by Patti Larsen
Uncle Frank’s arms pulled me in, his broad chest just how I remembered it. Every time he hugged me, I felt like I was a little girl all over again, with my tall, handsome uncle looking out for me.
Just because he was a vampire didn’t mean he couldn’t be the best uncle ever.
Had my vote.
“I don’t know how much time we have,” Sunny said, taking my hand and leading me toward the back of the throne room. I looked up at the stained glass window, a beautiful, round piece of art depicting Sunny and Uncle Frank, smiling in tinted silicate. The previous one, a more deathly scene, but stunning nonetheless, had been shattered last summer when I freed the Wilhelm Blood Clan from the sorcerer’s taint. Nice to see they’d gotten around to replacing it with something happier.
“Applegate promised me she’d stay out of things, but I’m not sure she really meant it.” Sunny’s chin tilted to the right where a small group of vampires waited, her court always assembled, it seemed. Piotr Wilhelm, my biggest vampire fan aside from Celeste and Pannera Sthol, glared at me before turning and leaving the throne room.
“You do know he’s snitching on us, right?” I had no doubt in my mind the handsome, if arrogant and totally misguided, vampire still blamed me for the death of his beloved queen, Yvette. Like it was my fault Batsheva Moromond turned her power-stealing ways from witches to vampires after almost destroying the North American High Council. Or that Yvette hadn’t been strong enough to stand against the Brotherhood and Batsheva.
That, I would never feel guilt over.
Sunny sat gracefully on a low divan, her skirts whispering around her. Though she and Uncle Frank had mostly abandoned the vampire’s tradition of wearing elaborate court attire, she still dressed more formally than her favorite suits and jeans. I took a seat next to her, Shenka joining Uncle Frank on a matching bench just opposite, the four of us tucked behind the throne dais for a little privacy.
I shuddered at the cold, amping up my demon’s power to push back the chill of the air in the old castle. Sunny hissed softly at my personal temperature when she gripped my hand, though she didn’t pull away.
“Sorry,” she said with a kind smile. “You always suffer the cold here.”
“You’re just lucky you don’t feel it.” I shivered, forcing my jaw to relax so my teeth wouldn’t chatter. A waft of steam rose from my breath as my demon stepped up the heat. “So why don’t you boot Piotr’s ass if he’s making trouble?”
And trouble was coming, yes indeed. Always did, in the form of Margaret Applegate. No matter what I did, how I shielded, how much I pushed down my power, within ten minutes of arriving at Castle Wilhelm, I was invariably confronted with the arrogant and angry form of European Council Leader and her posse of grim-faced Enforcers. I noticed her Enforcer leader never joined her and often wondered where was Elliot Pearson. The jovial Irish witch at least kind of liked me, though I was positive Applegate’s animosity had less to do with personal reasons and more with the Brotherhood’s attempt to take her over.
Didn’t make me like her any more, though.
Sunny shrugged, pulling away. “You asked about Charlotte.”
Ah. Oops. I guess I did step over the line. I’d never accept Sunny telling me what to do with my coven, so fair enough.
“I did,” I said. “Thank you for looking into it for me.”
She accepted my focus as my apology as much as I did her redirect as a rebuke. Loved her for her class.
“I want you to meet someone.” Sunny looked up, gestured. I glanced over Shenka’s shoulder, saw a slim, pretty girl emerge from the shadows. No, not a girl. A vampire, her light brown hair rippling with streaks of gold, bright eyes almost the same color. She dipped a bobbing curtsy to me, slender body wrapped in a dark cloak.
“Hi,” I said. Looked at Sunny.
“This is Isabelle,” the vampire queen said. “She has the news you asked for.”
The young woman—vampire—bobbed again, small hands gripped tight before her. “Coven Leader,” she said in a refined voice. “When my queen asked for information about the werewolves, I immediately contacted a friend in the Ukraine.”
Charlotte’s old stomping grounds. That made sense.
I nodded for her to go on.
“I don’t know how much you know about werewolves, Coven Leader?”
