Tammi touched her arm. “Simmer down, girl. We just got you back. And now you apparently have a toddler to look after.”
“Me?”
“You brought him back.”
“He looked quite cozy with you there.”
Tammi frowned at the child. “I’m gonna find some of those harem girls to help with this one.”
Rosalind was still lost in thoughts of battle. She stared into her wine, her lip curling. She could envision herself flying over Drew’s empire, fire blazing from her fingertips, melting the cold marble. “If I cut off the head of the snake, the battle will be over.”
Caine shook his head. “No. It’ll grow another head. There are plenty of Brotherhood fanatics to take Drew and Randolph’s place. We go in together, when the army is prepared.”
Destroy him, her mind whispered. Her back arched, desperate for the thrill of powerful magic. In the hollows of her mind, an image flickered—her own hand, plunging into Drew’s chest and ripping out his heart.
“Besides,” Tammi said. “I’ve been learning to fight, too. You’re not going alone, because I’m joining your army.”
Rosalind shook her head, the magic roiling inside her skull. “I can do it on my own. Slaughtering Drew is my destiny.”
Caine was studying her carefully. “Rosalind.” He leaned closer. “Be careful. If the gods’ power claims your mind, we may never get you back.”
Chapter 12
Rosalind walked through the Gelal Fields, her long, silky dress sliding against her legs. The landscape had transformed, with three silver-domed constructions jutting from the grass. Some of the sun shelters the vampires were working on.
In the nearby elms, nightingales trilled, filling the night with their song. The air felt warm and heavy tonight, and the full moon bathed the fields in pearly light. As she walked, tall grasses and wildflowers tickled her ankles.
If she squinted her eyes at the moon, she could just see the sterling shield that protected the vampire city from Drew’s invasion. Her stomach tightened. The shield appeared thinned in several places, which meant that at any moment, Drew and his Hunter friends could create a portal into the city. She’d escaped once—what would they do to her the next time they managed to capture her? And she couldn’t ignore the possibility that Bileth would hand her over to his Brotherhood allies at any moment.
Rosalind took a deep breath, searching the dark field for Caine. Just ahead, by a lone rowan tree, Caine stood by his brother. Their stunning silvery magic curled to the heavens, spreading over the thinned parts of the shield. She breathed in, inhaling the electric scene, like the smell of burnt air after a rainstorm.
The Mountfort brothers didn’t need to work alone anymore. Rosalind could use shadow magic nearly as well as they could, and her body ached to unleash the power of the gods.
As she moved closer through the dandelion-dappled grasses, Caine turned to look at her, arching an eye brow.
“I’m here to help,” she said. “You should have woken me when you were coming out here.”
“You needed rest,” he said. “I’ve warned you about using too much gods-magic.”
Irritation simmered. “I’m fine.”
Malphas eyed her with concern, moonlight washing over his porcelain skin. A faint smile curled his lips, and for a moment, Rosalind had a vision of him as a wide-eyed little boy, standing by the edge of Atherton Pond, pushing his hand-made sailboat into the water. “Rosalind.” He touched her shoulder. “When you were with Drew, it was hell. I’m so happy you’re back. And my brother is right. You’re not returning to Drew’s empire without us.”
She smiled at him. “We’re going to have to work together to keep Lilinor safe until we get our army together. Okay?”
Caine turned to face the shield again. “Far be it from me to argue with seven gods.” His aura snaked around his body, blazing from his chest. Malphas’s curled into the air, rising toward the moon.
Rosalind took a deep breath, luxuriating in the feel of the powerful shadow magic that electrified her skin.
Then, she arched her back, letting Nyxobas’s power surge, starting with her ribs and curling into the night sky. Her magic intertwined with Caine and Malphas’s in a perfect stream of gleaming silver.
Her arm brushed against Caine’s, and a shiver of pleasure ran over her skin. This was where she belonged. This was how it was meant to be.
For just a moment, she opened her eyes, meeting Caine’s gaze. He was peering down at her, his skin glowing like a god’s.
