“What reason? Envy? Revenge?” He waved the dagger around.
“Your best interest.” She heaved herself away from the pillar, standing upright, ready to protect herself if he lunged at her. She’d fight him with her bare hands if she had to.
“Only I know what my best interests are, and they are not to go into a fight crippled and blind.” His eyes narrowed.
“I would have increased your power eventually, but I needed to be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“Sure I could trust you.”
“It seems I am not the one who cannot be trusted.”
Apologize, said the voice inside her head. Ask for forgiveness; say you were wrong. But those words stuck in her throat, trampled by the harsh ones that marched out.
“You are a child in this, Carn.”
His fist tensed around the dagger’s hilt. “And you are an arrogant general who cannot see that her soldiers need strong weapons. I will not go anywhere with you until you grant me my full power.”
“I have not the strength for this now.”
“You will find it,” he said through his teeth.
“Do not order me around. Especially not after what I went through to rescue you.”
He took a step towards her, the weapon held by his side. “I would not have needed rescuing if you had been honest.”
Carn was a fool if he thought he could stand up to Xadrak and win. “I give you my word that—”
“Your word isn’t worth shit.”
“It’s all you’re going to get right now. I have barely the strength to argue, let alone release your full potential—which, I might add, is not that much greater than what you have now—so you either accept I will do this soon, or we will part ways now.”
Another few steps closer and he’d be within striking distance. She refused to cower even as she had to fight not to sway. The fatigue had to be endured and suppressed.
He stared at her for a long time, and though the weariness threatened to make her knees shake, she returned his gaze.
He put the dagger away, sliding it through his belt. “I swear, you so much as try to weasel your way out of this and there’ll be hell to pay.”
“You’d be wise not to threaten me, Carn.”
“And you’d be wise not to double-cross the one who’s fucking your oracle.”
XXII
After Aurelia dumped Carn in his arms, Hame begged her to stay, but she vanished before he’d finished speaking. She looked ragged and worn, and he hoped she only needed rest.
He hugged Carn tight, but the witch stiffened. Worried Carn was injured, Hame eased back, a hard feat when he wanted to hold him close.
“Are you hurt?” he asked before seeing the thunder in his eyes.
“She almost got me killed,” he growled, then marched into the cottage.
What had happened?
He reached for Aurelia, but she swatted him away. She was weaker than he’d ever known her to be, and although he wanted to push, although he needed answers, he wouldn’t force her.
Hame entered his home to find Carn leaning on the table, his back hunched and head low. A dagger lay on the table. He approached warily, sliding his hand up Carn’s spine, but instead of soothing him, it enraged him further. Carn shoved him away.
“She’s a liar. How can you trust her?”
His stomach dipped. He knew what had happened, not because of any prophecy or knowing. He simply knew Aurelia. But he had to hear it anyway.
“Tell me.”
Spit flew from Carn’s mouth as he gestured and ranted, relaying his confrontation with Xadrak and the puny power Aurelia had given him. The more he spoke, the greater Hame’s own anger became. She had nearly cost Carn his life. His warnings had all been for nothing. He’d told her not to ignore Carn, not to treat him badly, but she’d done exactly that.
When Carn finished, he stormed out, not wanting to be calmed. Hame didn’t have it in him anyway. He bombarded Aurelia until she let him in.
I need sleep, Hame. Leave me be.
No. What you need to do is come here and give Carn his full power.
He told you, did he? Might have known he’d run crying to you.
I TOLD you not to ignore him, but you seem to think I say these things to amuse myself. I’m an ORACLE, or have you forgotten?
What did you see?
He didn’t want her to know about Carn’s vision. She’d be too rash, too quick to snuff him out. It doesn’t matter what I saw; it’s what I tell you that’s important.
What does Carn do?
Nothing. He doesn’t do anything. But that’ll change if you don’t start listening to me.
You’re lying. You’ve seen something. He’s going to do something bad.
I give you my word he will not cause harm. But I cannot give that guarantee if you treat him this way.
She kept her thoughts quiet, but she stayed, mulling over what he said.
I will come tomorrow.
Then she locked him out. A chill stole across her mind, matching the one growing inside his chest.
Lying to Aurelia had always been hard.
She came grudgingly, but she came, sweeping into his house the next morning without knocking. But Hame kept an eye on her. He knew her tricks. And when she entered, he and Carn were awake, dressed and waiting.
“You should rise earlier if you expect to catch me unawares, Aurelia.” He laughed, but she was not amused. Neither was Carn, and his sullenness worried Hame more. Carn had eventually returned before night fell. They’d made love and fallen asleep in each other’s arms, but when Carn woke he still fumed.
The two witches glared at each other until Aurelia crooked a finger for him to come closer. Carn stopped two steps away from her, within arm’s reach. She stretched her hand and touched his chest. His shoulders tensed momentarily.
“Don’t make me regret this.” Her power surged into him.
