Chapter 17
The great hall was filled with new people that Marcella had never seen before. Donavon had done an amazing job with recruiting. She looked around and smiled at all the curious faces. The pressure against both her arms increased as Samael and Ambrose moved in closer. Before, she’d traditionally walked with two men at her sides, but now it didn’t have anything to do with her customs, and everything to do with them trying to protect her.
“The lion pack from the Panhandle Region,” Donavon announced.
Marcella noticed there were maybe twenty. Small for a pack in Texas, but she knew when it came to shifters that some species weren’t as widespread as others. The wolves had flocked in by the thousands once Donavon had made the call, and now this was the third lion pack in the state of Texas who’d shown up at their door. The fortress was beginning to become so crowded that it was downright amazing.
The rounding of her stomach became exposed as she walked forward to meet them. She couldn’t believe she was already in her fifth month. Time was flying by, and the more she threw herself into connecting with the different people of the paranormal world, the more she became lost to the days and weeks that passed. It was only a matter of time before the leader of the fey community would arrive. Since leaving was out of the question, she’d sent her men in pairs to do the job for her. They went in not trying to collect souls, but offering an invitation to come to the fortress for information on how things worked. It made the potential followers feel a lot more comfortable. It also gave them time to think over the proposition they’d been given.
Marcella bowed to a man in his early forties. It was amazing how much more in tune she’d become since her pregnancy. She didn’t need a person’s soul anymore to be able to know their life’s history.
“Zachariah. I thank you for gracing us with your presence. It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things about your pack and leadership in the lion community.”
He bowed his head. “Queen Marcella. Thank you for the opportunity to be able to see the place we’re debating to call our home. I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical when we first pulled up. I’ve never seen a projection before. I thought the small house was indeed your fortress. Your power alone shows me that your men weren’t lying when they praised your strength. It also gives truth to the stories they told about you being able to keep our souls safe.”
Marcella led him into the large meeting room she had for the gatherings. It looked like a large living area. There were multiple couches and lounges throughout the space. She watched them all take a seat, and she did the same on a sofa that faced where the alpha sat. The comfort of her potential followers was crucial. She wanted them to feel at home.
“What my men told you was the truth.”
“Indeed. After they left it gave me plenty of time to research the roles of soul collectors. It led me to your story. Or what we know about it. I have to ask. If a battle were to commence in the future, we understand the terms are that we’re promised to protect you and keep you safe, but my question is, what if we fail? What happens to our souls then?”
“When your soul is taken, depending on your life and where you’re meant to go, you will be sent there upon my death. Just because I truly die it doesn’t mean you’re stuck with me or one of my collectors forever. We’re just a vessel, per se. But we both know, when it comes down to it, I’m the most powerful collector you’ll ever meet. I don’t plan to die this time, Zachariah. Let’s say I do, though. No worries, you’ll be safe. You get to your final destination, regardless. And it’s further than you’d get if you weren’t harbored by one of us at all.”
“Very true,” the alpha nodded. “Well, I think we’d like to stay. Your men told us that the ceremony usually happens within the week a new pack arrives, so that’ll give us time to see how things work here. I understand that one of your collectors will actually be the one who holds our souls. Not you.” He looked down at her stomach. “I take it the baby is why?”
Her hand instinctively settled on her stomach. “Yes, the ritual requires a lot of my blood. I can’t risk my son’s health. But do know that your souls are as safe with them as they are with me. My collectors cannot die unless I do, so the outcome is the same either way.”
“That’s what they said. I just wanted to make sure.” He stood, and Marcella and her men rose from the couch.
“Please make yourself at home. We’re all in this together so I ask that there be no fighting whatsoever. We hold shifters of all kinds, vampires, and fey will be here later. If any of you have a problem with that, you know where the door is. I can’t risk my people getting injured because of a hidden prejudice against what they are. They know the rules, and I guarantee you they know better than to disobey my wishes. They’re actually all becoming very good friends. I’m sure if you give them a chance, they’ll embrace you fully. Does everyone understand?”
Zachariah bowed. “My men will not cause any problems. I promise.”
“Good.” Marcella smiled and led them out into the great hall. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like. Your quarters will be on the east wing, where the shifters stay. They have those quarters strictly to themselves. The vampires stay on the west wing. Please respect their space and only go there if you’re accompanied with one, or have their permission. We try to keep things as respectful here as we can. I understand people need privacy and that’s important in a place where a lot of individuals live together.”
He nodded and she watched them head for the stairs that led to their domain. Samael’s arm tightened around her and Marcella leaned into his chest. Something caught her attention and she stared across the room.
“Who are those men huddled together over there?” She turned to Ambrose as he looked in the general direction.
“I think those are some of the wolves who got here a few days ago. I can call Donavon if you’d like.” Ambrose pulled out his phone but she shook her head.
Marcella closed her eyes, letting her mind guide her. “No, let’s just keep an eye on them. I’m not sure what they’re up to, but I have a weird feeling about them being so secretive. No one has a conversation leaning that close together.”