Their magic surged, streaming over the night sky. As the magic flowed between them, images flitted through her mind—running through the woods with Malphas, holding his hand, a carpet of mayflower petals below their feet, his laughter filling the air. Leading him into the forest to search for buried treasure—a toy soldier’s torso, a rusty coin. Malphas held each treasure aloft in the chinks of honeyed sunlight that streamed through the hawthorn trees—each discovery was a jewel, a magic talisman to bless them with unimaginable powers. Every stick was a wand, every flower a transformed nymph.
They couldn’t have known then that talismans weren’t needed, or that powers came with a price.
Then Caine’s memories whirled through her skull: the queen’s dress fluttering in the night air, after he’d thrown her from the window. A beautiful woman with blond hair. Men were dragging her screaming from her house, blood trickling down her chin. Caine bleeding and nailed to a stake, the word Stolas on his lips. The first time he saw Rosalind, lying on the rainy sidewalk, her eyes wide, body shaking with fear at the sight of him. Until at last, an image of something beautiful—a vault of stars above a grove of cherry trees, a stolen cup of fresh milk.
Filled with the memories around her, she stared at the canopy of silver magic above them. Caine and Malphas: both demigods of the shadow realm, and yet one brother was shadow, the other light.
At last, a thick shimmer of silver magic covered the entire sky, and Rosalind took a deep breath, her magic retreating into her chest.
But as she finished her magic, a chill rippled over her skin. Another aura lurked nearby—black and scented of an old grave. Her heart skipped a beat. Bileth.
Just as the warning was forming on her lips, Caine’s head whipped around, and the air around her thinned.
She turned, her pulse racing at the sight of the horned demon stalking through the tall grasses. He was still a hundred yards away, but even from here, she could smell the fetid magic snaking from his body. As he moved closer, anger simmered. Bileth had manipulated his way into this city, and she didn’t trust him in the slightest. At the sight of him, goosebumps rose on Rosalind’s skin.
As Bileth stalked toward them, she had the strange sense that the grasses were wilting around his feet, the birds fluttering from the trees, desperate to get away from him. Gray shadows whispered over his waxy skin.
Seven auras coiled through her bones, their essences as mad as they were ancient. Even if he was several millennia old, she was beginning to wonder if she could take Bileth on her own—with all that gods magic on her side. Her fingers twitched, body buzzing with explosive power.
Caine leaned close to Rosalind, whispering, “It’s not the time to attack. Not yet.”
Clouds rolled over the moon, and Rosalind shivered. Caine and Malphas might be related to the god of night, but Bileth seemed a true emissary of the void. At the sight of him, Rosalind could feel the valkyrie’s icy rage rippling through her body.
With each of Bileth’s footsteps, a distant war drum seemed to beat, the sound reverberating through Rosalind’s core. Thunder rolled over the horizon, and a few fat drops of rain began falling from the sky.
As Bileth drew closer, he snarled, “Incubi. And the woman.” The last word he spat like an insult.
Rain began to fall harder, streaming down Rosalind’s skin, and she took a step closer to Bileth. “How lovely to see you here.”
“I see you’re toying with the magic of the gods,” he growle
d. “Humans weren’t meant for such powers.”
Rosalind waited for him to continue. There was obviously a point to all this.
Lightning flashed, glinting off Bileth’s pale horns.
The rain picked up, plastering her hair to her face, her dress to her body. “Demons,” she said, “were not meant to roam the earth. And yet here we all are. Funny how life is.”
Caine cocked his head. “None of us were meant to be. The angels were never meant to fall from the heavens. Humans were never meant to learn Angelic. Dead things were never meant to live again. And yet—as Rosalind says—here we all are, in a city of vampires.”
Rosalind narrowed her eyes at Bileth. “The last time I saw you was in the Brotherhood’s headquarters. You seemed to know the Hunters very well.”
Bileth’s eyes were empty pools. “As Nyxobas knows, I was there as a spy.”
“Bullshit,” Rosalind muttered. “Anyway, what do you want from us?”
His gaze slid to Caine. “You’ve been Ambrose’s general for centuries. And where has it gotten Lilinor? An insane human terrorizes your kingdom. You hide behind a shield. This is not worthy of a son of Nyxobas.”
