.”

  “Knock it off about the age thing,” Heather scolded as she slid out of bed. She padded toward the bathroom. “I’ve told you before—our age difference doesn’t amount to anything these days.”

  She entered the bathroom to the sound of Colin groaning as he rose from the bed. “Poor baby,” she said softly to herself as she took care of one of her basic needs. She washed up quickly, feeling a definite ache in certain overstrained areas of her own body then snatched Colin’s robe from a hook on the back of the door and wrapped it around her.

  When she returned to the bedroom, she found Colin dressed in lounge pants and nothing else. “You look good enough to eat,” she said, crossing the room to him. She rose up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his mouth.

  “So do you,” he said smiling, “but I’m afraid that if I don’t get something into my body that has the substance of food, I may not be able to perform for the rest of the week.”

  Heather took him by the arm and led him toward the door. “We can’t have that. We have so much wasted time to make up for.”

  “I wouldn’t describe our time together in the beginning when we were just talking as ‘wasted’,” Colin said, stopping her at the door. “I really enjoyed that time together.”

  Heather felt a slight twinge of guilt. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I mean, if we wouldn’t have gotten close before we … got really close, I don’t think it would be as earth shattering when we … come together.” She flapped her hand in the air. “Oh good grief, I’m blubbering on.”

  Colin laughed. “It’s okay. I know what you mean.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “I love you. Even when you blubber.”

  Heather’s heart swelled with emotion. It was as if they were meant to be together. If she had to do it all over again—go through being on the yacht Bloody Hell and submitting to the vampires like she did just so that Colin would arrive to save her—she would. “Colin, I…”

  A loud buzzing cut off her words.

  Heather’s heart leapt in her chest. The sound reverberated throughout their quarters.

  Colin came instantly alert. “Stay here,” he ordered, opening the door. He stepped through then hesitated. “Lock the door behind me.”

  “Colin—what’s going on?”

  “Just do as I say.” Then he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

  Her hand shook as she reached out and pushed in the lock at the center of the doorknob. The buzzer continued to sound, assaulting her ears.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.

  For the first time since arriving at Ravencrest, Heather felt fear.

  “Be careful, Colin” she whispered. “Whatever it is, it sounds bad. I can’t lose you now.”

  * * * *

  Colin met Rogue in the living room. “What the hell is going on?” he asked as they both headed for the door.

  “I don’t know,” Rogue said, “but I would lay money that it has to do with Ramsey.”

  “There was no alarm like this when he escaped,” Colin said as they rushed down the hall in the direction of John’s office. Colin figured it was the place to go since all of their meetings were conducted there.

  “Maybe he’s done something worse this time.”

  Colin glanced at Rogue. “Kaitlyn?”

  “Locked in the bedroom.”

  “Heather, too.”

  “Dammit,” Rogue said, drawing his hands into fists. “We were just talking about maybe adopting a baby, then this. If I get my hands on him, I’ll…” He cut his words short.

  Colin hadn’t seen Rogue this angry before.

  They turned into the main section of the house and came together with Drake and Holt. Colin noted the axe in Holt’s meaty hand. Both of the Ravens wore intense expressions.

  “Any word?” Drake asked, not stopping.

  Colin shook his head as he and Rogue fell in step behind Drake and Holt as they entered the hall that led to John’s wing. “Nothing. We just came.”

  Colin knew it was serious as soon as Drake and Holt stepped into the office because Holt’s axe immediately came up ready to strike. Holt and Drake both stepped forward. Colin and Rogue stepped in and separated, flanking them.

  John stood behind his desk, his face a mask of pure hatred. “Stop,” he said, speaking to the four of them even though his eyes never left the figure that sat in the chair facing his desk.

  Colin felt adrenaline surge through him, washing away his fatigue. He eyed the back of the person who sat in the
chair. Jet-black hair and wide shoulders—obviously a man.

  “It seems that our security is lacking,” John said through clenched teeth. “We have an unwelcome visitor.”

  “John,” a feathery voice said. “Don’t bait him.”

  Colin’s breath froze in his lungs. That voice was Lark Raven’s—John’s mother—and it came from the vicinity of the chair the intruder occupied.

