by Jaci Miller
Brannon and Tauria waited in the clearing when they emerged, three sizable black duffel sacs filled with weapons lay at their feet.
“Tauria enchanted most of them,” Brannon said proudly. “They will recognize magical blood, new or ancient. The blades of the swords will not break nor dull and I honed them on a whetstone, so the edges will slice through bone. The arrows too will find their mark and can be effortlessly retrieved with a simple command.”
“Good.” Sebastian pulled at his goatee. “We hope the witches of this world will come bearing battle magic and weapons but if not, those will suffice.”
“And you look better than when we last saw you,” said Brannon addressing Killenn who was tying Marlee to one of the trees near the clearing’s entrance.
He shrugged. “Elyse’s earth magic is commendable. My ribs have healed, and the bruising is fading. Now if I can just get your friend to hold his tongue about saving my life.”
Rafe grinned. “Just a little ribbing until yours healed.”
Killenn groaned and shook his head. “I have no idea how you put up with him, for centuries no less.”
Brannon shrugged. “He grows on you.”
“Like an ancient fungus.”
The three warriors laughed.
Sebastian observed the younger warriors as they casually interacted. An easy comradery had formed between them as the events of the past months drew them closer. They had each other’s backs, a brotherhood born from old customs and new beginnings. He had enjoyed the same friendship with Claaven, and it was something he would always miss.
“The portal,” Elyse said and pointed to the Elder Oak.
Cracks in the bark began to glow with a faint red light. Diego barked and circled the tree. The light moved up and down the trunk until a spiral of liquid fell from a gnarled branch and spun idly on the ground. Embers and lava churned upward forming a fiery red portal from Kaizi.
Drow emerged first with Stevie a few steps behind.
He smiled when he saw Killenn. “You are well.”
It was a statement of relief more than a question, but the warrior nodded anyway. “I am very well.”
They hugged until Killenn pulled away. His brow crumpling as he took a step back and gazed at his old friend. Leaning to the right he looked at Stevie who raised a brow in question.
He straightened trying to stifle a grin. “You have spent your time in Kaizi well.”
Drow’s face remained passive as he ignored the warrior’s inference. “The poppy fields are in full bloom. We managed to harvest enough to make the potions and elixirs we require. Stevie has already started.”
He raised a tote and glass tinkled inside.
“This is good news,” Sebastian said pulling Killenn aside as the others greeted each other and discussed plans.
He grinned. “You observed it as well.”
“What?”
“The change in Drow’s aura.”
“Because of Stevie, yes.”
“I am happy for him. Drow has been so lost and lonely since the Great War, it is good to see him open his heart again.”
“I just hope it does not influence his decisions during the battle.” He glanced at Rafe as he said those words.
“You know the royal diplomat, not the fierce Velkia warrior. Trust me when I say Drow will do what he must, to end the ancient dark’s rise at all costs. And so will Rafe.”
Sebastian clasped the warrior’s forearm and then walked back to the middle of the clearing gathering everyone’s attention. “Kai confirmed the date on her speaking device.” He indicated the cell phone she held in her hand. “It is the morn of the nineteenth and almost daybreak. We have five days until the full moon rises.”
Rafe interjected. “We need somewhere to go. A safe place to make our plans,”
“I have a key to Dane’s but it’s possible Lucien might too.” Kai shifted uncomfortably avoiding Rafe’s gaze.
“I think Stevie’s is the obvious choice,” said Gabriella. “It is quiet, private, and close to the old mill, no one should come looking for us there.”
“Gabby it’s your place as well.”
Gabriella lowered her head at Stevie’s words.
“The sun will be rising soon. Let us make haste while we still have the cover of darkness,” Sebastian said gathering up some bags.
“What of the portal?” Rafe indicated the gnarled Elder Oak. “We must protect Thanissia.”
“Agreed. I will lock the portal to the Five Realms, but I am afraid if the night does not go as we hope the ancient dark will find a way through.”
Placing his palm against the tree’s trunk he murmured an incantation. The white light swirling under the bark dimmed and went dark. The leaves stopped rustling and the Elder Oak quieted.
“It is done.”
As the others gathered the remaining satchels and loosened Marlee’s binds, Rafe pulled Sebastian and Gabriella aside. “Can you feel her for I cannot?”
“No. Maybe she is not in Brighton Hill yet,” said Gabriella. “I will contact Celeste and Nathan when we get back to Stevie’s, see what they know. She may still be in the city.”
Rafe’s shoulders slumped. “I should still be able to feel her and so should you.”
Sebastian knew he was right. After the final Druidstone in Athir was reignited, the elemental flow of magic throughout the Thanissia Universe had intensified. As an extension of the ancient realms, a modicum of that power had infused the earth. While the magic here would never rival that of Thanissia, there should be enough to heighten both their senses.
He turned his pale green eyes to Rafe, his voice barely a whisper. “You must be willing to accept the possibility that she is unreachable. That the darkness has taken hold.”
Rafe shook his head. “Dane is strong, stronger than many of us. I will not accept that darkness is her true destiny. It must not be for that would mean all we believe and everything we will fight and possibly die for, will be for nothing.”
