Reckoning (The Arotas Trilogy #2)

by Amy Miles

  “The sun has set,” she whispers, staring at the final wisps of twilight as they fade into black.

  Fane nods, pulling her into his embrace. “I promise we will get your friends out of the castle.”

  Roseline leans back to look up into his rugged face. How many times have they shared a moment just like this, on the eve of battle? Wondering if Fane would make it out alive?

  It was no secret that Vladimir always assigned Fane the most dangerous tasks. He claimed it was because he trusted Fane the most. Roseline highly doubted trust had anything to do with it.

  “This is the first time we have ever fought side by side.” He smiles wanly. His fingertips brush along her jawline, pushing her hair behind her ear.

  She leans in to his familiar touch, closing her eyes to the memories it dredges up. She gently pulls his hand away, and tucks her fingers into his. “I’ve got your back this time.”

  He grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I like the sound of that.”

  Roseline rolls her eyes and punches him playfully on the shoulder. Things might still be awkward between them, but it is nice to see some of the old Fane return.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I got you something,” he grins, pulling away from her. He ducks down beside a chair and returns with a small black box.

  “I didn’t realize it was my birthday,” she says, running her fingers over the lid.

  “It’s just a little something I thought you might need.” Fane shoves his hands in his pockets as he waits for her to open the gift.

  Roseline peers at him for a second longer, trying to weigh out the meaning behind his gift. She rips off the lid and laughs. Her delicate fingers pull out a black harness for her swords. The aroma of new leather rises from it.

  “It’s perfect.” She pulls him into a hug, breathing in his familiar scent. Her heart clenches. “Thank you.”

  “Sorry to break you two up,” Malachi calls, motioning for them to approach. A large map of the castle spreads across the top of a dark cherry wood desk. The corners curl slightly from being rolled in an airtight container - Sorin’s personal collection for future use. “I think we are ready.”

  Fane holds Roseline’s hand as they join the small huddle. Nicolae pushes his head back to speak to Grigori, his second in command during his absence. Malachi surveys the blueprints of Bran Castle with great intensity, as if memorizing every detail.

  “Nicolae’s men will enter through the passage at the rear of the castle and arrive in the courtyard here and here,” Malachi says, pointing to two hidden locations. Roseline nods in agreement. It is unlikely that Vladimir will have anyone posted at these points. He won’t be expecting Roseline to arrive with an army of hunters at her back.

  “Grigori will lead a small group through your secret passage located in the inner courtyard,” Nicolae says, taking over the lead from Malachi. His finger runs along an invisible passage not shown on the map.

  Grigori frowns, staring hard at Roseline. His slightly crooked nose still bears the bruising from their last encounter in this house. “You are sure of this route?”

  “Yes.” She nods, pointing to the access hatch to her room on the fourth floor. “This is where you will come out. The stairs are at the end of this short hall, they will lead you to the lower terrace. You and your men can bunker down there and wait for the battle to begin.”

  “And what is your plan then?” Grigori asks.

  Roseline smiles. “I plan to walk right through the front door.”

  ***

  The air is blissfully cool against her skin as they approach the castle. Every floodlight, sconce and candle appears to have been set alight, casting an eerie glow through the low-lying fog.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Fane mutters, mounting the steep incline that leads to the entrance of the castle.

  Roseline nods. Vladimir’s lighted welcome feels wrong. It is too cocky. It will draw the attention of the humans. This sets her nerves on edge.

  She keeps her pace steady, eyes focused on the arched double doors at the top of the stairs. She refuses to acknowledge the slight tremor in her hands as her foot lands on the top step.

  As Roseline reaches out to knock on the door, she feels pressure against her elbow. Malachi turns her toward him. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can still turn back.”

  “I’m not leaving my friends.”

  “No,” he shakes his head, “but you don’t have to be here for them to be rescued. Go back to Nicolae’s home. Wait for us there.”

  Roseline grinds her teeth. “Do you think I am a coward? That I fear entering my own home?” His words chase away her doubts, provoking her rebellious nature into action.

  “Of course not,” he amends, “I just don’t want to see you harmed.”

  Fane growls at the tender caress of Malachi’s voice. Nicolae shifts uneasily but remains silent. Malachi does not flinch as his gaze remains steady, far too intimate for Roseline’s liking.

  “I appreciate your concern,” she says, before turning away, “but I am tired of running from Vladimir. It ends tonight.”

  Her knock resounds deep within the castle halls. Malachi sighs, resigned. “I was afraid you would choose this.”

  Roseline glances at Fane. He offers her a tight smile as his fingers curl around the spiked mace in his hand. On his other side, Nicolae looks fierce, determined. He clings tightly to his crossbow, a quiver of arrows hugs his back while a sword hangs from his side. Roseline grins. She has no doubt he will roll a few heads tonight, for Sadie.

  She rotates her shoulders, feeling the reassuring weight of her swords latched to her back. Malachi shifts from foot to foot, his unease evident in his jerky movements.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Worried?”