Carn’s jaw tightened but he couldn’t stop his grunts escaping. He lowered to his knees. Hame made a move to help him, but Aurelia glowered, and he stepped back. Then she closed her eyes.
Carn writhed, and Hame saddened to realize she wasn’t above making Carn suffer more than necessary. He moved to intercede, but as he did so, she withdrew her hand. Without her to keep Carn upright Hame rushed forward, hooked his lover’s arms and hoisted him into a chair. Sweat plastered his hair to his head, but he was alive, and his eyes lit with joy.
“He’ll be groggy for a while,” she said, her voice flat. “I’m sure you can care for him.” She turned to the door.
“Wait!” Carn called out.
She stopped.
“You still need to teach me. And I still want to help you.”
She glared at him. “What makes you think I’d lower myself?”
Hame’s heart squeezed. “Please, Aurelia, don’t leave. Remember what I said.”
Neither her head nor her shoulders drooped, nor did she sigh, but he felt her sag, as if his plea anchored her when she’d rather sail free. He didn’t regret having Carn in his life, but he admitted a crack had appeared between him and Aurelia the day the blond witch had arrived. He wanted her to know she remained in his heart, but the way he held Carn must have been a cannonball to her chest.
But at least she agreed to return.
“Tomorrow.”
XXIII
Carn approached the Duke one winter’s night in a Bavarian inn. The gruff and hollowed out man sat wrapped in a thick coat in front of a dying fire. This was not the first time he’d seen the Duke. Months before, he’d accompanied Aurelia to a castle and aided her in establishing a protective shield over it. Once the shield was erected, she went in search of someone, leaving him behind to witness the Duke embark on his mission: vampire hunting—Aurelia’s brothers, to be exact. He’d stored that knowledge away until it came in useful.
Tonight he had cause to act on it.
The Duke had torn across the country, hell-bent on finding the fiend wh
o’d murdered his son. Though he began his crusade with a band of men, they eventually abandoned him. He became a lost figure, rampaging from town to town in search of vampires and witches. Many called him mad, but those who did met a bad end. He’d left a trail behind him as bloody as those he sought, but he’d learned the skills of an assassin during his mission.
The Duke didn’t look up when Carn sat opposite him, but his nose wrinkled as if perhaps he could scent the magic coming off him. His hate of witches was no concern to Carn.
“You’re looking for a vampire, am I right?”
There was no movement, but the Duke listened.
“As strong as you think you are, you won’t be able to kill him yourself.”
The Duke ground his jaw. His eyes became slits.
“How would you like some help?”
“I suggest you get away from me before I gut you.” The Duke’s growl was more bear than man.
“You are welcome to try, but you will fail, and then I will kill you. Your son will die unavenged.”
“What do you know of Wolf?”
“I know a vampire slaughtered him.”
“And what is that to you?”
“I want the vampire dead too.”
The Duke gave him an appraising glance, then curled his lip. “You are weak. He’d pick his teeth with your bones.”
He smiled. “I am more powerful than you think, but I would prefer you to be the weapon. Your thirst for vengeance is greater than mine.”
“How could you possibly help me?”
“I can give you strength, speed, immortality.”
“I do not wish to live forever.”
“You would rather die before your mission is complete?” Carn said. “The vampire merely has to wait, and time will take care of you.”
“You are a consort of the Devil. I will not ally myself with you.” The Duke looked conceited enough to fail alone rather than succeed with the help of a witch. But Carn couldn’t allow that.
He leant forward and stared into the Duke’s shadow-rimmed eyes. “Wolf demands justice, and without me you’ll never get it.”
The Duke’s lips tensed, but other than that he didn’t move. The hard wall of his glare pressed at Carn, yet it could not budge him, so they stayed locked together until the Duke spoke again.
“Tell me what I have to do.”
III
He was an oracle no more
Present Day
I
“You’re sure about him?” Aurelia asked.
“As sure as I can be about anybody.”
They sat inside Mira’s lakeside house. A blizzard raged outside but inside they were warm and snug, seated on plush sofas like two old friends chatting over coffee.
“He’s powerful, Aurelia. More powerful than I’d expect.” The Canadian witch with the auburn hair and mismatched eyes—one green, one brown—had a knack for finding the magically gifted. Fifty years Mira had been doing this, ever since Hame had found her. Perhaps he knew what troubles lay ahead for them and had wanted her to have a confidante. The idea stung that he’d cared for her enough to not see her alone, but not enough to repair the damage between them.
“Worried?”
She released the ends of her hair, unaware her fingers had begun twirling them. She dispelled her thoughts of Hame. “If he’s powerful, it usually means Xadrak has already got him.”
“Only one way to find out.” Mira couldn’t know for certain whether the witches she’d located already used what they possessed or whose side they were on. She tracked the power—weak or strong—wherever it sparked. To find out what was in the witch’s soul required the personal touch.
“Any others?” She had been amassing an army for more than a century and she always needed more allies.
“There are a couple with mid-level strength. Xadrak might get them before long. Do you want me to ask one of the others to check them out?”
