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

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MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles Page 21

by arial@arialburnz. com


  “’Tis not necessary to explain, Da. I have—”

  “Nay, Cailin. I need to say this. If anything, James will gain from my words.”

  She nodded and put the amulet back around her neck.

  “In spite of what Angus said, I did not know we were brothers until that night seventeen years ago. He had used your mother to get to me. ’Tis his way of revenge…he uses those closest to his enemy. I never understood why until now.” Angus ranting at Cailin while he fattened her for the feast chafed Broderick’s spirit. “My father Hamish never told us why we were feuding with the Campbells. We had grown up fighting them and I only continued because of everything we had already lost at the hands of Fraser and Angus. And because Angus never stopped attacking. As far as I knew, the Campbells had been the catalyst of these battles. Angus initiating an attack may have been his retaliation from the last battle, just as our retaliations may have seemed an initiation on our part to him. And so the vicious cycle must have repeated through the years.”

  He shook his head and absorbed this new information, putting more pieces to the puzzle in place. “In truth, Angus was bent on revenge over what he felt was an injustice to him and his mother.” Broderick squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of his brothers, Maxwell and Donnell, and their families slain by Angus. “I still cannot forgive him for slaughtering his own family, though!” He fought the tears pressing against his eyes and mayhap pleaded with his family now. “Angus knew we were kin and yet he still killed them—children and all—leaving me crucified to a table to gaze at their bloodied bodies with the intention of returning to slit my throat once he felt I had suffered enough!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I will never forgive him for taking their innocent lives. If Angus had a feud with me, he should have settled it with me, not them!”

  Davina rose and wrapped her arms about his waist. He hesitated in accepting her warmth. He wanted to cling to his anger to justify his own reasons for revenge, his own decision to become immortal. He did not want to explore the idea that Angus may have been justified in his actions or at least in his position at being the bastard son of Hamish MacDougal. If so, were Broderick’s reasons to become immortal for naught? But he killed his own brothers!

  He surrendered to the arms of his wife. He accepted her embrace and comforted her as she wept.

  The hairs at the back of his neck tingled and rose. A faintly familiar chill rippled through his limbs. Angus!

  He gripped Davina’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Get everyone into my underground chambers. Now!”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I will do no such thing!” Cailin protested.

  “You will do exactly as I tell you, child!” Broderick boomed and turned to James. “Take her in hand and go with Davina!”

  Cailin fumed and drew her blades, running after Broderick’s departing figure.

  “Cailin!” James’s voice faded behind her as she ran out the front door and into the courtyard to stand beside her father.

  Broderick snatched Cailin’s blades from her hands and sheathed them back at her hips in the span of a moment.

  “I—” Her world twirled upside down and sideways as he tossed her over his shoulder and stomped across the courtyard, throwing her into James’s arms.

  “Get her inside!” her father ordered.

  James set Cailin down, grabbed her by the hand and marched—surprisingly—toward her father. “Why did you bother training her to use her blades if not for this moment?”

  “Aye!” Cailin agreed with a surge of enthusiasm fueled by pride in her perfect mate and, at last, someone who understood who she was to her core.

  Broderick opened his mouth to protest, his index finger poised for an argument, but nothing came from his lips. His eyes darted from Cailin to James and his mouth fused into a straight line of disapproval. He shook his head. “You are both too stubborn for your own good.” His eyes diverted to Davina. “Blossom, get inside!”

  “Broderick, the gates!” Davina shouted, pointing.

  He whirled around and dashed for the massive doors, still standing open from when Cailin and James had arrived not one hour ago. Her father reached the oaken doors and closed them, but before they could be secured, a reverberating boom pounded Cailin’s ears and she staggered back when the doors slammed open, throwing Broderick across the courtyard. Hanging off their hinges for a few lingering seconds, the doors teetered and careened to the ground as guards scattered to avoid being crushed. The ground shook as the oaken beasts hit the cobblestones. Angus Campbell, sword drawn and face contorted with rage, stood at the entrance of the gate, his eyes searching.

