Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series)

by Baughman, Chauntelle

  Frederick quickly pulled himself from the soft bed to stand before the king, his long-removed uncle. “Good day, Costel.”

  Costel and his mate, Danielle, ruled over the vampires as Lamia King and Queen. Vampires were big believers in blood, both in what they drank and in genealogy. It wasn’t uncommon for vampires to track down living descendants and offer up the opportunity for eternal life, wiping them of their memories if they refused. When the king had approached Frederick and offered him his rightful place as Lamia Prince, he’d accepted.

  Not everyone was lucky enough to be given a choice.

  “Hello, my lord,” Rho added quickly, putting her arms behind her back. Costel wasn’t a huge fan of her artistic side. Not like she gave a shit. Her body, her life. Although she kept that sentiment in her own head and didn’t dare say it out loud.

  The king stepped into the room without a word, slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind him. He scanned the wall and turned to her, his expression grave. “Are we alone?”

  The question caught her off guard, and she skimmed the room for the source of his concern. Frederick approached the wardrobe and opened the heavy doors, running his hands along the interior walls and between the hung clothes. Following his lead, she crouched down to check beneath her bed. Nothing.

  She brushed the light dusting of dirt from her knees and glanced at Frederick. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “Me neither,” Frederick agreed.

  Costel lowered his voice to a whisper. “I need to speak with you both.”

  She nodded and stepped closer. The king’s gaze darted around the room. “Bring me the Kamen.”

  Frederick’s eyes drifted to Rho.

  “The Kamen?” she repeated, realizing she sounded like a parrot the moment the words escaped her lips.

  “Yes. Bring it to me,” Costel demanded. “Now.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. “But it should be where I’ve always kept—”

  “I did not ask you where you keep it. I told you to retrieve it. Why are you still standing here?” the king snapped, clenching his fists. His nostrils flared as his cold eyes bore into hers.

  Oh, shit. Shocked at his anger and unclear as to the reason behind it, she turned around and flung open the door.

  “Go with her,” Costel instructed Frederick.

  Luckily nothing stood in her way as she ran through the doorway and into the corridor. Her legs didn’t slow down as she ducked beneath the stalactites and pressed on. Hanging a right, she sprinted toward the kitchen. She’d only gotten that little red rock back a couple of days ago, and put it right into the hiding place she’d prepared. No one should have been able to find it, let alone break the spells protecting it.

  She skidded to a halt in the middle of the kitchen.

  “In here?” Frederick’s voice followed close behind her, but she didn’t acknowledge him.

  She swung open a cupboard door and started removing mugs from the shelf. For most vamps, food never digested well and they didn’t bother because only blood offered nutritional value. But hot drinks could always soothe whatever ailed her, and coffee was her favorite both as a human and one of the undead. She was the only person in this cavern who drank the stuff.

  Frederick snorted. “You hid it in a coffee mug?”

  “Not exactly. I hid it where I thought no one would look for it. This seemed like a good spot.”

  He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear but stepped forward to take the mugs from her hands and place them on the countertop.

  She peered into the cabinet.

  A light push should do the trick… POP. The back of the cabinet snapped out, revealing a shiny, slick black surface.

  The glossy plate was cool beneath her fingers as she laid her hand flat. Frederick watched curiously over her shoulder but didn’t say a word. A red laser light moved vertically and horizontally, scanning her entire hand before seven loud clicks released the mechanical lock. She’d felt like James Bond when she ordered the kit from the spy gear store online. Seemed anything could be bought these days, if one only knew where to look.

  The faceplate slid up and into the upper cabinet space, revealing a small white box. The smooth, iridescent cube displayed no bows, frills or seams. Just as she’d left it. Her fangs descended and she lifted a thumb to her mouth.

  A firm hand grabbed her wrist.

  “What is this box?” Worry clouded Frederick’s handsome face, his brows furrowing over troubled eyes. His lips pursed, intensifying the strong line of his jaw.

  “Blood magick.”

  His grasp tightened. “You know better than that.”

  She caught a hint of fear in the air, excessively sweet. He was right. She did know better than to play with magick, let alone blood magick. Only the most advanced magick movers—witches or wizards—could manipulate anything this potent. And maybe the fae.

  That was exactly why she’d picked it.

  “It’s protecting a relic specifically given to me by the king for safeguarding, Frederick. I couldn’t exactly use a gym locker.”

  He locked onto her stare but released her hand. “Fine. But it’s dangerous and I don’t like it.”

  Ignoring his protest, she swiped her thumb across a fang. Deep crimson blossomed along the path. Careful not to drip on the floor, she pressed her thumb firmly to the box and slathered it with her personalized red paint.

  Tuned to her blood, the box would answer only to her. At least, that’s what Eldon had claimed.

  The lid began to disintegrate and she sighed in relief. The mover had been true to his word. Although she couldn’t help but be a little pissed at ruining these spells. They were only one-shot deals, so she’d have to get them all done again. Which meant another after-hours trip.

