The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One)

by Lenore Wolfe

  And by then, of course, it was too late.

  It was an easy victory—almost too easy.

  They won the battle this day, and they had easily subdued their enemy. But it was a victory that would have Constantine plotting revenge—not congratulating them on their coup.

  And they all knew they were a long way from winning the war.

  Though the war with Constantine was far from being over, the men still celebrated in the streets. Even many of the humans came out of their homes to celebrate, for many of them were no longer blind to what was happening around them. They could no longer ignore all the strange things that were occurring around them every day.

  They could no longer ignore the signs that told them they were not alone.

  And for these newly awakened humans—they now understood they had a friend in those who fought to save not just their home—but the home of all who lived here on Mother Earth.

  They celebrated the first win—and prayed they could continue to achieve victory and save themselves from the enemy that was bringing such terror every night when the sun went down.

  The other humans peeked out into the night at the revelry. No one could ignore the fact that so many humans were coming up dead—nor could they ignore the mysterious circumstances under which so many others were disappearing.

  The nights were not the same lately.

  They had been bringing the constant whisper of an unnamed threat, and lately that threat had begun to become more than just a whisper on the wind of impending doom. It had become a great shiver, snaking down the spine of the Mother herself, warning Her children of certain death—if they did not awaken soon—if they did not awaken now.

  Not all things that went bump in the night were just the wind—and not all things that they had been taught to fear were evil. Some of those being were helpful, unseen friends—while some of them were a true and well-hidden enemy.

  The trick laid in listening to their hearts and not the fears of others—as well as learning to tell the difference.

  It was some time later when Jes and Justice sat quietly before the cauldron. Her sisters stood across the round table, where the cauldron sat upon a stovetop burner they’d had installed for themselves.

  No one spoke.

  They were all more than a little afraid to voice the fears they shared.

  Occasionally, Jes would glance at her sisters, but the worry she saw in their eyes, as they worked, reflected her own too much to bear, and she would turn her full attention back to the pot with renewed vigor.

  When Justice had returned from the streets, after they had beaten back Constantine’s horde, the terror she had felt from him—and knowing where it was coming from-had caused them all to redouble their efforts to try to figure out how they could help.

  Jes had become so in-tune with her mate that they had decided to try, once more, to use this connection to see if he could contact Mia. They were more worried about her than ever—more so now that they had beaten back Constantine’s armies. They had tried once already to contact her, but it had ended in disaster and put Justice into a foul mood.

  Now they had the added worry that Constantine would take his anger over the loss of his fledglings out on her.

  As she stirred the pot, she fumed silently—mostly at herself. Mia was her best friend. Why had they let her go? Why hadn’t they stopped her? What were they thinking?

  Justice came to stand beside her, putting his hand over hers, preventing her from stirring the pot any more.

  “I don’t know much about your spells—but I don’t think this one will work very well with all that anger and worry churning inside of you,” he said gently, looking down into her eyes.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. She felt him kiss first her forehead, and then both of her eyelids, and when she opened her eyes to look into his, they were swimming with tears, which ran down her cheeks unchecked when she saw the moisture in the pale eyes gazing back at her.

  He gathered her close to him.

  She was scared. He was, too.

  It was a slim chance—and they had already failed once. They all knew that Constantine would have taken steps to prevent their communications.

  But they were counting on the strength of the connection between Justice and his sister to let them break though. The problem was that Jes wasn’t the one who was familiar with shamanic journeys—Mira was. But Mira had been trying to give her a few quick lessons since they had tried it the first time.

  When Justice let go of Jes, Jes glanced at her sisters, and when she realized that Mira was also on the verge of tears and even Dara was fighting her deep emotions, she almost broke down again.

  The sisters quickly had Justice and Jes lie down on the beds they had prepared, and readied them for the trance they would enter in their attempt to try to make the contact.

  This would require a deep, trance state, and they tried to make the setting as conducive as possible to inducing the necessary state.

  When Justice and Jes were comfortable, Mira and Dara began to chant. It was then that Justice and Jes heard Amar. They had closed their eyes, but both of them opened them again and glanced around the room in surprise. Amar quietly commanded them to lie back and keep their eyes closed while she walked them through some guided imagery for the journey.

  Jes was surprised to find herself standing in the room with Justice. They both stared for a moment at her sisters chanting, and heard Amar’s voice guiding them. They saw themselves lying on the bed and glanced down at the appearance of their bodies, then looked at each other with some surprise.