One of them looked right at her and Marcella felt herself step forward. Ben came up and began talking to Ambrose and Samael. The words coming from his mouth didn’t even break through as she held the man’s eyes.
The length of the great hall disappeared behind her while she walked toward him. The other men began staring at her, too, and she couldn’t get over their expressions. They were unreadable, yet she couldn’t stop the concern it made her feel. She needed to get them out. Everything inside of her knew she didn’t want them here.
Samael’s voice called out to her. Marcella turned and watched as his curiosity faded to fear in slow motion. So many flashes from the past covered her. She jerked her attention to the men as everything else practically stood still. The knife flying in her direction was level with her stomach.
A gasp exploded from her mouth as the speed increased considerably. Power burst from her body as she pushed the energy out to shield herself from the blade. Cement crumbled from the floor and began to roll toward them in a tidal wave of flying pieces of concrete. The ground shook under her feet, and a loud groaning from the walls filled her ears. The devastation before her was catastrophic. She’d only been trying to protect herself and reflect the knife, and yet, her great hall looked like a bomb had gone off.
Dust from the broken floor filled the air, making her cough. “Marcella!” Her men ran up. Ambrose pulled her into his arms, but Samael kept walking toward where the men had been. A sword appeared in his hand. Light reflected from the blade and the tattoos disappeared from his arms. Marcella knew his anger had pulled him into his demon master.
“Are you okay?” Ambrose turned her to face him. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Yeah, I can’t believe that just happened.” People began to crowd behind them, but she barely noti
ced. Ben came to her side and she couldn’t get over how the events had played out. Jason bust into the room at a full sprint, and Zepar was right behind him. They were drenched with sweat from practice.
“Marcella!” After a few seconds his eyes spotted her and he rushed over. Zepar caught sight of his brother and headed for him. “What the hell is going on?” A piece of cement crashed into the wall as Samael removed it from one of the injured bodies of the men plotting to kill her.
The explanation got caught in her throat. Ambrose didn’t mind taking over. “They were up to something. Ben came over to inform us that they’d been acting strange since they got here and we looked up and Marcella was walking toward them. I only saw the knife flying toward her for a split second before…” He trailed off, looking at the destruction.
“You did that,” Jason whispered to her.
“Yes. I was only trying to shield myself, but I guess I didn’t realize how powerful I have become. If they hadn’t been alone”—she shook her head—”I could have hurt someone more than them.”
Deep voices coming from Samael and Zepar pulled her attention. They held the man who’d thrown the knife a good two feet from the ground. His legs kicked as he fought them. A dark mist began to swirl around the brothers and Marcella stepped forward.
Their voices got louder as they increased the speed of their chant. Suddenly, the sword in Samael’s hand drove forward and the man was gone. A ragged breath came from her mouth and Marcella’s hand flew to her lips.
“They just sent him to hell,” Jason said, just as surprised as her. “Holy shit.” He looked at her and Ambrose. “Remind me not to piss them off.”
As they pulled up one of the other men, she turned and headed for her stairs. She couldn’t watch this. Her son kicked in her stomach and she held to where he’d made the contact. The crowd separated and Nayla stopped her and kissed her forehead. “They deserved this. No one will try to hurt you while we’re here. We won’t let them.”
She gave the vampire a tender smile and returned the kiss. “Thank you, Nayla.” Ambrose’s hand locked around hers and she peered up at him. “I have to go lie down.” Jason took her other arm and they were suddenly next to her bed. The formal dress she wore vanished and she put on her nightgown. The day was still young, but the power she’d used had drained her. If she was going to meet with the fey she needed rest. Lots and lots of it.
* * * *
Samael looked at his brother and shook his head, angrily. “What’s coming to them isn’t nearly enough.”
“Was smart of you to silence them eternally,” Zepar said, looking at him evilly. “They’ll never be able to blow our cover now.” They were both still in demon form. Standing there together, Samael could feel how their energy radiated out. Their evil auras had never been this thick before. He let the collector take over, noticing that people were staring. Zepar quickly changed over with him, too.
Marcella was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the crowd and leaped down off the broken foundation. With his hand he smoothed out the concrete and made everything appear as it had before Marcella had blown a hole in the flooring. “Everything’s okay,” he announced to the people standing there in shock. Lord only knew what they thought about the dose of power their queen had displayed. If anything, it’d shown them she was fully capable of protecting their souls.
“To Marcella’s room,” he told his brother, just as he disappeared. Ambrose was sitting on the edge of her bed while Jason paced. Samael rushed forward and lowered himself next to his queen. “Marcy, love, look at me.”
Slowly she opened her eyes, and he rubbed the hair back from her face. “Are they all gone?”
“Yes. You won’t have to worry about any of them again. I promise.”
Tears came to her eyes. “I could have hurt someone innocent. My gifts are too much. I should have listened to the priestess a long time ago and started making them my own. Now they’re out of control.” She yawned. “And exhausting.”
