“I’ll show you circumspection, Mhachkay. Back the fuck off. Now!”
“Georgia,” Samson said, sounding resigned. “He can communicate telepathically with his familiar. He wishes to be able to communicate with us.”
Gigi glared at her mate and then turned that glare on Hakan.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“And miss this?” Hakan offered, waving a hand at Georgia’s red eyes.
She hissed. Hakan laughed. Samson sighed.
“He can come with us, Bahar,” Samson acquiesced. “But then we are even.”
Hakan inclined his head.
“Great!” I announced. “It’s all settled. The night grows short.”
“Ellie,” Georgia whispered, stepping forward. “We will find him.”
I swallowed thickly and nodded at my friend.
She reached forward and wrapped me up in a hug. Georgia wasn’t big on touching. Her Dark Shadow was the prickly sort. But occasionally the Nosferatin in the Nothus won out. And right then, her Light shone and wrapped me up, just as securely as her arms did.
“Take care, Nosferatin,” she said.
“You, too,” I murmured in reply.
Her eyes flashed back to red. The Dark Shadow flickered before me; clawed, fanged, black as death.
“We will meet again in Paris, little one,” it said.
“Paris,” I agreed with a nod of my head.
She stepped back and turned away. Samson nodded his head and followed her. Ediz looked at Hakan, something was shared between them, and then the Erbörü was following in their wake.
“How do we get there?” I asked, watching my friends as they skirted fallen masonry in the courtyard and eventually faded into the shadows of the night.
A boat clanked down on the coast. Sea salt hung on the air from the Aegean. Someone laughed when a door creaked open. A cat slunk across the rooftops, chasing a mouse.
“I will take us,” Hakan said.
“What do I need to know?” I asked him, finally turning to face my Savaşçı.
“I can prepare us for Adrianople, but I cannot prepare us for the Light Fey.”
“They’ll be there.”
“The Kral will insist on their protection. He is still weak.”
Not as weak as I’d have liked.
“Where the hell is Goran?” I muttered.
A flash of Light appeared before us, the smell of ozone on the air. The Hyrða guard stepped through the rip in space into Istanbul as if it wasn’t even there.
I snorted. Ask, and ye shall receive.
“Lady Ellie,” the Dark Fey greeted.
“Have fun?” I asked.
“The King has confirmed a new House rules Ljósálfar. War has begun.”
I sighed. “When are you lot not at war with the Ljósálfar?”
He blinked at me. I was guessing all the questions were throwing him off. But I’d done my fair share of Fey politics. With Goran, I was prepared to poke the bear and then cut its head off.
“This war is now official,” he said, and with that answer accepted his fate. I’d be asking questions and not repaying the debt for as long as Aliath assigned him to me.
Poor bastard.
“Adrianople,” I said. Edirne. Whatever. “Let’s do this.”
“Hold my hand,” Hakan instructed.
I reached out and grasped his larger one. His fingers laced with mine; callouses scraping against callouses. We were a good match.
The air shimmered. The sea salt scent disappeared. The world warped and then came into sharp focus. Hakan and I hadn’t even taken a step forward, and yet we appeared in a copse of trees, the silence of night surrounding us; the smell of wet grass and rotting vegetation wafting up to meet our noses. Goran stepped through a portal at our side. I guessed I had the Fey equivalent of a homing beacon somewhere on me. The Hyrða would be able to find me no matter where I was.
I was used to such tactics and right now didn’t have the heart to fight that particular losing battle; somewhere ahead of us were vampires. A lot of vampires. And they all had the distinct feel of the Mhachkay to them; their signatures matching the vampire at my side.
“I am home,” Hakan said softly.
I heard the ache in his heart. I could sense the welcome and relief he was feeling. As well as the loss and disappointment that was wrapped up in this place.
“How far away are they?” I asked.
“Some distance yet,” Hakan advised. “The Kral will have posted sentries. I have placed our arrival outside of his usual boundaries.”