  “Wow!” Jes exclaimed. “Mira told me about such journeys—but—wow!”

  Justice spun around. “I feel so—weightless!” He laughed. “I think I could actually fly if I tried.” He started to lift off of the floor.

  Jes grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.

  “Mira warned me to be careful here,” she whispered fiercely. “She said it would be easy to forget what we came here to do! We must concentrate on Mia.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

  He held back, not allowing her to drag him from the room, looking a little alarmed now. “Where are you going? How will we find her?” He looked back at the bed where his body lay. “How will we find our way back?”

  Jes grinned at him. “We will know the way. Just concentrate on Mia.”

  He frowned at her. He clearly wasn’t comfortable with the idea of traveling about without his body. She couldn’t help but giggle. She wasn’t used to seeing Justice afraid of anything.

  “Shouldn’t we have power animals or something to guide us?” he said.

  “Well—yes,” she answered. “Especially if we were going to go to the lower world. But we’re doing a thing that the army likes to call remote viewing. And although it’s not without its dangers—in fact it can be more than a little dangerous—we’re only traveling through what the Shamans call the middle world. Right now we’re going to let our love for Mia help to guide us, since we have not spent time finding our power animals. Besides,” she said, “we have Amar to guide our way.”

  She again tugged on his hand, but he still held back. He glanced down into her eyes, listening as Amar commanded them along. Finally, he let her guide him to the door.

  When they stepped outside of it, they found themselves in an abandoned building. They glanced around in surprise. At least, it appeared abandoned.

  Jes couldn’t figure out why they had been led here, but since they had been concentrating on Mia, something must have brought them there. So she decided to try calling her. “Mia?” she yelled.

  She was somewhat surprised when she heard her answer, “In here!”

  They ran to the closed door of a room, where they found her peering at them through a small set of bars, high up on a very thick, oak door.

  “Are you okay? Stand back!” Justice commanded and rammed the door with his shoulder.

  Mia moved t
o the side, but quickly told him to stop. “First, it’s grounded in magic by some old witch,” she told him, “and second, we both know I have to be here.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” he growled and hit the door again. It didn’t even budge, and he rubbed his shoulder.

  Mia peered out the small set of bars at him. “We must, brother,” she told him gently. “Trust in Morgi. If there is a way to get him to feed on me….”

  Justice’s eyes turned black with anger at those words.

  “Please, brother,” she whispered. The quiet entreaty in her voice seemed to bring him to his senses.

  “Tell us what we can do to help you!” Jes commanded.

  “Okay,” Mia said with a small smile. “Use this,” and she pulled some hairs from her head, “to build a strong connection between us. Do whatever you can to build it strong, and be waiting for when Constantine puts me wherever he has planned for us all to meet—and then tries to lure you into his trap.” Her voice took on a furious whisper now. Jes had never seen her so serious. “Whatever happens—do not let him win! Or I’ve done all of this for nothing!”

  Jes nodded, touching Mia’s fingers where she had her small hands gripped upon the bars. “Did he—hurt you?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  Mia shook her head. “He’s been too enthralled with getting Morgi back in his control for a time.”

  Justice nodded. “Well, that’s something anyway.”

  Mia pressed her face closer to the bars. “Go now, before he senses you here!”

  They nodded and pressed kisses on her fingers. There was not a dry eye when Jes and Justice disappeared from the room.

  The last thing they sensed from Mia—was her slumping to the floor in tears.

  Jes sat up on the bed, silent tears streaming down her face. Justice immediately sat up and gathered her into his arms. She wept through her words, with Justice holding her, as she told her sisters what had happened.

  And held out to them the strands of Mia’s hair.

  Dara immediately stepped forward and took them from her. “Oh, excellent!” She quickly walked to the pot, calling, “Amar!”

  Jes couldn’t have been more surprised to hear her sister command Amar that way, nor to see Amar come from the adjoining room and allow her to get away with the commanding note that had been in her voice.

  As Jes watched, she remembered how her grandmother had appeared to them, as if from the air itself, before they had left on their shamanic journey.

  But she didn’t have time to question what strange things were going on with her grandmother.

  They had work to do.

  It was Dracon who told Justice when Constantine finally sent a runner. The runner had told him that Constantine had taken his youngest sister back to the shack in the woods where he had led them before. They were to come there again, and if they didn’t show up soon, he would first turn her and then make her one of the many women he kept all over the world.