  A small black bag surfaced, and she removed it from the box. “This is it.” She lifted it to her lips. “Rho Vasile,” she whispered, speaking to the bag and hoping everything worked according to plan.

  “What is this?” Frederick asked, his voice hushed.

  “Very special magick. Only a few magick movers know how to weave a vocal spell like this one.”

  It had taken her three weeks before the Collective would cough up Eldon’s name. His services had cost a pretty penny, but thankfully the expense was irrelevant. The king footed the bill for everyone living within his personal space, including her. Some chose to live alone or in smaller groups, but they paid their own way in exchange for that freedom, and were granted that permission after serving the coven for as long as the king deemed necessary. Rho had only been turned two years ago and still owed time.

  The bag untied itself and opened, revealing the gemstone safely hidden…

  Oh shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit!

  The bag was empty.

  “Frederick…” her voice cracked. She turned the bag inside out, and he snatched it from her hands. Maybe she couldn’t see it. Yeah, that was it.

  If vampires could be sick, she would have thrown up. She’d been given this responsibility and she’d royally fucked it up. This was so, so bad. Oh, shit on toast, this was so freaking bad. “Where is it?”

  He shook the small satchel then laid it on the countertop and patted it down. Opened the mouth and peered inside. Shook it out again. “It can’t be.”

  Rho’s mouth turned to cotton. Her lips tried to move but failed miserably. Who could have taken it? How could they break inside the box and keep it intact? Costel would fire her for her incompetency, or worse.

  She’d be sentenced to death.

  “Rhowen, listen to me. Rho!” Frederick grabbed her arms, shaking her and forcing her to look at him. She focused on his face and tried to get a grip on herself.

  “Yeah?” she squeaked.

  “We need to find Costel. Now.
”

  She nodded and let Frederick lead her down the rock-ridden corridors and into her bedroom. Her feet and brain weren’t up for more than following. They found Costel pacing the floor of her room.

  When they entered, he stopped, extending a hand to her. “Give it to me.”

  “The Kamen is gone,” Frederick said calmly.

  The king drew a deep breath and lifted his chin to capture Rho’s stare. “Did you not protect it well?” He maintained his composure but those dark eyes exposed his fury.

  “I—I did, my lord. I thought… I did.” She tried to answer him, but the words stumbled stupidly from her mouth.

  “Costel,” Frederick interrupted. Thank God. “I assure you, Rhowen took every precaution to ensure the Kamen’s safety.”

  The king leveled a hard stare at his nephew, then to her, then back to his nephew. “It’s not safe to speak of these things here. I must make a call. Both of you meet me in my quarters in one hour. Do not appear suspicious and be careful you are not followed.”

  He turned and left the room.

  Frederick and Rho stared at each other, and she tried to process what happened. He grazed a finger across her cheek. She tried not to flinch in surprise at the unanticipated touch. What… the hell? Then he turned on a dime and exited the room.

  At a total loss as to what had transpired with the Kamen or Frederick, she rubbed her face with her hand. Good God, she wanted to go to bed. She had a sneaking suspicion she’d just kicked over the first domino, and the rest of them were about to fall.

  Chapter Three

  Frederick stepped in front of Rho and tapped on the thick wooden door.

  She inhaled deeply, breathing in the soothing scent of the coffee in her hand and wishing she could be anywhere else. A meeting with the king and queen, in their personal quarters, was hardly the way she had thought she’d be spending the evening. And to make it worse, she knew they were already upset with her before she even stepped foot through the door.

  “Come in.” Costel’s deep voice was muffled. Frederick pulled the door open, and Rho followed him inside the chamber. “Close the door behind you.”

  Rho turned and slid the deadbolt into place, then drew another deep breath. She’d never been inside the king’s private chambers before. The thought of being trapped in here with ancient, powerful vampires gave her the creeps.

  She turned around, taking in the opulent décor. The room was truly meant for royalty, the massive bed at the center outfitted with elaborate red and gold tapestries. The queen perched at the end, her gaze fixed on her mate at his large, elaborately scrolled desk. Two chairs sat on the opposite side, waiting for occupants.

  “Sit,” Costel instructed.

  Rho’s ass found the chair cushion quickly and she tried to suppress her fears. This conversation would determine her punishment for losing the relic. She didn’t want to believe they’d kill her for it, but she couldn’t know for sure. They’d authorized executions for less.

  A shiver raced up her spine.

  Costel studied her then turned to Frederick. “You will not repeat anything I tell you here tonight.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rho said quickly.

  Frederick didn’t respond. Then again, he was the prince. He didn’t have to.

  The king directed his attention to her. “Rhowen, do you know why our Kamen is important?”

  “Because it holds the magick of the DarqRealm, my lord.”

  “And?” he prompted.

  The nervous knot in her stomach tightened. “And that magick allows us to drink blood.”

  Before she’d been instructed to hide it, Frederick had explained that the Kamen held the magick that somehow made the whole blood-drinking gig work. They needed the magick in the stone to survive.

