by Caris Roane
As he stared hard at nothing in particular, Ian’s perspective began to shift. Raven’s Overlook slipped into his mind, the horror, the carnage, the loss of those he loved.
“I don’t get it. His brother died there. His more powerful brother. Which would mean he’d planned his death.”
Stone shook Ian’s arm. “Whose brother? Talk to me.”
He met Stone’s gaze, but shook his head back and forth. “This can’t be possible. I have to be wrong. Otherwise what happened here tonight began five-hundred years ago. It can’t be true.”
Stone yanked his arm hard. “Fuck it, talk to me. You know who it is, don’t you?”
It could only be one person, but Ian couldn’t speak the name aloud.
He jerked his arm away and thrust his hands into his hair, dislodging the woven clasp. He’d chosen to believe Ben. That was what came to him. Ben had said Regan had enthralled him. Those had been Ben’s words all those centuries ago. And Ian had believed him.
Ravens Overlook.
All the dead.
His sister ripped to pieces, her babies with her.
He heard a loud wind, or sound, or something. But it was coming out of his throat.
He levitated then took off flying north. Maye he could escape the truth if he flew fast enough.
Stone ghosted his movements, tracking with him.
For the last several centuries, Ian had cast all the blame at Regan’s feet. But the whole time, a snake had slithered through Camberlaune, feeding Ian’s mind with poison.
But what else had Ben done on his watch? What other nightmares had he instigated?
Ian recalled the attack on Westbreak Village two-hundred years ago. Though it wasn’t as severe as Raven’s Overlook, some had called it a massacre because thirty Realm-folk had died, including two of his most powerful Guardsmen. One of them had been a mastyr equal to Ben.
Ian could recall a couple more incidences where powerful mastyrs had died in the midst of an Invictus blitz attack. He had to conclude these hadn’t been random after all. Ben was just getting rid of his competition.
Holy fuck. Never had a vampire been so ambitious, so ruthless as Ben. And Ian hadn’t seen it.
When the storm of awareness finally passed, Ian was left with an ice cold sensation throughout his body that made his fingers ache.
Slowly, he came back to himself and levitated midair to gain his bearings. He’d been moving steadily north and was somewhere over the Dauphaire Mountains.
The air was freezing cold, matching the frost in his veins.
Stone said nothing, just stuck close as Ian turned to head back the way he’d come, back to the fortress.
But something else nagged at him, something he’d forgotten.
What was the last thing Ben had said to him?
A new kind of dread filled him as he recalled everything he’d told Ben.
Come with me, he pathed to Stone.
I’m with you, brother.
Ian picked up speed, his blood tattoos throbbing hot now.
He’d covered over fifty miles from the time his mind had connected the dots.
When he reached the granite outcrop, he zeroed in on the opposite side of the gorge where he knew Regan and his two Guardsmen had flown.
He crossed, landing at the edge of the trees, then moved inside.
He could smell death before he reached the bodies.
Two good men lay with chests and internals fried, the skin blackened around the edges from a powerful battle blast.
“Damn all the elf lords to hell,” Stone said. “What happened here?”
In a monotone, Ian told him everything he’d just figured out.
Stone listened. “But if Margetta could get to Ben … ”
“She didn’t. I’m convinced Ben went to her and offered himself up. In fact, I’m sure of it. He’s been aligned with her since before Raven’s Overlook.”
“You believe he was responsible for the massacre.”
“Yes. He needed to make sure his brother died.”
Stone scowled. “I don’t get it. Why would he do that?”
“His brother had more essential power. If something happened to me, Ben’s brother would have ruled.”
“The devil is in this.”
Ian blinked, a slow painful dip of his lids. “He separated me from Regan. She was too powerful as well. She was a threat to his plans, especially being fae. She’d picked up on something earlier tonight at the midnight meal. Ben had been there and she’d said something was off. I paid no attention. It was a fae thing, which I can’t relate to, so I discounted it. But this … ”
He glanced around as though looking for something, but didn’t know what.
