The Third Fate

by Nadja Notariani

  “I tire of your delays. Cut her, Kaiden.”

  The large vampire grabbed Brooke by the hair, stretching her across his chest and exposing her neck to his blade. He paused, waiting for her sister or mother to begin rattling off what they wanted to know.

  “Fuck you,” Brooke choked out, her breath constricted in the man’s grasp.

  “We cannot tell you, because we don’t know where he took her,” Anna confessed. “That’s the truth.”

  “I see,” Gwendolyn purred in cat-like satisfaction. “I guess we’ll have to use you as bait, then.”

  Snapping her fingers at the male and turning around to leave Gwendolyn added with a smile, “Bring them along, lover. I’ve decided to make things a bit more interesting.”

  Anna, Brooke, and Lara watched in horror as Gwendolyn touched each of them for a long moment, one after the other, and then transformed herself into their very likenesses. She then returned to her first state, briefly, before morphing yet again.

  “By the Fates, you look just like her,” Kaiden gasped.

  “Don’t be a dolt, Kaiden,” Gwendolyn mocked. “I was her. I am her. Cael’s precious Rosie,” she laughed derisively, “supposedly burned up in the dawn.” She squeezed Kaiden’s pouting cheek. “Don’t be sore, darling,” she cooed, “Cael never figured it out either.”

  *

  Charity twisted from side to side, watching her dress flare prettily out as she did.

  “That was fun,” she remarked, having stopped to stare out the window.

  Conrad dipped back inside the black car that brought him.

  “I don’t like him, Charity,” Jael shivered. “He’s a bad man.”

  Harry nodded his agreement.

  “He stepped on my ship and broke it,” Harry added. “And he didn’t say he was sorry.”

  Charity smiled at her siblings sweetly.

  “Don’t be unhappy. Conrad will be sorry soon enough.”

  “But, Charity,” Jael reminded her sister, “he promised to give you Paige. Are you still going to take Paige to hurt the vampire who ruined our game?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that, Jael,” Charity giggled. “I’m not mad anymore. Besides, Conrad cannot give her to me anyway. Not anymore. Paige Kinnell walks with the undead.”

  “Then why did he say he could?” Harry asked, his face pinched with confusion.

  “He doesn’t know he can’t. Conrad and his friends can only see Paige as a mortal. The Third Fate is hidden, but Paige can see all for what they really are.”

  “What about everyone else? I thought you said you wouldn’t use magic” Jael asked, feeling better now that she knew Paige was safe.

  “That’s the fun part, Jael,” Charity insisted. “The others will have to go as their hearts lead them. Besides, I only said I wouldn’t use magic on Paige.”

  The little girl brightened.

  “We’re going to play blind faith? I get to sow the seeds!” she announced in a sing-song voice.

  *

  Pilar woke slowly. The black silk sheets felt sinful – and heavenly – against her naked skin. Ebony hued walls, draperies, flooring, and bedding swaddled the room in darkness. Sheer panels encasing the ornate canopy bed cocooned her in its nest, the only light in the room flickering out from red pillar candles littered about the space.

  Had she fallen asleep during the prayers?

  Pilar couldn’t remember how she got into the bed.

  Malcolm’s bed.

  Without having ever seen it she instinctively knew it to be his. She stirred, sliding against the sleek bed coverings.

  “Did you sleep well?” the deep voice vibrated through her inner being, it’s familiar chords tightening her belly in delicious memory of their encounter in the dressing room.

  Neither of them had spoken of it since. There was no time, no opportunity with the need for intercession on his daughter’s behalf. Pilar craned her neck, unable to see clearly in the darkened room.

  “When…how did I get here?” she asked, uncomfortable with the fact that she had no recollection of half the night. “And where are my…”

  “I brought you here,” he confessed in a sensual timbre. “After my sample of you, Pilar, surely you did not think to escape me for long.”