  Broderick growled, drew his sword and Angus’s attention, and advanced, their blades clashing. The dizzying effects of the two Vamsyrians engaging in battle was enough to make Cailin tremble and seek refuge in the protective arms of James. Davina, James and Cailin stood with their mouths agape as the two immortals fought in flashes of fury, their arms and swinging steel blurry streaks through the air.

  Reality tumbled down upon Cailin like a rain of stones.

  No mortal would ever be a match for a Vamsyrian. No amount of training or thought-blocking or sneaky maneuvers would ever give her the advantage over such a force. Broderick only trained her to help her overcome her fears. He knew she would never be able to defend herself against any immortal. No wonder her father risked the journey south.

  “Come to me!” Davina hissed.

  Cailin and James whirled, and her mother’s opening arms beckoned, a pleading expression on her face. Cailin stepped toward her mother and stopped short when Angus suddenly appeared behind Davina, his blade at her belly. Angus panted, fierce eyes daring anyone to make a move.

  Broderick stood before Cailin and James, guarding them as he faced Angus with Davina held captive in his arms. “Your war is with me, Angus!”

  “I shall cut her heart out as you and Hamish have cut out mine!”

  Cailin’s mother shook her head, her eyes beseeching. “Veh atah adonai mahgen bah-adee, k’vodee u-merim roshee.” On the last syllable Davina uttered, Broderick and Angus each let out a cry of agony, both thrown back through the air. Cailin ducked and gawked as Angus sailed over the side curtain wall, his heel catching on the top stone and sending him spinning head over heels out of sight. Whirling toward the direction her father flew, she winced when Broderick slammed into the front curtain wall. Just a foot higher and he would have vaulted over the towering structure as Angus had!

  Her father twisted and writhed, bellowing as he remained pinned to the wall.

  Through his cries and grunts, he rambled some incoherent words. “Pitkhu li sha-ahray tsedek, avoh bahm ve odeh yah. Davina! Say the response!”

  Her mother knelt, hugging her belly as she whimpered, “Zeh…ha…ha-sha-ar adonai. Tsadikim yavou bo.”

  Broderick fell the height of the wall to the ground with a resounding oomph! Panting and scrambling to his feet, he rushed to Davina’s side. As he pulled her into his arms, Cailin gasped and crouched before her mother. Blood stained her gown from the gash in her abdomen to her hem. “M’ma!”

  “He…cut me…as he flew,” Davina managed through her moans and gasps.

  Broderick snatched one of Cailin’s daggers, hissed as the silver blade cut open his wrist, and let his immortal blood flow into and over Davina’s wound. “Stay with me, Davina!”

  She grunted, her eyes gazing up at her husband. Cailin bit her knuckle to stifle her sobs.

  “Do you hear me, woman!” Broderick demanded as he slit his flesh again and administered more of his healing blood. “You stay with me!”

  “Stop…yelling at me…you brute,” she stammered. Davina breathed easier, her painful gasps calming to more even breaths. Though still in obvious pain, the smile crooking the corner of her mouth spoke to the miracle of her healing.

  Cailin collapsed with relief.

  Broderick grinned. “Aye, Blossom.” He bent forward and gave her a tender kiss. Davina’s
breath quavered and Broderick checked her wound. His shoulders rose with his heavy sigh. He nodded to Cailin.

  She will live! Cailin let the tears flow as James held her in his arms.

  With a palm extended toward Cailin and James, Broderick murmured, “Veh atah adonai mahgen bah-adee, k’vodee u-merim roshee.”

  Nothing happened. Cailin darted her eyes around for any noticeable changes in her surroundings, but found none. She gazed back at her father.

  “You will not feel it, but I do,” he said. “That incantation has put a shield of protection around you and James. I invoked it just as a precaution for the moment. It’s similar to the protection that is around the amulet you wear. I shall teach you the differences and you will learn it just as your mother did last night.” Cradling Davina in his arms, he kissed her brow and caressed her cheek. “You learned it well, Blossom.”

  She smiled.