  Costel snagged a ballpoint pen from the jar on his desk as he considered her. “That’s partially true. The Kamen allows us to turn blood into sustenance. But do you understand why?”

  What kind of questions was that? She racked her brain for a history lesson. Once she’d hidden the Kamen safely away, there hadn’t been anything more to discuss.

  She shook her head.

  The queen glided over and stood beside her husband. She was a beautiful woman. Her thick ebony hair floated down to her waist and complimented her delicate Spanish features perfectly.

  He clasped her hand in his left then rubbed his tired eyes with his right. “I’ve avoided telling this story for many centuries. It’s better if people don’t know about the Kamens.”

  “Kamens?” Rho interrupted. There were more than the one?

  Chomping down on her lip, she reminded herself to mind her manners. She was in enough deep shit already.

  Costel’s expression darkened, but Danielle patted his arm and he eased back into his chair. Remarkable how the mate bond could work so seamlessly.

  The queen smiled down at her mate. “It’s all right, my love. She may ask questions. We must be sure she understands her task.”

  Oh, crap. Not again. The last time they’d assigned her a task, she’d been named executioner. What could be next?

  Costel sighed and nodded. “Yes, more than ours exists. In the old times, the people of the DarqRealm—DarqDwellers—traveled between the human world and Etherealis.”

  Rho frowned. “Etherealis?”

  “The other dimension.”

  “There’s another dimension?” Rho wasn’t able to hold back the surprise in her voice. A quick glance at Frederick told her this wasn’t news to him.

  The king held up a hand and leaned forward in his seat. “The ley lines are the gateways between our world and that place.”

  “Why can’t we go there now?” Rho asked.

  “In a word, Mohan.” He clasped his hands together and placed them on the desk. “The belief has long been that Etherealis is the home of magick, the place from which all magick stems. Millennia ago, the DarqDwellers traveled freely between this dimension and Etherealis.”

  “What is Mohan?” Rho asked.

  “Mohan is a person. More specifically, a very powerful magick mover. He believed that exposure to the human world would dilute our magick over time, until there was none left and all the races would suffer.”

  Rho tilted her head. “Can that happen?”

  Costel shrugged. “The Council didn’t think so. There was no evidence to support his claims.”

  “Was there a trial?”

  “There was a hearing to determine if his claims held any validity. When we found none, his case was dismissed.”

  Rho raised a brow. “I’m guessing it didn’t end there.”

  “Not hardly.” Costel leaned back, his chair squeaking in protest beneath him. “Mohan formed a following large enough to accomplish the unthinkable.”

  Danielle nodded. “He tried to steal all the magick on earth. He assumed if he could control it, he could preserve it.”

  “And he didn’t just try,” Frederick interjected. He’d been so quiet up to that point, Rho had forgotten he was sitting right next to her. She wanted to yell at her boss for not telling her all of this when he’d given her that Kamen to protect. It would’ve been nice to know.

  “Unfortunately, that’s true,” Costel agreed. “He didn’t only try. He succeeded.”

  Rho bit her lip again to hold back the dozens of questions swelling in her throat. How could someone actually steal magick? She didn’t know much about the subject, but stealing it couldn’t be an easy task.

  Danielle began to pace the floor. “Mohan had strange powers, much different than any magick movers or fae we had seen before. He could pull magick into himself with his mind. When he cast a spell to strip the magick from this world, it was too much to hold and he had to displace it somewhere. He captured it in a gold locket.”
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  “What he failed to consider,” Costel said, “is that when he stole the magick from the earth, he would harm the entire DarqRealm.”

  “Harm us how?” Rho asked.

  Frederick reached across to give Rho a light pat on the arm. “Our world is linked intimately with magick. Our mate bonds, the wolf and shifter abilities to take alternate forms, the fae and the magick mover’s ability to cast spells and manipulate energy. It’s all tied to magick.”

  “When he took the magick, the vampires lost their ability to turn blood into sustenance. We could drink, but we found no nourishment. Even from our mates,” Danielle said.

  Rho touched her throat, trying not to remember her first days as a vampire, before she’d gotten her fangs under control. Unquenchable, burning thirst with seemingly no end. The vampires must have been in complete agony. Thousands of furious, thirsting vampires, ravaging the earth. Dear… God.

  “What happened to us?” she asked softly.

  Danielle stopped pacing, brows drawn together, the pain of her memories evident in her stare. “The older vampires could control their reaction to the hunger. The young could not. They were destroyed, for the sake of the greater good.”

  Thousands of innocents, dying senselessly. Rho glanced at her covered arms, imagining all of the memorials hiding beneath the sleeves of her shirt already. She couldn’t fathom killing that many more. Her soul couldn’t take it.

  “Who performed the executions?” she asked.

  The queen’s eyes closed as she drew a deep breath, before opening them slowly. “We did, Costel and I. After we were forced to execute so many, we created a special position for that purpose.”

  The poor, delicate Queen didn’t want to get her hands dirty or her soul tarnished, so Rho was her murder maid. Fan-fucking-tastic.