League of Vampires Box Set 3

by Rye Brewer

  “Stark! I can’t hold them forever!”

  He nodded, swaying a bit. Had he truly tired himself that badly? His eyes closed, sending a surge of panic shooting through my heart, but it was in concentration rather than any further weakness. Ice shot from his hands as I’d known it could, forming a solid wall between us and the vampire horde who cursed us from behind it. Once it was to his liking, Stark lowered his arms.

  And fell into mine.

  “Stark!” I dropped to my knees under his weight and only then found the cause of his weakness. The blood which soaked into his clothing and dripped to the floor. It came from a wound in his shoulder.

  “Bit… me…” His eyes were only half-open, the lids fluttering as he struggled to maintain consciousness. “I threw him off… but not in time…”

  “No, no!” I whimpered, holding my hand against the wound. A useless gesture, as blood leaked between my fingers, determined to leave his body now that he’d been pierced by fangs. “I won’t let you die. You will not.”

  What was there to do? He was bleeding to death in front of my very eyes, and all I could do was make a weak attempt at holding the wound closed. Some companion I had turned out to be.

  “Go!” he gasped. “Take the blood. She needs it…”

  “I won’t go without you. I cannot! I will not.” My tears fell onto his cheek, which I bent to kiss. His skin was already turning cold. “I will never leave you. Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can.” My senses returned to me, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away until there was nothing left but the two of us. I had to get him away. I had to heal him, or at least to seal the wound before he bled to death. There could be vampires flooding in at any moment from the other side of the passage.

  I held one hand over him, inches from his shoulder, and muttered an incantation to seal the wound shut. Any toxicity which the vampire might have secreted into Stark’s veins would have to be dealt with once we were free and clear.

  “Come,” I grunted, hauling him to his feet with the bag of blood still over my shoulder. “We need to move. Now. Move your feet. Help me.” It was like dragging dead weight nonetheless. The doorway which had seemed so close moments earlier now stretched endlessly away, further with every step.

  Yet we made it, and he did his best to climb the stairs without too much assistance from me.

  The upper floor was chaos, unlike the silence we had entered into.

  “We’ll have to be quick,” I whispered in Stark’s ear. He struggled to keep his head from lolling onto my shoulder, it was clear, but his efforts did little good. “I need you to fight,” I pleaded.

  “I’m trying.” There was life in his voice, at least. He always had enough energy to argue with me.

  I was convinced of my heart’s intent to burst free from my chest as the moments ticked past, each moment taking us closer to our doom. I couldn’t collapse under it. I wouldn’t. Not when Stark needed me.

  “I’m going to march us through this door, into the kitchen, and through to the pantry. We can’t stop for anything. Ready?”

  “Ready,” he groaned.

  To his credit, he managed to find his feet as we darted from the stairwell and straight into the kitchen. I could only hope the shadows had concealed us, that the shouts and cries for vengeance deafened them to the sound of the doors squeaking.

  I helped him through the kitchen—we left a trail of blood on the tile which I was certain someone would smell sooner rather than later—and into the pantry. All we needed to do after that was get into the tunnel and down its interminable length.

  But it did end. It did not stretch on into infinity. We merely had to take one step at a time.

  “We’re almost there,” I tried to smile, letting him lean against the wall as I opened the tunnel door. To my surprise, there was a light switch just inside—it only existed at the house, not at the other end, hence our making the walk through pitch darkness earlier.

  The presence of overhead lights made the return trip easier—even if everything about it was a hundred times more difficult. “We can’t slow down now,” I urged, doing everything I could to move faster in spite of his ever-increasing heaviness. He simply could not support himself any longer.

  I closed my eyes again, pausing only as long as it took to mutter another spell. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, his voice weak and far away. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have no choice but to put you under my thrall for the time being. You’ll do as I command now, and I command you to walk.”

  He moved in jerky steps, but at least he was moving. I still supported him, his arm slung over my shoulders, but I no longer had to drag him. We made better progress this way, and for a moment I had hopes that we would make it without further complication.

  My hope lasted all of three seconds before the door to the pantry burst open behind us. There was no mistaking the ear-splitting sound of shattering wood.

  “Faster!” I gasped, as he limped along behind me. He was doing his best—even under my thrall, he had but so much strength. The door to the outside world seemed hopelessly far away as footsteps rang out behind us.

  I had no choice but to do what I was about to do.

  “Rest here,” I said, leaning him against the wall and taking several running steps away from him, back toward the mansion.

  “What are you doing?” he cried out. “Stop! What do you intend to do?”

  It was too late to reply. Anyway, I reasoned, as I lifted my hands and summoned the energy needed to make the image in my head a reality, he would see soon enough what I intended.

  It started with a low roar, shaking the earth around us, sending dust sifting down onto our heads.

  I could see the vampires rushing toward us, closer with each step, snarling and cursing and vowing to have our heads.

  Then, their screams of surprise. Of pain. Of impotent rage, as the tunnel collapsed in on itself, creating a wall of earth and rock between us.

  “Hurry.” I bore the brunt of Stark’s weight upon helping him to his feet again.