“Ian.” Stone’s voice sounded a mile distant.
“What?”
“Where’s Regan?”
The full reality hit Ian like a heavy blow to his chest. Once more he roared into the night air, rising swiftly and shouting his rage.
Ben had Regan and there was no doubt in his mind he had one intention, to force the blood rose bond.
Worse, he didn’t even know where to begin the hunt.
~ ~ ~
Regan woke up with her arms on fire.
Pain.
So much pain.
“There you are.” She recognized Margetta’s voice, the lovely melodic sound that hid the woman’s venom. “I guess this must hurt.”
Regan opened her eyes and tried to lift her right arm. But she was bound to the side of the bed. Margetta had both her hands over the blood tattoos, working to remove them.
“Are you using your battle energy?” Regan could hardly breathe the pain was so bad.
“Yes. I tried a spell, but I couldn’t easily break through this strange blood-bond you created with Mastyr Ian. So I’m frying your skin. It’s working very well and will have the same effect as a counter-spell, but in a tenth of the time.”
Regan sank into the pain, letting it roll over her. She drifted once more into unconsciousness.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before a scent like eucalyptus brought her around. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Margetta held a sachet beneath her nose.
“Good. You’re back.”
The pain had diminished to a dull throb, something she could bear. At the same time, she sent healing into her arms. “Where am I?”
“What does it matter? You’re mine now and very soon, you’ll serve me.”
She glanced around. “Not the fortress, I see.”
“No. Unfortunately, your boyfriend overran it with his force and some of Stone’s army as well. So, this will have to do. This is one of Ben’s homes. But don’t think you’ll be rescued. No one knows about this dwelling and I’ve set up a spell to guard it.”
Regan stared at the scourge of the Nine Realms. She recalled the beauty of the woman’s spells. “What happened to you?”
Margetta leaned back slightly. “You mean, to make me the way I am?”
“Yes. Your spells are beautiful. Melodic and poetic.”
Margetta laughed. “Your compliments will not save you.”
“But I’d like to know.”
Margetta shrugged. “You want to know if daddy tortured and raped me. Well, he didn’t. I had a lovely upbringing. I just got bored of life, especially as my powers grew. One day, I decided that no matter how long it took, I would rule the Nine Realms.” Her lips curved. “And I will.”
She then snapped her fingers. “Come, Ben. We’re almost ready here.”
Regan shifted and saw Ben push away from a wood-paneled wall. So, she’d been right about him. “You killed two of your Guardsmen to get to me.”
“Two of Ian’s. They were never mine.”
“They didn’t know that. They served you as though you were the mastyr.”
He lifted his chin, his eyes colder than she’d ever seen them. “But I wasn’t, was I?”
Her mind rolled back to the massacre. “You planned and executed what happened at Raven’s Overlook.
”
“Of course.”
“Including feeding Ian’s beliefs I was to blame, and that I’d enthralled him.”
“Ian’s guilt ruled him. It wasn’t hard to make you the scapegoat and it was the best way to get rid of your influence. You were too powerful, even back then. I knew if you stayed with Ian, one day you’d see me for what I am. I couldn’t take the risk. I thought about killing you outright, but that would have alerted Ian that something else was going on.”
She sank back onto the pillows. Somehow she’d ended up abducted by Margetta twice in little over a month. Now she was strapped to a bed with Ben ready to make use of her blood rose powers by bonding with her.
How had this happened?
She dropped swiftly into her meditative state, then attempted to path Ian. Are you there?
“Not gonna happen.” Margetta put her hand on Regan’s head.
Pain sliced through her so fast that Regan cried out and sudden tears poured from her eyes. A blocking spell formed at the same time.
“You gonna do that again?”
Regan shook her head. “No, I guess not.”
Though the agony had passed, Regan’s head throbbed. She accessed her healing vibration and let it flow. In doing so, however, she could tell that the spell Margetta had installed would deliver pain whenever she attempted to path anyone.