“Educate me.” Yeah, really didn’t know much at all. I’d asked a few questions of Charlotte, but she never answered. And though a few of her werewolf friends hung around a bit after she first bonded to me, they left shortly after Mom took over as Council Leader.
A little anger stirred inside me. Aimed at Charlotte. Stubborn, tight-lipped, bratski—
Isabelle shed her robe in a fluid motion, revealing jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. I did a bit of a double take, she seemed so ordinary. Well, except for her beauty, how pale her skin was.
The fact she was undead.
Yeah. Ordinary.
“I was born in the Ukraine,” Isabelle said. I could hear the hint of her accent despite her polished tone, the same accent Charlotte struggled with when the weregirl grew emotional. “My family was tied to the faction who created the werewolves so long ago.”
“Sorcerers?” I looked at Sunny then back at the vampire girl. “Are you saying you were a sorcerer before you were turned?”
“My father was,” Isabelle said. “But my mother was normal. My brothers had power, but my sisters and I were latent. It is often this way with sorcery. The magic falls to one gender or the other in the bloodline.”
Another thing I didn’t know. Educate me, no kidding.
“So your family was—or is—Brotherhood.” I tried not to judge her, but damn it, I’d almost had it up to my aching eyeballs with Liander Belaisle and his crew.
Isabelle shook her head, spiraled waves moving in ripples around her shoulders. “Not at all,” she said. “Nor were they Steam Union.”
Right. The “good” sorcerers. I had as yet to believe that was possible, though Demetrius Strong had proven a wonderful ally after shaking free of the Brotherhood, and he had originally been part of the mysterious Steam Union at one point. At least, until he lost his marbles.
“The sorcerers who created the werewolves are a small sect,” Isabelle said. Was her voice shaking all of a sudden? “Led by a powerful family. They resisted both the Brotherhood and the Steam Union for centuries, keeping to themselves. It was their goal to become Creators.” She paused. “To out-create the maji.”
Interesting. “I take it they failed.” Didn’t think my voice could come out any drier without me choking on it.
“They did.” A ghost of a smile widened her rosy lips. “The werewolves might be fast healing and very strong, but they lack their own magic. Like vampires, they are magic. But we have access to ours, can use it to our advantage. Werewolves’ only ability is their shape shifting and extra strength.”
“Which they cannot always control.” Sunny patted my knee as she spoke before gesturing for Isabelle to continue.
“The sect was known as the чорні душі, the Black Souls, and, as a way to protect themselves from others, they formed an alliance with the Russian royal family. The earliest Czars always had werewolves as bodyguards and sorcerers as advisors.” Isabelle shifted a little on her bench. “You’ve heard of Grigori Rasputin?”
“He was a sorcerer?” My history lessons came back, a vague memory of a hairy guy women supposedly went nutso over, murdered by the last Czar, Nicholas II, for sleeping with the queen or something.
“He was,” she said. “And, at that time, he was the чорні душі leader. It was his desire to end the reign of Nicholas II, but was murdered before he could bring his plan to fruition.” She shivered. “He was a terrible man, but he held sway over the sect and his death marked the turning point where the Black Souls turned against the Imperial family and plotted their removal.” She wrinkled her nose. “And Yure Danko took his place.”
Why was I not surprised some sorc
erers had something to do with world-changing events?
“It was he who conspired to incite the revolution and it was the Black Souls who murdered the last of the Russian Imperial Romanovs.” Isabelle’s chin dropped, a soft sigh escaping her. “My family, Coven Leader. I worked as a governess for their daughter, Anastasia. All of us did, those without power but connected by blood to the Black Souls. When the Romanovs were killed, when my family betrayed those I loved, I fled the country.”
And somehow became a vampire. I was so wrapped up in her story I wanted to ask more. But this was supposed to be about Charlotte.
Isabelle must have realized it at the same moment, because she shook herself a little. “The werewolves were bonded to the Imperial family, but because their creators were the murderers, there was nothing the wolf folk could do. Once a proud and mighty fighting force, forced to watch their bonded die, the werewolves descended into despair.”