  “You crushed them.” He sounded so young, reminding me of a child gaping in wonder at something beyond his ken.

  “I doubt I crushed many of them,” I admitted. “But I did seal them off. They cannot reach us now. But I cannot breathe easy until you’re home, where we can treat you.”

  “Branwen…”

  “Hush, now,” I pleaded, knowing I would break down and weep if he attempted something noble or kind. I couldn’t bear to hear it.

  “Please, I must tell you.”

  “I can’t hear it. Don’t.” I looked at him, his blood-streaked face, his hair caked in dust which had billowed forth in the wake of the collapse. “Do not. I won’t hear you say it.”

  “I love you,” he insisted, breathless, strained. “I’ve always loved you.”

  “Please, don’t—” Tears ran down my face, hot and bitter, blurring my vision.

  The lights had gone out thanks to the collapse, and there was no telling how much further we had to go. Only when we were off Carver property would I be able to create the portal, and not a moment sooner. The vampires had enchantments in place to keep portals from being created on their land.

  If only we would reach the door.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he insisted, refusing to be silent. The fact that he believed these were his final words brought me more pain than the message he shared. “Your grandfather. Refused me. Threatened Sirene.”

  “What?” That brought me to a stop, against my better judgment. “He what?”

  “Was going to kill her,” he gasped, his eyes hardly open now. He was colder than he’d been before. I was about to lose him.

  “If you stayed with me?” I demanded. “He would kill Sirene if you remained with me?”

  “There was nothing… nothing with Elewyn. I swear it. She was… an excuse. Convenient. But I never cared fo
r her. Only…”

  His head fell to my shoulder.

  “Stark! No! No, please, please, hold on.”

  It was more crucial than ever. He loved me. He always had. My wicked grandfather, member of the Senate, believing himself worthy of sitting in judgment over all others. Controlling me as he’d controlled his grim island.

  I stumbled up the earthen stairs leading to the door and threw all of my weight behind opening it to the outside. It was still far from dawn, though the stars had begun to fade as if in preparation. The cold, crisp air was a welcome respite from the musty, airless tunnel.

  Stark showed no awareness of our being outside. He did not even flinch in the bright, swirling light of the portal once I’d opened it. Had I lost him?

  I could only stumble through the portal and hope for the best.

  22

  Anissa

  I walked the courtyard, back and forth, arms wrapped around me to block out the chill from the sea breeze. It was unusual to feel a chill in the air at Hallowthorn Landing unless a storm blew through. Otherwise, the air was generally warm and pleasant.

  I wondered if some presence surrounding the fortress understood the stress we were under, but that was ridiculous. Or so I needed to believe.

  Maybe it was all in my head. That was easier to accept. I was imagining the change in the air because I was so concerned over Stark and Branwen. “It’s taking too long.”

  Sirene only shook her head, making her black waves tumble around her shoulders. “It isn’t.”

  “I’ve been through that mansion and walked that map step by step more times than I can remember, and I’m telling you it’s taking too long. They ran into trouble. It’s the only explanation.”

  “I have no doubt that if they did, they shall find their way through it. I have the utmost faith in them. My brother is quite powerful. Remember, I brought Sara here to train with him. I would not have entrusted her future to him if I did not trust him.”

  My stomach turned at the mention of my sister’s name. Yes, Sirene had brought Sara here to train with her brother. Look where that had led. But Sirene’s heart was in the right place, and I could hardly blame her for the way things had turned.

  “I should’ve gone,” I argued. “I could’ve stood lookout or something.”

  “And what, my dear, would have transpired if the Carvers found you there? I highly doubt Will Carver would welcome you back into the fold with open arms.”

  I snorted. “As if I would ever accept such an act.”

  “There you are. It would not have gone well for anyone involved. Lena needs her sister-in-law here, looking out for her.”

  I couldn’t help but warm at the reference, even though it made me think of Jonah and the ring on my finger. I loved looking at it, knowing what it symbolized—but boy, did it make me long for him more than ever.

  Lena slept in the basket which Sirene had repurposed for such use. She’d carried the baby around in a sling, either on her back or against her chest, for as long as possible. Now that Lena had grown so rapidly and was still growing all the time, it seemed smarter and kinder to Sirene’s body to find other ways to carry her around and leave her to nap in the shadow of the fortress. Fresh air helped her sleep better, and she loved being outside.

  She was nestled in a pile of blankets, a contented smile on her sweet face. My heart melted as always at the sight of her.

  “It makes me laugh at myself,” I admitted.

  “What does?”

  “The way she’s turned my heart. I was never hard-hearted before, mind you, and I would’ve done anything for Sara.”

  “You did, at that.”

  I shrugged. “She’s my sister. My blood. This little girl, on the other hand…”

  “Not of your blood.”

  “No, but she might as well be. That’s what I mean. I grew up placing blood ties above all else. We were a clan, and our clan hated Jonah’s clan. That was all I needed to know, all many of us were ever taught. The clan was what mattered. The clan needed to go on. Those who were not of our blood might as well pitch themselves off the side of the Empire State Building.” I glanced up at her. “That’s a—”

  “I know what it is,” she chuckled.