“Yes, though make sure they can handle what we’re asking.”
“Do I ever disappoint?”
“Remember James?”
Mira’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls. “The one time I pick a serial killer!”
She laughed. Eventually, Mira did too. James had been easily dealt with.
“You should smile more often, Aurelia. It looks good on you.”
Her smile softened with gratitude. “I must go.” She walked over to the witch and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Please be kind to this one. He’s going to go through a lot with those brothers of yours.”
She chuckled. “He’ll need more than kindness to survive them.”
The new witch was a work of art. Oberon opened the door wearing only a pair of sweatpants, but his chest wasn’t bare. A large thorn and star tattoo splayed across his sternum and pecs. He had 30 April with twenty-two crosses beneath inked on the right side of his lithe abdomen, and more symbols and words adorned each arm.
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” he said.
Aurelia hadn’t delayed in tracking him down. She’d approached him the day before and given a moderate display of her power. Enough to intrigue. She’d shown Oberon hers, and he’d shown her his. Mira had been right. The young man had quite the ability. He was weaker than her, obviously, but still strong enough to make her sit up and pay attention, and he had more discipline than Carn did when they’d first met.
She entered his apartment, closing the door behind her. He offered her a drink, but she declined.
“I said yesterday I’m the head of a coven of witches that stretches across the globe. Today I’m offering you a place within that coven.”
“What’s the catch?”
No ‘thank you’, no blush at the flattery, just straight to the point. She liked him.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that you have a lot of strength, more than I’d actually believe possible. But still—and I don’t say this to boast—you are much weaker than me. I’m willing to unlock more power within you.”
“But there’s a price. What is it?” he asked in that cut-through-the-bullshit Australian accent.
She sighed. “There’s a war raging between my coven and a group that follows a demon called Xadrak. Their numbers grow, and mine must do the same.”
He sat on the arm of the leather sofa. “I’m not looking to get involved in any war.”
“You might not have a choice. If I’ve found you, others will too, and while I’d let you walk away with your life, they won’t.”
He looked at the door and folded his arms over his chest. The thumb of his left hand rubbed the tattooed Ô on his bicep. “What do you need me to do?”
She smiled. “I need you to protect someone.”
“Who?”
“Two vampires.”
His eyes bulged. “Vampires? Two of them? Are you insane?” He shot up and paced around the room, putting distance between them as if she were the vampire.
“Sadly not.”
“Why do two vampires need protection? Surely they should be exterminated.”
Most of the witches she knew had the same aversion, but they eventually rationalized their feelings away. She hoped Oberon could do the same. “Not these two.”
“What’s so special about them?”
“Without them, we will never get rid of Xadrak.”
“And you want me to protect two murderous psychos? From what?”
“To use your phrase, another murderous psycho. We call him the Duke.” The man was a permanent reminder of how she’d ruined everything with Liesel. She wished him dead, but according to Hame he had his uses, such as something to do with the ever-elusive key. Wherever the damn thing was.
“The vampires, Olivier and Thierry, will be coming here to Perth soon. The Duke will follow. I have extreme confidence in them that they will not come to serious harm, but I would appreciate another level of security. And aid if they require it.” No doubt Thierry chafed at being stuck with hi
s brother once more, a necessity Aurelia had had to orchestrate.
Oberon gave her a pained smile, his brow furrowing at the same time. “It’s one thing to stop a demon, but to help a vampire? You do know they drink blood, right?”
“I’m well aware. Whatever your moral qualms about the issue, I need you to ensure they don’t die. If you want to stop them from killing innocents, then be my guest but I’d advise against it. As strong as you are, Olivier has much practice killing witches. In fact, he takes a lot of delight in doing so.”
She had lost a number of her followers to his fangs, though thankfully not as many as Xadrak.
“And what do they look like, or should I follow the trail of blood?”
She pulled a photo from her pocket and held it out to him.
He looked at it as if she’d offered him fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. Perhaps in a way, she did. He took it nonetheless.
His brows flicked up and appreciation flashed in his eyes. “Which one is this?”
“They’re identical twins. Though that is Thierry.”
“How can you tell?”
“He’s the one who doesn’t grin like a raving lunatic. Do you accept?”
He stared at the photograph for a long time. The offer held allure: more power for a simple surveillance job.
“I accept.” He put the photo down on the coffee table.
“Excellent. And if you do come into contact with them, please leave my name out of it, especially if you’re talking to Olivier. My brother gets a bit…itchy when he hears it.”
“Wait. Brother? Does that mean you’re…?”
“No, just a witch. Are you ready?”
He picked up the photo again and peered at it then her, trying to spot the family resemblance. Apart from the black hair, he’d find none.
“Nothing will go wrong,” she said. “Trust me.”
He bit his bottom lip, looking from her ready palm, to her face, to the picture in his hand. She wasn’t worried. The decision had been made the moment Oberon let her into his apartment, but she allowed him to think he processed it now. Some people valued free will and all that tripe.
Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2 Page 19