by Rye Brewer
Movement on the other side of the room caught my eye. It was Scott, and he was watching me as though he expected something to happen. The intensity of his gaze was disturbing. What was I missing?
Valerius was no longer a threat. That was good to hear—one less menace to be concerned about.
But he wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.
“Fane. I have to talk to you.” I pulled him aside, into the kitchen.
“What is it? I was just on my way out.” His face darkened. “Sirene. Is she well? Where is she? I thought I asked you to—”
“You did, and I did. She’s downstairs, in an unused apartment. The baby’s here and is well.”
He let out a short breath, his eyes wide. “The baby is well? What of Sirene?” He gripped my shoulders, shaking me. “What of Sirene?”
He had never come out and said it, and after that, there was no need to. He loved her. Only a man who truly loved a woman would react the way he had. I would’ve done the same if it had been Anissa whose life was in danger.
I kept that in mind as I spoke to him. “She survived, but I don’t know how much longer she can hold on. She needs a witch to heal her. Too much blood lost, too much… I forget the word Anissa used. She’s ill and fading faster.”
His eyes lit up. “A witch…” He let go of me and rushed from the kitchen, yelling a name I’d never heard before.
“Branwen.”
Who was that? I stepped back into the living room, hoping for some direction. Sirene was dying, and he was calling out a random name. Everyone there seemed to know something I didn’t.
He came back from the hall with a small, black-haired woman I’d never seen before. Was this Branwen? She had the same calm, commanding presence Sirene possessed.
“She’s a caster and a good friend of Sirene’s,” Fane explained, nearly dragging her to me. “Branwen, she needs you. The child has come.”
“The child?” Philippa asked.
“Where is she?” Branwen looked to me for answers.
“Downstairs. She needs help, right away. She survived the birth earlier tonight but is hanging on by a thread now.”
“We must hurry, then.”
I led them out of the penthouse, with hope in my heart for the first time since we’d found Sirene’s blood back at headquarters.
I forgot I’d gone upstairs to get blood for Anissa and me, I was so relieved to have found help, feeding was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t think Anissa would mind going hungry for a little while longer if there was something even more important on the way back with me.
We didn’t wait for the elevator, taking the stairs instead. Scott brought up the rear; I hadn’t expected him to come with us. If anything, I thought Philippa would have. She must’ve considered Vance more important.
I couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t been there for the birth. She didn’t have to care. As far as she and Scott and even Gage were concerned, the idea of our father having a child with a witch might still be anathema. They hadn’t spent the time with Sirene that I had.
They had never held our baby sister, either.
Anissa must have heard us coming in, because she met us outside the bedroom door. Her eyes flew open wide when she saw Fane.
Something passed between them without either saying a word, something that hinted at a deeper understanding I wasn’t privy to.
“She’s in here,” she whispered, stepping aside.
I waited for Fane to enter before following him.
Sirene tried to lift her head from the pillow when she saw him, but he went to her with his hands held up. “Don’t tire yourself. I’m here.”
She was radiant, glowing with joy and pride, though she was gravely pale. “You’ve come. I didn’t think you would make it.” She peered down at the baby, who slept on her chest. “This is your daughter.”
I took Anissa’s hand as we watched Fane ever-so-gently lift the baby from Sirene’s arms.
“My daughter? A little girl. Have you named her?”
She shook her head. “I wanted to wait for you. Though I did have an idea, but I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.” She glanced at me. “Any of you.”
I had an idea—judging from the way Anissa squeezed my hand, I thought she did, too.
“What is it?” Fane stared down at his daughter with such wonder, I couldn’t help the lump in my throat. Like a child discovering something for the first time, instead of a man who’d already fathered four. Perhaps that sort of wonder never faded regardless of how many children a person had. The wonder of new life, innocent and pure.
“Elena.”
Instead of looking at her, Fane glanced at me with his eyebrows raised.
I shrugged. “It seems to suit her.”
He smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?” He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the baby’s face again. Memorizing her. I wondered if he would be part of her life, or if he’d be in and out as he was with us. It was something I hadn’t considered before.
“Fane?” Sirene murmured.
The concern on her face and the way her eyes narrowed led me to fear she was in pain or worse. I realized then she was seeing what I had seen. That something was different.
“Hmm?” Only when he glanced up from the baby did his smile fade.
She sighed. “I thought as much. What happened?”
“You could tell so easily?”
She nodded faintly. “I felt it. You and I are now the same.”
I almost laughed. The same? What was she trying to say? That he was a warlock? He was different, but not that different.
Except… he didn’t deny it.
“Yes,” he admitted. “We are, now.”
“What?” I whispered.
The room seemed to spin around me. It wasn’t possible. Was it? If so, how? Who had done this? It had to be a very powerful creature. Valerius? Had he done it before he died? Just the sort of evil final act he would commit.
I turned to Anissa and expected to see my horror reflected in her face—or at the very least, surprise. There was none. If anything, she looked guilty and avoided my eyes. What was she hiding?
