Ellowyn Found: An MM Vampire Trilogy Omnibus Edition Books 1 - 3

by Kayleigh Sky

  “Emek?”

  “I’m not—”

  He stopped, head spinning.

  “You’re not what?”

  That voice came from behind Isaac. Asa stared into the shadows. A vampire. The creature leaned against the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over its chest, smiling at him.

  Camiel.

  Asa struggled up, still keeping his distance. This didn’t make any sense. Isaac and Camiel? Were they setting him up?

  What for? You’re already here.

  “How’d you get in?”

  “Seems your little friend is talented with locks,” said Camiel.

  Standing now, Isaac threw a glare over his shoulder. “I’m skinny, not little.”

  Camiel grinned. “And it bites.”

  “I think this dungeon thing is more decorative than anything else,” Isaac added.

  “Not from where I’m sitting,” Asa murmured.

  Isaac stretched out a hand. “Come on, though. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Anin is following the king, but he might return to guard your cell.” Camiel’s smile widened. “If he does, there’s no getting past him. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “But… why?”

  Camiel reached past Isaac’s waiting hand, grabbed a fistful of Asa’s shirt, and hauled him upright. “That’s probably something you should have asked your handlers, not us.”

  Asa jerked free. “What are you talking about?”

  Camiel grabbed him again and yanked him close. “No time for playing stupid. If you want out of here, we need to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “We’re taking you to the garage,” Isaac said. “I heard Jere sayin’ he was staying in the house overnight, so the garage is safe. You can leave as soon as the storm stops.”

  “All correct,” said Camiel. “Except you aren’t coming with us,” he said to Isaac. “I can see out there for now. You can’t. Too easy to get separated and lost.”

  “But not for me?” asked Asa.

  “You don’t have a lot of choices now, do you?”

  “They want you to be a blood sacrifice,” said Isaac.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” said Camiel. “Nobody’s going to be sacrificing anybody. That’s not the king’s style.”

  “The king isn’t safe,” Isaac whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Asa asked.

  “What an idiot question,” said Camiel. “You’re the one spying on him. And now, you are a loose end. You’re the one in danger, which puts Anin at risk if he returns to guard you, so… Get a fucking move on.”

  He yanked Asa out the door and down the corridor. A shadow from a nearby sconce swallowed the light, and he stumbled over the first steps. Isaac’s hand flattened on Asa’s back, fingers curling into his jacket. Isaac’s shivers vibrated up Asa’s spine. Was the kid cold? Afraid? A dipshit little do-gooder like Asa used to be? Look where that had gotten him.

  He chafed at Isaac’s grip, but the kid hung on. Camiel opened the exterior door and a gust of snow and cold rushed in. He ducked his head, twisting away from it. Camiel grabbed his coat. “Stay with me.”

  “Here,” said Isaac, pushing something heavy against Asa’s chest. “I packed food and water for you.”

  Asa wrapped his free arm around it and had no way to push Isaac away when the kid hugged him.

  “You’re not as tough as you act,” Isaac said into his ear. “But you aren’t alone either. Stay safe, and this’ll work out.”

  Asa wasn’t sure what this was. Running? His whole life had been one big circle back to his beginnings. To Zev. That was his trouble—staying away from Zev. Was Isaac’s this a way of telling Asa to finally give into his heart? That’s what Isaac would do. But Isaac had gotten lucky. He’d found something he loved, and people who cared about him. Asa had to let go of the hate he’d built his whole life on.

  Give in to his fated.

  I found you.

  “Hurry,” said Camiel, and Isaac drew back. Camiel pulled Asa closer. “Hold onto me, and do not let go.”

  Nothing lit the dark. Not a single light beckoned beyond the windows of the house. Not a star or a sliver of moon. The gossamer glow of the snow near the house disappeared past the patio. Asa slung Isaac’s pack onto his shoulder, latched onto the back of Camiel’s coat, and let the vampire drag him into the dark.

