MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles

by arial@arialburnz. com

  Malloren tapped her fingers in irritation. “A balancing force needed to be set in place to ensure the choice made was a willing one. Satan is a liar and God did not trust that those facing the choice would be provided the entire truth. That is why the Tzava Ha’or was created. We are the balancing force and provide the last chance for such victims to choose God.”

  Broderick scrunched his brow and he leaned forward in emphasis. “I do not understand why God would set up provisions to preserve this race Satan created. Why not just let them to their own devices and allow them to kill themselves by fouling up the rules?”

  “Then those who made such a choice could never be offered redemption. I do not think it is wise to question Jehovah,” Malloren warned.

  “Bah!” Broderick sat back and shook his head. “It is my free will to question him, is it not? I have often pondered the usefulness of God’s creations over the decades, Satan being one of them. If God is all-powerful and all-knowing, did he not know Satan would rebel? That he would tempt Adam and Eve in paradise? That man would fall from grace by choosing to bow to Satan by disobeying God?” He harrumphed.

  “The pain and the suffering in this world are caused primarily by Satan, Broderick.”

  “Nay, caused by God, Malloren! And to what purpose?” He stood and planted his fists on the table, glaring down at the prophetess. “God created Satan, who is the cause of evil. Thereby, God created the pain and suffering in this world. I see the lives of the victims I feed from, their innocent beginnings falling prey to the evils of God’s creation.” He pushed away and turned his back on her. “Do not tell me God did not have a hand in any of this.”

  Malloren placed a comforting hand upon Broderick’s shoulder, but he did not turn to face her. In a voice full of compassion, she said, “I did not say God did not have a hand in any of this, Vamsyrian. But I am saying I do not question His motives. Who are we to question God’s ultimate design? I believe He does have a plan and you are indeed a special part of the redemption for your race.”

  Broderick opened his mouth to protest, not wanting to be a part of this manipulation to an unknown end.

  But Malloren reached up and placed tender fingers upon his lips. “Do not turn your back on those who may have realized they made a mistake by choosing immortality.” Tears welled in the eyes of the prophetess as she pleaded her case. “If you do not care about God or the salvation He offers, please do not throw away the second chance He has given those of your kind to make a different choice.”

  Guilt washed over Broderick as he weighed her words, as he considered the glassy pools of her dark-brown eyes under her pleading, raven brows. He sighed. “What part do I play in this plan?”

  Malloren bowed her head and kissed his knuckles before returning to her seat. “It is unclear as to how many years, decades or even centuries passed before the prophecy was revealed to the Tzava Ha’or. As it has been passed down—and with some of the information I have gleaned from the many visions I have received over the years—the Angel Gabriel appeared to a leader of our Order with this message.” She picked up the scroll she once held and read.

  God's mercy is infinite and He wishes all of His children to receive salvation…even those who have chosen to turn their backs on Him. The Vamsyrian creator is choosing to keep God's path to redemption a secret. I am here to expose that truth to the light and declare how this truth will be revealed.

  “So Satan has known about this prophecy since the beginning?”

  “As we have come to understand it, yes.” She continued.

  God has foreseen that by the conflict of two Vamsyrian brothers will the path toward redemption be known. Their family wars will propel them to make the choice of immortality, bonding them by blood not only through their lineage, but also their transformation.

  Broderick leaned forward in awe, his palms on the table. “Did Angus know of this prophecy?”

  Malloren’s brow creased. “Angus? No, not that I am aware. Why do you ask?”

  “Bonded by blood,” Broderick whispered.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Angus spoke those words the night he transformed me. ‘Brothers for all eternity now, forever bonded by blood.’ At the time, I thought he was only referring to how the transformation had bonded us in blood, thereby making us brothers as Vamsyrians.” Broderick sat, his eyes staring into the past and seeing the final confirmation of his connection to Angus. Until this moment, he’d still harbored doubts about Angus being his brother.