“Sirene, do you have pain now?” Branwen asked, leaning over the bed.
She shook her head. “Jonah and Anissa took such good care of me. I owe them everything. We wouldn’t have our beautiful Elena if it weren’t for them.” Her eyes closed as she finished speaking, a sweet smile still on her face.
Her chest seemed to still.
“Sirene?” Anissa fled to her side.
“There’s no time to waste.” Branwen stepped forward, arms already raised. “All of you, leave us.”
“I want to stay.” Fane handed the baby over to me.
I took her and grabbed Anissa’s hand, bringing both along with me as we left the room, closing the door behind us.
The silence in the rest of the apartment was deafening, full of uncertainty.
The baby slept deeply, satisfied with herself and exhausted after all the excitement of her first day.
Good thing, because there was a discussion I needed to have with Anissa.
I turned to her. “What do you know about Fane?”
26
Felicity
“Is anyone out there?”
I couldn’t help but whimper in pain as I dragged myself to the bars separating my desolate little cell from the rest of the cells around me. There were so many.
All empty. I was the only prisoner.
I wondered if I should feel honored.
My knee throbbed horribly as I rested my weight on my good leg and craned my neck to look as far up and down the corridor as possible. Just like above, in the throne room and the tunnels zigzagging beneath the mountains, lit torches lined the walls.
There were fewer down here, though. That was the difference. There was almost no light.
“Hello? Please? I need help.”
There was simply too much to ask for all at once. Food and drink might have be
en a good start. I’d had none since my arrival; there was no way to tell how long I had been sitting alone in this cold, dark cell.
After that, I needed assistance with my knee. I might have been able to heal it quickly had I been given the opportunity to clean the wound, assess the damage and apply a tonic or poultice. Unfortunately, even my cloak had been taken away. I had none of the bottles and vials I had brought with me.
It was so swollen, I couldn’t bend my leg. So tender, I couldn’t apply more than the barest amount of weight. When, I did, the sensation that I was tearing the underlying muscle made me want to scream. There could even have been bits of stone inside. There was no light for me to see by.
I whimpered again, and, this time, it was frustration and helplessness which tore the sound from my throat. No one cared. I might die of a blood infection without any of them checking on me. What was the purpose of this? Why leave me here to die?
Why not get it over with right away, instead?
I couldn’t muster the strength to hop on one leg across the cell, small though as it was, to sit on the rock-hard cot in the corner. Sitting on the floor was just as comfortable, sadly.
I slid down, gripping the bars to ease myself slowly as I stretched the injured right leg out in front of me.
Of all the ways I’d envisioned this mission turning out, this was nowhere on the list.
Hunger twisted my stomach in knots as I tipped my head back against the bars. How long would it be before they fed me? Had Garan forgotten I was here? Unlikely. My presence was the reason he would use to start a war, after all.
That didn’t mean he had to take care of me or keep me alive. I wasn’t to be used as a bargaining chip, at least that wasn’t how he’d made it sound. He would spread the word I’d been imprisoned and used that as a way to keep others in line lest they consider committing a similar transgression.
What was the purpose of any of it? Gregor would never find out what happened to Tabitha. I would never see Allonic again. A terrible, deadly war would be waged, and I couldn’t even warn my people. All for nothing.
I hung my head as the tears began to flow, tracing hot paths down my dirt-smudged cheeks. There was nothing around me except silence and cold and hopelessness. I had nothing. I would die here, probably fevered and hallucinating as infection caused my body to shut down a little bit at a time.
It couldn’t happen soon enough. I had already lost all hope.
I drifted into a light sleep, dreams and images overlapping in my head. There was no pain, only confusion and guilt. The sense that something terrible was coming. Something I was powerless against. And I was very, very small. Insignificant. A single piece of a much larger whole. The sense of desperation was sickening.
The sound of shuffling footsteps jolted me awake.
I lifted my head, craning my neck again to see who was coming, fighting my way into a kneeling position while my right leg stretched out beside me. “Please. Water. Something.” My voice was a scratchy croak after I’d spent hours crying out for help to no avail.
The footsteps grew louder until a tall figure became visible. The hooded man walked my way, carrying a tray. Saliva flooded my mouth when I caught the scent of fresh bread. I would eat. I didn’t care what it was, so long as it was food.
There was no making out the shade’s face, the hood casting his face in deep shadow. I didn’t care about that, either. The pain in my leg and the clenching of my empty stomach were more than enough to dominate my attention.
“Thank you,” I whispered as he placed the tray on the cot, his back to me. “Is there anything you can give me for my knee? Please, tell Garan I’m afraid it will become infected unless treated right away.”
The shade knelt beside me.
I leaned back, scrambling away, dragging my leg. He clamped a hand over my mouth then used his other hand to lower the hood.
My eyes flew open wide, and I understood why he’d covered my mouth. To silence the shriek of utter joy, relief, surprise.