A grin came to his mouth. “You should rest while you can. We can go down somewhere to work on your gifts later if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I wouldn’t know where to go. When the High Priestess mentioned it before, my first thought was that I could practice in the dungeon.” She paused. “But I would tear this whole fortress apart.”
“I think you’re right.” Samael laughed. “Don’t worry.” He kissed her forehead. “I have the perfect place. You can wreak all the havoc you want and not a single soul will know it.”
“Really?” He could see she was getting excited. “Yes. Now get some sleep. You have quite the day ahead of you. Donavon and Dominic should be back soon, and I think us men should all have a meeting. I’ll have Ben and Nayla come up here with you as protection. Sound all right?”
A smile came to her face and stayed there, even as her eyes shut. “Sounds great.”
“Good.” He couldn’t help but nuzzle her neck. The smell of her skin comforted him, and he pushed himself to break away before he crawled in the bed with her and never got out. He motioned for the men to head to the balcony so she could be in peace without their voices disturbing her.
A chill whipped through the air. Winter in South Texas was in full swing. It had to be in the low forties and was still supposed to drop to the midtwenties by tonight. Samael felt the wind rush through his hair and he groaned. He was getting tired of it blowing in his face lately. Zepar lit a cigarette and Samael really studied his features. They looked a lot alike. Would Samael resemble him even more if he cut his hair, or would it actually set them apart?
Roughness greeted his hand while he trailed it over his cheek. Yeah, it was definitely time for a change. The door shut behind Ambrose and the vampire wrapped his jacket around him tighter. After Samael was sure Marcella couldn’t hear them, he started. “What happened in there should be a lesson learned. It’s dangerous to have people in here when their souls have yet to belong to any collector in the house. Donavon was responsible for them, but he has work to do. He can’t watch over everyone and still go out and recruit more. It’s up to us to keep our eyes peeled. Whenever Marcella is not in her room I want her watched at all times. If there are too many people and you’re having a hard time keeping your eye on everyone, project your own shield around her. Whatever you have to do to keep her safe.”
“I still can’t believe they’d actually try to kill her, surrounded by so many of her followers. Even if they would have succeeded, didn’t they know we all would have torn them apart?” The hoodie Jason made appear around him shadowed his face in the dim grayness.
Ambrose shook his head. “The motive wasn’t to kill her. It was the baby they were after. I felt it the moment I zeroed in on the weapon. The traces of energy coming from the knife still had remnants on it from the man who threw it.”
Ice water rushed through Samael’s veins. “The knife was rather low when I saw it coming toward her. I had that impression, too.” Pressure pushed against his chest and he couldn’t stand the thought of how close they’d come to losing his son. If Marcella hadn’t reacted as fast as she had, things could have turned out different.
“This goes higher than the man who threw the knife,” Ambrose said, quietly. “Those three were working with someone. The question is, who? We need Donavon to really watch who they bring in. We can’t afford for this to happen again.”
“I’d like to know who it was.” Samael felt the heat engulf his upper body from his anger. It got in his suit and was confined by the half trench coat he wore. He was still dressed from the meeting, and now due to the concrete Marcella had destroyed, he was covered in dust. For some reason he was uncomfortable in his own skin. It wasn’t just the hair, or the need to shave. It was deep within him. He couldn’t wait until his son was here. Or he could at least see him and know he was okay. “All right, I’m off to wash up. I’ll be down in twenty minutes. Keep your eyes open for Dom and Donavon to come back. Let them know we’re having a mee
ting, and to not go anywhere.”
The men nodded and he headed toward his room. Lights turned on at his command and he stripped off his clothes. He walked to the restroom and stared at the big mirror. Now, what could he do with himself? Although he hated change, this was a long time coming. There was no more hiding what or who he looked like.
Chapter 18
“Marcella, my queen.” The soft caress stroking down Marcella’s face had her eyes fluttering open. It took a few seconds for her to figure out why Nayla was waking her up. The blonde vampire’s green eyes were but inches away. She was lying down right next to her. “The fey are coming. I can sense their presence not far away.”
“Oh. Right.” Aching settled in her hips and Marcella groaned as she scooted off the bed. She walked to the restroom and started brushing her teeth. As she focused on getting the taste out of her mouth, her hand started moving in its usual routine. Every time she woke up she always made some of her special tea. It’d taken a while to get the ingredients down right, but she’d drunk it enough to replicate the flavor perfectly.
Her door opened and she washed out the toothbrush and made it disappear. A light blue formal gown appeared on her body and she loved the way the color looked against her skin. At the crown settling into place, her outfit was complete. She’d only just picked up her cup when Marcella turned and caught sight of broad shoulders in a suit, and dark hair.
Samael faced her and the tea almost fell to the floor. He looked so much like his father that she had to blink a few times to convince herself that she was mistaken. She walked into the room to get a closer look.
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