Tomas’ hand landed on mine. Eyes soft, his lips curved. “Handy trick.”
I slipped my hand from under his. “Breandan taught me.”
The smile lightening his heavy brow died. Tomas busied himself washing, his expressions changeful and fleeting. “You’re sad.”
Eyes downcast, I brushed my hands off on my thighs. “I miss him.”
Finished dressing, Tomas studied me before leaning to grab my chin. “Don’t hold onto what he said in anger.”
I stared into his disturbed eyes, and saw he intended only to be a friend in that moment. Relieved to be able to talk about it, my lip wobbled. “He meant it. Every single word, he meant.”
“He’ll forgive you.”
“He won’t.” I winced at the pain that knowledge unearthed. “But that’s okay. As soon as I convince Cael to come home I’m going back to him.”
Gaze piercing, Tomas swallowed throatily eyeing my mouth. “You have options.”
“He won’t come after me.”
He stared and his pupils dilated. His grip on my chin tightened, and his thumb softly brushed across my cheek. “You have other options.”
Hearing a sensual invitation deepen his voice, and catching his head lowering, lips parting, I placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed.
“You don’t think I’m worthy of you.”
My hand slid from his chest to pat his shoulder. “I’m not meant for you.”
Nodding stiffly, Tomas released my jaw and straightened. He held out a palm to help me rise. “Let’s get this over with.”
I accepted his offered hand, and we travelled deeper into the city, wordlessly agreeing to be swift and silent.
I expected the vampires to stalk us as they had on my precious visits, but there was silence. It was difficult for me to sense vampires because they were dead in one sense and reanimated in another. They gave off no aura. Yet if I concentrated I perceived spaces where nothing existed.
Spots that were too dense or too cold gave vampires away even in the darkness.
This time we were utterly alone.
Tension rolling from him, Tomas often glanced my way, but kept his thoughts to himself when I assiduously ignored his longing stares.
The city landscape was grim and the street arrangement intricate, but I headed in a straight shot for Cael’s Wyld. It wasn’t tricky to find amidst the maze-like destruction. I followed the sounds of death and screaming.
“Rae,” Tomas murmured.
Body rigid with tension, he gripped my waist to stop me from entering the domed building and peered at it warily.
A chilly pulsation of magic barred entry, the eroded doorway warded by witchcraft. Worry over being injured trying to evade it would’ve sent me into a tizzy before. Feeling its strength with a touch of my own energy, I concluded getting past it would require a trifling expend of power. The ward was leftovers by the Coven not conjured by a loa.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. “The ward will fall before harming either of us.”
Black-eyed, Tomas’ nostrils flared, and his fangs dropped. “Not that.”
“You smell blood?” I inhaled and caught the metallic tang he scented.
“It’s human. Wait here and I’ll go look.”
I shook him off. “We go together.
A swift intake of breath snapped our heads around.
Tomas moved with unearthly speed and plunged into the shadows. He re-appeared dragging a male vampire by the scruff of the neck.
“Raj.” He let the vampire go and slapped him upside the head.
“Gah.” Rubbing his head, the vampire paled, an unpleasant look on his dusky complexion. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’.”
Tomas gave him a tap on the cheek, exasperated. “I almost tore your head off. Why aren’t you safely tucked inside the Nest?”
“Not safe.”
“Your Sire isn’t protecting you?” Tomas’ question was met with silence. “You still haven’t chosen your Sire? Why didn’t the Queen force you to? Who shows you what it means to be vampire?”
“No one.” Raj hugged his scrawny chest, bony shoulders hovering at his ears. “The Queen’s not there, and the old ones are mean. I don’t wanna be anythin’ like ‘em.” He perked up. “Daphne comin’ with ya? I liked her. She can be my Sire. Do ya think she would?”
Tomas hook his head. “Where’s Gwen?”
“Sleepin’ with Malice at the Coven Wyld.” Raj blinked then ruddy colour bloomed across his cheekbones. “Ah, I mean–”
Tomas’ hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s fine.” He studied Raj closely. “Your skin is warm, and you blush. You’re being fed. Regularly.” Tomas sniffed. “With human blood. Is the prey alive? I’m hungry.”