“Then let us hope she finds that inner strength promptly. But if not remember the words Seri left for you.”
Rafe’s eyes sparked but he nodded anyway.
Sebastian had known Rafe for a very long time and knew how difficult this was for him. It was not in his nature to do nothing. He was a warrior. His vow to The Warlician Order meant laying down his own life in protection of others. Being bound to Dane would intensify those instincts tremendously, yet he may have to defy them in order to save her.
He thought about Seri and Claaven—history must not repeat.
Only Dane can save herself.
As Adaridge said, Dane must find the light within and conquer the darkness alone.
Chapter 27
Lucien stared at the sleeping form of Dane.
His sexual energy swirled around him as his body ignited in desire for the witch. Never had he wanted anyone more or to possess someone so completely. But his unabated desires would have to wait. For now, he required her rage, not her passion. Diluting the anger simmering inside her so that he could fulfill his own innate sexual needs was both selfish and detrimental.
Absently, he rubbed the bulge in his jeans. In five days, he will have her. He’ll take her in his bed and stoke the fires of desire until she’s a wanton seductress, his queen. Sex and power, they’ll be consumed by it and together they will rule a world of dark magic. In the meantime, he must find a release—the incubus must be sated.
He turned out the lights and left her sleeping in a dreamscape of his making. Her dreams were dark, violent images feeding the anger and torment. He needed to cleanse her of the good, of the light, so she would not just embrace the darkness but become it. Only then would Dane be wrath and be able to free the beast from its magical confines.
Same as the last few nights he went to the bars in search of sexual prey. He might n
ot be able to have Dane but in the interim, his natural instincts wouldn’t allow him celibacy. He’d feed his needs with faceless women until the time came when he could complete his sexual possession of his queen.
The bar was dimly lit when Lucien entered. The interior was thick with the smell of stale beer, cigarettes, and sweat. It was after midnight and a few patrons were left inside, two men playing pool and one at the bar his head on his arm. His eyes scanned the room. The lone female in the place was the bartender, a waif of a girl with hair dyed blue, tattoos, and a nose ring.
She would have to do.
Walking to the bar he caught the girl’s eye.
“What can I get you?” she asked leaning over the bar top, her hand resting next to his.
He smiled and ran his fingers over the back of her hand and up the tattooed skin of her arm. His gaze never wavered as he enticed her into a state of acceptance. When the familiar glaze clouded her eyes, he backed away from the bar and without saying a word walked to the bathroom, knowing she would follow.
The moment she walked into the bathroom, he grabbed her and locked the door. Bending her over the sink, he pulled up her short jean skirt and ripped the thin thread of fabric underneath. Undoing the zipper on his jeans with one hand, he held her small body with the other. He pushed himself inside her caring nothing for the flesh he invaded just the release that it would offer. As he thrust himself deeper, he caught sight of himself in the stained dirty mirror. His eyes glowed a bright, fiery red. Small beads of sweat covered his brow, and his muscles rippled under his shirt with each incensed thrust. He wrapped his fingers into her long blue tresses pulling her head back. A satisfied smile played on her lips as she moaned out her pleasure. He sneered at the sight thinking instead of Dane as he emptied himself inside her. This girl paled in comparison. Disgusted, he removed himself and pulled up his jeans uttering something in her ear. In a few moments, she would remember none of this.
He unlocked the door and walked back through the smoke-filled bar. No one even looked his way as he headed out into the night.
Weak humans, he thought. They don’t deserve the power they’re about to behold.
A smile crept over his lips as he walked through the shadows.
The Tierney name would once again be his. He would rule over these worthless humans, a Callathian by his side. Soon he would have his revenge. He would condemn this world to hell and destroy the ancient realms forever.
Fitfully she tossed and turned as her mind careened through a world of hate, prejudice, greed, lies, and deceit. Dark and disturbing dreams haunted her. People were tribal. They didn’t care about one another. Humans were programmed to fail, fail in humanity, in empathy, in kindness. There would always be wars, murders, crimes against one another. In the end, they would destroy themselves and this planet. They didn’t deserve to be saved for they would neither appreciate it nor change.
Her eyelids flickered as another image exploded in her mind. This time it was of the future. A future where mankind was no longer free, and the world was ruled by those who could wield the magic once again vibrant in this world. It was a place of order. A hierarchy that diminished the need for wealth, power, stature, and greed. Those with magic ruled at the top and those without existed to serve.
Over and over the dreams pummeled these ideas into her mind and slowly she began to acquiesce to the idea that mankind needed the prophecy to fail.
Alistair stood in an alleyway hidden behind a dumpster. He was invisible, just another nameless, faceless, derelict in a large city. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark as they searched the skyscraper across the street his senses pulling his gaze to the top.
There.
A corner office drew his attention. The windows were dark, but he knew the man would return.
This is where he felt safe and powerful.
He was patient, he would wait.
