Hybrid: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance:: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 3)

by Apryl Baker

  “Katyia.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Look at me.”

  She didn’t want to. Roman’s finger lifted her chin, forcing her face up. She opened her eyes and saw a serious expression on his face. Uh-oh. What did she do now?

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” she whispered, glancing around. They were well ahead of the others, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hear them. Vampire hearing and all that.

  “Don’t go thinking we did something wrong.” His eyes gentled. “We consummated our mate bond. We enjoyed each other. That is how it is meant to be. There was nothing disgraceful about it.”

  “I’m not ashamed of what we did,” she said at last. “More of where we did it.”

  “Ah.” He pulled her closer, his chin settling on top of her head. “Don’t be upset. It was going to happen sooner rather than later. We were both in the heat of the moment, in full battle mode. People do strange things with adrenaline driving them. Just a story we can tell our grandchildren.”

  “We will not be telling them any such thing!” she said, trying to whisper but not quite managing.

  Another laugh rolled through his chest, but then his body tensed a little. “Katyia, we do need to talk about last night. About before that. About the ravagers.”

  Yes, she’d been trying to not think about that. The wind caught her hair and whipped it around her face. She caught it, trying to smooth it down. Her once inky black hair now had streaks of snow white in it. Everything else had gone back to normal after her and Roman’s romp in the snow. Except her hair. She wasn’t sure if she liked it since she couldn’t see it in a mirror.

  “I…I was listening and I kept thinking about them out there, how they wanted to hurt us…to hurt you. Some kind of lock opened in my head. I understood what you were trying to tell me, about how the vampire in us recognizes its mate. The thought of someone hurting you…it allowed me to embrace the ravager. All of me just clicked together, like the pieces of a puzzle. I was whole. I knew who I was and I stopped fighting against it, stopped hating myself. Stopped trying to deny things I can’t change. I accepted it all. Because of you. You gave me the strength and the purpose to do that, Roman. You made me whole.”

  His arms tightened around her and little hum of contentment rumbled against her back. “You do the same for me, Katyia.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. He sounded happy, not at all surly. What she had to say might even make him happier. “I think I know how to overrun the castle.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “The ravagers, I can understand them. They all speak like a hive. I hear them in my head.”

  “I thought so. You spoke in their language a few times.”

  “The grunts and snarls dialect?” she said. “Yeah, that too.”

  “What does that to do with overrunning the castle?”

  “You said yourself they outnumber us. What if I pulled the wards down and let the ravagers in?” He got all quiet and she grew worried. It was a horrible thing to do, but it would work. Did he think less of her for suggesting it? Was it too monstrous? Since accepting the ravager as being part of her, her morals shifted the tiniest bit. Suggesting this would have sent her on a rant even yesterday, but now it seemed the most logical solution.

  “And you think they’d listen to you?” he asked, dubious.

  “Yes. To them, all of this is a game. They are more like deadly children, looking for playmates. They wanted to play with all of you last night and I wouldn’t let them. Their hive leader, that is the one who tried to take Olaf, fell to me. That sort of makes me their leader until I appoint another one. They’ll come if I call.”

  She winced, thinking about his reaction to that statement.

  “How many?”

  “Six or seven dozen roam in this area of the mountains. I hear them all if I open my mind up to them.”

  “Six or seven dozen?” he exclaimed. Six ravagers could decimate an entire town. She understood his horror.

  “And it solves my problem of the wards surrounding my village,” she continued. “If I tell them not to attack the people there, they won’t.”

  “You control them all?”

  She nodded. It had been a shock to her too last night when they’d played tag in her head. They bowed to her since she killed their leader. “If Nicolette wants to be Regent, then she will, without fear of the wards failing.”

  Roman pulled Goliath to a halt and turned her so he could kiss her. She gasped, surprised at the quick kiss. It left her aching for more, but the excitement on his face paled in comparison. “You are bloody brilliant. Do you know that?”

  “Why is she brilliant?” Greggor asked, halting beside them. She saw Storm following behind them, his reins tied to Olaf’s saddle. She threw Olaf a grateful smile before turning back around.

  “Our little ravager princess here can send her horde into the stronghold.”

  “What?” Greggor looked form Roman to Katyia, confused. Roman quickly filled them all in on Katyia’s plan. “Wow. That’s…wow.”

  “Brilliant.” Roman beamed at her.

  “It depends on if I can get the wards down,” she cautioned. “Remember that, Roman.”

  “You’ll get them down. I have complete faith in you.”

  She wished she had complete faith in her abilities. Her magic might not be enough to break those wards. “Then let’s get going. I need to see what we’re up against.”

  He kissed her once more and then kicked Goliath into a fast trot. He’d cautioned them yesterday they’d need to be careful. Guards would be everywhere. Katyia suspected the vampires who’d attacked last night were some of his uncle’s minions. Roman couldn’t say for sure. Rogues roamed the mountains. It just as easily could have been one of them.