“What ya smell ain’t my doin’.” Raj pointed to the doorway. “That crazy female’s killin’ dem witches.”
“Who’s feeding you?” I asked.
“Cael. Well, it’s Naomi’s vein. She lets me drink ‘cause he tells her to.”
Tomas and I shared a look. “Are there strangers in the Wyld?”
Trembling, Raj nodded. “Dem Loa.”
“Cael’s a prisoner?” I asked, my throat tight.
Raj bobbed then shook his head. Shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Does Gwen still answer to the Coven Father?” Tomas asked.
“Um….” Raj scratched his head. “Dunno. Maybe.”
A fractured conversation later, I concluded though Raj meant well he barely knew his left from his right and the chance of him accurately accounting for what happened inside Cael’s Wyld was zilch. One moment Cael was a prisoner then the next he drank with Malice. His witches were murdered, but also paid tribute to Malice for protection.
“We didn’t come to fight,” I told Tomas, smiling at the young vampire in thanks for his help. “We’re here for Cael.” I thought of Gwendolyn and tossed a look at Tomas. “And anybody else willing to leave.”
“We can sneak in unseen. Raj knows a way.”
Beaming, the vampire preened and straightened from a stoop to a mere hunch. “I do. Very secret.”
“Pointless, they know I’m here.” I cringed. “I can feel them. They must feel me.”
“Is there anything I need to know?” Tomas searched my face. “What do you need me to do?”
“Do?”
He shook me gently. “You make no sense. I’m here with you and I don’t know why. We’re going to face your enemy, just us two, and you have no plan? Why did you bring me and leave Breandan?”
“I have a plan.” I strode through the seemingly unguarded doorway, discomforted at the mention of Breandan and his absence. “You don’t need to know it.”
Standing inside the murky passageway a figure waited for me.
The beaming smile died as fast as it flashed across my face. It wasn’t Roland staring back at me with dark purple irises that shimmered with power. “Hai.”
“You forgot. You thought I was him.” The loa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, head bowed. “A friend?”
Roland and I tolerated each other because of Lex, but as we’d learnt more about each other’s hidden natures true friendship blossomed.
I suffered the pain of his loss.
Keenly.
Anger tightened my features. “Towards the end he was.”
The loa sighed. “Dangerous inside. Sure you wish to enter?”
“I am.”
“Brave thing.”
“When I need to be.”
“Ti Malis is my name. Malice to this epoch.”
I nodded, respectful, sensing cosmic age in the richness of his power’s magical signature. “I’m Rae.”
Malice held out his palm. “Come then.”
I took his hand and offered him a wobbly smile. “You don’t seem so bad.”
As we walked, Tomas acting like my veritable shadow, Malice waggled his eyebrows and placed his other hand on mine. “I enjoy interesting females. Since glimpsing your uncanny beauty at the resurrection, I’ve w
anted to speak with you. To warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“I am neither good nor bad, but I find greater pleasures in the light. Marinette delights in the darkness. The sinister passions that linger where you cannot see excite her. Beware.”
“Ta,” I whispered so quietly I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.
Malice halted before we emerged into the light and kissed my palm. He grinned. “Such a shame.”
Taking a bracing breath, sparing a look of encouragement for a chalk-white Tomas, I stepped into the Wyld after the loa. And slammed to still. Repulsed. The Wyld had become nightmarish, but the godling stood at its middle sent shivers of terror throughout the innermost fibres of my being.
Sighing sweetly, Marinette raked her clawed fingernails across a dying he-witch’s cheek. She wrapped both hands around his trembling head and twisted, leisurely, drawing out the stomach-churning wrench until I shuddered with each crunch and snap of cartilage and bone.
Laughing, delighted, she dropped the limp body, and a pack of beasts fell upon it with otherworldly snarls and rough grunting.