  “I had not seen Angus since the night of my turning. Seventeen years ago, we clashed, both of us seeking to settle decades of vengeance. It was in that confrontation I learned we were brothers, both sons of Hamish MacDougal.” He brought himself back to the present and regarded Malloren. “Both of us sought immortality for our own reasons of revenge. I learned that Angus was immortal when he murdered my…our brothers…and their families.” Will that heartache ever fade? “Angus left me for dead and Cordelia saved me before…”

  Choosing over the years not to dwell on the events that led to his transformation, Broderick had ignored the part Cordelia played in this drama…until now. “Cordelia knew we were brothers. But how? I did not know.” He rose and resumed pacing. He turned to Malloren. “She knew Angus. Mayhap she had been the one to transform him.”

  “I revoke my claim on Broderick MacDougal.” Cordelia’s proclamation and her taunting expressions thrown at Angus echoed through the decades.

  “She must have known about the prophecy! Cordelia manipulated Angus and I to be the brothers to fulfill the prophecy. That is why she backed away from doing the transformation herself. She wanted…nay needed Angus to perform the transformation.”

  Malloren sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

  Is that a hint of pride in her smirk?

  “You are correct, Vamsyrian.” She stood and cautiously stepped toward him. “Cordelia does indeed know about the prophecy.”

  Broderick tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the prophetess. “Why do I feel you know more about this than you are leading me to believe?”

  “Please sit.” She turned her chair to face him. “You will not like what I have to say.”

  “So you have continued to make abundantly clear.” Broderick scowled.

  * * * * *

  Cailin grabbed a second leg from the roasted chicken and set it on the trencher before her. Gathering a few more grapes and blackberries along with another chunk of bread, she continued to enjoy the meal before her. True to Angus’s word, the food was appetizing and—more to the point—excellent for regaining her strength. With what little rest she was able to snatch in the dusty room and the nourishment of this fine meal, new confidence about confronting her enemy surged through her. Certainly Angus would bide his time, waiting for Broderick to come after her, so she took advantage of the opportunity.

  Angus chuckled. “Have you been rendered mute, my little morsel? I do not believe you’ve uttered a single word since your arrival.”

  She swallowed her mouthful and washed it down with the rich vintage in her cup. “Apologies to my host.” Her voice sounded husky, a sure sign she was fatigued. She cleared her throat. “The food is delicious, but I hesitate to thank you, for I feel as if I am the calf being fattened for the feast.”

  Angus threw his head back and laughed. “Well said, my dear.” He leveled sparkling eyes upon her. “Well said, indeed.” He strolled to the far-right doorway at the back of the hall and mumbled something to the man standing post, who nodded and reached into his pocket. Angus took the small jar he handed over and glared at Jasper as he passed by on his path back to the head table. Tossing the jar before Cailin, he smiled and she caught it before it skittered over the edge. “Salve for your wrists and feet.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Angus sat and waved off the courtesy. “Of course.” A roguish grin tilted his lips. “As you say, another measure to fatten up my little calf.” His eyes dropped to her
neckline, lingering until a flushing heat crept over her skin and she had difficulty swallowing.

  “I am surprised Broderick has not yet arrived,” he deliberated. “Do you think he has abandoned you? Perhaps you are not as important as his beloved Davina? I am very sad to see she is not here.” He seethed momentarily.

  Unmoved by his taunts, she took another sip of wine to wash down the last of her meal. “My father has other business, as I am sure Jasper informed you, but he will be along.” The sudden thought that her father might not arrive for at least another day—perhaps even longer—sent a shiver of uncertainty through her. Though she had not originally counted on his assistance, even wanted to handle this herself, the reality she was indeed on her own to finish this confrontation loomed before her. Because she would rather die than let Angus touch her in the ways he threatened, she feared she would not live long enough for her father’s rescue.

