Costel gazed with compassion at his mate. “The DarqRealm United Council intervened for the welfare of all races. The most powerful magick movers on the Council had to pull their collective energy to muster enough magick to seal the dimension, and that still required… special assistance. Magick was restored to the world. Mohan was apprehended quickly and banished to a prison in Etherealis. We chose that dimension because of the strength of the magick there. Any less and we feared his escape would be only too easy.”
Rho’s jaw swung open. He’d been banished, not killed. Why would they let him live?
Costel shook his head. “He tied himself to the locket. If he dies, the magick will be destroyed with him. The Council couldn’t dissolve the spell he’d cast, but they did manage to twist it. They divided the locket’s magick into five separate pieces, each parcel stored in a gemstone.”
“The Kamens?” Rho asked.
The king nodded. “A royal family of each major race was given one Kamen to protect. The doors to Etherealis were closed permanently to keep Mohan in prison and keep our magick safe. We’ve all been trapped in this dimension since.”
“How long have we all been stuck?”
“A thousand years.”
She couldn’t believe it. “A thousand years?” No wonder she’d never heard of Etherealis. No one else probably had, either. Generations had passed since the gates were closed, their existence now only a myth in fine print somewhere. Why would he give her something so important to protect?
“We needed someone outside of the royal family to shelter the Kamen,” the queen answered, as if she could follow Rho’s thoughts. “The executioner has always been tasked with the role of guardianship. Should our rule over the vampires be compromised, the Kamen must stay protected.”
Damn it. Frederick had told her the responsibility of protecting the Kamen fell to her in the event of his death. Obviously he’d neglected to point out the more important, protect-this-or-everyone-dies part.
The weight of her guilt doubled, and she felt heavier in her seat. “Oh, God.” Her gaze shot up to Frederick and he met her stare. “William.” She’d been so distracted with everything going on, she’d completely forgotten about the boy she’d executed earlier. The one who relayed a cryptic message just before his quick descent into dust.
“Who is William?” Costel asked.
Frederick heaved a sigh. “Today in court, a man was sentenced to death for killing a female’s mate. Before he died, he said something about wheels being set in motion.”
All sensation drained from Rho’s face. “And he said he had what he’d come here for.”
Costel’s brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed in thought. “That’s all he said?”
“That’s all.” Frederick shook his head. “He turned to ash before we could question him.”
“What would someone want with all of these Kamens?” Rho asked.
Costel’s eyes narrowed. “Each of the Kamens holds a fifth of the magick in this world. If reunited, the doors to Etherealis would be all too easy to open and Mohan could once again retain the control over our world.”
A sudden wave of shame washed over her as she stared at the coffee in her mug. She knew the Kamen held some powers, but she’d never imagined this.
The key to another dimension. The safety of the DarqRealm.
It was so much worse than she’d ever anticipated. Shit, if she’d known it was this important, she would have locked it down like Fort Knox and had the Guard watching it around the clock.
The king shook his head. “There are few alive today who remember Mohan and Etherealis. The queen and I never explained the power of the Kamen to anyone other than Frederick. The less people know about these potential sources of power, the better.” He rose from his chair and paced toward the center of the room. “The Council has called for an emergency meeting. We leave the day after the Winter Solstice.”
That was two entire days away. “You don’t want me to leave now?” With their entire world at stake, surely they couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for the slow-moving wheels of bureaucracy.
Frederick leaned forward. “Will you be requiring my attendance?” He had always joined Costel in matters of diplomacy, and from what Rho understood, the Council gathered once a year to resolve interracial disputes. Beyond that, the races governed themselves.
But a potential disaster of this magnitude sure seemed like a legit reason to hold an emergency session.
“I would like for you to attend with me, yes.” Costel swiveled to motion to his mate. “Danielle shall stay behind here to handle any business that arises.”
Rho’s gaze flew to Frederick. Was she being fired?
Since being appointed executioner, Rho had always been tasked with holding down the fort when the king left town. Always. With a mate as protective as Costel, Danielle rarely ventured into public.
The thought of getting fired struck her with both relief and… disappointment, surprisingly. It would be wonderful to never spill innocent blood again, but to be unemployed would mean she had no purpose. And eternity was a painfully long time to be stuck with no direction or motivation.
The queen came to stand at Rho’s side and squeezed her shoulder. Rho stared at her feet. Swamped with humiliation, she couldn’t stand to look at them. Any of them. As a human, she’d never been fired from a job. Not even when she’d worked at the Gap folding clothes at Christmas and had sucked at it.
Maybe they would kill her, now that she’d proven herself completely useless.
“We have other plans for you, Rhowen,” the queen said softly.
Costel turned and settled his hands on his hips. “She is right. Your time would be better served on a new mission.”
Frederick’s brows knotted, his eyes full of genuine concern. “Mission?”