“How do you plan to do this?” I asked, just as Goran pulled his swords, but thankfully didn’t light up the shadows with a flame. “What is it?” I whispered, drawing my Svante. Hakan held his Kilij already in his hand.
“Ljósálfar.”
Damn it! The Kral might have been predictable, but the Light Fey were not.
“How many?” I hissed.
He held up a hand, spreading his five gauntleted fingers wide.
Five against three. Not such bad odds.
I rolled my head on my shoulders, then flicked my wrist, swinging my blade and loosening up.
Hakan did a modified movement with his sword. Goran held his in both hands before him, eyes closed, nostrils flaring. He turned slightly to the right. Then back to the left again. And then he spun and faced our back.
We turned with him.
Goran cocked his head. Hakan stepped away lightly, no doubt intending to flank them. I glanced up into the branches overhead. If we’d been spotted already, then they would have sounded the alarm. But I couldn’t sense panic amongst the Mhachkay behind us. However, if Goran could sense them, then they could probably sense him in return.
I spun, my booted foot connected with a nearby tree trunk. One, two, three bounding steps up, and I made the lowest branch. I jumped and hopped to the next one, and the one after that until I was hidden amongst the thick leaves overhead. I wrapped my Light cloak around me, careful to keep every ounce of Light it had contained. The Light Fey would be attracted to it, and no doubt to anything that made me suitable as a Mœðr.
I wasn’t sure I was one, but Prince Terrin had taken great delight in telling me I would be his. Right before Hakan had sucked him dry and left only a husk on the floor of the prince’s throne room.
Vampires were possessive at the best of times; Hakan was no exception to that.
The sound of a whistle pierced the air. Goran’s swords lit with a flame from hilt to tip. They’d spotted him. Three Ljósálfar entered the small clearing we’d arrived in. They spread out as soon as they saw Goran waiting.
They were steeped in Dark, but underneath it all was something else. Something red and rotten, wet and wild. I wrinkled my nose as the ribbons inside my stomach twisted and turned.
Corrupted. The Ljósálfar had lost their precious Ljós.
One spoke in Fey. I didn’t have a handy-dandy translation for it. I held my breath, wondering where the other two fairies had gone to and watched.
Goran said nothing in reply to their questions.
The closest Fey, all shimmering golden hair and porcelain skin, pulled his sword in a swift, practised movement. The other arrogant bastards did not. I smiled.
Goran nodded his head, almost a bow of respect. Fey fought strangely and yet honourably.
Too bad I was not of the same mindset.
Metal rang out against metal, but I was aware of the Fey ward that had been erected around us. Hakan was outside of that ward. But so were the other two fairies. My Savaşçı hunted. I sat still and waited for Goran to even the odds. If the Light Fey were prepared to fight him one on one, and not gang up on him all at once, then I’d take advantage.
They didn’t know I was here. They hadn’t even looked up. Idiots.
The fairies spun and danced, their movements like a ballet filled with complex magics. Occasionally their eyes shone that impossible to resist green, and I had to look away. They weren’t even tryin
g to capture me and yet their lure was so strong. Hiding out in a tree wasn’t my idea of fighting, but the part of me that had been raised by the Iunctio held me back for the right moment; helped me fight the draw to bow down and kiss their feet.
The moment came when Goran landed a fatal blow. The Ljósálfar who had drawn the short straw and fought Goran first staggered. His free hand went to his stomach, but no amount of holding himself together would keep his guts from spilling out.
I gathered myself in a crouch and then dropped down behind the rear guard, swiping with my Svante as I landed. The fairy spun and shouted. The parasite within him raged. His companion was momentarily distracted, allowing Goran to go in for the kill. I ignored their battle and concentrated on my own; our swords clashed, my Light blazed.
Sparks rained down all around us; metal screeched, blood dripped onto the leaves on the ground. The fairy cocked its head, not showing an ounce of discomfort, despite the fact that I’d used him as a convenient pin cushion. Did they no longer feel any pain?