Cael’s burning gold eyes lifted to meet mine. He looked haunted. Trapped. Beneath these surface emotions, he appeared staggered to see me. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and averted his gaze. His fists loosened then disappeared behind his back as he widened his stance then glared at me, cold and aggressive.
“Tomas!” Bright-eyed, Gwendolyn staggered forward, arms outstretched.
Tomas remained motionless.
Malice moseyed past Marinette, ignored her proffered hand, and gave Cael a strange look. Hooking an arm around the emotional vampire’s waist, he sat under a tree and pulled Gwendolyn across his lap.
Making no acknowledgment of my presence, Marinette’s red eyes wandered over me. They fixed on a point past my shoulder and waited. And waited. Her lips thinned in annoyance. “Where is he? I thought your power masked his, but he’s not here.”
Resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder, my brows lowered. “He?”
“Breandan,” Tomas murmured.
Marinette’s intense gaze met my stunned one then twitched away as her clawed fingers gripped her waist, posture rigid.
Jealousy flared in an overpowering heat that blanketed the world in smog rife with irrational suspicion. Magics zinged across my skin, a sizzling charge that lifted the hair on my arms.
Ana had been adamant under no circumstances could Breandan come with me to retrieve Cael. Now I understood why. Had he shown the slightest interest in Marinette I’d’ve gouged his eyes out then gone after her without any thought to how powerful she and her fellow loa are.
Breandan became a brooding mess whenever Tomas was mentioned or around.
I’d considered his possessiveness sweet but unnecessary.
Staring at Marinette wearing the perfect, unscarred body she was, watching her smile faintly thinking about my life mate, I revised that opinion.
Possessiveness is damn necessary.
I spluttered, trying to think of some terrorizing threat to warn her off, but merely managed an incoherent, “Mine.”
“Yours,” she said, “no longer.”
Rocking forward, I hissed.
“Focus,” Tomas breathed. He took hold of my wrist. “Don’t let her get to you.”
Marinette’s stare switched from me to him. A peculiar look widened her eyes. “Interesting how you keep the phantom close.”
All but panting, I breathed through my nose and took deep breaths to calm my temper. I unclenched my talons. The dagger-like points had broken the skin on my palm. “My kin asked me to.”
“A Seer?”
Stiff-necked, I nodded.
Tomas made a pained noise. I felt his gaze burning the back of my head.
Sympathy for his hurt cooled the last of my fury into a manageable dose of anger. I found it difficult not to turn and comfort him. I knew he’d hoped me taking him and leaving Breandan signalled a secret yearning.
There was yearning, a profound one, but it wasn’t for Tomas.
I ached for the mate I’d left behind, but was clear-headed enough to realise the separation saved our lives.
Musical whistling that sounded odd in the harsh wilderness of the Wyld stopped. “I’m curious.” Damballah lifted his head. He sat cross-legged under a pitiful-looking apple tree. “Why come here?”
My eyes cut to Cael. I pointed. “For him.”
“Why?” Damballah stretched the single worded question, thick lips puckering, head tilting.
“He’s my brother. I worried he’d get himself killed.” I paused. “I need him.”
Marinette hummed macabre notes. “As do I.”
“Oh,” Cael drawled, “to be unpopular again.” His gaze pinged between us both. His tight smile lacked sincerity. “You flatter me.”
Delighted, Marinette clapped. “Witty, isn’t he?”
Unlike the crazed loa, I didn’t find the situation humorous. “Cael, I’d like you to leave with me.”
Marinette slapped her hands together. This time the ear-splitting crack of sound was amplified by magics. Her beautiful face contorted. “So rude.”
“It’s not rude to ask my brother to come home.”
“This is his home. A lovely one.”
I blinked at the puddle of blood and guts she squirmed her toes in and looked pointedly at Cael. My expression folded, sceptic. “You might reject your heritage, but your fairy nature must find this place nasty.”
The flora strained towards me, but there was so little energy left they bloomed for a moment then wilted in death.
“Why come here?” Cael asked, shifting edgily. “Alone. Unprotected.”