“Don’t make a fuss. Stay quiet.” Allonic lowered his hand slowly, looking down the corridor to be sure no one had followed.
“Oh, Allonic. I thought… —”
“Here.” He handed me a hunk of bread and cup of water. “I’m sorry, they weren’t going to bring you more than this. I couldn’t risk loading more onto the tray. Someone would have noticed.”
I gulped down the water before digging my teeth into the fresh, warm bread. It wasn’t much, but to me, it might as well have been a banquet. I closed my eyes, relishing the taste.
“I would’ve come sooner,” he whispered, “but I couldn’t risk it. I’ve been watching, waiting for someone to decide you should eat. Finally, Steward spoke on your behalf to the guards.”
“Who’s that?” I whispered, still chewing.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s respected, though. They listen to him. He managed to get this for you then arranged it so I would be the one to deliver it. It’s been two days since I learned you were here.”
“Two days?”
“And at least another or two since you were locked in. I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve come sooner.”
“It’s all right.” What I wanted more than anything, my immediate needs having been taken care of, was him. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to assure me everything would be fine, that no one had to die because of my foolishness.
“What did you say about your knee?” He looked at my covered leg.
“I cut it badly on the way here,” I explained, telling him about the rough treatment I’d received. “I couldn’t do anything about it. They didn’t let me clean it. They took away my tonics. It’s terribly swollen.”
“May I?” he asked, his hand poised above the robe. I nodded, wincing as the mere act of sliding fabric over the throbbing joint sent bolts of pain all through me. His eyes narrowed when he saw the full extent of the damage, muscles jumping in his cheek, nostrils flaring as his breathing grew heavy.
It wasn’t a pleasant sight. The knee had torn open, almost down to the bone. The blood had long since stopped running out, but it had crusted along the wound and all over my leg. The swelling was tremendous, making the joint nearly twice the size of my other knee.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered, trying to lighten to mood. “It only hurts twice as bad as it looks.”
“He allowed this.” His voice reminded me of the hissing of a snake.
“I need to do something for it,” I said. “Maybe you can get your hands on my cloak? All of my tonics are in there. Water would help, of course, and… —”
“No,” he replied with a firm shake of his head. “There’s no way I could make it back in here. No excuse to bring your cloak—if I could even find where they’d put it. If it still exists. Garan knows you’re important. He’s already warned me against trying to get you out.”
He had obviously gone to a lot of trouble and was risking quite a lot to be with me.
“What can I do, then? An infection has likely begun to develop, and it will spread soon.”
He let out a sharp sigh, holding his head in his hands.
Then, he raised his head, his mouth open in surprise as our eyes met.
“Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”
“What?” I glanced from him to the corridor. Just in case.
“The one thing they’ve all held against me throughout my life. The one thing that sets me apart from them—well, the one thing they care about,” he amended, and the fact he sounded almost cheerful baffled me.
“What is it?” I demanded.
He pulled up one of his sleeves. “This.” His claws extended, reminding me he was part-vampire.
And then, I knew, too. Vampire blood.
He opened a thin line in his arm as he drew one razor-sharp claw across his skin. Blood began to seep out of the cut. “Hold still,” he advised, holding the dripping cut over my knee.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what was to come. It would
n’t be painless. I was certain of it. And sure enough, as the torn skin began knitting together and the muscle beneath became whole again, a burning sensation spread through my leg. I gritted my teeth against it, determined not to give us away when we were so close to escaping this terrible place.
“Almost finished,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear. His very nearness was almost enough to drive all thoughts of pain from my mind. He was there. He had come for me. I didn’t have to doubt him anymore.
When it was over and the burning ceased, I was slow to open my eyes. Afraid of what I might find.
“Remarkable.” He smiled, referring to the thin scar running across my kneecap. No swelling. Nothing but dried blood to indicate there had been a recent injury. “Can you move it?”
I could. “It’s just a little stiff,” I marveled. “Thank you.”
He didn’t pull away when I threw my arms around his neck. Then, after a mere moment’s hesitation, he returned my embrace. That was the best of all.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault you’re here,” he murmured, his breath hot on the nape of my neck.
“How is it your fault? You didn’t do this.”
“There’s no time to explain now. We have to get out of here. There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?” He helped me to my feet. I was a bit shaky, weak from days without food, but too happy for it to matter. He still cared for me.
“The exits from the cave have all been enchanted. No one without shade blood can leave or return.”
No one without shade blood. I smiled up at him—the frown he gave me in return told me he didn’t understand yet. “But I have shade blood, don’t I? Right now. Thanks to you.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “Do you think it will work?”
“I suppose there’s only one way to find out. But how will we get out of here, past the guards?” I hoped it would work. It was the only hope I had.
“Don’t worry, I’ve already worked that out. According to the maps, there are two entrances to this section, but only one of them is guarded. There was a cave-in at the other end, long ago, which no one ever thought to clear out. Since the dungeon is so rarely used, I suppose Ressenden considered it a pointless venture.”