  Angus peered around his shoulder toward his head henchman and the color drained from Jasper’s face. “First you do not bring me the complete package,” Angus growled. “And now I learn Broderick was away from his family?”

  “I had no time to inform you, m’lord! I had only learned—”

  “You and I will discuss this later, much to my enjoyment.” Turning his attention back to Cailin, Angus dropped his mask of anger and his face melted into pleasantry once more. “You address him as ‘father’, I see.” He feigned a wounded expression. “Pray tell, do not say I am the one to break your heart by informing you he is truly not your father.”

  She chuckled. “Fear not, Angus. You need not weather the burden of such a task. I am well aware of my parentage. But Broderick MacDougal has been more of a father to me than that monster Ian Russell could have ever hoped to accomplish.” She would have to get closer to Angus, but at this moment still wasn’t ready to do so and aimed to keep the conversation going to buy the time needed to build her courage.

  “I am relieved, then,” Angus continued with his taunting. “Being so well-informed about your situation, sweet Cailin, I am assuming you must also know that my dear brother is only using you and your mother to make up for past sins?” He leaned forward and poured himself another cup of wine, then settled back into his chair with a devilish glint in his eyes. “A truly well-adjusted and astounding woman you are if this be so.”

  Broderick had warned Cailin several times that Angus Campbell was a liar and lived a life entrenched in his own delusions about the truth of their heritage. Yet she struggled with the trepidation rising within her over his words. “If you speak of the past sins regarding the lives he has taken, I know of them and that is not the purpose of our family.”

  “Nay, Cailin.” Angus placed both feet on the floor and propped his elbows on his knees, cradling the goblet of wine in his hands. He stared into the cup almost as if he wished to divine the past from it. “I speak of the guilt Broderick harbors in his black heart over abandoning his own flesh and blood.” The lower registers of his voice and his piercing eyes regarding her from under his fiery brows gave Cailin great pause over such deadly intent. He sighed and sat back again, boredom washing the anger from his face like rain washes away a layer of dust.

  She fought the urge to shake her head from his dizzying mood swings. Angus’s unpredictability in his ever-changing countenance was unnerving. He sipped his wine. Eyes roaming about the Grand Hall, he relayed his history as if he reflected on the latest conditions of the weather. “Our father, Hamish MacDougal, seduced my mother, Alyssa Campbell. Hamish knew my mother was with child, and yet he did not claim me as his son.” And like the weather, shifted into a black demeanor as suddenly as an unexpected storm. “The man married to my mother—Fraser Campbell—was far from being a loving father, but at least he took on the responsibility of raising me.” Angus brooded over his cup. “Fraser never let me forget how the MacDougals abandoned me and deprived me of my rightful place as Hamish’s son.”

  Cailin frowned at Angus’s perspective of her family history. How much blood had been spilled over a possible misunderstanding? “Angus,” she dared to offer. “Are you certain Broderick knew? What if Hamish—?”

  For a moment, sadness clouded Angus’s eyes. Then mayhap even a measure of hope glimmered. A mirthless laugh rumbled from his chest and he threw his cup against the wall behind her.

  * * * * *

  The clanging of a bowl or cup startled James and he winced from the stabbing pain in his shoulder. He stole a sip from the bottle in his pocket. He had snuck over the field unnoticed and dispatched the three men standing guard at the castle entrance. A sharp blade and the indifference he gained from the laudanum made the task an easy one. Mortals must surely be ineffective at defending and fighting immortals, so he spent little time pondering the lack of protection posted around the grounds.

  The activity centered around what, he assumed, was the main hall of the castle and stairs led to a second level. He crept up the stairs and peered around the wall, sizing up the distance between him and the man standing at the door on the landing. Checking behind him once more, James advanced slowly…quietly…stiletto poised.

  “I was the bastard son of Hamish MacDougal!” the voice below yelled. “The man who waged war after war against my home and what little family I had, trying to kill me to erase his mistake!”

  James eased the body to the floor, having slit his throat, while the man in the main hall screamed over his history.

