My hands found my stakes at my hips. Peace invaded. I lifted my left arm up, my jacket sleeve gaping enough at the opening for me to see inside. Sunshine yellow.
And a smattering of crimson.
Rage simmered beneath the peace.
“You fed off me,” I said, my voice gaining in volume.
“The boon,” Aliath replied steadily.
The Dark Shadow crouched, ready to pounce. On the King or me? I looked across the space between us and saw the dark depths of hell in her eyes. Her mouth opened, a roar I couldn’t hear sounded out, sharp teeth, long fangs, everything covered in red.
“You pissed the Dark Shadow off,” I said smiling. I was nowhere near up to full speed. My heart thundered. Sweat coated my skin. My stomach revolted; twisted ribbons and gnarled knots.
But I was damned if I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from the King.
What did I want?
My eyes found Alain’s; he wasn’t so composed now. He took a step toward me. Georgia growled.
“A boon,” she said. “The choice is hers. Hers alone. Not yours, vampire. Do not interfere.”
So, I had to choose now, did I? I sucked in a fortifying breath of air, becoming more and more aware that the King was playing with me. Sure, he’d inadvertently fed off my heartbroken love for my brother. But he wasn't stupid enough to wait for me to recover before paying his debt.
Incapacitated as I was, choosing wisely was taking everything I had. It didn't help that I couldn't remember why I was here.
Don’t ask questions of the Fey, I told myself.
Don’t mess with the Dark Shadow.
Ediz walked into the courtyard. I grinned.
“The boon I ask for is free access to Ljósálfar. I wish to mount a rescue for my betrothed kindred and my brother.”
The Dark Shadow smiled; it was creepy. The King muttered under his breath. Alain lowered his gaze and stared at the ground resolutely.
And Ediz, a Prince of Mhachkay’s Erbörü familiar, bowed low with his fisted hand over his chest.
12
Never Again!
“A Vampire, a Noferatin, a Nothus, a Shifter, and a Fairy walk into Ljósálfar,” Georgia said. “Sounds like the start of a very complicated joke.”
The Dark Shadow had retreated; thankfully. But we’d gained a Hyrða escort at the insistence of the King of Dökkálfa. Our rescue party was expanding, but considering where we were going, I couldn’t really complain.
Ljósálfar had closed its borders to Dökkálfa, which meant crossing over into Light Fey land was going to require subterfuge and a whole lot of power. Fairy wards were not to be taken lightly.
We stood on a hill overlooking a vast swathe of blue tinged land. The grass swayed in a pattern that mesmerised. Orange rocks glowed as if lit from within. A swollen moon covered half the horizon. Nothing indicated we couldn’t walk down onto that grassland without incident, but the Hyrða, Goran he was called, had lifted his gauntlet covered hand, making a fist; the universal - or was that multi-dimensional? - signal to stop.
We crouched down and watched for any movement, but all that swayed was tall bluish grass.
“I sense magic here,” Ediz growled.
“There’s magic everywhere,” Alain helpfully replied.
“It scratches at my skin,” the shifter complained.
“Probably because you need a flea bath,” Alain offered.
Ediz merely hissed, his wild eyes surveying the landscape before us.
“Where’s the border?” I asked.
“One hundred paces that way,” Goran murmured, pointing directly in front of us. Nothing marked the border into Ljósálfar, except an increase in magic.
“How do we do this?” I pressed.
“We send the Hyrða across first and see what happens,” Georgia muttered.
Goran’s turn to hiss at my friend, his razor sharp teeth flashing in the Nothus’ direction. “Your immunity does not stretch to Light Fey lands, creature,” he growled.
Georgia smiled, then leant a little closer. The Hyrða shifted back. Well, that explained the pecking order there, then. Goran was all bluster. Georgia held the power. Hers or Aliath’s, it was hard to say. But we didn’t need the two of them bickering where we were going.
“We all stick together,” I announced, reaching for my Kilij. The familiar weight of the curved sword settled my nerves. I would have liked my Svante, but having something of Hakan’s in my hand seemed to do the trick nicely. I didn’t read too much into it. The fact I was here as much for the Mhachkay as my brother had already made me feel all kinds of discombobulated.