  He stepped out of the shadows, the candlelight casting a glow on his powerful body. His naked body. Shiny waves of black hair hung freely, stopping at his shoulder blades. Pilar’s breath caught in her throat, his masculine beauty rivaling statues of the gods from antiquity. Her insides clenched in delighted anticipation even as she shivered apprehensively when her eyes trailed to the center of his maleness, thick and jutting from between muscular thighs.

  “It’s much too late for second thoughts, my lovely Druid,” he rasped, circling the bed, reading her thoughts – or her expression.

  Pilar knew not which.

  She took in his form as he stalked her. Angular and hard, Malcolm wore his full beard with ancient dignity, hinting at his longevity, the centuries untold he’d walked the earth. Full lips enticed her to taste of them. Large hands parted the sheer curtain that wrapped the bed in gauzy haze, hands that spoke of strength and power. He lowered himself onto his arms, moving agilely across the massive bed with predatory grace.

  “As for clothes, my sweet, you no longer need them.”

  Pilar’s skin tingled. She wanted to flee; she wanted to press her body against his. His eyes burned with fiery resplendence, green and golden.

  “But…but you said…”

  His lips touched her shoulder, the question dying as her breath hitched.

  “Ah, but then I sipped from your vein,” his breath heated over her flesh.

  “The Council…” she made her final protest, needing to know if she was to be a hidden vice.

  “I am to be my own master in this, Pilar,” he murmured against her skin, sliding his mouth along the curve of her neck.

  She could make no response, no coherent speech. Malcolm’s power was well known to her, their connection special. She’d imagined he thought the same about her but had never been sure. Now he had come to her, would take her. She trembled.

  Malcolm nipped her flesh, groaning in agonized delight. Filling his hands with her long, dark hair, he tipped her head and covered her mouth, taking a slow and sensual taste that left her body shaking and weak. She wound her arms around his shoulders, clutching him as he held her and plundered her mouth. His lips ignited a fire beneath their trail, his hands caressing and stroking her exposed flesh with daring boldness. Despite herself, she arched against him, her breasts aching for contact with his skin. His hand closed around the front of her neck, holding her in helpless possession, but it was not fear that boiled in her veins.

  Pilar Michaels would risk everything – anything - for this man, this vampire.

  No longer aware of aught save his presence around her, over her, Pilar surrendered to his embrace, his kiss, his touch. He descended her body, covering her breast with his heated mouth, and pierced her vein. Sharp torment startled a pained cry from her, but then pleasure pulsed where he suckled, rolling outward, taking her to the brink of climax. Her cry morphed into a moan, want ousting pain as he drew on her. Malcolm deftly stroked her womanly center, running his finger over her in sensual torture before pressing inside. Pilar raised her hips in eager encouragement, the building tension in her body unbearable. He abandoned her vein, the wound open yet, and roved, piercing her other breast as he eased another finger into her.

  It was too much. Pilar shattered into pieces. He left her vein again, lapping at the thin trails of liquid life spilling from her wounds, the rivulets joining between her breasts as he suckled barbarically. Lower he trailed his kisses, marking her flesh with his sharp teeth, nearing the source of her pleasure. Pinning her to the bed with his massive palms, Malcolm gently laved over her feminine flesh. Her hands sought him, stroking his hair and bearded face, her rapture made plain in mewling cries. Pushing her legs open, Malcolm sank his teeth into the
tender flesh of her inner thigh. Pilar was adrift, her moan filling the air with uninhibited release. When he left her again, he sealed the wound, licking his way back to her breasts, groaning with each taste of her blood. He covered her body with his own, fitting himself between her thighs and moving against her flesh in intimation of the art of lovemaking. She thrilled under his heaviness, the heat between her legs, the probing at her essence.

  His lips brushed hers, softly, tenderly.

  Awaken my lovely Druid. Become mine for all eternity…

  Malcolm clasped her wrists in his large hand, settling them around his neck. His other hand curved around her face, his thumb stroking her jaw as he stared into her eyes, willing her to hear him. He turned her, exposing her neck, and Pilar knew she was helpless to deny him whatever he asked, whatever he would take.

