by M. K. Dawn
“Come on, Darrien.” Oliver grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to the door.
“Wait.” Darrien held his ground, raising his voice this time. “Even a single splinter from that arrow, if left in, will kill her.”
“Don’t worry.” Dr. Bernard kept his focus on Evie and the wound he examined. “We’ll take good care of her.”
Darrien didn’t think he understood the seriousness of the situation. “The bullets that kill vampires—that kill immortals—they are made from this wood. She’s a werewolf. A single splinter will kill her.”
Dr. Bernard glanced at Darrien. “We won't miss a single one.”
“Come on.” Oliver pulled Darrien to the door. “we need to let them work. She’s well cared for.”
Darrien left the room and slumped on the floor, head in his hands. “Shit.”
Oliver sat down beside him and gave Darrien a few minutes to gather himself. Tears choked him to the point he could barely catch his breath, but this wasn’t the time to weep. Evie would be okay; there was no other outcome he could accept.
“How did this happen?” Oliver said in a hushed tone. “You mentioned witches?”
Darrien lifted his head. “Do you remember?”
“We all do.” Oliver removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “It was the strangest thing. One second we were Sanguines, the next vampires. Everything we believed for the last hundred years…it was all a lie. How is that possible?”
“The Immortal Council chairs—the six of them—they’re responsible. They were a bunch of witches who wanted immortality and were cursed by being turned into vampires.”
Oliver’s mouth dropped open. “Want to run that by me again?”
“Oh, it gets better.” Darrien leaned against the wall. “They tried to break the vampire curse and created werewolves with claws that if they pierce our heart, will kill us.”
“Explains a lot about what happened at the Immortal Institute.”
Darrien stared at the door to the room where the doctor worked on Evie, anxious waiting for someone to give them an update. “It was a slaughter.”
“Were you the only two that got out?”
“Samantha and Ethan did too. A little worse for wear.”
Oliver tapped his foot. “How?”
“Ethan. He’s a werewolf. A pack leader. He got bit, and they took him to turn at their compound. The werewolves that attacked knew his father and brothers.”
“And they took the rest of you there?”
Darrien yawned. “Evie is one of them—well, she is now. They locked up me and Samantha—her in a house, me in a dungeon. Ethan got us out. Then we went on a little adventure to find the witches who were supposed help, but instead want to kill all immortals. Which is why we’re here.”
“How can witches kill every immortal?”
Darrien closed his eyes. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I find it keeps the mind from focusing on other things.” Oliver hung his head. “So you’re here to ask for help in stopping the witches? Not for C.J.?”
“C.J.?” Darrien popped up. “What about him?”
“You don’t know?” Oliver shook his head. “It's been all over the TV.”
“We’ve spent nearly a month either on a ship or in the rural towns of Brazil. Never found a place with good reception.”
“So you don’t know what’s happening in the Immortal Realm?”
Darrien straightened. “We know they are kidnapping and killing humans publicly. What does that have to do with C.J.?”
“He and Laurent are being held captive along with several of the other Forsaken members.” Oliver’s voice cracked. “They are scheduled to be executed. A televised execution if you can believe it.”
Darrien’s heart thrashed. “When?”
“This weekend,” he said through a clenched jaw. “The heirs are calling it a ball. It’s sickening. We have a plan, not that we think we have the numbers to make a difference.”
Darrien patted Oliver on the knee. “What a coincidence. That’s the exact party I came here to get help crashing.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
One more hour. If Silvaria didn’t return, Samantha would take a chance and go to her hut to find out what happened. She was supposed to stop by after, but hadn’t. Maybe she didn’t think it was safe to pop by with an update. It wasn’t the most logical explanation—Silvaria had been showing up at their hut at will since they arrived—but it kept her sane for the moment.
Samantha peeled herself from the window sill and made her way into the kitchen for a quick bite and some blood. The bottles they had supplied tasted different—stale—since the veil of deceit had fallen. Since Samantha hadn’t lived before the Great Reveal, she didn’t have the extensive experiences older vampires did with fresh human blood. Still, she craved it all the same. She’d never admit it to anyone else, but she struggled being around Silvaria. Every exposed vein seemed to throb, taunting her with what she couldn’t have. How Darrien lived more than a hundred years without the option of blood from a bottle, Samantha couldn’t imagine. These days it felt like a few hours drove her to the brink of madness.
At the hour mark, Samantha slipped on her shoes and opened the front door, testing the tips of her fingers in the sun to check if Silvaria’s spell still held. When her skin didn’t fry, she headed down the steps, determined to hunt down Silvaria and find out how things had gone this morning.
“Can I help you with something?”
Samantha startled at the unexpected voice that came from behind her. For a split second, she considered pretending she hadn’t heard the woman and continued on her way, but where would she go? She couldn’t go to Silvaria’s with this woman hot on her trail. Though no one had told them they couldn’t speak with the witch, Silvaria had made it clear most would find their friendship suspicious. As the last remaining witch who had yet to fall victim to dark magic, Silvaria had become an outcast to the point she didn’t participate in any coven activity. With the malicious plan Guinevere had in store for the immortals of the world, Samantha befriending a witch who sided with the God of Light would not go over well.