  “Of course. Anyway, now? I would move heaven and earth for this little one. It amazes me when I imagine what I would do to protect her. How easy it’s been for her to step straight into my affection.” I stroked the back of one chubby hand. It was so impossibly soft and smooth. So new.

  “Babies tend to do that,” she reasoned. “They are pure and good, and I believe they remind us of what is good and pure inside ourselves. Perhaps that side of our nature wishes to connect to that which they see in a baby. Perhaps it’s nothing more than remembering who we truly are.”

  “I had the strangest feeling about her when she was born,” I admitted. “That she was much wiser than she should be. Like she held all the wisdom of the universe in her tiny head.”

  “I believe she does. I believe we forget over time how wise we are.” She chuckled again, this time wryly. “I’ve done a great deal of thinking about this, in case you could not tell. I’ve done a lot of thinking about a great number of things.”

  Her voice took on a troubled tone, and I turned my full attention to her as I sat on the stone bench, the baby between us. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You are a helper by nature,” she observed, eyeing me up. “That is your gift. Rather than turning your back, telling yourself the troubles of another are no troubles of yours, you jump in headfirst and demand there be a way to make things better. I admire that. I truly do.”

  I couldn’t help but warm a little at her compliments, to the point where a blush touched my cheeks. “Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

  “From me?”

  I blushed harder than ever. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. “You know. I respect you as a person. You’ve already risked so much. To save Fane when he was on the verge of dying, to carry and bear Elena though you knew what it could mean to you. We would all be in terrible shape if it weren’t for you.”

  “And Fane,” she whispered, stroking Lena’s hand like I just had. “He brought me into his world, and I shall never regret following him into it. I told myself when he first asked for my assistance with his children’s troubles that I would not grow attached. They would certainly never welcome me. And they did not, at first. Some of them still haven’t, I’m afraid.”

  “Give it time,” I urged. “If Jonah can come around, they all can. I’m sure of it.”

  “I hope so,” she admitted, and for the first time, she showed a hint of vulnerability. Outside of her delivery, of course, but that hardly counted. Nobody would’ve expected her to pull herself together while she suffered the way she had.

  “Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” I asked. “Scott and Philippa and Gage?”

  “Oh, much more than that.” She rose with an unhappy sigh and started to pace the way I had just finished doing. “What if he doesn’t return? He warned me that his business was dangerous, that he would be away for a good deal of time. What if he can’t return? What if Lena grows up never knowing her father?”

  Her words were like a pin in a balloon, and I was the balloon. She deflated me.

  “I see,” I whispered, slouching forward until my elbows rested on my knees. “I see.”

  “I want her to know him—not merely to hear of his goodness and bravery, but to know him. To be with him, to learn from him the way her brothers and sister did.” She wrung her hands as she walked, frowning more deeply than ever. “I realize that sounds selfish.”

  “It doesn’t. Not at all, believe me.”

  “I only want what is best for her.”

  “I know you do. I would never question that. I can’t imagine that anyone would. You’re a mother. You want the best for your baby. There’s nothing to apologize for or to second-guess. I would feel exactly the same if I were you. Espec
ially since I know what it means to grow up without a father.”

  “Oh, Anissa. I was thoughtless.” Sirene stopped dead in her tracks, her face falling. “I shouldn’t—”

  “No, no, believe me.” I waved my hands. “It doesn’t upset me or anything like that. Not even a little bit. I can relate, is all. I wish I had been able to spend more time with Gregor. I wish I had even known he existed—let’s start there. I didn’t know I was different from the rest of the clan until it was too late to do anything about it.”

  “And now?” she asked, frowning again.

  “Now… I wish I knew him better. I love him, and he loves me. I know that. He officiated my wedding ceremony.” I smiled, looking down at the ring, turning it around my finger and remembering the pride on Gregor’s face that day. “But I can’t help but think about all the time we missed. Time we could’ve spent together. It makes me sad, honestly. I try not to be.”

  “It can’t be helped,” she murmured.

  “No. It can’t. I don’t mean Lena will feel the same way; she’s her own person.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little, looking down at her. “She’ll go her own way.”

  “But with a father’s guidance, her way might be easier.” Sirene joined me, the two of us looking down at the baby who meant so much to us both.

  “We’ll find a way,” I promised. “Fane will come back. I know he would stop at nothing when it comes to his children. He even pretended to be dead for decades, all to protect them from Lucian. And it worked. Even though it caused him pain, even though he must have known how they would come to hate him for it—not understanding why he did it, I mean—he stayed away. He would do no less for Lena should the need arise.”

  “I don’t want him to stay away,” Sirene whispered. “I want him here. With us. While she’s still a child, while there is still time. She’s growing so rapidly. He’s already missed so much, and that weighs on my heart as well.”

  “I know it does.” I took a chance, reaching out to put an arm around her shoulders. She had always struck me as sort of untouchable—again, aside from the complete madness that was her labor and delivery of Elena. Outside of that, she seemed to be above needing comfort and support.