  Jesus. Only that morning he’d gone down the same path—a path lost under the snow now. He bent his head, ears ringing as the wind whistled past his hood and under his scarf. The garage stood only a few hundred yards away, but the wind stole his sense of direction.

  Were they lost?

  Was he going to freeze to death in sight of the house?

  His hand slipped free of Camiel’s jacket, and he lurched ahead, swinging his arms until he thudded against something solid. The ground sloped, and a faint light gleamed. A lamp hidden under the eaves of a door. Camiel dragged him inside and pulled the door shut behind them.

  “Come on. We can put on a light in back. I doubt anybody can see down here, but no sense taking chances. Leave as soon as you can. I don’t know what Isaac’s plan was—other than saving you from a blood sacrifice,” he added with a laugh, “but you’ve already had trouble in town.”

  “I know.”

  They crossed the frigid autobay. Asa’s breath bloomed in the air as Camiel led him upstairs to a break room at the back of the garage where he turned on a light and grinned. “Nothing wrong with the genny.”

  “What’s a blood sacrifice?”

  Camiel pushed his hood off his loose and tangled hair. “Oh, an old bit of brutality. Like you humans impaling your enemies on stakes. Qudim revived it during the war though. Anyone wanting the king’s loyalty slaughtered one of the king’s enemies in front of him. Nothing but fun and games in those days, but luckily a practice gone with Qudim where it belongs.”

  Asa set his bag on a table and unwound his scarf. “Thanks, I guess.”

  Camiel laughed. “You guess? Well, I’m not done. I have friends staying in one of the Opal Lake cabins just in case things went sideways for me here.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Behind The Huntsman. Cabin 5,” Camiel added. “I won’t leave until the king allows it, so you’re on your own, but if you tell my friends Camiel of the Mithrinins sent you, they won’t hurt you.”

  “Mithrinins?”

  “My mother’s family.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You’re a suspicious bastard, aren’t you? I wasn’t exactly planning it. I’m a bad guy by default. I was born with the name Nezzarram. It’s in my genes, and as it turns out, I enjoy turning shit on its head. So why not help you? But trust me, I have no agenda other than my own entertainment. So if you’ll excuse me, I have a hot toddy and twins waiting for me.”

  “I didn’t kill Og.”

  Camiel started, stilling with his hood pulled halfway onto his head. A corner of his mouth lifted. “I know, human. I would not help you otherwise.”

  “The killer is still in the house.”

  “Yes. I’ve done the math. I presume the king’s detective will deal with that when he returns.”

  “Returns?”

  “He and Uriah took Og’s body to the authorities. I assume they’re waiting out the storm in town. In the meantime, the king has his enforcers.”

  Asa’s heart pumped fire through his veins. Cold only a moment ago, now he sweated under his coat. Zev was alone. Suddenly, the hundred of yards of snow between them yawned like miles. Impassible.

  “Don’t forget,” said Camiel on his way out the door. “Cabin 5.”

  The echo of his steps on the stairs died under the moan of the storm, and Asa was stuck with no way to get to Zev.

  Except he had to.

  44

  Game Lost

  Zev bopped the bottle of whiskey against his leg and screwed his eyes into a frown. When had he picked up the bottle? His memory of exiting the dungeon was
a blur. But obviously, he’d taken the whiskey with him. Now they were upstairs, outside the foyer, the house eerily quiet.

  He drank and tottered.

  No matter. Anin hung close behind him. Close enough to catch him if he stumbled backward.

  They continued through the foyer where an enforcer stood at the bottom of the stairs, another on the landing above.

  In the hall outside his rooms, Zev swung around. “Go back.”

  “Sire?”

  “I’m safe here. I want protection for Emek.”

  Anin frowned but nodded. “I’ll call for another enforcer to keep watch.”

  Zev smiled and knocked on the door to his study. “Steel core. I’m safe. Justin will be here soon. Go. I trust you with Emek.”

  Anin nodded and backed up. “Go inside, sire. Lock up.”

  Zev pushed open the door. The room was dark, the fire only embers. He set his bottle on the coffee table and added wood to the grate until the flames caught again. Then he straightened, gripped the mantle, and stared into the hearth while his skin pulled tight in the heat.