It’d taken Alistair awhile, but he was able to track the magic used to incapacitate Ella Watts to an unlicensed alchemist hidden in the sewers of New York City. It was quite easy to extract information from him once he realized the Syndicate did not follow the same rules as the Coven. The alchemist had confirmed his suspicions. Two elixirs were used, one to immobilize and one to sedate. Ella Watts was effectively put into an anesthetic comma before she was eviscerated—thankfully she felt nothing.
It took the alchemist a little longer to reveal who ordered the hit. But after Alistair adjusted his persuasion tactics, he revealed everything. The witch who hired him was hired by another, a man of importance. He received instructions to mix the elixirs in accordance with specific recipes, but the formulas were unusual, and some ingredients had been difficult to find.
What interested Alistair was one of the elixirs was a delicate concoction that wouldn’t taint the blood it was injected into. Further, the alchemist had been instructed to hire a magical engineer to design a vessel that could carry a liquid warmed to a specific temperature, and then he was to leave the city never to return.
Fortunately for Alistair, although the witch was a talented alchemist, he was terrible at vanishing.
He had helped him with his shortcomings.
No one would ever see the alchemist again.
His gaze drifted back to the entrance of the building. It was late, but a strange quiet hung over the city. He moved to the edge of the alleyway making sure he kept to the shadows.
Tugging at his hood he pulled it further over his face.
A dark figure approached from the left, and he shrunk back into the darkness. He scrutinized the figure as it entered the building. Minutes later the lights in the corner office illuminated.
Alistair smiled.
Lucien Beck was back.
Chapter 28
Dawn broke over the horizon as Nathan reached the city.
Alistair had resurfaced yesterday and had information, but he refused to discuss anything without Celeste being present. He stressed the importance of a representative of the Coven bearing witness. Nathan had agreed, but something in Alistair’s voice made it seem like he wanted Celeste there for a different reason.
He pulled his car into the garage and took the service elevator up to the top using his private key. A hidden door in the back of the elevator opened, allowing him access to the floor reserved for large meetings of the Coven and Syndicate members.
Alistair and Celeste were already in the conference room when he entered.
“Coffee?” Celeste said holding up the pot.
Nathan nodded. “Please.”
Alistair hovered in the corner looking uncomfortable.
“It’s good to have you back Alistair.”
He hadn’t seen him since the night of Ella’s death. When Alistair hunts, he disappears, only in contact with Nathan or other members of the Syndicate if necessary. Being part daemon, he’s become comfortable with solitude even craves it. In a world of magic, Alistair is an outcast.
There are few daemons living above the surface, most choosing to exist below in the realms of the underworld where they’d once been vanquished. A handful of daemons, mostly half-breeds, have assimilated into the magical community but it doesn’t make them any less ostracized. Prejudice has a way of weaving its way into the fabric of all societies. Although accepted by the Syndicate and the Coven, Alistair still lives under the stigma his kind evokes, so when he gets the chance to hunt, he does so alone.
He moved toward Nathan. “It’s good to see you as well.”
His golden eyes flicked to Celeste who nodded.
Sighing he continued. “I found the alchemist who mixed the potions used on your wife, Nathan.”
He paused waiting for a reaction, but Nathan kept his expression neutral. “And did he give you any information?”
Alistair turned away subconsciously rubbing his left hand. “More than he would have liked.”
“I a
ssume by your tone the alchemist will no longer be breaking the rules of the Coven then.” Consequences were harsh and swift when a magical being broke the rules especially if they caused the death of another.
Alistair turned back toward Nathan. “He is no longer a problem. But the one who hired him still is.”
Nathan flinched. “Hired him?”
Celeste intervened, her tone soft and caring. “Nathan, Ella was murdered for a very specific reason and the person chose her specifically for what she possessed—a unique item.”
“Which is?” Nathan tensed, his jaw rigid.
“Her blood.”
Nathan leaned on the conference table as a wave of nausea rushed through him. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, and he rubbed it away with the back of a shaking hand. “He needed a healer’s blood.”
“Yes.”
There was only one reason anyone required a healer’s blood—a blood pact. Nathan raised his head, his green eyes full of fury. “It was Lucien Beck, wasn’t it?”
Alistair shifted his weight but the sorrow in his eyes confirmed Nathan’s question.
“Why?” he whispered.
“He required her blood to perform a ritual that enabled him to control the ancient dark. It is an ancient ritual and one that uses dark magic. Without a healer’s blood, his soul would have been consumed swiftly. Your wife’s blood keeps Lucien Beck on the side of the living, so to speak.”
“But why kill her? He could have taken her blood and left her alive.”
Celeste glanced at Alistair before speaking. “He required a power source. An emotion so dark it would control the beast. He needed wrath. Pushing Dane toward the darkness through anger would consume her and her powers. Ella’s death enabled him to get the blood he required and the wrath.”
“So, my wife was a sacrifice to enable Lucien Beck to gain control of an ancient evil being. To what end?”
“We believe Lucien wants to bring magic back to this world. Not the way it is now. He no longer wants magical beings to operate within the shadows and tunnels of the city, he wants magic to rule the world.”