I might have accepted that no one but Hakan Bahar would suffice for a kindred, but that didn’t mean I understood it.
Alain shifted at my back as if he could read my unwelcome thoughts. Maybe he could; Alain Dupont had become much more powerful than my father had imagined.
Think how powerful he would be if we joined.
“They’re Light Fey,” I said, ignoring Alain’s heavy gaze piercing the skin between my shoulder blades. “Maybe the key to entry is the use of Light.”
“The Ljósálfar,” Goran offered, “are arrogant enough to assume no one but one of their own could call on Light sufficient to pass.”
Georgia snorted in amusement; probably at the arrogant Hyrða calling his Light brethren arrogant too. Irony was always her downfall.
“We have no way of knowing if your Light will not trigger a warning,” Alain said from behind me. “Perhaps your Light is different from theirs.”
“It’s certainly different from mine,” Georgia added. I flicked an unamused look at my friend; she shrugged. “If you want to get technical about it,” she said, “your Light is a 50,000-watt bulb, while mine’s something akin to 15.”
“That’s technical?” Ediz asked.
“I was dumbing it down for you,” Georgia replied, smiling.
“The power may be irrelevant,” Goran offered, ignoring Ediz’s hiss. “The Enchanted’s Light may be a trigger on its own.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Since Luc and I matured, our enchanted blood - which was linked inexorably with our Light - had been calling to the Ljósálfar. They might be on the lookout for it specifically, especially since we suspected they held my brother.
I could only assume they didn’t know what Hakan meant to me yet. And, in all honesty, he shouldn’t have meant as much so soon as he did. But despite whatever kindred feeling I had for the Mhachkay, he had gone after my brother the minute he’d sensed his departure from Earth. He’d rushed headlong into danger to save Luc.
He’d been doing that right from the beginning, I realised. His appearance in Auckland might have been because he sensed me, sensed my light and kan büyülü, but he'd also tried to help my brother. Of course, being a vampire, he’d used the opportunity to trap me into leaving with him.
But I was choosing for the time being to overlook that salient fact.
My acquiesce would soon pass, though, I was certain.
“Then we use mine,” Georgia said resolutely.
“15-watts wouldn’t swat a Fīfrildi let alone lower a Fey ward,” Ediz snarled.
Goran rounded on him, chainmail rattling, wicked sharp blade appearing under the shifter’s chin. “Threaten a Fīfrildi again. I dare you.”
“This is the most fun I’ve had in months, El,” Georgia said with a toothy grin. And then she stood up and started walking.
“Hey!” the Hyrða whisper-hissed, but we were all soon following; Ediz’s and Goran’s standoff abandoned for more dire adventures.
“Can you do this?” I asked as I came abreast of Georgia.
She pffted me, waving her hand in the air as if she crossed magically protected Fey borders every day. Who knew, maybe she did. Georgia spent a hell of a lot of time in Faerie.
The power of the ward increased the closer we came to it until it felt like we were pushing against an invisible wall. Chiming in my head let me know the Fey were active
ly powering it. Maybe a member of Ljósálfar hid nearby. I lifted my hand to my face, as if wind battered it, shielding my eyes, feeling a stinging sensation along the raised sleeve of my jacket. My hair whipped around my head, the roaring sound of a tornado silenced all other sounds, my feet dragged through the blue grass as if too heavy to lift.
We’d made it ten paces.
Georgia began to brighten as if wreathed in a white light. I felt the call to her Light, my own wanting to respond to it. I kept it sheathed but gripped my sword tightly. How useful metal against magic would be was up for debate. But I clung to the Kilij for all I was worth.
Ten more paces. My back was bowed, my knees shook. My feet slid through diamond-like dirt. If I couldn’t have seen the leather of my jacket sleeve for myself, I would have thought the garment had been sandblasted off. My skin tingled. My head buzzed. The ribbons inside my stomach curled. Little lumps of knotted fabric, too tangled up to unravel. I missed their guiding words. For now, they hid, as much as I tried to hide my enchanted blood. I was battened down like a ship in a storm.