  “I don’t understand, Da. What happened? What threw you and Angus across the courtyard?”

  “The incantation invokes the power of Jehovah, starting from the focused center and outward to the imagined boundary.” He grinned at his wife. “You were the center and you imagined the boundary to encompass the curtain wall, aye?”

  “Aye.”

  “That was stronger than any barrier the prophetess erected. Well done, my dove.”

  Cailin shook her head swarming with confusion. “But I still don’t understand why you were thrown. I—”

  Broderick’s sad expression turned to Cailin. “Come. Let us get your mother inside. I will explain everything once we have her settled.”

  “Will Angus not return?” Cailin glanced around the courtyard as if expecting him to do just that.

  Broderick rose on shaky legs with Davina in his arms. “As weakened as I feel from the blow, I would imagine he feels just as drained. I hardly think he’s strong enough to do battle. And when he is, it will not matter. This protection will prevent him from ever harming any of you again.”

  Hope surged through Cailin. “Then we can, at last, kill him and end this?”

  The sadness in Broderick’s eyes deepened. “Nay, little one. As I said, all will be explained. Come.”

  Turning toward the front entrance, Broderick carried Davina, murmuring against her cheek and nuzzling her. James hugged Cailin close to his side as they followed. They stopped at the threshold and she turned to face the blackened sky.

  “What, Mouse?” James kissed her temple.

  “I have a strange feeling this journey my father took has opened a door to…” She couldn’t quite put words to the foreboding in her heart.

  “To what?”

  “Considering what he just said and this lingering…I know not, James. I just know this is not finished. There’s more than just a safety we now have with this protection.”

  “Then let us go inside and hear what Broderick has to say.”

  She nodded and reluctantly tore her gaze from the partial moon rising in the sky.

  * * * * *

  Cordelia paced the center of the stone circle, glancing at the full moon above. “Where are you?” she chanted, her frustration mounting. “Where are you?”

  “I am as impatient as you are, my dear.”

  Cordelia jumped at Malloren Rune’s voice and cursed under her breath.

  “Again, you weren’t paying attention.” That mischievous light in her eyes, she winked at Cordelia and waved a hand, motioning her to follow.

  “Is it finished?” Cordelia scampered after the prophetess, holding the satchel secure at her waist. “Did everything go as you said it would?”

  “As we have been hoping, my child.” Malloren stopped several yards from the stone circle and raised the hatch door. They both descended the iron ladder and into the vast chambers below.

  Her immortal eyes allowed a clear view of the narrow passages as she followed Malloren’s path into the center library chamber, the golden lamplight casting a halo around the Keeper of Secrets. Malloren padded down the steps to the center table and set the lantern beside the scattered scrolls. Cordelia sniffed the stale air and grinned. “I can still smell him.”

  Malloren pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “You should not still fancy him. You know where his heart is and his role in the prophecy.”

  Cordelia rolled her eyes heavenward and placed her satchel on the table before pulling a throne-like chair back to sit. “Of course. I like the way he smells, though.”

  The corner of Malloren’s mouth twitched. “Well, I can hardly blame you there.”

  Leaning forward and clasping her hands before her to contain her excitement, Cordelia pressed the prophetess for information. “I did exactly as you instructed. I delivered the package. Pray tell me what transpired.”

  “You know exactly what transpired.” Malloren sat in the chair opposite Cordelia and tossed her long, black braid over her shoulder. “You saw Alistair deliver the box containing the relic of protection to Amice…even though I told you not to stay around.”

  Cordelia clenched her hands together painfully, a monumental effort to control her embarrassment at being caught.

  Malloren turned her palm up and flapped her fingers in a come-hither gesture. “Give me the shackles.”

  Cordelia cursed and tossed the lamb-skin satchel to the prophetess. “How I ever thought I could keep anything from a seer is beyond me.”

  Malloren pursed her lips. “Did you think you went on that little errand to retrieve this relic on your own?” The prophetess pulled the iron shackles from the bag and examined them.

  Cordelia cursed again and sat back, pouting. “I should have known you were behind it.”