I lost track of Goran and his final opponent. The fairy before me ramped up the green in his eyes. I pulled on more of my Light and offered the douchebag a smirk. Metal rang. Light clashed. Green eyes kept calling.
I ignored them.
“Enchanted,” the Fey whispered, stunned.
He fell to his knees before me, making me take a step back.
Goran sliced through his neck from behind in the next heartbeat. The fairy’s head rolled over three times before it came to a stop.
I blinked up at the Hyrða.
“He’d stopped fighting!” I snapped.
“He was sending out a call for help.”
Oh. Bloody fairies.
“Did it get out?” I asked.
“Yes,” Goran bit out. “But not the reason for his request for help.”
That was something at least.
The ward had fallen the moment the last fairy did, so I gathered they’d wanted the altercation to go unnoticed. Were relations between the Ljósálfar and Mhachkay not as smooth as we’d expected, then?
The soft sound of feet falling came from behind me. I only heard them because he wanted me to. I turned and faced Hakan, two dead fairies in his grasp.
“An alarm went out,” I told him.
“I heard it,” he said, dropping the bodies next to ours.
“If you did…”
“Then the Kral and his people did as well,” he finished for me.
I swore softly. There went our element of surprise.
“Suggestions?” I asked.
Hakan smiled. “We storm them.”
My father would have been appalled. I just grinned back.
So fierce. So strong. So mine.
And probably about to get us killed.
That thought, though, didn’t stop me running after him; Svante out, Light blinding.
May the goddess help us. This was going to be a mess.
8
It Made Me Mad
The castle was in the centre of Edirne. I thought it might have been a mosque more recently. Now it was once again occupied by the Mhachkay. Four thick stone walls surrounded it and kept the riffraff out. Strategic arched windows dotted the sides beneath square crenelations along the top; the openings wide enough for an arrow or spear to be launched from. Or maybe a burst of Light if you were of that persuasion. A large dome dominated the main building; smaller copies pinpointed important sections of the structure. Rising high into the night sky were four enormous cone-topped spires; the fact they still stood in post-apocalyptic Norm society spoke volumes. What had to have been beautiful gardens, at one time, surrounded three sides of the massive complex. The fourth side hid the only visible entrance behind a drawbridge. It would have looked beautiful in daylight. Under the stars, it was divine.
Light gleamed from the small windows dotted across its face. Fire flickered from behind the twenty-foot tall walls, making shadows dance across the pale bricks. Raised voices and shouts of concern could be heard from inside. The alarm had indeed been raised, and they were waiting.
We skirted the castle, bypassing the drawbridge that clearly led to the front door. Our feet made little sound on the crushed-shell pathways in the surrounding gardens, even when we waded through a small stream that ran through the centre of the castle’s courtyard.
I had thought perhaps Hakan would lead us through there; into the castle’s sewer system or something equally as obvious. But perhaps that was why he didn’t. We continued our near-silent journey around the massive structure and came to rest beside a section of the wall that looked no different from any other.
The majestic wall swept high above us; I craned my neck but couldn’t see to the top. If sentries were there, they were watching the surrounding land in darkness. Better for their night vision; not so good for us. I leaned back against the old and worn bricks and watched as Hakan closed his eyes, hands placed shoulder-width apart against the wall, and then he started murmuring. The words were Turkish, but I still understood them.
He was asking for entrance.
Magic swirled. The sound of bricks grating perforated the still night air. Goran threw up a shield, but if someone was standing guard above us, I was certain they’d still hear. The wall before Hakan split and then separated. Rather like an old wizarding movie I’d watched with Georgia back home in Auckland City once. In the wall’s place was a gap no bigger than two feet wide and four feet tall.
Hakan was going to have to squeeze to get in there.
He stared at it for a long time, sweat beading his brow.
“I was a lot smaller when I made this,” he said.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He looked quite pained at the thought of having to push his overly muscular frame into such a close space.
