by Ian Thomas
When he saw it was the four first on the scene versus the dark mage and three wolves, Eddie worried this would be their last stand.
A noise caught his attention. Ready to give up, he looked at doors and saw Hayley leading three very welcome faces into the lobby. Her own face stricken as she saw the carnage before her.
“Rowan!” McLachlan called, seeing the reinforcements. “Would yo–” He stopped seeing her anger tighten the lines of her mouth. “Or ya know…not.”
“Stop!” she snapped, focusing her energy and casting protection spells on them. “You might hurt yourself.”
“Sit-Rep?” Proctor barked, closing on Eddie.
“Fubar, sir. Colton has Storm under his control. Will and Somerset are aligned with Colton,” Eddie replied, then looked at Proctor, voice lowered. “What is she doing here?”
“Stopping us from making a mistake,” Proctor replied, seeing Storm falter at the newcomers.
Jackson and Flynn ran passed their leader, changing into their wolf forms and joining the fight. More casually, Proctor strode toward Will, bursting through the transformation. He took the Londoner down easily, then leapt at Somerset who had been toying with Illyana. The distraction allowed Rufus to run in, grab her, and run out.
Maybe this wouldn’t be their last stand after all. Though there was still Colton to worry about.
“Don’t die,” Eddie said, looking at Hayley.
“Nice to see you too,” she replied.
“I’m with him,” Rowan said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “Be safe.”
“What can I do?”
“Get Chase out. He’s most at risk.”
“What about you?” Hayley asked.
“Wish people would stop treating me like I’m weak,” Rowan seethed and walked away from her friend.
_ _ _
Rowan knew they were looking at her. Worried, concerned, fretting. And not because of the physical injuries that were almost healed. No, it was because she wasn’t the simpering nurse maid they expected her to be.
Things changed.
She’d changed.
“Not so much really,” Daniel said, appearing before her.
“Shut up, Daniel,” she replied, walking through his ghost. The hollow chill felt all too familiar. It was the same sensation she’d felt when Colton killed him. They’d been miles apart, but she she’d felt it. Their…connection die. So clear as though he’d died right in front of her. Then again when his death was confirmed. Then a few days ago when Hayley told her Michael was dead.
“Rowan?” Chase called behind her. Supported by Hayley, he was struggling to stand. A fracture or torn ligament in his left leg unbalancing him. She’d be expected to heal that as well. Get the vampire to do it, she silently fumed.
“Go with Hayley,” she said.
From the look on his face, she saw his concern wasn’t to do with his leg. He wanted her to leave, to be safe, let the wolves scrap it out between themselves. He didn’t think it was her fight.
Oh, but it was.
Colton had taken too much from her. From everyone. A werewolf practicing witchcraft perverted every natural law. Even the dark ones. And all for his selfish delights. Watching people suffer unbelievable anguish, prolonging death long enough to feel the victim’s soul break, bathe in blood and revel in the misery, agony, and destruction that was like nectar to him.
Well, she’d do what others hadn’t. They’d be rid of him. Finally.
As Hayley helped him away, Rowan realized everyone had the battle under control. With Illyana healed and more War Wolves on their side, the end was close. Which left Colton to muddy the waters again if he dared.
“D’you know how many people have wanted to kill you?” Will demanded, leering over McLachlan. Her friend had huge slashes in his abdomen, pants now dark with blood. Rowan was about to cast a spell when she saw help had arrived.
Illyana.
Her hand closed on Will’s arm, glowing purple as it drained him. He cried out but it came as a gargle as his body reverted and shriveled. His bluster and fury emaciated as completely as his body was.
Wordlessly, Illyana let his body fall. A cycle of grief completed for her. Rowan would know a thing or two about that with any luck. Did it bring the siren satisfaction? Closure, yes, but more than that?
“You didn’t have to kill him,” McLachlan cried out.