I flinched, remembering Charlotte’s death. “Assholes,” I said.
“Agreed,” Isabelle said. “This was a huge blow to their caн.” I’d heard that word before. Charlotte told me about it when she refused to leave me even though her life was in mortal danger at the time I was held by the vampire queens. Isabelle wrinkled her nose. “The closest I can come to in translation is ‘blood honor’. The werewolves stood on their word, were known to be faithful and courageous to the very end. But once their souls were broken, they never recovered.” Another pause. “Well, most of them.”
Whatever that meant. I didn’t get a chance to ask.
“And now?” Shenka’s voice startled me. I’d forgotten she was there.
“Now,” Isabelle said, “they are a pack of bullies, used by the Black Souls sect, forced to do their bidding, reduced to thugs and animals.” Anger ran under her voice, words shuddering with it. “The sorcerers use them to control the mafia.”
Um, what?
Isabelle’s lips twisted as she smiled a little. “Yes,” she said. “I see your surprise. But it is the чорні душі which created and control the majority of organized crime in Europe.”
So the Brotherhood weren’t the only ones taking on normals as targets.
Sorcerers sucked.
“The werewolves remain low in numbers, partly because of a very strict breeding program.” Like they really were animals. That core of anger fanned into smoking coals at the thought of Charlotte being treated like cattle. “And all but one family has succumbed to the pressure of the sect, owned by them but refusing to bow to their rule.”
Oh hell yeah. “Let me guess,” I said. “Charlotte’s family.” Because, that would be just like her, wouldn’t it?
Isabelle nodded, but sadly. “It is true,” she said. “But their numbers are small, and dwindle further every generation. If Charlotte can’t be saved, it is possible her loss could finally mean the end to the werewolf royal family.”
Wait. Saved?
Hang on. Royal family?
Holy.
***
Chapter Seven
I gaped a minute, trying to breathe, to react, something. Anything.
Shenka finally beat me to it.
“Are you saying Charlotte is a princess?” I met her equally shocked eyes as Isabelle frowned and looked back and forth between us.
“You didn’t know?” The young vampire shrugged. “I suppose it makes sense. Honor would keep her from doing anything to jeopardize your bond. And I’m certain, from what I’ve heard of you,” she smiled again, just a little, “had you known of the plight of her people, you would have acted to help them.”
Was that hope in her voice? If so, what tie did Isabelle have to the werewolves beyond her family’s past? Because no way did she have a reaction like that to ancient history.
Had to be a guy involved.
Yup, yup.
“The Moreau family is led by Oleksander, Charlotte’s grandfather.” Isabelle’s previously still hands wrung together suddenly. “From what I’ve been able to discover, Charlotte returned home, only to be imprisoned by the Black Souls and their leader, the Czar.” She shook her hands out before resting them in her lap again. “He thinks himself the ruler of everything, has adopted the title now despised by the werewolves. But Yure Danko is not to be treated lightly. Because of his control of most of the organized crime in this part of the world, he commands forces of normals as well as the werewolves and his own small sect of sorcerers.”
He couldn’t be that scary. I was maji. Then again… the Brotherhood left him alone. “Why hasn’t Belaisle gone after him?” Not like the Brotherhood leader to let someone get the better of him.
Isabelle’s shoulders twitched. “I told you,” she said. “He is not to be handled lightly.”
Well, regardless who this dude thought he was, if he was holding my friend hostage, he was about to find out what kind of hurt I could put on him. Sorcerer or not, crime boss or not, if one hair on Charlotte’s head was out of place, I’d find a very slow and painful way to make him see just how unhappy I was with his contribution to her hurt.
Right before I tore his little sect to pieces.
Wouldn’t you know, the moment I surged to my feet to go to Charlotte’s rescue, even if I had to drag Isabelle along with me to show me where to find this Czar and his nasty little hidey hole, the air in the throne room shuddered before erupting in puffs of blue flame.
