“Are you willing to stick around for the aftermath?”
Cael looked directly into the younger vampire’s eyes.
“Meaning?”
“Many vampires are ready for a change in leadership, Maccinnis. The old ways aren’t working. Corruption abounds. Injustice is done. But stability is needed. If we expose a Council member, are you willing to take the seat?” A pregnant pause filled the space between the two vampires. “It is where you belong. You are the oldest Maccinnis, and therefore the rightful Council seat holder.”
“Ye doona know what ye say!” Cael struggled to hold his temper. “The Council has no real power anymore. It is the corruption of the Coven leaders that hurts lesser vampires. The Council is naught but a figurehead.”
“We could change that with control of the Council, Cael. If you replace Coven leaders, change will follow.”
Cael considered the vampire’s suggestion.
“I will think on it. And I will approach Malcolm of Clan Gaunson.”
“Why him?” Eagen wondered aloud.
“Because he fathered my Paige.”
Eagen smirked. Perhaps not all the Council members were completely out of touch with reality. It was useful information his brother would like hearing.
*
Pilar Michaels hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. The first day, Malcolm had hand fed her fruit and breads. Since then he’d offered her only himself. Each night he’d come to her, drinking and taking her over and over until the dawn. Without the thirst she’d not had the urge to drink from him. Tonight was different. Awakening.
Hunger for him consumed every thought, her body desperate in her need. Thirst for his blood taunted her, and she ran her tongue over the now sharp fangs aching in her jaw.
When will you come to me?
“I am here,” his voice startled her.
He was alongside her. It was unnatural. Pilar didn’t care.
Reaching for him, his splendor more than she thought to withstand, Pilar gasped when he caught her arms and rolled her on top of his body, his hardness pressing against her belly instantly.
“You are ready, my sweet. Take, and live alongside me.”
She found his mouth as he finished speaking, exploring him hungrily. Down his body she licked and tasted, his cock jumping against her in anticipation. She returned to his neck. To what she wanted. Rubbing herself along his length, she scraped her teeth on his neck, readying to puncture his vein and taste what her throat begged her do. She hesitated, afraid of the newness, of the otherness of the act she yearned to commit.
Malcolm’s strong hands grasped her hips and lifted her above his thickness, pushing inside her, groaning savagely as he stretched her. She moaned in delirious ecstasy, sinking her teeth as pleasure rolled through her. Spicy and warm, his flavor exploded upon her tongue. The sensuality of being bitten caused him to buck beneath her, hurtling Pilar into sweet release. Coming around his thickness, rocking her hips in time with the waves of pleasure while drawing his blood into her mouth in sensual pulls, Pilar collapsed on top of him, entirely spent, fully satisfied. She left his vein, instinctively swirling her tongue over the wound to seal it off.
Malcolm rolled them, still buried inside her, and began the ancient rhythm of pleasure, thrusting untamed, opening her vein and drinking freely. Pleasure burst again, her contractions bringing him along with her to fulfillment. They lay together, Malcolm kissing her lips, her face and her breasts, alternately sucking on her peaked nipples, drawing soft moans of newly building pleasure from her before sinking his teeth deeply.
Her sharp cry stilled him, delight and pain no longer discernible in the first moment of the bite, euphoria flooding through her as she rocked her hips, drawing him deeper still within her.
Take your pleasure, my love, and drink again. You need strength for your journey.
She obeyed, drinking until she could take no more as he rode her through wave after wave of pleasure. When he poured his essence into her again and his groans of pleasure subsided, Malcolm whispered near her ear.
“Do not leave the red road. Listen, for my voice will guide you. Call to me; I will hear. You must come back to me.”
Malcolm, I’ve no desire to leave you. What are you talking about?
His gaze, intense and burning, found hers.
You must walk over the Netherworld, my sweet. Do not veer from the path. Awaken and spend eternity with me.
“Malcolm,” she rasped. “I feel…”
“Hurry back to me, Pilar. I cannot lose you.”