Rosalind felt the air around her chill by twenty degrees. As the cold rain slid down her skin, her breath clouded around her face, and she hugged herself, shivering.
Malphas took a deep breath. “What brilliant plan do you propose to protect Lilinor, Bileth?”
Bileth’s nostrils flared, and he pounded one of his fists into the other. “If vampires cannot fight mortals, then they do not deserve to live. We fight the Hunters as we are. Only the strong survive. The rest must give up their souls to the void. This is as it should be.”
“And this is your plan,” Caine said, his voice low and controlled. “Sacrifice the vampires to make a point about strength.”
Bileth’s lip curled. “Nyxobas does not need the weak.”
Rosalind stared at him, thinking of what he’d said to her in the Chambers. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
And for whatever reason, he’d been talking about Ambrose.
That ancient magic, the song of madness and power, whispered through her mind again.
Perhaps I could end this right here. “And what sort of leader are you, if you’re willing to give up without a fight?” She tightened her jaw. Rein it in, Rosalind.
Bileth’s lip curled. “One who will survive, when your vampire city lies in ashes. I will live, as I have done for a hundred thousand years on earth, and I will live long after your body has begun to feed the worms by your sister’s side.”
“Sounds like an interesting challenge,” she said. She pushed past Bileth, stalking over the grass, her fingernails piercing her palms.
Bileth needed to die, but it wouldn’t happen today.
Chapter 13
Flanked by Tammi and Aurora, Rosalind stalked through the hall toward Ambrose’s bedroom. Ivory rib vaults arched high above them, and moonlight streamed in through tall, peaked windows. Just an hour before, a servant had arrived at the door, instructing her to wear a formal gown for a visit with the king. The servant—a tall man with thin features and green eyes—had suggested that she might want to wear the frothy chiffon gown he’d brought for her. It was the exact shade of crimson that the king most admired.
Instead, Rosalind had pulled on her leather pants and a tank top, and she’d zipped her tallest boots. Until Caine and Malphas started wearing frothy chiffon to military meetings, she’d wear whatever she damn well pleased.
Aurora’s boots clacked over the tile. “Any idea what this meeting is about?”
Rosalind frowned. “My guess is Ambrose is getting desperate. Bileth seems ready to torpedo all his daywalker plans.”
“Really?” said Tammi. “And Bileth seems like such a reasonable man. You know, apart from being a king of hell who kills people with his mind.”
“And what are the plans Bileth is supposedly screwing up?” Aurora unscrewed the cap from her flask. “Who is this third human we’re supposed to use for the daylight spell?”
Tammi bit her lip. “I would have volunteered myself, but I kinda lost my human status.”
“I don’t know,” Rosalind said. “We’re at a bit of a stalemate. Caine won’t allow Malphas to do it, and Ambrose won’t allow anyone but Malphas to do it. I’m just glad you both were willing to come with me. Maybe you can help us talk some sense into Caine.”
At the end of the hall, a set of marble stairs led to an imposing set of oak doors, carved with wicked looking weapons. Two Viking guards with long, blond braids stood before them. As Rosalind and her friends moved closer, the guards shifted, pulling open the doors.
Inside Ambrose’s room, Caine's silver aura sparked through the air. He stood with his hands in his pockets—a casual stance—but anger writhed in his darkened eyes.
And between the two Lilinor leaders, Malphas stood with his arms folded. Flames in lanterns around the room seemed to flicker and dim. Moonlight washed the room in cold light, gleaming over Caine’s aura.
Aurora took a sip of her drink. “Well, this meeting looks like it’s going well. Glad you brought me.”
“Mmm…” said Tammi. “I always get the hint that Caine is annoyed when the air begins to frost, and darkness envelops the light. It all gets a bit apocalyptic. I’m not sure he’d do very well in a poker game.”
Aurora nodded. “Not very subtle.”
Caine’s eyes had turned black as the void. “Find another human.” He enunciated each word as if he’d said them a million times. Which, perhaps, he had.