“Who else knows it is here?” Goran asked.
Hakan turned and looked at the fairy and scowled.
“My brother did, but he is long dead.” I hadn’t known he’d had a brother. “I told no one else.”
“But he may have before he died,” Goran guessed.
Hakan said nothing.
“It’s better than the front door,” I muttered and slipped inside before the two of them started bickering loudly.
Cobwebs floated in the air and draped themselves across my face. I swiped them away, feeling long legs skittering. My hand tightened on the hilt of my sword, and I let a little Light out to see by. I’d walked far enough inside the tunnel to be sure I could keep the Light from spilling out behind us.
I could hear Hakan and Goran scraping the sides of the wall, and then what awaited me came into clearer focus. The tunnel was long and didn’t change size as far as I could see. But seeing was difficult. Before me hung in intricate designs a plethora of silky spider webs.
“If someone else knew about this passage,” I muttered, “they sure as hell have not been using it.”
Hakan rested a hand on my back.
“If you had allowed me to go first,” he countered, “I could have dealt with them.”
“You think I’m afraid of a few spiders?” I asked him.
“I believe you fear very little, hayatim,” he said.
That wasn’t true. I did fear things. I just didn’t show that fear if I could help it.
And I wasn’t about to now.
I sent out a broad beam of Light and fried every creepy crawly before me. It was a bit overkill, and I’m sure if someone from the SPCA were around, I’d be getting handcuffed right about now. But…spiders. I shivered as my Light dimmed back to a normal level allowing decent illumination going forward.
Hakan huffed out a breath behind me but said nothing. I knew what he was thinking, though, and it had nothing to do with being able to talk telepathically. He thought I was scared of spiders.
I snorted and murmured, “You try getting cobwebs out of dreadlocks.” Then crept forward.
The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, but because of our hunched gait, it was probably less than th
at. The castle wasn’t big enough for the tunnel to be that long, anyway. Even if it did feel like it was brimming with magic.
Finally, though, it came out into a small cavern. The walls were roughly hewn, but lying about the space were rotted cushions and fraying mats and a couple of oak barrels, dusty mugs sitting atop them.
“Secret stash?” I asked Hakan as he stretched to full height behind me.
He smiled and walked over to one of the barrels. Taking the mug, he wiped it out with the edge of his t-shirt and then twisted the tap on the side of the barrel. The sweet scent of alcohol wafted out. He poured a small amount into the mug and then lifted it to his nose to smell. With a shrug of his shoulders, he tipped the mug back and took a swallow.
His face screwed up into a grimace, but he handed the mug to me anyway.
“Ah, I’ll pass,” I said, shaking my head. “Goddess alone knows what juvenile Hakan brewed in his misspent youth.”
“It’s not that bad,” he argued.
I arched my brow at him and said nothing.
He placed the mug back down and turned to the wall that undoubtedly led into the castle proper. There was no outline of an access way. No hinges or door shaped grooves indicating where something might be hidden. I suspected this was rather like the outside wall and would require magic.
Vampires are filled with Sanguis Vitam. It’s their blood life force. It’s what gives their undead bodies life. It’s a magic of sorts, but nothing like the magic the Mhachkay wielded. I’d seen Hakan use spells before. Mages could of course and shields were common for my kind. But the Mhachkay; they were something else. Their magic was vast and powerful, a deep well brimming with silver water. Bursting with potency and begging for your touch.
I was drawn to it. Perhaps that was the kan büyülü in me. The Mhachkay and the Enchanted were made for each other.
I watched now as Hakan again closed his eyes, hands pressed to the wall, lips moving in a barely there movement as he chanted his request for entry into the castle. This time it took longer. The sweat started to dribble down the side of his temples. His hands shook ever so slightly. I wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him, send some of my Light into him to somehow bolster his reserves. But I was too scared of distracting him and making him have to start from the very beginning again.
Blood Enthralled (Blood Enchanted, Book Three): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series Page 7