Georgia stumbled. The Dark Shadow roared. Ten more paces, which seemed to take three hours of shuffling inch by excruciating inch through the fairy dust dirt.
I wondered how long we’d been in Álfheimr. And then I wondered how much time had passed on Earth. Faerie exists at its own speed. Time here was independent to that which passes on Earth. Had Luc and I been gone beyond four weeks since our twenty-fifth birthdays? Would return to Earth’s realm now mean we’d failed to join in time? And would we die as soon as we appeared back home?
I had no answers. Faerie had rules of its own.
Which was why I did it. Why I called on my light when Georgia fell to the ground writhing.
Which was probably why, when we all crossed into Ljósálfar using my enchanted blood’s Light, we all appeared at different places to each other. I could feel Alain and Georgia, the Nosferatin in me being able to sense their Dark. I had no idea if the Hyrða had made it, but my ribbons whispered we all had. Ediz had disappeared, too, but I could hear his roar and hiss from afar.
No chiming sounded out.
No flash of Fey Light to announce we’d trespassed.
We’d made it. But when I spotted my Svante sword sitting on the plinth inside a well lit cave-like structure before me, I knew I was in trouble.
And when my Sigillum started to burn, and all the colours of a rainbow rose up through my jacket and hovered above my left arm, I knew where I had returned to. I’d been here not so long ago in fact; Hakan had saved me from a fate worse than death.
So had Alain, by drawing away and then capturing the Fey who had fed off me at the time.
I lifted the Kilij, spun around in a tight circle, curved sword blade raised and ready.
Never again! I reached for my Light without thinking, wanting only to send out a concentrated blast to scare off any impending attack. But the cave was warded. Was still warded, even though the fairy who had initially held me here was dead. Which mean it had been powered by another.
Which also meant, I was cut off from my Light until I could get far enough away from the ward.
Last time I’d had Hakan to help me. Drunk on the ward’s power, wanting nothing more than to return to the cave, I’d stumbled and fallen, only getting free of its clutches because Hakan had carried me.
Now I was on my own. Not restrained. But alone.
And from the looks of my rapidly disappearing Sigillum, whoever worked with that original fairy would soon know I had returned.
I had to leave.
Dizziness consumed me. And then I was falling to the rough-hewn floor as the world around me began to darken.
13
Even Her Tears Are Enchanted
I woke up shivering. Still on the ground, and still not restrained. Sweat beaded my brow, nausea swirled in my belly. I rolled over, registering the Kilij still in my grasp, and rose to all fours, panting. My hair hung limply around my face, saliva pooled in my mouth. I spat it out, sure vomit would follow, but the ribbons unfurled and urged me onward.
I stumbled to my feet, the Kilij clattering against the stone plinth. My eyes landed on my Svante sword. I sheathed the Kilij, taking too long to get it inside its scabbard. And then with shaking hands I lifted the Svante up, feeling something settle inside my heart.
My mother and father had given me this sword. It was similar to Mama's dancing dragon one, but although it did not have the image of my Papa's vampire-within on its hilt, it did carry the Durand coat of arms.
My fingers flexed around the hilt, the heraldic shield searing into my palm. I am a Durand. I never stop fighting. I never give up.
I staggered toward the wall of the cave and used my free hand to hold myself upright. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, at any time the draw on my Sigillum could start again. I brushed the jacket sleeve up so I could peer at my mark. Black and white stared back at me. No colours. No regeneration. I had some time before the Fey ward in here would start to feed off my power again, then. I had to use it.
Every step I took, I wanted to return. Every inch I made from the plinth I’d been confined on that first time I’d been here, I wanted to fall to my knees and crawl back to it. I had to stop to empty the contents of my stomach. Twice. The ribbons whispering inside my mind to hurry. My body shook so much I dropped the sword. It took me three attempts to pick it up again afterwards.
Light bloomed at the end of the tunnel, the opening to fresh Álfheimr air beckoned. I shuffled forward, trying to listen for threats, only able to hear the beat of my faltering heart.