“I said,” the woman seized Samantha’s arm and rotated her around, “how can I help you?”
“Oh,” Samantha forced a smile, “were you talking to me?”
The amazon of a woman made a show of surveying the surrounding empty area. “Do you see anyone else?”
“No.” Samantha had seen no one since they arrived.
The amazon stuck a firm hand on her hip, giving off a warrior vibe even though her attire screamed fair maiden. “So I ask you again: how can I help you?”
Samantha did her best innocent impression. “I was just going for a walk. Is that a problem?”
“I have orders not to allow you to leave the confines of your hut.” She hauled Samantha back to the stairs. “Please return inside.”
“What?” Samantha yanked her arm away. “Since when am I not allowed to leave? Have I done something wrong? Am I a prisoner? I thought I was a guest. An ally of the witches.”
“This is for your own safety.”
Samantha sucked in a breath. “Safety? Has something happened?”
“There was an incident this morning.”
The hairs on Samantha’s arms rose. “What sort of incident?”
“Nothing that concerns you.” The amazon pushed Samantha up the stairs. She was surprisingly strong against Samantha’s enhanced muscles.
“If it doesn’t concern me, then why do I have to stay in my hut?”
The woman swung open the door and shoved Samantha inside. “Stay in here…please.”
Samantha didn’t have a chance to respond before she slammed the door in her face.
She staggered to the couch, her throat tight and stomach heavy. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes and tried to come to terms with another mess in which she’d found herself in the middle. Worse yet, she’d dragged her friends along. If she hadn’t befriended Evie
in the nightclub—forced Ethan to return to the human realm after the raid—none of this would have happened. The world would have stayed just as it was: repetitive, predictable, unjust. She could go on, but what was the point? As painful as her life had been, Samantha knew it was worth every ounce of misery she’d experienced. The truth, as difficult as it was, had been exposed.
They could never go back to the way things were. She would make sure of that. It was the least she could do.
Her eyes fluttered as exhaustion took over. A short nap wouldn’t hurt. She would need her strength for the fight ahead.
A light knock drew Samantha from sleep, bringing with it a ripple of fear. Samantha shuffled to the door, confused at the lack of sun peeking through the window. Hadn’t she just closed her eyes a few minutes ago?
She tried to calm her nerves before answering. The last thing she wanted was to draw unwanted questions. Darrien was right, she was a horrible liar.
Cracking the door, Samantha peered out to find the same witch who’d fetched them for the celebration the first day. Guinevere’s errand boy, Laras, his brown hair pulled up in a man-bun and sour expression on his face.
“Can I help you?”
He didn’t bother with formalities. “Come with me.”
Being ordered around like this would not fly. “Excuse me? Not too long ago they told me to stay in my hut. Now you’re saying it’s okay—it’s safe—to leave?”
“Guinevere requires your opinion on a serious matter that pertains to you directly. Do you wish me to go back and tell her you refused to come along?”
She forced herself not to chew on her lip. “Are my friends okay?”
“See for yourself,” he said with a sinister grin, waving her out the door.
Samantha didn’t want to go; she knew whatever awaited her couldn’t be good. She hated not having someone to talk to; to reassure her that everything would be okay. That they would find a way out of this mess together.
With heavy feet, she lumbered behind Laras through the village to the center of town. “I thought we were going to see Guinevere?”
“She and the others await our presence in the town’s center.”
“I don’t understand.” Samantha picked up speed until she walked beside Laras. “What’s going on?”
“You really think I’m going to tell you?”
Samantha kept her temper in check. “Why is it a secret?”
Laras stopped and to turned to face her. “It’s not a secret for anyone but you. That’s what happens when you betray us.”
“Betray the witches?” Samantha’s heart constricted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grabbed her arm and continued to the center of town, half dragging Samantha behind him. “Has anyone ever told you you're a terrible liar?”
Samantha didn’t respond, figuring it was a rhetorical question. The fear plaguing her this morning had grown to the point of near terror. What if they captured her friends and held them in the town square, ready to be executed when she arrived? Then what would she do? What could she do? One against a coven of magical beings? They’d all be dead before she made a move. She would have to be more cunning if they were going to survive.
“Over there.” Laras pushed her out of the ally into the opening that was the town’s square.
“Oh my God,” Samantha raced towards a bound and bloodied Silvaria who wept in the middle of the square. It wasn’t until she reached the mid-point she realized her mistake. Samantha skidded to a stop, but the damage had been done.
“I see the two of you have met.” The crowd parted and Guinevere emerged from the shadows. “What a pity.”
Samantha hadn’t noticed it before, but the witches that scattered around the courtyard had now gathered to form a circle around her and Silvaria.
“What’s going on?” Samantha shivered at the abrupt chill in the air. “Why is this woman bound?”
“This woman?” The corner of Guinevere’s mouth twitched. “I believe you know her name.”