Burning heat scorched her. Darkness and fire whirled on all sides. It was terrifying and painful and lonely. Falling and falling, yet no scream of fear would escape her throat. Then stillness. The veiled world took shape before her eyes, foreign and distant outside the reddish path beneath her feet.
Walk, Pilar.
She commanded her feet to move once, and then again.
Don’t stop until you see Malcolm again.
The path stretched before her endlessly, but Pilar concentrated only on putting one foot in front of the other, looking directly in front of herself. Myths and legends told of a physical journey across the Netherworld that changelings had to survive, but she’d always dismissed them as nothing more than fairy tales, thinking the Awakening only a spiritual trek rather than physical. Her life now depended on traversing this realm successfully. Dirt and rock crunched beneath her footfalls in unnatural echoes as she journeyed the red road, her heart beating out the tattoo of her lover’s name.
Malcolm. Malcolm. Malcolm.
*
Cael materialized in the foyer of the great home. Instantly the steward appeared, politely inquiring of his business and whether he had an appointment. Rather than impressing him, it reinforced his beliefs of how out of touch from the mainstream vampire world the Council members were.
“I have no appointment. Tell Malcolm of Clan Gaunson that Cael of Clan Maccinnis is here. He willna refuse to see me.”
The white haired steward left him standing in the foyer, no invitation to sit in one of the elaborately decorated rooms offered. He would have refused it, but the insult to his person was noted. A grin crossed his face as he considered the old steward’s slight a moment more. The man was vampire, yet he chose to walk about in an old man’s body. That was dedication. Cael bet that when off duty, the steward projected an image quite different.
Shunning the extravagance surrounding him, Cael stood with hands clasped behind his back, neither showing expression nor gazing about the beautiful surroundings. He would not be seduced by the wealth of this home. A taunting voice surfaced in his thoughts.
You have the same wealth. You simply haven’t bought things to show it off. All vampires eventually acquire wealth. It is the natural progression of long life. Why do you disdain the bounty you have been afforded?
Because I will not be like my father.
The truth of the thought railed in his mind. Cael judged because of his feelings toward his own father. That was the reason behind his refusal to embrace opulence. He feared becoming like the man who sired him. In that moment, Cael confronted the prejudices he’d been carrying around for years.
Greed and avarice had ruled his father’s heart, power and position his mother’s. As a child he’d been relegated to the care of nannies and then sent to boarding schools for children of elite vampires while his parents traveled and socialized, building their power base and garnering support for his father’s political career. It had all come crumbling down when his parents lost everything in their failed bid for power. Even then, instead of coming home and caring for him, their own son, quietly in their home, they had chosen the dawn rather than face the consequences of their coup attempt.
It was at school that Cael had met Alden, and later Alden’s father, David. He’d found purpose and peace with Alden’s family, learning the trade he continued to practice yet today – woodworking - under the tutelage of David of Clan Gaunson. Alden remained his closest frien
d through the millennia. Besides Alden, Cael had gained only one other close friend, Rowan. It was because of her warning he was here at the home of another ancient, Malcolm of Clan Gaunson.
“You will be received, Cael of Clan Maccinnis,” the steward interrupted his memories. “Come this way.”
Following the man past rows of doors off-shooting from the main hallway, Cael was led left, down another vast marbled hall to a grand room of limestone tiled floors and walls. Chandeliers hung beneath beautifully crafted medallion moldings, the large room illuminated by the glittering crystals. Behind the heavy desk sat the vampire he’d come to speak with. Malcolm.
“Approach,” came the command.
Cael moved forward, unsure of the reception he would receive. He had disobeyed the Council’s order to bring Paige to them while she Awakened. He was betting Malcolm would thank him now that he had proof he’d made the right decision.
“Malcolm of Clan Gaunson,” Cael began, “yer daughter lives.”
“I am aware, Maccinnis,” Malcolm sighed. “Do you believe she will fully Awaken soon?”