Yes, she did, Rowan thought. Will was a vicious mongrel. He took too much pleasure killing people. He’d tortured Michael. He’d let Dominic die. And there was the constant abuse Blackthorne turned a blind eye to. In Rowan’s mind, Illyana had done them all a favor.
Just as she’d do with Colton. Sometimes it took a person who constantly bridled their power to unleash it in the name of right, however wrong their final action was.
Somerset saw the dead husk and backed away. Smacking Isaac out of the way, he turned for the front doors and ran. Jackson started to chase but Proctor called him back. They’d need all numbers to restrain the largest wolf.
“Rowan?” Eddie called.
As she started forward, away from her friends, she caught sight of movement above the scene. Between the pillars of the upper floor she saw Colton walking briskly away from the battle. Little he could do now; this fight was lost. His attention turned to another.
Matteo.
The name occurred to her unbidden.
Continuing away from Eddie and the others, Rowan ran for the stairs.
“This is a bad idea,” Daniel warned.
Ignoring him, she tore through the mirage her soul hurting as he evaporated.
“Heal the wolf,” he said. “Then regroup. You’re smarter than this.”
“Not a head matter,” she replied, her heart sore.
“Rowan. Stop.”
She passed through him a final time, reaching the top of the stairs, her eyes hot with tears.
This was the vampire court. Empty now, but a grand room of couches, chairs, and a small dais at one end. Colton was ahead of her, striding toward an exit.
Cloaking herself in magic, Rowan followed. He was a dark enough mage to sense her but also arrogant enough to feel assured of his eventual success and escape.
Convinced of her own mission, she slipped through the door before it sighed shut. Along a dimly lit corridor, down one flight of steps, another, then another corridor before a switchback stair into the depths of the hotel.
This was going to be a one-way trip, she decided. For one of them at least.
Colton entered a final door, paused at the threshold and looked at her, a sinister curl to his mouth.
He knew. He’d known all along she was behind him. And still he’d led her on. Colton thought so little of her that he allowed her to follow him to this final point.
Leaving the door ajar, he disappeared into the darkness. She dropped the cloaking spell and replaced it with a repellent blessing. Even magic as dark as his shouldn’t be able to penetrate it.
With a deep breath, she crossed the threshold and found herself in a nondescript storage room. Trussed up between two pipes hung Ben, while Matteo was strapped to a chair in the middle of the room. A table stood nearby with an array of items, weapons, and magical supplies.
Rowan’s eyes widened when she recognized some of the items.
A bone dagger that emanated an unnatural coldness no doubt fashioned from a siren’s corpse. Next there was a bowl of swirling liquid. Quicksilver, emphasis on the silver. The last item caused her the greatest pain to see as she understood Colton’s plan.
Somerset’s ring.
He was going to suppress Matteo’s werewolf condition, allow him to become human – a crippled 500-year-old shell of himself – and if that didn’t kill him, the other weapons would seal his fate.
“Look at you with your neatly laid out tools.” She hoped he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice. He was a wolf. They had sensitive ears. He totally heard it. “Got ‘em all lined up, do ya? Ready to do some killing? Little torture maybe? D
o so love it when a mad man takes pride in his work.”
“And I do so like an audience,” Colton said. “Especially one who brings such potent magic with her.”
“Rowan?!” Matteo baulked, jerking in his restraints.
“Oh goody, here comes the whining,” Ben said, lifting his head.
For a couple of months now Rowan had wanted to be locked in a room with Ben. Perhaps once Colton was dead and Matteo was freed, she might get her chance.
XXXIII
Reminding herself that aside from everything else – his magic, being a werewolf, his violent and bloodied history – he was still a man, Rowan settled her nerves.
He was not a god.
Nor the devil incarnate.
Not even that frightening.
If anything he should be scared of her. Communing with spirits allowed her to tap into the anger and pain of his single one of victims throughout time. And there was so much of it.
Didn’t guarantee her the win. All in how she wielded that much power.
“We’ve never really spent any quality time together,” Colton remarked. “How are you?”
“I’m pretty sure one of us isn’t walking out of this room,” she replied.