How would Ian ever find her if she couldn’t communicate with him? Besides, she still didn’t even know where she was. Ben’s home could be anywhere in Camberlaune.
Margetta released the bindings on Regan’s arm. She could move now and pulled both arms over her chests protectively.
Ben drew close, settling his hand on her shoulder. She could hear him draw in a deep breath. “What am I smelling? A very rich fragrance, very floral.” He released his breath, closing his eyes at the same time. “So this is what it’s like. To be near a blood rose.”
Regan had two thoughts at once. First was a realization the blood tattoos were completely gone and no longer protected her. Second, she thought Ben the most beautiful vampire she’d ever seen.
She could also tell he needed to feed.
As one in a trance, she sat up and extended her arm to him. “Take from my vein.”
~ ~ ~
Ian flew back over the Dauphaire Mountains, hunting for Regan, crisscrossing the land faster than he ever had before. He kept calling out to her telepathically, but nothing returned to him. He’d left Stone in charge of combing the fortress and the deserted camp for anything that could help him locate Margetta or Regan.
But searching in this way made little sense. Ben had her, which meant she was back under Margetta’s thumb. It wouldn’t do much good to use a scattergun approach in trying to find her.
Reaching the northeastern section of the mountains, he headed to his cabin. A few minutes later, he landed on the deck and paced the length in quick hard strides, shoving his hair away from his face since the clasp was long gone.
A sickness had taken hold of him, a guilt so profound he could hardly breathe. He’d misjudged Regan for five long centuries. He’d convinced himself she’d enthralled him, that she alone was responsible for Raven’s Overlook.
Instead – Goddess help him – the horrendous killing had been orchestrated by Ben. Ian couldn’t fathom how he’d completely misjudged the man. How could a warrior he’d trusted with his life, for such a long time, have done these terrible things?
He continued to march. He had to think this through, had to figure out how to find Regan.
He paused in his marching and lifted his arms up. He’d been so caught up in his distress he hadn’t realized the blood tattoos had now disappeared. Margetta had severed his connection to Regan, leaving her vulnerable to another mastyr, to Ben.
In sheer agony, he dropped to his knees and roared into the night sky. This was Margetta’s work. He could feel it in his bones.
But how had he gotten here? Was it truly because he’d trusted the wrong person all these years?
A cool night breeze blew along the deck, lifting his hair.
In the end, this was all his fault.
When he thought back to the massacre, especially to the horror of finding his beautiful sister dead, he’d fallen into his grief then and there. He remembered feeling like he’d been thrown into a pit he’d never be able to escape.
Regan had been with him. She’d sought comfort in his arms, but he’d pushed her away. Somehow, she was responsible for the massacre, at least that’s what he’d chosen to believe. Whether she’d enthralled him or not, his love, desire and need for her had kept him from Camberlaune.
For a long time afterward, Ben had remained silent. But at what moment had he started to support Ian’s conviction Regan had been to blame for Raven’s Overlook? Was it Ben who had first suggested Regan had enthralled him? He could recall Ben hinting: hadn’t Regan’s eyes turned silver on several occasions? If only Ian had been in Camberlaune that night, that’s what Ben had said to him. Repeatedly.
So, Ian had made Regan his scapegoat. But the last thing he could have handled at any point following the death of his sister, was admitting he’d been culpable. He wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. His guilt had ruled him.
As he lay the entire situation out in his mind, one question arose. Why had he never doubted Ben’s loyalty? Why had it never crossed his mind that Ben might be a traitor?
He had only to think back to the night of the massacre and he knew why. When Ben had found his brother’s body, he’d gone wild with grief and had been completely inconsolable. And not just that night. Ben had been out of his mind for weeks.