  The corner of Malloren’s mouth turned up in amusement. “Cordelia, I know you too well and you know I have the gift of sight. Your curiosity gets the better of you sometimes. How else was I supposed to keep you from following that amulet all the way to Scotland? Besides, this errand was too important to have dabbled the way you did.”

  “Which errand? The one to bring the amulet to Alistair? The one to get the shackles? Or the one to find the silver pieces?”

  “All of them. You know the outcome of Broderick coming down here. We have saved him from killing Angus so the prophecy can still be fulfilled. These, my dear,” Malloren said, holding up the iron cuffs. “These will be needed to trap Broderick later and force his hand.”

  “But when will—”

  “Cordelia.” The prophetess sighed. “I seek just as many answers as you do. I only know what my visions have told me…and they are incomplete.” She put the shackles inside the lamb-skin bag. “Remember, you must keep these in the satchel or handle them with the lamb-skin gloves.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. The lamb skin is the barrier against blessed items.”

  Malloren shook her head, but rose and offered her hand. “Come. We must now fulfill the second milestone of the prophecy.”

  Cordelia jumped to her feet and rushed to take Malloren’s offered hand. Grabbing the lantern, the prophetess pointed at the far door and led Cordelia up the opposite stairs.

  She padded after Malloren through the corridor leading to her private chambers. “You still have not told me what the second milestone is.” Anticipation fluttered in Cordelia’s stomach and she tugged Malloren’s dark braid playfully.

  Malloren pulled her hair away from Cordelia. “‘One of God’s chosen will become one of God’s cursed so that the prophecy may be preserved.’”

  Cordelia stopped in stunned silence as Malloren continued down the corridor. “She’s going to become immortal,” Cordelia whispered. Picking up her skirts, the enthusiasm surged through her limbs and she dashed after Malloren. “I am going to transform you!”

  Malloren stood at the hearth, placed the lantern on the mantle and faced Cordelia with a smile. “Yes, my dear.”

  Cordelia rushed into Malloren’s arms and spun her around, the two of them laughing. “But wait!” She held the prophetess at arm’s length. “We cannot go before the Council.
I have been banished. They’ll kill me if—”

  “No, child.” Malloren ushered Cordelia to the chair by the hearth and sat in the adjacent seat. “The purpose of going before the Council is to ensure the one to be transformed is fully educated on their choice, so one is not made unwillingly. Nothing more. The Council started those lies about sensing whenever a rogue Vamsyrian is made to discourage anyone from doing so. I am a member of the Tzava Ha’or, so I am more than educated on the choice I am making. I am also more than willing to make such a choice. I must do this to fulfill the milestone of the prophecy and to continue to be the Keeper of Knowledge.”

  She touched Cordelia’s cheek. “Remember, your grandmother prophesied I would be the last Prophetess of the Order. My womb is barren and you are the closest I will ever have to a daughter.” A tear slipped down her cheek and Cordelia knelt before Malloren, laying her head in her lap. “The visions have shown me that since the bloodline of Keepers ends with me, immortality is the answer to preserving the prophecy. Even though God has granted me a longer life than anyone in this history of the Tzava Ha’or, I am still mortal and I can feel my death before me. It is time. This is God’s will so that I might fulfill my destiny…and ensure yours.”

  Cordelia stood, anxious to begin. “Did you see your last sunrise?”

  Malloren nodded with a tender smile as she stood. “I did. This morning.”

  The prophetess inhaled deeply and pulled her long, raven braid aside, baring her neck.

  Cordelia eyed the rapid pulse at Malloren’s throat. “At long last,” she breathed. Stepping into the embrace of the prophetess, Cordelia sank her fangs into her flesh and drank deep to begin the transformation.

  Epilogue

  The sun sparkled across the waters in the port harbor of Leith, Knightly’s Refuge swaying gently under Cailin’s feet as she stood on the port side of its deck. A breeze lifted stray auburn locks from her cheeks and she smiled into the salty air.

  “That be the last of it, Mistress Cailin.”

 

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