  “Perhaps I should introduce myself,” the man said. His voice was a deep baritone but it somehow sounded hollow to Colin, as if it was issued from a deep, dark crypt.

  “Excuse me, my dear, while I rise,” the man said. He unfolded from the chair and turned around.

  “You son of a…” Drake said, stepping forward.

  Colin grasped his arm, holding him in check.

  The man only smiled and gently lowered Lark from his arms into the chair. “Are you alarmed that Ms. Raven was sitting on my lap?” He made a ‘tsking’ sound. “I’m sure that you’ll agree even at her advanced age, she still claims a respectable beauty.” He reached a hand toward the chair as if to touch her.

  John roared with rage and vaulted over the desk, landing on the man’s back. He was immediately flung off onto the floor as if the man were flicking a fly from his shoulder.

  “John!” Lark called out.

  John hit hard, but rolled easily and was on his feet in seconds.

  “I suggest if any of the rest of you are entertaining ideas of attacking me, it will do you no good. I am more powerful than any vampire you have ever come up against. I guarantee that you will lose this battle.”

  Holt jerked.

  The vampire raised a finger. “Ah, ah!” With his other hand, he drew Lark out of the chair, placing her in front of him, his hand clasped around her thin neck. “Do you want to see how easy it is to snap a Lark’s neck?”

  Colin couldn’t take much more of this toying with Lark. He loved Lark but not being of her blood, he could distance himself enough from his emotions to try to make some sense out of the situation. “Why don’t you cut to the chase and tell us who you are and what it is that you want?” he asked, wishing he were dressed in something other than a pair of lounge pants and nothing else. Colin knew he did not make an imposing impression in his present state.

  The vampire’s eyes focused on him. Colin was struck by the evil he saw there. The hatred. If there was any way to describe the color of his eyes, it was icy black.

  “You,” the vampire said, his mouth curled into a snarl. “I recognize you.”

  Colin was taken aback. He started to ask when they had met but the vampire began to speak.

  “I am known as Nicolas,” he said, drawing Lark so close that she was forced to lean against him. Colin saw clear distaste on her face but her chin was still held high in defiance of the vampire’s grasp. “I have come to put an end to this war between the Ravens and my kind,” Nicolas continued.

  “How do you propose to do that?” Colin asked before any of the others could speak.

  “All will be revealed soon enough. There is much of the night left before us.”

  “Do you think we’re going to just let you waltz in here and threaten our mother?” John asked. “It’s five to one. You won’t leave here before dawn.”

  Nicolas laughed. “Thank you for extending such an invitation to spend the rest of the evening with you.”

  “What do you want?” Colin asked.

  Nicolas swung his gaze back to him. “In time.” He turned back to John. “I believe that you are the leader of this motley crew. Gather the occupants of the house together and we shall meet in what I saw as the main living room.” He began to move toward the door.

  Colin, Drake, Holt and Rogue formed a blockade against his leaving.

  “What do you mean ‘the occupants’?” John asked. “We’re all here.”

  “Do not think me an imbecile.” His eyes narrowed. “I find it surprising that you’ve managed to keep yourselves alive as long as you have considering that you’ve underestimated your adversary this early in the battle. Gather your women, Raven. I know they are here.”

  He moved toward the door another step, then stopped when the wall of men didn’t move. Colin tensed, unsure what would happen next. The very air in the room snapped with the electricity of their tension.

  Nicolas cocked his head, waiting.

  “Boys,” Lark said, her voice strained and tired. “Let him through.”

  After a moment, the men parted, allowing Nicolas access to the door. “Smart move,” he quipped, walking through them with Lark as his hostage.

  Colin desperately wanted to reach out and grab the aged woman from the vampire’s grip but the thought of her frail neck snapping held him at bay, as he was sure it did the others.

  Nicolas exited the room, but then hesitated in the hall before moving away.

  “Now what?” Rogue asked.

  Nicolas put a finger to his lips, ignoring Rogue and focusing on John. “The one with the child…”

  John’s face grew dark. “What of her?”

  Nicolas smiled a slight smile. “She need not be present for our council. Nor the child.” Then he turned and began walking stately down the hall, his hand cupping the back of Lark’s neck as she walked beside him.

  Colin turned to John. “What was that about, not including Madison and Skylar?”