Looking back, Ian knew Ben hadn’t been putting on a show; his grief had been real. Ian could only suppose that whatever the nature of his plans, which had included the murder of his brother, the reality afterward had been something entirely different. Ben had experienced real pain for what he’d done and had been a wrecked man for months, eyes reddened day after day. Ben had lost weight and muscle, something warriors should never do. Killing his brother had hurt Ben
Because Ben had been grief-stricken, Ian had thought they’d suffered in the same way. Now Ian realized how wrong he’d been. Feeling bad after the fact was a far different cry from choosing not to commit a treasonous, murderous act in the first place. Ian’s view of Ben had always been slanted by the depth of Ben’s grief. He’d misinterpreted the signs completely and had placed his absolute faith in Ben. Now Ben had control of Regan.
Ian had little doubt as well that if he had continued to see Regan after the massacre, Ben would have found some other means of forging a divisive wall between them. Maybe he would have continued killing off more Camberlaune Realm-folk until Ian’s guilt sent Regan away. Or maybe he would have simply had her killed.
And all this time, Regan had been guilty of only one thing: Loving him to the point of madness, just as she’d said.
Slowly, Ian rose from the deck. Something profound shifted within him in that moment. Maybe he’d run from Regan all those years ago because of his guilt about what had happened at Raven’s Overlook, but he wouldn’t anymore. He realized now that if he’d stuck with Regan, instead of shunning her as the problem, Ben’s treachery would have long since risen to the surface.
He had no doubt Ben believed he’d won now that he had Regan in his clutches. But every bone in Ian’s body knew differently. He was going after Ben and nothing would stop him.
The only question that remained was how to find Ben.
He began to pace again, yet this time he refused to allow guilt to swamp him. Instead, new ideas began to flow.
His thoughts turned toward Regan and how she’d doggedly worked to find the counter-spell by understanding Margetta’s initial spell. She’d analyzed it and broken it down into several parts. She’d focused on only that, until she’d found the right formula.
He needed to do something similar. He turned his attention therefore to Ben. He was the key. Even if the Ancient Fae was involved, Ian
only needed to analyze Ben in order to discover where he would have taken Regan.
And he knew exactly where to start.
Rising swiftly into the night air, he flew east in the direction of his Communication Center.
CHAPTER TEN
Regan had a battle going on within her mind as Ben drank from her wrist. She wanted and needed him because she was a blood rose, but her heart lived elsewhere and beat now with a fire she knew as Ian.
She loved Ian. She always had and this time with him, as transient as it had felt at the beginning, had only deepened her love.
She felt foolish in a way she couldn’t explain, as though centuries of separation hadn’t mattered one whit in how she really felt, would always feel.
But the blood rose in her was fixated on Ben, only on Ben, on resolving forever his chronic blood starvation, on making him stronger as a vampire and a warrior, on taking him into her body.
Desire for him flowed in tempting waves until she could hardly breathe. Thank the Goddess Margetta had left, but the Ancient Fae had said something about regrouping and had vanished. She hadn’t levitated and left by the front door; she’d simply disappeared, as Davido and Vojalie could, another sign of the woman’s power.
And again, Regan had the sense Margetta wasn’t worried, as though she had plans in place that no one could defeat. The only thing she’d asked is that Ben get rid of Ian for good. Ben had made it clear he had no other intention.
But Regan had to do something or she knew how this time would end, especially since she could already feel Ben’s mating vibration probing to gain entrance within her chest. Once he did, once his energy touched hers, she felt pretty certain she wouldn’t be able to resist her overwhelming need to give herself to him completely.
As Ben groaned and suckled at her wrist, she dove deep, falling into the upper portion of her meditative state. She couldn’t go completely because she needed to stay in tune with Ben’s moment-to-moment intentions and to take action against him when necessary.
Goddess help her. She was in serious trouble.
And where was Ian? Could he ever find her?
~ ~ ~
A few minutes after leaving the Dauphaire Mountains, Ian arrived at the Communication Center in Somerstrong. The city was one of the largest in Camberlaune, built along both banks of the Peralin River. Lights glimmered from dozens of restaurants and shops fronting the broad stretch of water.