Malphas stared at his brother. “The spell worked for you. I don’t see why it shouldn’t work for me.”
Caine shook his head. “If you think it worked for me, you remember nothing.”
There it was again—the reference to Caine’s insanity after he’d been given his second soul. And she still had no clue what they were talking about. Irritation simmered. Caine knew all her secrets now, but he still kept his own closely-guarded.
Malphas’s pale eyes blazed. “I remember everything, Caine. I was there. But who’s to say it would be the same with me?”
At his words, a chill spread through the room, and the moonlight itself seemed to dim. Caine kept his hands in his pockets, and though his body looked relaxed, his silver aura whipped viciously around him.
His eyes were chasms of black. “And why would it be so different for you, Brother? We’re both born from the same father. We’re both tainted by his darkness. Or you do think there is another reason why I did what I did?”
“Is this really relevant?” Ambrose asked, his jaw clenched.
Rosalind’s stomach fluttered. Okay. So I’m witnessing some weird family drama.
Malphas took a slow breath. “It will be different because we’re prepared this time, and I have you to guide me.”
Caine took a step closer to his brother. “Perhaps you should just say what’s on your mind Malphas. We have the same father. But not the same mother.”
Tammi wrinkled her nose. “We can come back later, if this is a bad time.”
Ambrose paced over the flagstones, glancing at Rosalind. “I need a status update about Drew’s army. What did you see?”
Rosalind shook her head. “Not much. I was in a fog the whole time. I saw guards, but nothing of their army.”
Caine frowned. “I’ve been interrogating Erish. She isn’t telling me everything, but my spies are feeding me more information. Your wife created legions of demons who haven’t darkened the earth’s surface for millennia. Ifrit, Pazuzu, Uridimmu, Asag… I’m still learning what else.”
“What?” Rosalind asked.
Aurora leaned in, whispering, “Fire demons, plague demons, gruesome hounds, and… I don’t know.”
“Right.”
“All waiting to attack,” Ambrose said.
“Last night, some of my spies reported that a horde of Pazuzu were trying to break through the shields through a portal Drew had created.”
“And what did you do about it?” Ambrose asked.
“It was daylight in the human world.” Caine glanced at Rosalind. “Rosalind helpfully brought us a small troop of valkyrie who’d been imprisoned by Drew, and they’re after his blood. I led them through the portal, and we fended off the attack. And moreover, the shield is holding for now. It won’t last forever, but we have plenty of supplies. There are the women in the harem for blood, and Rosalind has brought us a fresh supply of humans.”
Rosalind raised her hand. “I wouldn’t call them supplies. If they give blood, it should be voluntary.”
As Caine and Ambrose continued arguing, Rosalind turned to Tammi. “Who is Owen with?”
“He’s in the harem. Those chicks are obsessed with him. And there’s a fae warrior guarding him. He’s fine.”
Breaking off from his argument with Ambrose, Caine glanced at Rosalind for the first time. “You have the power of seven gods.”
“You don’t say.”
“So perhaps we don’t need a third human,” Caine said. “When the first three mages conducted the spell, they had only human powers. They had extensive knowledge of Angelic and how to manipulate magic, but they were still mere humans. Rosalind and I have their magical knowledge, and we are gods.”
“That’s a bit much,” Aurora muttered, giving Rosalind the side-eye.
Rosalind crossed to Caine. “It’s worth a shot. I don’t really understand Caine’s objections fully, since he’s never told me what exactly happened when my parents gave him that extra soul. But this journey with another soul hasn’t been an easy ride. When Cleo first started inhabiting my mind, she kept trying to light me on fire. She could have killed me.” She glanced at Malphas, thinking of their kiss. “And at times she has taken over my body completely. We don’t know what Malphas’s second soul would do to him.”
“So you agree with me,” Caine said.
“Not entirely.” She cocked her head. “It’s worth a shot to see if we can spare Malphas what we went through. But if it doesn’t work, we’ve run out of options. We can’t keep waiting around while Drew plans the next invasion. Even if you’re protecting against the sunlight, his powers are growing. I could feel them.”
Divine Hunter (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 4) Page 8