Leaving the shelter of the cave was the hardest. My body trembled so hard that I ended up seizing in the dirt. I gritted my teeth, tried my damnedest not to call on my Light, and waited for the sensation to pass.
Sunlight glinted off the Svante’s blade. The moon had long set. Time had definitely passed. I rolled onto my knees, unable to lift the leaden sword up, just pressed it into the ground, and used the Svante like a crutch.
Two more feet from the cave. Three. Four. Five. A stumble. A whimper. A hysterical laugh. If Luc was being held somewhere like this, how hard was it going to be for me to reach him? I’d be on the ground, out cold or simply writhing from the pain of losing my Sigillum’s colours. I’d be useless.
I suddenly realised how naive I’d been coming here. But what other choice had I had?
I tried to call on the rage that thought evoked but felt nothing. The black and white markings on my arm were empty of emotions. Making me just as empty throughout.
A sound in the distance made me turn my head, but the sun beat down from that direction. I couldn’t see, and I didn't have the energy to raise my arm to shield my eyes. So I shuffled on. One step, lift and move the Svante, press it into the ground, drag my foot closer. Another step and I’d repeat the exhausting motion all over again.
I saw them coming before I realised what it was I was seeing. My vision blurring, my mind playing tricks. I thought I saw green skin. I was sure there were fur covered arms and serrated teeth. There might have been a shadow. Fang-like teeth glinted. A sword caught the light of the moon. Chainmail rattled.
They’d found me. It didn’t occur to me that my companions had been split up when they arrived in Ljósálfar. I just assumed I’d been in that cave a while and the others had managed to locate one another.
When their images wavered as they entered the cave’s ward, I realised my mistake. But by then it was too late to run, and I was depleted of all energy. My Sigillum had started to burn again. Ribbons of colour twisted before my eyes. My stomach was silent, although nausea swirled.
The glamour they’d worn sloughed off as if they’d been doused in acid. The fangs disappeared. The fur retracted. Green skin became crystalline diamonds. Serrated teeth were replaced with pearly whites. Gold hair swirled around haughty features. A sword tip was pressed beneath my chin as cold green eyes stared me down.
“A waste of energy,” a fairy beh
ind the sword wielder announced. “She is too depleted already to run.”
“She is the Enchanted,” the sword wielder declared. “Our kind have underestimated this one’s bloodline before.”
“She is nothing,” the first fairy spat. “Cut off from her Light she is a mere mortal. Not warranting our use of glamour.”
The sword tip pressed in further, breaking skin and drawing blood. Both fairies stilled, inhaled deeply, and then they were on their knees in the dirt, stroking their hands down my arms. My body revolted, but I couldn’t raise the Svante I still held, couldn’t draw a stake to strike back, was still inside the cave’s ward and cut off from all Light.
“Smell that,” the sword wielder murmured. “So rich. So powerful. Terrin will feast tonight.”
“Why should he get all of this power?” the other said dreamily. “He is already powerful enough.”
“You would deny the rightful heir his due?”
“I only suggest we deserve recognition. Is it not our family who have caught the prize?”
“A prize fit for a prince.”
“But you, Kaleth, are royalty too.”
The sword wielder smiled, liking that thought. His eyes flashed a vibrant green so beautiful that I leant closer, desperate to bask in his sun. The sword slid along my throat, cutting deep.
“Be careful!” the first fairy shouted.
Words in Fey spilt forth out of Kaleth’s mouth. And then the sword was gone, and his arms were around me, and the smell of blood tainted the air. A silk cloth appeared in his hand, and he brought it toward my neck, only to pause with the cloth in mid-air.
“Taste her,” the other fairy urged. “One lick should be enough.”
“And if it isn’t?” Kaleth asked.
“Then our time has arrived, and you will possess the power needed to overthrow Terrin.”
“Such vile sedition,” Kaleth murmured, but his tone of voice belied the meaning of his words. His face lowered toward my throat, his nostrils flaring. “They say she can trap a fairy,” he whispered, hot breath washing over blood dampened skin. “They say the enchantment can consume a weaker member of the Fey.”
Blood Entwined (Blood Enchanted, Book 2): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series Page 7