Rho gulped, trying to ignore the plunging sensation as her stomach dropped to her feet. This didn’t sound promising.
“The Council is excellent in matters of diplomacy and procedure, but they move too slowly. I spoke with the leaders in our area, since the Kamen disappeared here in Austin. They all pledged to send one representative to assist us. Rho, you will join this team as our agent.”
Rho nodded. She’d messed this up, so she’d fix it.
“No.” Frederick’s stern tone caught her off guard. “Uncle, Rhowen is my responsibility. I sired her, thus her welfare falls under my jurisdiction. I won’t send her off to be slaughtered.”
Costel held up a hand, silencing the prince’s protest. “There is no reason why she cannot be charged with this responsibility.”
“Send me instead,” Frederick offered.
The king frowned as he settled back into his chair. “That’s ridiculous. You are the heir to the throne. Her lack of forethought is the reason it is now missing, so its retrieval is her responsibility.”
Rho cringed. That last comment stung a little, even if it was true.
Frederick’s nostrils flared. She could sense the frustration mounting in his mind, a massive knot he couldn’t unravel, as he tried to devise ways to argue with Costel’s logic. But he came up with nothing. Neither could she.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
Costel gave her a grim smile. “Yes, you will. And you will not return until you succeed.”
“What should I do if I somehow—”
“You will succeed. Or you will die.”
Rho’s blood froze in her veins, her brain only barely registering the hiss escaping Frederick’s lips. In a game with stakes that were already too high, someone else had pushed her chips onto the table and forced her hand all-in.
Costel leaned toward his nephew, something resembling sympathy on his face. “I know you care for this child you’ve created, Frederick, but I will not appear weak. If she f
ails, people will learn of the Kamens. Punishment will be expected.”
“You cannot do this, Uncle.” Frederick’s voice was strained.
“I just did.” He turned his attention back to Rho and flipped open a notebook on his desk. “You’ll be introduced to your teammates at the Winter Solstice Ball, which we are hosting. You’ll leave the following day. No one aside from your team and their race leaders are to know about any of this.”
Rho nodded, her mind numb. Frederick crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, his anger reading clearly on his face. There was nothing either of them could do about it. Power would always be the first priority to Costel, even over family.
“The Ball is in two days,” Costel reminded them, not bothering to look up as he flicked through the pages of the notebook. “Rhowen, the queen will see to it that you are dressed appropriately. I expect you to be well fed, packed and ready by then.”
Frederick rose from his chair and Rho followed his move. The sun was close to the horizon now, tugging on her consciousness with each passing moment. Words weren’t necessary between the two of them as they descended down the corridors and toward their bed chambers.
She’d been selected for a mission so vital, failure could mean the loss of magick and possible death of both her and her species. Success could mean salvation of their world.
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
Chapter Four
Staring at the ceiling, Rho pulled the comforter to her chin and tried to organize her thoughts. She’d replayed the incident over and over again but got zilch. Nada. Nothing made any sense.
Someone had broken into her cavern, stolen the relic she’d sworn to protect. And from right under her nose.
Growling, she tossed the comforter and rolled off the soft mattress, her fuzzy socks offering little padding as her feet hit the hard tile floor. She stretched her arms to the ceiling, her black cotton tank riding up with the movement, the cool cavern air brushing against her stomach.
She ran a hand through her matted hair and grabbed a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and some panties from the wardrobe, avoiding the mirror on the way to the shower. Bedhead wasn’t a good look.
Usually she required three cups of coffee and a shower to break through her usual muddle, but today wasn’t one of those days. She had a mission.
A quick shower and clothing change later, she wandered into the den, where she found Frederick in his usual spot.
“Where are you going, looking so grumpy?” He sat on the sofa, reading the Austin-American Statesman, as he did every nightfall. The man was a creature of habit.
“Hocus Pocus,” she answered.
“The magick movers’ store?” Frederick shuffled the pages but didn’t look up. “What do you need from there?”
“I’m going to do a little research before the Ball tomorrow night. And speaking of that, do I have to wear a dress?”
He tipped the newspaper down to glower. “Yes. As I told you earlier, it’s the type of occasion that requires ladies to wear dresses.”
She grimaced. “I hate dresses.”
A grunt escaped his lips as he hid behind the paper. “Well, suck it up. And add feeding to your list of errands. You need your strength.”
She snatched her purse off the couch as she headed for the door.
“Rho?” Frederick’s quiet summons stopped her mid-stride.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Be careful out there.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “I will.” She pulled her purse higher on her shoulder and headed into the cold December night.
The cool wind rushed against her skin, sweeping her waist-length mane behind her as she emerged onto the porch of her coven’s small, ranch-style house. Well, technically, the house sat above the entrance of their cavern, surrounded by fifty acres of land. No one actually lived in it.