  The prick of his teeth piercing her flesh wrenched a whimper from her, rapidly flooding her with ecstasy. Captive beneath his massive form, opened before his hips, she was helpless to move. She could do nothing more than experience as liquid heat coursed through her veins, his mouth suckling her neck in ancient ritual. Malcolm thrust inside her, opening her for the first time in savage possession, pain mingling with pleasure, sensuality consuming her as he moved within her powerfully.

  His rough groans, barbarous and exalted in their claim, reverberated through her as his body filled her again and again, his hum against her flesh thrilling. No more could she stand the pleasure, its brutal delight more than she thought to bear, and Pilar cried out. Malcolm growled in feral abandon, burying himself as his seed pulsed inside her.

  Closing her neck, Malcolm released his hold and covered her mouth in a claiming, possessive kiss that stole the little breath she had left. He planted his arms on either side of her, trailing to her breasts in feathering kisses. Sweet nipping bites and indolent sips at her breasts prolonged her pleasure in between the licks at her wounds until he sealed them and returned to her lips for a final sensual taste.

  Arms heavy, she could barely keep her eyes open as exhaustion claimed its due. Malcolm wrapped the black silk around her, stroking her long hair.

  Sleep.

  Malcolm…

  She smiled weakly against the pillow at being able to communicate with him with a mere thought.

  I am so tired, Malcolm.

  His hand rested on her head a moment.

  I have only begun to feast upon you, my love.

  Even in exhaustion, Pilar’s insides tightened at his promise to return to her. Before the oblivion of sleep claimed her, she heard his final push into her consciousness.

  Mine…

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paige peered into the darkness, separated from the pain she had writhed under a second before. She could not discern the images before her. Taking a tentative step forward, the ground became more illuminated. Slowly the shapes, dark and murky, solidified.

  So many paths to travel.

  How will I choose? Cael, I’m afraid.

  When Paige heard nothing from him, she despaired a moment. Compelled onward, she knew not which path would lead her to life – to Cael.

  Come back to me, lass. I need ye…

  The whispering echo of his voice caught her at once, drawing her to the red road.

  I’m trying, Cael. I’m trying…

  Toward his essence she marked one step at a time, her confidence growing with each footfall to the reddish path. Then, other voices began calling to her. Luring and celestial, they enticed from all sides, promising that which she had longed for in her mortal life.

  Her mother.

  The woman, at least the woman Paige imagined she would look like, for there was not a single picture of her mother except from when she was very young, approached the red path, never stepping foot upon it.

  “Come with me, child. Let me have you now. I was denied you in my life, having to leave you.”

  “Mother?” Paige slowed, staring at the flowing gown and ethereal beauty of the bare footed woman.

  How many times had she dreamt of this meeting, longed to be comforted in her mother’s embrace? Curiosity to know the woman who had given birth to her silenced all other thoughts. Paige reached out to touch the apparition, but the woman backed away.

  “You may not touch while you remain on the red road, daughter. Abandon it, and come to me. Spend eternity at my side.”

  Paige struggled to remember why she walked the red road. How she yearned for her own mother, the woman she had never known. Wasn’t that her heart’s desire? Paige took another step toward the edge of the red path, looking at the ground.

  “You can find the red road again later,” the being cooed. “We deserve time with one another.”

  “Yes, later,” Paige answered, inching closer to the dark ground.

  One more step and she’d be reunited with the mother taken from her. The niggling sensation that she’d forgotten something important kept her from that final step. Why couldn’t she remember?

  Keep walking, lass. Look neither to the left, nor to the right. There’s them that want ye.

  The voice. Deep and strong. She knew it, had heard it before. It beckoned.

  But…her mother.

  How can I leave my mother?

  She questioned the familiar voice, unsure of why she did so.

  That’s not yer mother, lass. Keep walking. Doona step yer foot from the red road, Paige. Ye canna return to it if ye set foot in the Netherworld.

  Paige looked up, the woman no longer before her. Confusion persisted in her foggy thoughts. It was then that she saw Jake.

  Ahead, he lingered near the red road, waiting, it appeared, for someone or something. Paige continued walking, unwilling to trust her eyes. Was it really Jake? How could it be; he was dead. The man looked startled as he beheld her face, recognition dawning in his blank eyes, turning them alive with color.