  Shadows danced on the walls now.

  He turned, switched on a lamp, and froze.

  The scene on the floor bewildered him, so wrong it took a moment to register. Then anger flooded him. The chessboard lay upside down on the floor, pieces scattered.

  The bastard.

  Something about this pierced him like a knife in the heart. Got him at his weakest point. This was their game. A conversation without the words neither one of them had the balls to say. An interaction where the only risk was a lost king. A courtship fate had made impossible to really consummate because Emek… hated him.

  He was Zev’s enemy.

  And he’d wrecked the one good thing between them. Which meant Emek had lied again. He’d never meant to come back.

  Zev stooped to pick up a king and stumbled to his knees. His head swam as he fell back on his ass. The poor bastard had its head chopped off. Zev gritted his teeth against a surge of bile and patted at the floor, collecting the pieces that surrounded him. He set them in a row. They were all in one piece, but he was missing a rook, a knight, a pawn, and the other king. All white. Was that a coincidence? Emek was always white. Why were only the white pieces missing?

  The fire popped, and a log crumbled. Sweat ran on his skin, and he burned inside. The storm still shook the windows. A longing to feel the snow on his skin welled up inside him. He yanked his shirt off and kicked his loafers away. One skidded into a chair. There! A nugget of white against the floorboards behind the chair. He crawled over and got it. The rook. His pulse sped up, and he shivered, though the heat still licked at his skin. Something or someone had gnawed off the piece’s crenellations. Were those teeth—fang—marks? This wasn’t Emek’s doing. His eyes blurred. He blinked, but it didn’t matter.

  Somebody was trying to tell him something.

  He was the headless king, but who was the rook? Moss? And the knight? Was that Otto or Uriah?

  Crouching low, face to the floor, he swept his gaze under the furniture. After a moment, he got up again. The other pieces were here. They had to be. This was a message obviously. And he already knew what the message was. The tingles up his spine reminded him of the danger he was in as he stood in the middle of the room, staring at his bedroom door. Only the one to the hall was locked. But the study door had been locked too. Nobody hid in there. Still… The tingles crept up his spine again, but his bladder drove him across the room.

  After he peed, he scouted underneath the bedroom furniture. Nothing. He pulled back the bedding. Nothing there. Nothing out of place in his drawers.

  He returned to the study.

  The fire flickered, burning a deep orange, tiny flames licking the blackened logs. He picked up a fresh one, and something clattered to the bottom of the pile. He added the log and shifted the pile piece by piece until he found the second king.

  Beheaded.

  His fangs dropped, nicking his inner lip. The metal tang sent a surge of energy through him, blowing away the fogginess in his head. He curled his lip, and his thundering heart pushed his blood to the surface of his skin. All his weariness blew away like everything in the path of the storm.

  He hissed, and a growl vibrated in his throat.

  Like hell they were taking him out before he was ready.

  He stormed across the room, yanked open the door, and stared into the hall. Justin approached. “Sire?”

  “Have Otto and Uriah returned?”

  “No, sire.”

  He made himself smile again. “Are you my enforcer?”

  Justin nodded. It wasn’t a stretch. Justin had been an enforcer in his youth and Lem Goran’s personal guard before becoming his servant and later Zev’s butler. He didn’t discount Justin’s power. Though fifty, he was a vampire, and strong enough to lend his help.

  “As soon as the others secure the house,” Justin said, “Moss will replace me. Perhaps you’d rather have Anin. I can take his place.”

  “No, Justin, I would rather you wait outside my rooms.”

  “I am honored.”

  “As am I.” He closed the door halfway, then stopped again. “Has anyone been in my study? To clean or—”

  “To clean, yes.” Justin frowned. “I can check the roster for a name.”

  “After your relief.”

  “Of course, sire.”

  Zev closed the door and stared across the room. There! Another chess piece, this one wedged behind a candlestick on the mantle. He strode over and removed it. A tack protruded from the knight’s chest. Otto. The rook was Moss, the knight, Otto.