  He snorts. “We are walking into a den of rabid wolves and you make jokes.”

  “Of course,” she says, rapping her fist a second time against the thick wooden door. It groans in protest. She turns to face Malachi, her eyes alight with battle lust. “Vengeance is supposed to be fun.”

  The clack of high heels on stone snaps their heads forward. Malachi twirls his twin blade battle-ax in his hands. Its razor sharp edges glint silver in the light from the black metal sconce overhead. The door creaks open. Brilliant floodlight spills from the space beyond.

  “Celina,” Roseline says through gritted teeth. The redhead looks like a life-size porcelain doll when she opens the door. From her ruby red lipstick against smooth ivory skin to the short leather mini skirt cupping her perfectly formed backside. Her eyes light up as she sees Fane behind Roseline, but he glowers back. A small pout arrests her glossed lips until she catches Nicolae’s scent.

  She drops into a crouch, snarling at Roseline but refusing to shift her gaze from Nicolae. “You brought a hunter with you?”

  “He’s an old friend of mine.” Roseline grins at Celina’s fury.

  For over two centuries, Celina and Roseline have butted heads. Celina wanted Fane. Fane wanted Roseline, and she was stuck in the middle. More than once, Celina has tried to out Roseline’s secret relationship with Fane to Vladimir.

  It did not end well for Celina. Now, Vladimir has chosen her to be the one to open the doors. Interesting.

  Nicolae raises his crossbow, aiming at the center of Celina’s heart, as a low growl rumbles in her chest. Roseline places a hand atop Nicolae’s. “Now is not the time.” She glares down at the girl. “Trust me, she’s not worth the effort.”

  Celina snarls and leaps at Roseline. Her eyes bulge as Fane leaps between them and clamps a hand around her neck. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You know how much Vladimir is looking forward to greeting Roseline himself.”

  Color drains from Celina’s face as she nods. Fane’s fingers release her neck. He shoves her back, wiping his hands on his pants with disgust as she slides down the wall.

  Malachi snorts from the back row. “Nice friends you guys have.”
/>
  Roseline smirks. “I guess we should show ourselves in.” She steps over Celina, careful to make sure her boot heel digs into the girl’s hand as she passes. Her yelp cuts off when Fane glares down at her as he steps over her.

  “Vladimir is going to kill you,” she shrieks at Roseline’s back.

  “Oh, shut up,” Nicolae grunts, stepping around her legs. She gnashes her teeth at his back.

  Celina’s nostrils flare as Malachi approaches. “What are you?”

  Roseline turns back to watch. Malachi stoops down low as he sneers at the trembling girl. “I’m the one that will gut you if you say another word. Now scram.”

  Celina’s eyes widen. Her legs flail underneath her as she crawls toward the door. Roseline smirks as Malachi rises. “Do you plan on threatening all of my enemies?”

  “No.” He cocks his battle-ax over his shoulder and grins. “I came to fight.”

  “Good.” She turns and walks through the small entry and out into the light. Her heart plummets into her throat. The long flagstone courtyard, laid out in a choppy rectangular pattern, is heavily occupied.

  Through the crowd of immortals, Roseline can just see the well that leads to the secret passage, but there are at least thirty immortals between her and it. The three stairways that lead up to the outdoor walkways on the second level are lined with grim faced immortals. From the terraces above, more lean over the rails to get a better view of her as she approaches.

  The courtyard is lit up like a football stadium. She squints as she searches the crowd. Although she cannot easily see any weapons, she knows they must be there, tucked under robes and latched around hips and back.

  All around, she can see familiar faces, her brethren that reside within the castle walls and those who have immigrated to other countries. So many have been called back for this event. She doubts any will be sympathetic to her cause.

  Her eyes dart around the courtyard, searching for William or Sadie. She cannot find them. Nicolae shifts at her side, his fingers clenching tightly to his crossbow as he scours the crowd.

  There is no sign of Nicolae’s men. Their routes into the castle are cut off. Roseline and her friends are on their own now.

  “Where is Vladimir?” she calls loudly. Her voice ricochets off the white stone walls.

  “I’m right here,” a deep voice rumbles from directly behind her.

  Chapter 35

  Vladimir stalks around Roseline, keeping a safe distance back from Fane’s mace. His blackened eyes drill into her, staring her down, trying to force his intimidating will over her. She merely glares back.

  His long hair is pulled back over his shoulders. His pale skin looks abnormally flushed in the bright lights, an abundance of human blood visibly courses through his veins. His broad frame is draped in black. From his shirt and pants to the formfitting, golden scrolled three-quarter length coat that hangs from his shoulders.

  Vladimir raises his hand in mock welcome. He twirls before his crowd. “The prodigal wife returns.”

  Loud jeers rise from the throng of bystanders. A low growl, like rolling thunder, rumbles in Fane’s throat. Roseline reaches back to place a warning hand on his arm. She expected this. Let Vladimir have his moment. It will be short lived.

  “What? No hug?” Vladimir tsks. “Is that any way to welcome your spouse?”