Passageways hidden beneath the ground led to its basement, cleverly disguising their vampire lair as a simple country home. Vampires came and went. And the humans never suspected a thing.
A few vehicles lined the driveway. She clicked the button on her keychain to unlock her black Porsche, a gift from Frederick for her birthday last month. She’d tried to refuse his excessive generosity, but when he’d insisted, she didn’t put up much of a fight. That Porsche was her dream car.
The driver’s seat was cold against her legs as she settled in, the combination of leather seats and saddle soap riding the air. She turned the key in the ignition, the engine answering with a roar before lowering to a soft purr.
Her lips curled in satisfaction. Damn, that sound was sexy.
A short drive later, she pulled into the driveway of the Tradare home. She slid the car into park and stepped out then double-checked her stash of weapons. As she strode up to the sidewalk to ring the doorbell, she tried not to fidget too much.
Every magick mover had a unique gift, and that made her nervous. Anyone who could move something without touching it was someone to keep an eye on, in her book.
She pressed the button and heard the chime ring inside the house.
A few moments later, Adelle Tradare answered, her thick, shoulder-length auburn hair complementing her intelligent brown eyes. She scanned Rho from nose to toes.
Adelle stayed on the other side of the door and arched a brow. “Can I help you?”
“I need to speak with Eldon.”
“May I ask why?”
“It’s personal.” Rho shot her an irritated look to shut the door on further questions.
Adelle’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be right back.”
Voices muffled from the other side of the door, followed by the pounding of heavy feet against stairs. Eldon was definitely home.
The front door swung open, and he stepped out. In the weeks since she’d last seen him, she’d forgotten the chiseled features of his face.
His shaggy, disheveled hair reminded her of her favorite blend of dark-roasted coffee. A section had fallen into his face and she fought the urge to brush it away. That would only reveal his stunning eyes, twinkling like shimmering blue topaz against the porch light. A beautiful man.
But she would not allow herself to be distracted by man candy.
Looking away quickly, she fought the impulses threatening to swallow her whole. Her age practically made her an undead infant, so while the hunger for blood was easy to control these days, lust wasn’t always so content to warm the bench.
For most vampires, blood and sex went hand-in-hand. But not for her. She would never allow lust to overpower her common sense. Get it under control.
“Rho Vasile, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
Clearly he hadn’t started a vampire fan club since their last meeting. His statuesque frame towered over her, regal and strong, but she refused to be intimidated by his size or his attitude.
She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me. Your magick didn’t work. What I was protecting is gone. You and I need to talk.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger, leaving it centered over his heart. “Right now. Privately.”
His eyes blazed bright blue. Power exploded from his aura, radiating pain through her hand and up her forearm.
Shit. That ley line fire felt like taking a hit from a Taser gun. She snatched her finger from his chest, the burn blasting through her shoulder. Suppressing the urge to shake the tingles from her fingertips, she clenched a fist.
His cool eyes met hers. “That was unnecessary.” The unusually calm tone of his voice threw her off-balance.
Clearing her throat, she lifted her chin to meet his stare. “I need to speak with you.”
“Are you going to behave yourself if I let you inside?” Eldon raised a dark brow.
She bit back a snide remark, settling with, “I’ll do my best.”
Eldon opened the door and nudged his head toward the entryway. “Come in, then.”
Rho stepped through the doorway and glanced around the small entrance, seeking a distraction. The décor was tasteful and modest, exactly the same as the last time she’d been here. She’d swear the flowers in the vase were unchanged if she didn’t know by scent they were real.
With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him. “Follow me.”
He strolled past her casually, his heartbeat a rhythmic series of thumps. The trailing scent of soap, clean sweat, and spice were as unique to him as a fingerprint, the combination awakening her hunger.
She needed to make this trip fast. He smelled entirely too delicious and if she touched him, he could literally light her ass on fire.
Shaking her head, she tried to get her thoughts under control and her fangs in check.
Eldon. Kamens. Pissed. Got it.
Without a word, she followed him down the narrow hallway and into the main part of the store, which appeared to be a converted dining room. A black cat peeked out from a doorway and she flinched. Damn cats. Didn’t they know Eldon had her on edge enough?
The feline retreated back into the room it came from, and she shook her head at herself. One of these days, she’d learn to not let them freak her out. Vampires didn’t have asthma attacks.
Glancing around, she sized up the décor. She hadn’t been in this area of the shop before. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with everything magick movers needed—to do whatever they did.
One section held gemstones and crystals, lined up in colorful rows. She recognized a few of them from her high school geology class. Agate, obsidian, bloodstone, and turquoise sat like a happy rainbow of minerals, waiting to be purchased and put to use. A few were wrapped with colored wires and marked at higher prices. Why on earth would someone wrap a rock in wire, and who would pay for that?
Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series) Page 4