Silvaria’s swollen eyes looked up at Samantha, pleading for help. Samantha didn’t know what to do: lie or tell as much of the truth as she could without giving away everything they had done—everything she knew.
“Your silence is telling.” Guinevere circled Samantha, her black lace dress dragging along the ground. “Did you know each witch has a uniqueness to their magic that is unlike any other? It’s like a fingerprint; no two are alike. Most are similar, but there are subtle differences if you know what to look for.”
Samantha stood her ground, trying not to let herself be intimidated by Guinevere’s powerful presence. “What does any of that have to do with me?”
“When I first met your group, I noticed two of your friends had been cursed.”
“Cursed?” Samantha’s hand flew to her chest as she feigned shock. “What do you mean?”
Guinevere’s face hardened. “You know exactly what I’m speaking of.”
“If you knew they were cursed,” Samantha tried to keep her anger in check, “why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Excuse me,” Guinevere snapped. “It’s at my discretion what information I disclose.”
Samantha met the eyes of several witches, none whom looked to be on her side. “What does any of this have to do with this witch?”
Guinevere kneeled in front of Silvaria. “Games will get you nowhere, little girl. You know this witch’s name. No point in denying it.”
Samantha’s eyes met Silvaria, who gave her a small nod. “Fine. What does any of this have to do with Silvaria?”
“Well,” Guinevere smeared blood across Silvaria’s face, “she is the one who removed your friends’ curses—without permission, I might add.”
Tears rolled from Silvaria’s dull eyes, but she didn’t speak. Didn’t deny the accusations. Whatever they had done to her before Samantha had arrived must have been horrific for this spirited woman not to defend herself.
That wouldn’t stop Samantha from speaking on Silvaria’s behalf. “How do you know she was the one who removed the curses?”
“Like I said earlier, each witch leaves a unique indicator. Since you already knew that, I assume you ask because you know she cast a spell to mask her magic.” Guinevere rose to her feet and turned to Samantha. “A brilliant spell we were unaware she was capable of, but she forgot one thing. Her magic comes from the God of Light, which also leaves a mark. As she is the only one left in our coven who worships that God…well, it is easy enough to figure out who betrayed us.”
“Betrayed you?” It made no sense. “How? All she did was remove two curses.”
Guinevere sneered. “Curses cast by one of my witches.”
Samantha took a wobbly step backward. “Why would you do that? You need me alive and all Evie wanted to do was kill me.”
“Hate you, yes, but not kill. The curses were meant to separate your group. Seems we underestimated how close the four of you are.”
“Why?” Samantha wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m here and said I would help. My friends being here didn’t change that.”
“Then why did they leave in such a hurry?”
Samantha clenched her jaw. “You said they could leave.”
“By boat, not by magic.”
A lump formed in Samantha’s throat. “Because it would take them more than a week to get back? By then you would have already cast the spell against the Immortals. You’re afraid if they were there, they’d figure out what the spell really does—kill all immortals—and would try to stop you.”
“I must admit, I didn’t think you would figure it out. Guess we have Silvaria to thank for that as well.” Guinevere rotated around to face the group of witches. “Pity we need them both. The God of Darkness requires a sacrifice. No matter. The four who fled cannot build an army large enough to stop us—not in two days' time. Make no mistake, they will come, but we’ll be ready for them. Nothing will stop us from ridding the world of the monstrosity th
e Primordials created. With their deaths, we will be free of the darkness.”
The town square erupted as the witches cheered. Bonfires blazed and food and drink appeared. Music blared at an ear-shattering volume. The witches scattered—including Guinevere—leaving the two women alone. As much as they could be alone in the middle of the celebration.
Samantha sank next to Silvaria and grasped her bound hand. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Silvaria squeezed her hand and leaned closer, her voice full of vigor. “Everything is happening just the way we planned.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
“Evie!” Ethan screamed as the sight of his injured sister—blood gushing from her torso—faded into darkness. His voice carried through the nothingness and echoed among the trees when the sun hit his eyes.
Nikko cupped his hand over Ethan’s mouth, silencing his pain. “Darrien will take care of her. Reach out to her though your pack connection if you must, but be quick. We must focus on the task at hand.”
Ethan centered his attention on the bond they shared, not only as twins but pack members. It took less than a minute for him zero in on her essence. “She’s in a lot of pain, but her heartbeat is strong.”
Relief washed over him followed by determination. Two days from now, it wouldn’t just be one life in danger but almost everyone he’d ever cared about.
Nikko patted him on the back. “Good. We are near Tito’s compound. Most likely within the parameters of their patrol.”
“I’m counting on it.” Ethan tried to stand but Nikko pulled him back to the ground.
“What do you mean?”
Ethan lifted his nose to the air and inhaled, eager to catch the scent of a wolf nearby. “I’m going to surrender.”
Nikko cursed under his breath. “They will kill you on sight.”
“No, they won't.” He hoped. “If they wanted to kill us, we would have been dead by now.” Ethan had been mulling this over for weeks. “Did you ever wonder how we escaped this place, my cabin, and Evie’s apartment which such ease?”