  They rode for another hour before Roman led them off the main path and into a heavy area of trees. They all tied off their horses. He and Greggor would continue with her on foot while the rest stayed to guard the horses. Once they were moving, Katyia let her witchy sense spread out around her. She closed her eyes and found it bundled deep inside, a glowing white ball of energy. She saw it running down her arms, releasing through her fingertips and then flowing outward in an ever expanding circle. Then she started to walk, following Roman, with Greggor behind her.

  The snow covered ground gave way beneath her boots, the darkness of the woods surrounding them. Roman moved swiftly, and they followed him, listening for any sign of a guard or lookout. She let them concentrate on that while she focused on trying to sense the wards. They walked for what felt like hours before she started to slow, her net finally picking up trace amounts of magic. Every magical act left a mark, a fingerprint. You could sometimes even trace the magic back to the caster if you knew their specific fingerprint.

  This was subtle, intricate. She would have walked right past it had she not specifically been looking for it. The closer they got, the more it pushed at her, trying to trick her into thinking nothing was there. Roman had stopped a few hundred yards ahead of them, his gaze locked on something neither she nor Greggor could see. All she saw was more trees, more snow. An endless expanse of forest.

  But she felt the wards. They were strong. She pushed back, testing them. Sadness greeted her. Tears welled in her eyes, thinking of her birth mother. The only thing that lay in that direction was the pain and grief of losing her family to the ravager attack. The emotion flooded her, so fresh and so real, her knees buckled. She remembered hearing their screams, hearing the terrified wail of her brother as she watched him being torn to pieces right in front of her. She’d watched it all through a crack in the locked cabinet. The monster ripped the door off its hinges…and she’d seen them lying there on the cold stone floor, half eaten. It reached for her. She’d…she’d looked up and…then it went blank. Something she’d probably never remember.

  “Katyia, little one…”

  Roman called to her from a faraway distance. She should get up, go to him. He ne
eded her. She loved her surly brute. The realization shocked her. They’d only known each other a little while, but her grandmother once told her that love was a tricky beast. It could happen with just the touch of a hand, or it could sneak up on you over time. Love was love. She acknowledged it, and joy sprang to life in her heart. He would always be there. He was her mate and she would always love her brute.

  Her vision cleared, her memories faded. When she looked up she saw the castle standing on the mountain, beautiful, cold, and glorious. The wards were down, at least for her. Was it really that simple?

  “Katyia?” Roman’s command whipped through her. “Answer me!”

  “Hush, before you bring the entire guard down upon us.” She stood and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m fine.”

  A grunt was her answer.

  “What happened?” Greggor demanded. “You fell and started crying. You wouldn’t answer us. We were arguing about how to get you safely out. Roman was afraid moving you might do more damage.”

  “As soon as I was away from here, I would have been fine.” She looked back at the castle. “The wards are designed to make you grieve, to feel the worst moment of your life and immobilize you. I’m sure they’ve found many a person here, trapped by their own memories. It’s probably a feeding ground as well as a barrier. Can you see the castle?”

  Greggor looked to where she pointed and his mouth fell open. “How did you…?” Greggor searched for the words, but ended up shrugging.

  “Love,” she answered, knowing what he meant. She looked up at Roman, smiling. “Love saved me and broke the wards.”

  Greggor cleared his throat and muttered something. Roman’s eyes softened. He opened his mouth, but then stopped, holding up a hand. They all heard it then, people heading their way. Roman motioned them off the main path and into the brush to their left. Crouched, they waited.

  The smell of dirty dishwater wafted through the air as the small group passed. They were in a hurry, but she caught snatches of the conversation. They were going to look for the missing men who still lay strewn over the ground. At least now she knew, the men who’d planned to attack last night had come from here.

  Once they were out of the way, she pursed her lips. “What do you want me to do, Roman? The wards are down. It won’t be long until someone comes to inspect it. Whoever built them felt them come down. If you want me to marshal the ravagers, tell me now.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.” She gestured to the castle. “They’ll be expecting us if we come back. The new wards will be different, requiring a lot more effort to bring them down. I can guarantee you that because it’s what I would do.”

  Roman looked at the castle and then back to her. “It’s dangerous, Katyia. There is only me and Greggor…”

  “And me.” She pointed her finger at him. “You have a woman who’s the best of all three worlds.”

  “You’re also my mate.” He looked so solemn. “I can’t put you in that kind of danger.”

  “If we leave, Roman, we may never get this chance again.” She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I will be fine. I can probably protect myself better than you can.”

  “There are other witches in there.” A vein popped out on his head, throbbing. “I don’t know how many. You may not be able to protect yourself as well as you think you can.”

  “You always ask me to trust you, Roman. Now I’m going to ask you to do the same thing. Trust me.”

  He didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. She gave him one more reassuring smile and then closed her eyes and opened her mind to the hive. Voices ran wild. She showed them where she was, the vast bounty that lay around her, the pretties to play with. Joy, sheer and utter joy met her request for them to join her. As soon as they were on their way, she shut her mind down.

  She didn’t want them to see her plans. This wouldn’t just allow Roman to confront his uncle, she hoped to cut down on the number of ravagers so close to her people. The vampires would kill off a good number of them. If there really were witches inside, they’d manage to deal with a couple of them too. Her heart ached. They were as much a part of her now as the people she’d vowed to protect in her village, but a choice had to be made. The ravagers were simply too deadly.