Malcolm’s question shocked Cael, but he buried the thought quickly. Paige was Awakened, would be fully vampire once she fed. Malcolm should know this, should have sensed the moment Paige wakened on this side of her ordeal through the Netherworld. That he did not implied that either a Druid enchantment masked Paige’s condition, or that Malcolm lied. Sensing no dishonesty from the man, however, Cael favored his first thought.
“I come on another matter.”
Cael decided to keep Paige’s vampire status to himself. If Malcolm could not be trusted, at least he’d be unaware that Paige was now immortal. It could save her.
Malcolm’s head snapped up, surprise showing in his eyes.
“Another matter?”
“How well do ye know yer fellow Council members?”
“What sort of question is that?”
“Malcolm,” Cael said firmly, his blue eyes keen to the vampire’s returning stare, “ye have a traitor on the Council.”
“Who?” Malcolm growled.
“Conrad of Clan Maccinnis.” Cael expected Malcolm to rail against him, to deny the possibility of such an evil, but the man did neither, instead sat waiting for Cael to continue. “He’s plotting to hand over the half-born – yer daughter – to the Fates. He’s also planning to remove the threat of my ascension to the Council seat that is rightfully mine. And Gwendolyn is helping him.”
Malcolm sighed heavily.
“How did you uncover this information, Cael?”
“It was overheard, the message delivered to me this night.”
“No doubt through the organized crime syndicate,” Malcolm eyed him sharply. “You cannot play both sides of the fence, Maccinnis. If you want to be taken seriously, you’d better…”
“That’s where ye be wrong, Malcolm. Without the organized crime syndicate in place, ye wouldna be sittin’ in yer Council seats at all. All out chaos and rebellion is what ye would be facin’!”
Malcolm remained stone faced, but Cael could see that his words had impacted the fellow ancient.
“You believe you’ve a solution to our dilemma?” Malcolm asked carefully.
“I doona claim any such thing,” Cael replied. “But I canna stand by and let Conrad and his followers destroy the Council completely, nor will I allow him to harm the woman I love.”
“My daughter,” Malcolm stated.
“Yer daughter,” Cael affirmed. “She’s bonded to me; I’ll not give her up, no matter that she’s a half-born. And I willna tolerate any that do not actively oppose Conrad and his.”
Malcolm smiled.
“I did not expect anything less from you, Cael of Clan Maccinnis. We have much to discuss. Come.”
Malcolm led Cael into his private office where he revealed his story and his love for a half-born. Offering Cael sincere apologies for remaining silent before Conrad all those years ago when Kaiden and Gwendolyn had falsely accused him, Malcolm confessed his and Rhys’ concerns with the Council’s effectiveness in ruling. The men formulated a plan, both fearing at the knowledge of Gwendolyn’s involvement.
“That viper!” Malcolm hissed. “She’d sell her mother for gain.”
“Aye, Malcolm,” Cael affirmed. “She’ll stop at nothing to get what she wants.”
“So, Maccinnis, we must discover what it is she truly wants,” Malcolm said pointedly.
Chapter Fifteen
Huddled together on the floor, Brooke and Lara whispered in the darkness.
“There must be something on the outside of the windows to keep it so dark in here,” Brooke speculated. Her sister ignored her. “What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s that matter?” Lara shot back in frustration. “We’re stuck in here and we’re never getting out unless we tell them where Paige is!”
“To tell them anything would endanger our sister, Lara!”
“We’re in danger, Brooke! Or haven’t you noticed?” Lara’s response cut the air. “This is Paige’s fault, anyway. If she hadn’t mixed herself up with a vampire…”
“Really, Lara? Really?” Brooke snapped.
Brooke was becoming seriously agitated with her twin. This was not what she expected from Lara, and it sparked an unease within her. Remembering she’d witnessed Gwendolyn take on the form of each person she’d touched, Brooke determined to discover the identity of who or what sat next to her. Leaning near, Brooke spoke unintelligible sounds and syllables into her twin’s ear, waiting for the proper response. As children they shared their own garbled language amongst the three of them. What Lara replied would tell true.