“Ooh, a threat,” he sneered. “So how do you see this working?”
“Figured you’d be a colossal douche for a little bit, tell us how Matteo was a bad sire, reveal how you’re gonna kill him, and then get started doing it.”
“This is not about it him being a bad sire,” Colton replied.
“It isn’t?” Ben asked.
“See Ben,” Rowan replied, “that chip is for your shoulders and yours alone.”
“You weren’t a terrible sire,” Colton said, backhanding Matteo in the chair. “Just so…good.”
“Sorry for disappointing you,” Matteo replied sarcastically.
“But that is what you’re best at,” Ben said. “Disappointing people.”
“Fuck, Ben, give it a rest,” Rowan said. “If we actually start playing the who’s disappointed who more game…well you’d still come in second. Again.” She turned to Colton. “Just odd that we’re doing this in the vampires’ basement. Pretty sure you don’t want them involved.”
“Astute woman,” Colton said. “Would rather do this with as little interference as possible.”
“Hence the wolf showdown in the lobby?”
“Really is hard to get good help these days.”
“Then why Jason?” Matteo asked.
“Because he was there,” Colton said simply. “Because it would upset you. Because there’s something special about him. Not looks or personality. Oh no. But he will make an interesting wolf.”
“Then you really should thank Ben for bringing him into this,” Rowan said. “Doubt you would’ve found him otherwise.”
“No, that’s quite true,” Colton said, picking up the siren bone knife and walking to Ben. The tip glowed purple when it was pressed against his skin. Ben screamed in agony, head thrown back.
“Was that supposed to make us feel something?” Rowan asked. “Matteo? Anything?”
“Once, yes.”
“One question,” Rowan said. “How did you not die last time? We saw McLachlan kill you?”
“He killed someone,” Colton replied. “Just wasn’t me. A whole host of spells I cast on some wolfling after killing your husband.” She knew he said it to get a reaction. When she didn’t elicit one, he continued. “I figured killing him wasn’t going to afford me any mercy. Pretty good guess really. Figured the war was lacking in tragedy.”
“Oh no, it was tragic enough.”
Seeing his words were doing little goad her, he changed tact. “Forget this maudlin musing, shall we? Better to get this over with. Don’t need Gracchus down here stopping me. I should let you know that your magic can’t protect these two. I’ve seen to that. I’ve grown quite powerful you know.”
“I do actually.” Rowan smiled coldly to see him flinch ever so slightly. “Heard that’s how you spent the past five years. Learning ancient magic. The same magic which forged that ring. You’re not merely going to slip it on him and wait for old age to kill him.”
“Old, old age,” Ben added.
“No, you plan to shift the curse from that ring to his bones. Bond it to him so there’s no out. No hope. No chance of survival.”
“Something like that.”
“This is what I don’t get. If you wanted to kill Matteo, you could have done it before now. There was a good month where he was just kicking around in his boxers, fucking anything with a pulse, feeling sorry for himself and wallowing in pints of peanut butter.”
“Was really only a couple of weeks,” Matteo muttered.
“Kinda would have been a mercy killing, ya ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Colton spat.
“And see I get that part. You love the torture. All about it. Chaos, mayhem, daddy issues, blah, blah, blah. My god, you guys must be exhausted lugging these phenomenal egos around the place. Don’t know how you do it.”
“Not helping,” Matteo hissed.
“So I gotta figure you’re after something bigger. Something…well, I guess a little more evil than knocking off good old daddy dearest over here.”
“This,” Colton smiled. “You and your magic, him and the strength of his bloodline, the destruction of two hundred vampire souls.”
“Oh, so this is a power grab? Neat. But little obvious, isn’t it?”