Margaret Applegate flashed into view, a dozen black-robed Enforcers behind her. Seeing her made my heart sink to the tips of my boots even as I strode into the main throne room to face her.
“Coven Leader,” she grated through clenched teeth. “You’re in Europe again. Without permission.”
“Council Leader,” I snarled even as my chest tightened as I realized she now had me cornered. “I’m in my blood clan’s territory. As you very well know.”
“As I am forced to inform you,” Sunny said, white power flaring around her as she rose into the air, coming to hover before the still floating Applegate, “every single time Sydlynn comes to visit.” I felt bodies behind me, knew Shenka and Uncle Frank must have followed.
Applegate ignored the vampire queen, still focused on me. Her anger flared raw and full of blackness. How could her people not see what held her in thrall? The temptation to free her was so powerful I almost acted.
Almost.
If you are wrong, my vampire sent, casual but chilling, if she is merely insane and not under their control, you will be arrested and burned at the stake. And if she is under their control and you fail, you will suffer the same result. And Sunny will not be able to save you. Nor will your mother. You will start a war between territories. Are you prepared for that?
Damn it. I hated when she was right.
“Do you have intent to leave this castle?” Applegate’s eyes flickered sideways, falling on Piotr. How subtle. I was going to kill him.
But I had no choice, did I? If he knew who I was looking for—and I had no doubt he did—he also likely knew what Isabelle told me. Or, at least, enough of the history to piece it together. I could just barge my way around Europe. Swoop in, if I could pinpoint Charlotte’s location, and scoop her out of danger. But my vampire essence was right. The state Applegate was in, I was on the brink of starting a war I knew the Brotherhood would love to finish.
Because whether I had absolute proof or not, I knew she was under their control.
“One of my people is missing.” Yeah, sure, Syd. Appealing to Applegate’s softer, gentler bitch would really get me what I wanted. “She’s being held against her will.” Maybe. If Isabelle was right. “I need to rescue her.” After Charlotte left, purposely not telling me where she went or why, clearly not wanting my help. My back teeth groaned as I clenched my jaw against my next words. “I was about to come see you. To submit a request to search for her.”
Liar, liar.
Applegate’s lips scrunched into a cruel smile. “Request denied.”
Grumble, mumble. “Her life is in danger.”
The smile widened. “Request denied.”
B.I.T.C.H.
“I’ll be dealing with sorcerers,” I said, shaking a little from the effort it took to resist screaming at her. But I would not back down. Would. Not. “Since you have no jurisdiction over sorcery, you can’t stop me.”
“If you’re in my territory,” she snarled, “request denied.”
Oh. My. Freaking—
“Council Leader.” Sunny’s power rippled as her own temper rose. “You are being unreasonable.”
How much of Margaret Applegate remained and how much was Brotherhood? I wished at that moment I could help her, really, truly did. For, as Sunny spoke, I saw the first sign of what I recognized in Mom not so long ago: the way her power fought her, how she struggled for control, her round body dipping slightly as her magic writhed, so much the toes of her practical shoes almost touched the ground. Proof enough for me, if not for others.
Confirmation, absolute confirmation, she was under the Brotherhood’s control. And was fighting them just like Mom did.
Only she didn’t have me to free her, to give her back her own magic, a talisman like the pentagram necklace Mom gifted me when I was a teenager. The very one which broke her from the hold of the dark sorcerers. I watched with a sinking heart as Margaret Applegate battled for control.
And lost.
Inevitable, really. If my mother, the most powerful witch I knew, outside myself, couldn’t defeat the Brotherhood’s hold, there was no way Margaret Applegate could manage it. At least, not alone.
I really need to try. Not just for Charlotte’s sake, but for all of ours. Mom was planning a giant conclave of all the world territories this coming summer, but it might be too late by then. I understood her reasoning. She wanted everyone in one place, to check all of the Council Leaders for Brotherhood influence, but waiting another six months could mean the difference between winning and losing this war with the sorcerers.