  “I don’t know,” John said.

  “Well, what the hell are we going to do?” Drake asked, pacing the room. “How the hell did he get in here?”

  “I don’t know!” John whirled on him. “Damn, Drake, give me a minute to think.”

  “I think we should do what he says for now. Find out what he has in mind. Then—formulate a plan,” Holt said, his voice a strong monotone.

  “I think Holt’s right,” Colin said. “Nicolas wants something. We need to find out what that something is. We don’t want to risk Lark’s life.”

  “What? Bring our women to a vampire? What do you think he’s going to ask them to do? Make sandwiches?” Drake glared at all of them in turn.

  John raised his hands, palms up. “Knock it off. This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing. Fighting amongst ourselves.”

  “Madison wasn’t invited,” Drake snapped. “Our women were.”

  “That’s uncalled for,” Holt said. “John had nothing to do with that.”

  “Are you saying that Grace is some shy, dainty little thing who can’t take care of herself?” John asked Drake.

  “Of course not.”

  “All of our women are strong, stronger than any of us truly know,” John said. “Any of them would be an asset in a fight.”

  Colin thought of Heather. In recent days, she had shown her true wildness of spirit but—would she be able to fight to the death. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It remained to be seen how far this vampire would go and even though Colin feared for Heather, he knew there was strength in numbers. Plus, an angry woman could be very formidable. “We should be getting them,” Colin said. “Let’s not push Nicolas too far at this point. I’ll get Heather.”

  Drake shook his head. “It’s like leading lambs to the slaughter.”

  “That may be, but our little lambs are sometimes wolves in sheep’s clothing,” Colin said.

  * * * *

  Heather picked at her fingernails. Where the heck is he? She thought. At least the blasted buzzing alarm had stopped.

  “Well, I’m not going to sit here any longer,” she declared, pushing off the bed and striding toward the door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, someone knocked.

  Heather gulped, her hand instinctively going to her chest. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Colin. Open the door, Heather.”

  Heather heaved a sigh of relief, turned the doorknob and jerked it open. “I was getting worried.”

  “You should be,” Colin said, brushing past her. He strode to his closet and whipped out a shirt.

  “Hey,” Heather said, hands on her hips as she watch
ed him dress. “The least you could do is tell me what’s going on instead of just blazing past me with hardly a word.”

  “I don’t have time for you to be petulant right now,” he said, switching his lounge pants for a pair of jeans.

  Heather felt a pang of hurt in the pit of her stomach. Colin had never spoken to her this way before. “Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I’ll just go on back to my own room since you’re so busy.” She turned and took two steps out the door before a strong arm caught her around the waist.

  He turned her around so quickly that she stumbled, her hands bracing herself against his chest.

  “Listen to me,” he said, his voice gruff. “This situation has nothing to do with us. I need you to understand this, first and foremost.”

  Heather looked up at him. His eyes were intense, a small muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched. “Then why are you acting like such an ass?” she blurted out.

  “I’m not…” Colin cut his own words off, pressing his lips together and closing his eyes for a second.

  Heather held her breath. What the heck had happened? Had she went too far by calling him an ass?

  Finally, he blew out a breath. “We have an intruder in the house. A vampire.”

  “What?” Heather felt a shot of ice shiver down her spine. “How?”

  Colin shook his head. “I don’t know how but he’s holding Lark hostage.”

  Heather sucked in her breath. Lark Raven—a hostage? “What are we going to do?”

  “The first thing we are going to do is get you some clothes to put on. Not that leather outfit. Something more substantial.” Colin drew her back into the bedroom.

  “I’ve got my skirt and blouse I was wearing over it,” she said, dropping the robe on the floor. She grabbed the blouse and drew it over her head. “Then what?”

  Colin crossed to the phone. “I’m going to make a few in-house calls,” he said, punching numbers. “You finish getting dressed.”

  Heather didn’t understand what was happening but she knew they were in danger. While Colin dialed number after number, speaking into the phone, Heather continued to dress, worry about Lark making her feel nauseous. The woman was old and frail, though her spirit was still as strong as ever. But that spirit wouldn’t save her in the clutches of a vampire. By the time Heather was finished dressing, Colin was ending his last phone call.