  Justice, of course, was half-way out the door before Dracon had even finished talking. Dracon followed him, telling him that he had already sent the men to ready the armies.

  They were told to come just after midnight. Not any sooner—and not any later.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Killer

  Constantine stood before them, high up on a bluff, standing at the edge of a narrow cliff. He had a flair for the dramatic. And right now, he had his men blowing horns—like Jericho. He looked down at them. They were perhaps thirty feet below him. His white hair billowed out as the strong breeze coming up the hill caught it. His skin was translucent to the point of nearly being white itself. His eyes were so black they could see the darkness in them even from where they stood—well below him. He was tall and slender, and wore one of the old capes of his ancestors. This one was as white as his hair. He was angry, and had a mean, hard look in his dark eyes.

  And his fangs were showing.

  He had perhaps thirty men with him, standing behind him, waiting for him to make his move. Justice could only hope that the horns that were blowing would not intimidate his armies—in much the same way that humans had used music to intimidate their enemy when they had fought the war in Vietnam.

  But the sound was eerie. And from the looks on the men’s faces—the attempt at intimidation was working.

  Constantine was most at home—in war.

  He sprang off the cliff and came to land before them in an impressive stance. His men were there beside him in a flash.

  Justice and Dracon were there with their armies to greet him.

  Jasmine and Ophelia slipped through the woods like silent thieves. Their sister was in the hands of Constantine, and the waiting had been horrible. She had walked into the greatest danger—willingly—to give them an edge.

  But now, they were finally moving to get her back.

  It felt good to be doing something. They had just come through one of Roman’s doorways and now scouted the woods for the Sisters of Three, relaying what they found back to the sisters, who waited to cross through the doorway to meet them at the shack where Mia was being held.

  They felt strange with one of them was missing, but they were going to fix that now.

  They were in constant contact with Justice and Dracon, kept up-to-date with how the battle was going—but from the sounds of it, the men were not faring well, and it was also apparent that Constantine was again interfering with their communication with Justice and Dracon—although, after the last time, they had expected this.

  What he had been unable to interrupt, however, was the connection that Jes had formed with Mia—from the moment she had helped Justice find her—through the shamanic journey.

  That connection had strengthened over the last few days, and Constantine had been unable to break it. Both sets of sisters were now counting on that to help them to save Mia.

  But from the panic that Jes had been in ever since returning from the journey, they were all afraid that it may already be too late.

  No one knew for certain what trap an aged vamp like Constantine might have ready to spring on them. He certainly had not just been waiting for them to make their move. He most likely had been anticipating the moment that they failed to see what he was about.

  The two sisters approached the shack on silent feet. The forest again held its breath. Not even the birds warned of who walked the forest this day.

  That in itself was an omen they didn’t care to think about.

  The two sets of sisters were the ones who would try to free Mia, while the battle hopefully kept Constantine busy. They knew they were dealing with a formidable enemy, one who quite possibly knew every trick ever known, throughout all of history, for defeating his foe.

  But they were astonished to find that no one—no one at all–had been left to guard the shack. It sent a shiver down their respective spines—for Constantine was not careless.

  And they did not have time to try to figure out exactly what trap he had set for them.

  They approached the door, and Dara had almost stepped through the doorway, when they saw Morgi—and witnessed her hushing them with a wave of her hand in an effort to sound a silent alarm. The sisters moved forward quickly, as quietly as they could. The Sisters of Three were already approaching the other side of the cabin. They had come through Roman’s doorway, but Jasmine immediately put up her hand to halt any further action on their part.

  Ophelia stared at them from the broken window across the way. They could see Mia. She stood within a circle. No one guarded the circle either.

  Yet, even so, each of them knew they wouldn’t be able to get her out.

  When the Sisters of Three had come around through the shack door—and stood in front of the circle—Jes finally met Mia’s gaze.

  She had to fight to do so.

  She did not want Mia to see—what she knew would show within her own eyes.

  And she did not want to see—what would be there within Mia’s either.

  When Jes
finally did meet her gaze, Mia only shook her head at her in sadness. She looked at all three of them—meeting their gazes bravely. “Go sisters,” she commanded softly. “There is nothing you can do!”

  But Morgi was already waving at them to stand on the other side of the circle. Mia stared at Morgi as she slowly walked the circle surrounding her. Mira also walked the circle. Jes had no idea what was going on; the power she felt was far too strong for any of them to break. They could potentially kill Mia while trying to free her from Constantine’s charm.