  Within minutes she sensed them. They were running gleefully through the woods, the castle in their sights. Roman started to stand, but she put a hand out to stay him, her own going white as the ravager in her began to surface. She fought to control herself. She wanted to jump in and play, to wreak havoc, to slaughter, to maim. Instead, she sat and waited. Roman had to be her first priority.

  Screams rose up from inside. She blocked out the screams, her own memory of her mother and brother’s death fresh in her mind. Her hands came up and covered her ears to help hide the pitiful cries. Roman pulled her in his lap and held her while the battle raged inside. It was the only thing that saved her sanity at what she’d just done to every innocent inside the castle.

  Roman rocked her, his hands over her own as the screams from inside intensified. He understood her plan now. She let them in, let them decimate everyone so when they went in, very few would remain alive. It had been a good plan. She’d make a good tactician if she could get past feeling the weight of her decisions. He regretted the deaths of those who didn’t deserve it, but he also knew this was one of the few plans that would work to weaken the guard enough to get Roman close to his uncle.

  He sat there for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, his hands shielding her from the sounds of death streaming out of the walls like one of those old radios from before the invasion. From where he sat, he had a front row seat of the carnage. They’d overrun the place in a matter of minutes. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, blood coating the ground so it looked like a river of crimson running from the fountain in the courtyard. She said the ravagers were like children, only wanting to play. To him, they looked like vicious, deadly monsters skilled in one thing—the art of killing.

  Greggor poked him in the arm and motioned toward the castle. As much as he hated for Katyia to look, he had to. She stood between them and the horde of ravagers crunching on their victims. He kissed the top of her head, now a complete shade of white. She roused, letting her hands fall into her lap. They remained human, not the elongated claws of last night. She’d learned to control her shift. Amazed, Roman helped her to her feet. She’d learned control over her thirst faster than any new turn he’d ever encountered. He shouldn’t be surprised at her control over the ravager that lived within her.

  Her eyes swept the massacre, a single tear escaping. Katyia brushed it away and straightened her back before walking through the gates that led inside. ravagers called out to her. She answered a few of them, but kept going. No one had survived the front gates and the courtyard. Roman drew his sword as they approached the front entrance of the castle. He heard the twang of Greggor’s blade as he drew it.

  The inside was dark, the lanterns having been knocked over by the ravagers in the attack. Enough light poured through the windows and front hall to see by. The beautiful mahogany wood still adorned the hallways, and intricate carvings begged for attention from wandering hands. He’d spent hours as a child tracing them. He shook off his reflections and focused on his surroundings. Memories could wait. Ravagers lurked in the shadows, their garbled cries happy. Odd, but that was the feeling he got from them. Several tried to scuttle near them, but one look from Katyia sent them darting away.

  Two men sprang up out of the shadows and Greggor swung his sword, slicing through one of them, twirling, his blade sliding free as he ducked and stabbed the blade upward, driving it at an angle through the man’s chest. Had Roman blinked, he’d have missed it. That was the reason they trained everyone so hard. Reflexes like that saved lives.

  He made his way through two more hallways and up the stairs. They’d glanced in the Great Hall, where the king usually spent his day. Empty except for the bodies littering the floor. They checked e
ach room before heading to the next. It took only a few minutes for Roman to find the royal apartments. They were on the top floor of the castle where he and his family had lived. His uncle had to be in the main family room, but he checked each suite before stopping in front of the door leading into the rooms his parents had shared. He reached for the doorknob, but Katyia grabbed his arm, shaking her head.

  He and Greggor moved out of her way to stand on either side of the door. She reached into the pocket of her heavy coat and took out a black satin pouch. This one was different from the one she’d used the night before. Inside was a pasty substance, lime green with an odor vile enough to make his stomach roll. A grin stretched across her face when she spread the foul mixture across his and Greggor’s brows. It reeked. Her yellow eyes danced with devilment. She moved back, the same green paste on her own face, and put the little pouch away.

  She stepped in front of the door and held her palm out. Heat flashed around them as the door burst inward. Arrows bounced off the invisible shield around her. He and Greggor exchanged a surprised look before hurrying to follow her into the room.

  Alexi Stratcovich stood in the middle of the room, three soldiers in front of him. Tall, blond, and heavily muscled, his uncle hadn’t aged a day since Roman had seen him last. He was also the spitting image of Roman’s father, perhaps a little older. He’d always been Roman’s favorite uncle. Never would he have imagined the dark plans that hid behind his jovial mask of family.

  “Hello, Uncle.”

  Alexi’s blue eyes narrowed. “Roman. Why have you come here? You have to know only death awaits you in these walls.”

  “I thought we could have a family reunion.”

  Alexi snorted, his smile calculated. “Of course, nephew. It is only fitting that you should die by my hand the same as your father.”

  Roman’s eyes narrowed. He remembered without his uncle reminding him. He’d watched Alexi behead his father in front of his mother and older brother. It was not a moment he’d ever forget.

  He nodded to the guards. “Mind asking them to move out of the way so we can have a proper greeting?”