  “Is this?” she snarls, motioning to his army. Fane and Nicolae press in close beside her. Malachi spins his battle-ax as he slides in behind them. The silver serpent ring on his middle finger clinks against the ax’s metal handle with each revolution.

  Vladimir’s eyes latch onto the ring and he pauses to scan Malachi with curiosity. “You there, you look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”

  “No, but we are about to have the pleasure.”

  With a dismissing wave, Vladimir turns to Roseline. “Don’t you like your welcoming party?”

  He plasters on a fake pout as Roseline glowers back at him but then shrugs indifferently. “No? Well, perhaps we should skip straight to your gifts then.”

  A door on the second floor opens out onto the terrace. Nicolae flinches as an immortal approaches the railing, his arms burdened by Sadie’s limp body. Her head flops between his chest and his arm. Even from here, Roseline can see that both of her eyes are swollen. Bruises and streaks of blood cover her face and neck.

  Roseline breathes a sigh of relief. Nothing appears broken…yet.

  Nicolae cries out as the immortal leans over the railing and drops Sadie. His fingers dig into her arm as Sadie plummets to the courtyard below.

  “No!” Roseline screams. With so many obstacles in her way, she could never reach her friend in time.

  A short, stocky immortal with a handlebar mustache snatches Sadie from the air. Her head bangs against his shoulder as she comes to rest in his arms.

  Sadie’s bleach-blonde hair is matted to her skull. Her sweater and jeans are soiled with grime, and a trail of blood streams down from her neck from a recent bloodletting. Roseline’s veins alight with fire as Vladimir licks his lips at her.

  The stocky man ceremoniously parts the crowd of immortals as he approaches with Sadie. Her body hangs limply over his arms, her wrist falls from his grasp and reveals a patchwork of teeth marks lining her frail arms. Roseline’s heart thuds against her ribcage, her vision tinting red.

  The man bows as he holds Sadie aloft, presenting her to his master. Vladimir’s long white fingers curl through Sadie’s short hair, yanking her head back. Locking his eyes onto Roseline, he dips low and tastes Sadie’s blood. He shivers, grinning up at his wife.

  Fane holds Roseline back as she lunges forward. Her teeth clamp down, piercing her lower lip. “Don’t touch her,” she snarls.

  Nicolae steps forward, his face void of color. “Is she-”

  Roseline fights to hear through the cheering crowd. Hearts thud all around her, creating a chorus of thrumming beats. Roseline zeros in on Sadie’s neck. A faint flutter moves under her delicate skin. Roseline’s lungs expel a breath of relief. “She’s alive.”

  “Not for long,” Malachi mutters darkly, as the crowd begins to inch closer. The scent of Sadie’s blood is sending them into a barely controlled frenzy.

  Roseline’s stomach plummets. The crowd’s eyes have glazed over. They are lost to their bloodlust. “Oh god,” she whispers, turning to look at Nicolae. Once they are done tearing Sadie apart they will turn on him.

  His whole body trembles with rage. His fierce gaze falls on her. “Give me a chance to get to Sadie and I will run.”

  She nods, including Fane and Malachi in her glance. They dip their heads in agreement, clutching their weapons to their chests.

  “Roseline!” Fane cries out as he spies movement over her shoulder.

  Her heads whips around to see William held aloft from the fourth floor terrace. A grimy hand clenches tightly around his neck. “Vasile,” she growls, staring up at Vladimir’s lap dog.

  “What do we do with this one?” he calls down to his master.

  Vladimir waves a hand vacantly toward the upper terrace. “I have no use for him anymore. Toss him.”

  “Fane,” Roseline cries as Vasile’s fingers release their grip on William. Strong arms wrap around her waist. Her vision blurs as he spins her around. Her hair lashes her face as he launches her into the air.

  Roseline soars over Vladimir’s outstretched hand, over the heads of the immortal mob, and snatches William only a few feet from the ground. Curling her arms around him, she twists and slams into the wall, taking the brunt of the impact.

  Together, William and Roseline crash to the ground. Her head slams into the stone and spiraling stars mingle with the starry expanse above the castle grounds.

  William curls inward on himself, moaning. Roseline ignores the shooting pain in the back of her skull and pulls herself to him. “Are you ok?”

  He gasps for breath as Roseline pushes him back up against the wall. “Sure, never better,” he grunts.

  A tin
y smile twinges at the corner of her lips. Same old William. “I swear I will get you out of this.”

  She stumbles as she rises to her feet. Her spine aches in protest as she stands upright. Roseline plants her feet, creating an immoveable barrier between her and William.

  Vladimir tosses Sadie carelessly aside to face Roseline and she nose dives to the ground. A cry wrenches from Nicolae’s throat as her nose grinds into the stone. Vladimir claps his hands as he walks toward Roseline, leaving Sadie behind, forgotten.

  “Brilliant rescue, my dear,” he taunts. Immortals flee out of his path, giving him a straight shot to his wife. “Too bad you have only prolonged the boy’s fate.”