  Who was the pawn?

  Uriah?

  He gazed around the room, lifted the cushion on a chair, dug through the few drawers in the room, pulled up the cushions on the couch and—

  His gaze dropped to the chessboard still on the floor. A dark line formed along the top edge of the storage compartment. He hurried over and picked it up. Something rattled inside. He set it on the table and pulled the drawer out. The pawn rolled to the back. More red than white. Blood smeared. The sacrifice. The victim.

  Emek.

  45

  Snowbound

  The light vanished in a sheet of snow.

  Asa stopped. The house wasn’t far away. A hundred yards. Fifty. He stretched his arms out. He’d been in a grove of pines, which meant he was close, but now his arms cut through empty air. The flashlight he’d found flickered, already losing its charge, but the snow only bounced the light back at him anyway.

  Shit.

  Where was he?

  Should he go back?

  But Otto and Uriah were gone, and everything in him screamed a warning. The clear skies of that morning seemed days away.

  The storm had come too quickly. Like a clawed hand descending into the valley. A hand flaying the skin off him, leaving him bloody and shaky. A cackle bubbled in his throat. Was he going to die in sight of the house? So fucking laughable. He’d escaped being drained to death in a desolate field only to die steps away from the goal.

  Minutes away from Zev. Who was in danger. The fear of somebody hurting Zev raged through his chest.

  Zev!

  But nothing came to him. Isaac spoke to his fated love.

  You hate yours.

  Right. Fated love not fated enemy. But here he was, freezing to death for somebody he’d dreamed of making pay for his dad’s murder.

  Would Zev die too?

  Would they be together again?

  Could he die in this snowstorm? It wasn’t a blizzard. He had a coat, scarf, and clothes. Thermal underwear. But he had to get back to the garage, because he had no idea where the house lay anymore. He bent low and flicked on the flashlight, looking for his footsteps in the snow. But they were gone, blurred by the flurries falling in a slant before his eyes. He switched off the flashlight. If one of Zev’s enforcers found him, they’d just lock him up. Then he’d never get to Zev.

  He plunged on. A few yards
ahead something yellow winked. A light in the house? Keeping his head down, he made a straight line toward it. The wind pushed at him, and he leaned into it. Was that right? Had he been walking into the wind a minute ago? A few seconds later, a gust slammed against his side. He turned himself back into it, hit a tree, and wrapped his arms around it. Was this the grove again? Which meant he was going in fucking circles.

  He pushed off.

  The churn of a buzz saw filled his head. He panted into his scarf and gasped as his hands sank into the snow. Why?

  Fuck, he was going to die. Zev was going to die. And maybe Isaac. What if Isaac tried to help Zev? Well, of course he would, because that was Isaac. If Asa had gotten away and found the necklaces, there’d be no reason to hurt Isaac. Solomon would have had what he wanted. But now… If anybody found out the kid had helped Asa…

  Well, Asa deserved to die. But Isaac didn’t. He reared up and staggered to his feet.

  Jesus Christ, what had he done?

  He had to get to the house, one way or the other. “Hey!... Help!”

  Nothing. No echo. No sound but the ripping wind.

  “Zev!... Isaac!...”

  After a few seconds he curled at the waist and plodded on. The wailing wind pierced his brain. He hit something hard and lost his footing. Flailing, he thudded into the snow and smacked his head on a rock. Pain bloomed behind his eyes.

  Fuck.

  Something bent over him.

  “Who are you?!”

  Asa… Emek… Who was asking?

  Was he dead? The cold had receded. The sounds of the storm floated to him like a lullaby, and a gray cloud filled his head, dulling the pain.

  “Get up!”

  The voice cracked like lightning. An angel of vengeance. It didn’t matter. Asa didn’t want vengeance anymore.

  But he wasn’t going to get anything he wanted now. He closed his eyes and let the dark take over.

  46

  Gambit

  “Go back,” Zev said over his shoulder.

  “You need protection,” Justin said.