  “Paige?” he choked out. “Is that you?”

  He reached for her, but his hand pressed against an invisible barrier. Frustration showed on his handsome, if pale and translucent, face.

  “Jake?” she questioned, her voice quivering with emotions she had buried in the years since his death. “It’s me, Paige,” she whispered, not believing her eyes.

  She’d not seen his face since the day he left for the Middle East. Out of necessity, his funeral had been closed casket.

  “Come with me,” she begged. “The red road is the way out of here I think.”

  His mouth opened, but no sound escaped. Sadness filled his eyes. Collecting himself, he tried to speak again, and it was apparent that it took great effort for him to do so.

  “I cannot walk the red road, Paige.”

  “I don’t want to leave you here!”

  Sweet Jake, taken from her so tragically. How could she live with herself if she walked away from him, left him alone? A strange wind howled, whipping her hair around her face, making it nearly impossible to hear Jake’s words.

  “I must stay. You can stay with me, Paige.”

  “I cannot!” she cried, tears falling down her cheeks. “I have to keep walking…to return to Cael.”

  “You love another?” he asked, his tone accusing.

  Guilt threatened.

  Do I betray his memory in loving again?

  “You were gone, Jake. Was I to never live again?”

  “I was gone?” he railed. “I returned to find you gone, Paige. You just disappeared!”

  “Jake, that’s impossible,” she said in confusion. “I still live in the same place I have since you died.”

  The tortured expression that consumed him broke her heart.

  “What did you say?” he whispered, the wind making it impossible to be sure of his response.

  “I said,” she yelled over the roaring that grew louder with each word, “I said…”

  Jake was gone, the path still beneath her feet. The wind was gone too.

  Drink, Paige. It will make ye stronger. Please come back to me…

 
Warmth flooded her throat, and she stood alone on the reddish path. A tingling filled her, and suddenly the path became vivid again, instinct pointing, directing her.

  Your blood shows me the way…

  Come to me, lass. Doona tarry. I canna bear bein’ apart from ye…

  *

  A third vampire joined the fray, the males holding Brooke and Lara, the female, Anna.

  “To Fife House,” Gwendolyn ordered.

  Anna Kinnell was in serious trouble. Secrets from the past lurked just beneath the surface, and she feared that the time for keeping them had expired. How could she explain to Paige? She’d done what she thought right at the time, the decisions made in the heat of the moment over twenty-five years ago regretted every day since. Anna almost looked forward to being found out. Carrying the burden had grown wearying. A reckoning was due.

  She did not protest being taken, allowing Fate to lead where it would. Her only concern was for her daughters. Brooke and Lara were never to have made introduction to this world. All Anna had wanted was to protect her sister; but her protection had killed Agnes. Anna bore her shame. She’d known that Agnes loved the vampire, Malcolm. Separating them was supposed to free Agnes from his thrall. Instead she had waned, her life spirit crushed from the sorrow of existing without him. She’d seen the signs, should have reunited them, but her own stubborn pride hardened her heart, preventing her from doing what she knew to be right. She told Agnes the vampire was a liar, that he and his kind would kill the half-born. Half of what she told her sister was true. Vampires would seek the child’s life. Malcolm was a different story.

  Convincing Agnes that Malcolm had abandoned her was the hardest thing Anna Kinnell had ever done. It was also the cruelest. If she could change it, she would. The news had killed her sister. In truth, Druid spells hid their location from Malcolm. Sweet, trusting Agnes had never suspected a thing.

  When the tiny girl was born she thought her sister would rally, but Agnes departed the world before the sun set that Samhain. Why she hadn’t relented and contacted the ancient, she still didn’t fully comprehend. Perhaps she resented his taking her sister from her. Perhaps she scorned the idea that her sister would abandon her child, giving up on life while pining away for love of that heinous creature. Anna would never have chosen a man over her girls. At once, Anna had fallen in love with the tiny babe and adopted the daughter as her own, raising her alongside her five month old twins.