“What?” Lara looked at her sideways. “You’re talking gibberish.”
Brooke repeated the mixed up talk again in case her sister’s panic had scrambled her memory.
“You’re talking nonsense. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying!” Lara whispered loudly.
“You are not my sister,” Brooke retorted, proud to have outsmarted the female vampire. “My sister would never turn coward and tell you anything!”
“Then you are more foolish than I had first thought,” Gwendolyn replied, appearing as herself again. “Have it your way.”
The vampire smiled at her before she faded into a black mist that disappeared. Brooke prayed that her sister and mother would not be fooled by the trick. The funny part about all this was that they really didn’t know where Paige was. It was a protection she was thankful for. Gwendolyn’s eyes had told her that the woman would use any means to get what she wanted. Brooke attempted to prepare herself mentally, certain that pain was to be in her near future.
*
Something was wrong.
Activity in the house was high for this early in the eve, and Cael’s hearing picked up unfamiliar voices. He also sensed the unraveling of his enchantments on the property, and he thanked the Fates that he’d not been away long in meeting with Malcolm.
“Paige,” he whispered, shaking her slightly. “Ye must wake up.”
She turned, alert at once.
“Someone is here.”
He smiled. Her instincts were developing quickly.
“Aye, lass. Now cover up that beautiful body. I’ll not abide a man lustin’ after what’s mine.”
His wry smile drew a rueful look from her.
“Like this?”
Jeans and a sweater covered her lovely figure. In a second he was beside her, his mouth hungry on her lips.
“Doona laugh. Unless ye want to see me come unraveled,” he whispered between kisses.
“I do not,” she smiled faintly before her brow furrowed with worry. “What are we going to do?”
“Be ready. Stay close to me, Paige. I detect three vampires, and I’m betting one of them is Gwendolyn. But I think there are more than three people.”
“Me too,” her eyes widened as she agreed. “I can smell them…I think.”
“Aye. Ye can. Humans.”
Paige hear
d as Cael reached out to Alden telepathically, alerting him to the danger.
“Cael,” she shivered, swaying on her feet.
“What is it? Are ye not well yet?”
“No. I mean I feel fine. It’s just that I had a sense of foreboding for a minute. It’s gone now.”
Cael didn’t like the sound of it.
“I wish ye had fed once ye wakened. It’s the final step of yer transition. It will have to wait until later. Stay close to me, lass. Promise.”
“I promise,” she agreed. “Cael,” her voice was shaky, “They have my Aunt Anna and my cousins.”
“Let’s go,” he stated, opening the door and walking out like he owned the place.
“What are you doing?” Paige breathed.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
Cael readied to make war as he walked into the pit of perdition. In the sitting room of Raven House were Conrad and Kaiden, holding between themselves the three Kinnell women. But when Cael caught sight of the third vampire, he reeled.
*
Charity hurried her brother and sister along.
“Button your coat, Harry. It’s quite cold.” She kept her eye on him a moment, daring him to defy her, but her smile hinted at the fun they were having all the same. “Let me tie your scarf.”
Little Jael scooted closer to help Charity with the task.
“There! We’re ready,” she announced, tucking the scarf’s ends into Harry’s coat.
Jael’s small voice reminded, “Charity, what about your coat?”
The girls laughed merrily, Harry joining in when he, too, realized that in her haste, Charity was the one leaving the house with no coat against the cold weather.
“What would I do without you, Jael?”
With marbled buttons fastened and pink plaid scarf tied snug about her neck, Charity led her siblings out of the house. In the front yard they joined hands and skipped around the inside of the stone circle, chanting in sing-song unison until they faded, their song remaining a few seconds behind their disappearance.
Still linked hand in hand, now outside Raven house, Charity bent down between her brother and sister.
The Third Fate Page 15