“Tomorrow,” he breathed, a foulness emanating from him. “What world will this be tomorrow? The much-loved Pack Lord gone, exposed for the liar he was. The vampire court destroyed by his offspring. The accords won’t hold. You think the vessel can keep this together when his friends – his family – are dead. It won’t just be war. It’ll be the destruction of this world. Scorched earth. Start over. And I’ll lead it, vested with your magic, his strength and –”
“You sure this isn’t daddy issues playing out?” Rowan demanded, cutting him off. “Because I’m seeing this line up of artifacts, Benji strung up here, your sire in the chair, and really it looks like this is all about Matteo.”
“Because you think small.”
“Not really.” She smiled coldly. “See, the vampires won’t die. I’ve seen to that. As for your pet wolves out there? They’re all but down for the count. Which leaves me…”
“I underestimated you.”
“Most people do,” Rowan said flatly. “Think I’m all about the healing, scented candles, and herbal tea. Gets insulting after a while.”
“And this gets tiring,” Ben said. “Hey Colton, I’m guessing I’m here for a reason. As in you need a pup of his to complete the spell?”
“Correct.”
“Then maybe get on with it,” Ben sighed. “Been tortured a lot lately, but this…this mewling is the worst.”
The sad part, Rowan realized, was that Ben wasn’t using this as a distraction. He’d lost himself so much that he decided Colton was a better option than Matteo. And that death was a better option for himself. Oh, Ben, she thought bitterly, it’s never that easy.
“Why Ben?” Rowan asked.
“Because the spell requires the death of one Matteo sired,” Colton replied, then laughed. “And well, I’m not about to do it. Defeats the purpose and all. Besides oh gee, I seemed to have killed the rest of his direct bloodline.”
“Oh I don’t have a problem with you killing Ben,” Rowan said. “Not anymore. Just you’ll forgive my doubt but seems to me this could be another Times Square. Another ruse. A glamoured puppet. While you sit all Wizard of Oz style behind some curtain.”
“And miss this? Oh I don’t think so.”
“Good, all I needed to know.”
Lightning streaked from her hands, jagged ribbons of light ensnaring Colton and driving him back to the far wall. He cried in agony and frustration. He hadn’t expected this. Not this level of power. Not this level of hate.
In the respite, Rowan broke Matteo’s restra
ints.
As he moved back with her, the cords of light holding Colton faded and he regained his composure.
He looked at them both with a cruel smile, “nice try. But now it’s my turn.”
XXXIV
With Will dead, Somerset fled, the remaining combatants were Liam of Blackthorne’s pack and the enlarged, enraged, Storm.
Illyana’s touch shocked the wolf enough to allow her into his psyche. Calming the savage beast, he soon reverted to himself.
“Let’s not do that again, shall we?” Eddie asked, helping to arrange the comatose bodies of the wolves. He remembered the pain and indignity of having his neck broken by Colton. These men wouldn’t wake well.
“Deal,” Proctor said.
“Not entirely sure how we’re gonna explain tearing up the foyer to Gracchus,” Eddie said.
“Termites,” McLachlan joked. “Wait? Where’s Rowan?”
All present looked around concerned but to no avail.
“Oh, we’re gonna pay for this later,” Eddie said as Illyana backhanded McLachlan in the gut to emphasize the point.
“She’s with him.”
“Daniel?” Amid the wreckage of the foyer, Daniel’s ghost appeared to them. A couple of the War Wolves fell back startled. To those who knew Daniel, the sight of him staggered them, their grief over him and Michael threatening to drown them.
“Colton. She’s going to kill him.”
“Not Rowan.”
“She wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“She will,” Daniel said. “She’s wielding dark magic. She’ll lose herself.”
His words stole the air from the room. Rowan was a white witch. She communed with nature, earthly forces. Everyone knew that. But magic was pure energy, positively and negatively charged depending on the person using it. Rowan could go dark and if she did, even to end a thing so foul as Colton, there’d be no going back.
“No,” McLachlan said, almost scoffing at the idea.
“She’s already used magic selfishly to heal herself,” Daniel said. That clinched it. McLachlan knew all too well how Rowan would use little else the long weeks she’d suffer through a common cold refusing anything but herbal tea.