“To take you where you belong.”
“I try to destroy the Wyld, and they let you offer me a place among them?”
“Return with me and the Tribe will accept you.”
“Shame on you,” Marinette cooed.
My head swerved in her direction. “I’m not lying.”
“You’re not being entirely honest either.”
I focused on Cael. “I’m not promising it’ll be painless. They’ll call you names, look down on you, but you gain their trust as you have mine.”
Uncertain, he eyed me, eyes twitching randomly along with his thoughts. “You trust me?”
“You’re blood. Of course I trust you.”
“After what I did to you?”
“You made a mistake.”
He stared. “Did,” he cleared his throat, “did my Ana see this?”
Feeling a ray of hope break through the shadows clouding the conversation, I nodded, tentative, but smiling. “A likely future. It made her proud of you.”
Marinette scoffed. “Fate is unpredictable.”
“Clairvoyance is a canard,” Damballah added. He rested his palms on his crossed ankles. “Glimpses a Seer catches are fickle. The path is changed by the smallest of decisions.”
“Yeah,” I replied, still focused on Cael. I felt afraid to look away. “How fate unfolds your journey will be scary and unpredictable and seriously messed up at times, but if you make your choice deep inside the end remains the same. Life is hard. Complicated. But some things are easy.” I rubbed my sweaty palm on my thigh then offered it to him. “Leaving behind your past and coming home to your family is an easy choice.”
Saying nothing Damballah inclined his head.
Marinette sniffed. “You talk as if you have a home to bring him to. After what happened with Breandan-”
My gaze snapped to her, and I tensed. “Don’t say his name. You don’t get to say his name.”
“So possessive of something that’s no longer yours.”
“I don’t have to–”
A black owl hooted and landed on Marinette’s shoulder.
Rotating its head to a seemingly uncomfortable angle, it ruffled its feathers with a glossy wedged beak that jutted between huge amber eyes set in a wide, flat face.
The black plumage with distincti
ve flecks of grey edging its remiges was familiar, because I’d seen it before.
I flushed, embarrassed. “You’re spying on the Wyld.”
“Of course.” She spun to Cael and took an aggressive step, fingers rigid. “Which is why I know you’ll not be disliked but reviled. Shunned. Everything you are and will ever try to be shall be rejected outright. Humiliation will become an everlasting torment you must endure with a smile. The burning shame of your indiscriminate birth will grow hotter as you bow and scrape to gain favour from weak-blooded hypocrites, and still they will spurn you. One day you will look back on what you were, could have been, see yourself for the wretch you have become and hate yourself for it.” She lifted her chin. “I offer you freedom. Pleasure. Acceptance. The chance to avenge your murdered father and put those who dare spite you in their rightful place, grovelling at your feet.” She opened her hand, and a vortex of black magics sparkled and roiled on her palm. “I offer you power. Limitless.”
“And I offer love.” Heart sinking, I shrugged. “The truth is from your perspective I have nothing.” I blinked back tears. “But it doesn’t feel that way to me. I have Conall, and Baako, Ana, Alec.” My eyes lifted and a tear slipped into the crook between my nose and cheek before wetting my lips. “I have you.”
Cael’s eyes flickered, questioning. He appeared concerned. “Your life mate?”
Shoulders jerking, my face crumpled. “He didn’t want me to come so he–” My voice was shrill and faint, so I stopped explaining to gulp down air, my whole body juddering as I struggled to repress my sorrow.
Reaching for me, Cael took a step then froze. His manner was a mixture of confusion and anger. Jaw clenching, he crossed his arms and wiped his face of emotion, but his golden eyes were fierce.
Still holding my wrist, Tomas shuffled closer and rubbed my back with his other hand. He made soft, soothing noises that made me want to curl into a ball and sob.
“See, Cael.” Marinette waved a dismissive hand toward me. “She cries over a broken promise to love her forever. Emotions are capricious things. Why entrust your future to something so fickle when my offer of power is assured.”
Summon (Rae Wilder) Page 19