  “But that was Hamish!”

  James snapped his head up. Cailin! He crawled across the floor and peeked through the doorway, the stretch of landing before him. He chanced peering over the half-wall thankfully hiding him.

  In one stride, a man—who strongly resembled Broderick MacDougal—slammed his fists onto a table and towered over Cailin. “Broderick MacDougal stood right by Hamish’s side in battle! Rick stood by our father, boasting his position as eldest son and heir to their small fortune, not wanting to share his legacy with the tainted blood of a Campbell…even though MacDougal blood ran through my veins. Rick carried on the legacy of our father after his death, never stopping the wars. So do not tell me Rick did not know.” The man James now assumed was Angus Campbell turned away from Cailin and raked his fingers through his shoulder-length auburn hair…aye, so much like Broderick’s. From this distance, he appeared a younger version of James’s future father-in-law. How had Broderick never seen the resemblance?

  Stealing one more glance at Cailin, he was grateful that at least she was not in Campbell’s grasp. He peeked out just a tad farther and groaned inwardly when another man stood at his post on the opposite landing across the room.

  James sat on the floor and sighed. He would need to sneak around to the other side and repeat a death blow to the other guard.

  * * * * *

  Cailin gulped her wine for courage and did her best not to cower before Angus. He reveled in the fear of his victims.

  Angus returned his murderous glare to her. “Now that you know the truth, you must realize his motivations for taking in a family, for caring for you as his own daughter, do you not?” He strode forward and rested his fists upon the table once more as he loomed over her. “He thinks he can salve his guilty conscience with a good deed.” A sneer curled his lips and he rose to his full height, crossing his arms. “Truly, you are nothing to him but his failed attempt at redemption.”

  Broderick loved her as if his own blood ran through her veins, as if he had been the one to plant the seed in her mother’s womb. The years in his fatherly embrace, the endless memories of his comfort, advice and their laughter were Cailin’s testimony against Angus’s lies. Yet why did her throat tighten with grief? The nagging pins of doubt pricked her resolve.

  Why else would Broderick take such a chance with our lives, his very presence putting us in danger from his enemy, if not for another reason? Surely if he loved us, he would have sacrificed living with us as a family if it meant our survival. These were the arguments she’d had with herself whenever danger r
eared its destructive head.

  “Broderick stays with us for our protection,” her mother assured her when Cailin had voiced her questions after Angus’s first successful abduction.

  Angus’s whisper at her ear startled her into the present. “I see the doubt in your eyes, sweet Cailin.” His chuckle brushed warm against her cheek. “The sooner you realize the truth…” His tongue flicked out to taste the tender flesh behind her ear. She shivered. “The sooner you will be free from the prison of Broderick’s fantasies.”

  Cailin pushed away from Angus and rose from her chair, escaping on unsteady legs around the table, to stand at the center of the Grand Hall. She eyed the doorway, longing to run…but she couldn’t. If she did, Angus would easily overpower her. The moment had come. She did not relish the thought of Angus touching her, but she would not have the opportunity to strike unless he had her in his grasp. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stood her ground.

  She hissed with fright as Angus appeared at her side. Cailin clutched her forearm, using the hardness of the blade in its sheath for comfort. Pivoting to stand behind her, Angus wrapped his arm around her waist like a steel band and nuzzled his mouth against her ear. “Why do you leave me so breathless, Cailin?” he panted. His hand reached up to cup her breast while his other hand grabbed a fistful of her skirts.

  Where is the protection of this cursed amulet?

  Drawing her trembling lip between her teeth, she blinked and a tear slip down her cheek. Her eyes darted about the room. As she feared, Angus’s men closed in to watch the show. How would she attempt to slip her blade from the sheath up her sleeve before they were upon her? Like dark clouds moving in, dread settled in Cailin’s heart. Have I failed?

  * * * * *

  Where is the so-called protection of this amulet?