Mistwalker

by Fraser, Naomi

  “I…I don’t want to leave her.” Simone lifted her chin. “I don’t think I should. Tammy’s been through enough.”

  Alec’s blue gaze softened and he smiled. “I swear on my honour that no harm will come to your friend.” He crossed the room. “As long as we follow my mother’s orders, Tammy will heal. As a mistwalker, you cannot become run down. You will need a good sleep after tonight, and when you’re strong, it means she will be strong. Tomorrow night her fever may be down, and you can help me procure more immortals to donate.”

  Simone breathed in slowly. “Okay. If you think so.” She nodded and looked up at Juliun. “If the castle is better for us all, I’ll go.”

  “Excellent,” Juliun said, the smile reaching his eyes.

  She stared into the light grey of his gaze, once again lost in the power of his allure. He made her think of long, hot kisses, endless nights, barely restrained power, and her heart thudded with an exciting intensity.

  They materialised at the foot of a wide set of mahogany stairs. She grimaced, thinking of the effort to climb them. Oh, the mist was a wonderful thing at times, but before she could use it, Juliun caught her hand, swung an arm beneath her knees and pulled her close to his chest.

  She slowly breathed in the achingly familiar scent of his musky skin and rich blood. “So tired.”

  “Hang on, love.” His breath wafted over her hair..

  To her surprise, he didn’t use the mist, and she rubbed her cheek against his chest, nestling into his warm, hard shoulder and closed her eyes. The fragrant scent of roses teased her nose, and the faint stirring of classical music wafted down the stairs.

  “My mother,” he said. “She plays father’s records sometimes.”

  Simone smiled, feeling something give way beneath her and softness pillowed her head and back.

  “You are in the Rose room,” he whispered.

  The bed dipped beside her, and gentle hands removed the plastic coat and unzipped her boots. The cool, thick softness of the quilt covered her. “Sleep well, Simone. Do not fear, you are safe here.”

  She snuggled into the blanket and reached out a hand to him. The sensation of his fingers tightening around hers made her want to ask him to stay—if only for a little while. It boggled her mind how much her opinion of him was changing.

  “Thank you for everything.” Her eyelids were so heavy she couldn’t open them. “Thank you.”

  A harsh breath echoed in the room. “I would do anything for you, my love.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Simone woke at the smooth roll of metal and gentle click of locks. She groaned and buried her face into the soft pillow. A cool, light breeze shocked her bare feet poking out from beneath the covers, and she lifted her head, licking her dry lips.

  She supposed it was bad manners for a guest to sleep in, but then how did everyday manners fit in when her hosts were vampire royalty?

  After stretching sore muscles, she turned over. She still wore her vampire hunting gear, although her feet were bare. Did using the mist drain her reserves of energy more than usual? She’d used the ability countless times last night.

  The metal doors that shielded the room from sunlight were open, and a tangy night breeze floated through the stone archway. The scent of the sea energised her. She lay for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, thinking over her predicament. She’d been half asleep when Juliun carried her up to the room. Why hadn’t he used the mist to teleport them?

  A thrill raced down her spine at the recollection of his firm arms and rock solid chest against her face. The fabric of his shirt, the scent of it. He’d felt so safe. The thought terrified her. He was slowly climbing into her heart in a way she couldn’t define. She doubted there could be a future for them—no matter what she was feeling or because she controlled the mist. How could it be possible? He was a vampire prince.

  And she didn’t know if she could handle it—would want to cope with all that being with him would entail—a constant fight for survival which seemed to be the price for being a part of his life.

  If he’d asked her last night to lure tourists back to Ravenkeep to save Tammy’s life, Simone could not say that she wouldn’t have done it. When he’d proposed to her at The Python, it had been so off the cuff that she knew he couldn’t love her. He barely knew her. But now…everything was changing.

  She took a deep breath, and Witch’s advice overtook her thoughts. Decide with your heart. Remember your past.

  It was hard to forget.

  Being cut adrift as a child in a cruel world led to her training in cruelty, forming an impenetrable barrier deep inside she was sure no one could ever break. But there it was. A chink.

  She climbed out from the blanket, remade the bed and finger combed her hair. Her clothes weren’t the best from sleeping in them, but they’d have to do. A fiery burn spread over her thighs, and she erupted into mist, appearing in front of a dark wall. Subdued, tasteful lighting illuminated the stone fireplace in the kitchen to her left, and her stomach grumbled in protest at the scent of blood.

  Lissanne trudged, no other word for it, with one hand gripping her head, the usual blonde chignon a mass of disordered curls down her back. “Morning, Simone,” she groaned and entered the kitchen with careful steps, her burgundy silk dressing gown rippling out behind her.

  Juliun sat at the top of a large breakfast table, dressed in casual black slacks and a grey wool sweater which perfectly matched his eyes. Simone’s heart beat so loud she was afraid he must hear it. A sudden wave of longing overwhelmed her, and like some kind of weak-kneed fan girl, she imagined for a moment that he truly belonged with her.

  Reality was a bitch.

  Crazy fantasies meshed with lifelong doubts and loss. The barrier inside her reinforced itself one more time.

  Lissanne bee-lined for the fridge and pulled out a blood donor bag. “Not going to work, Juliun? Where’s the blood with painkillers?”

  His gaze pinned Simone standing statue-still at the doorway. He rose from the table and wound his way toward her. “Not tonight. I must see to our new patient in the clinic. Good morning, Simone.” His words were soft and dark. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

  It wasn’t right that he looked so damn sexy and dynamic after waking. He smelled of soap, toothpaste and expensive aftershave. The hair above his ears appeared damp; his eyes alight with gentle laughter.

  She’d just tumbled out of bed and ran her fingers through her hair. She must look like hell. “Good morning.”

  “How did you enjoy your first night here?”

  She smiled. It had been her first night, hadn’t it? For a moment she’d forgotten the warnings she’d told herself in the bedroom. She rubbed at her forehead, trying to wake up and wishing she was able to drink coffee.

  Sexy vampires and blood lust were all too much without a caffeine hit, and she would be this way for nearly an eternity or so the Cel Batrin book had said. “Fine. I’m going to have to get used to functioning without coffee. Brain fog, you know?”

  “Mmm…we have some here if you like?” Lissanne asked.

  Simone shifted her attention to what Lissanne held between her hands. How did a jar of coffee transfer into a blood donor bag? “What do you mean?”

  Lissanne grabbed a couple of glasses, muttering something about caffeine helping her, ‘wake the bloody hell up.’ She warmed up the liquid and placed a heated glass in front of Simone’s hand. “The donors drink plenty of gourmet roasts, and then they donate their blood.”

  A chorus of angels broke into hallelujah. “You’re joking?”

  Lissanne smiled in her carefree, gentle manner. “No. We pay humans handsomely to get bloated on Starbucks. You should get your caffeine hit.”

  Simone rolled the warmed glass in her hands. Ravenkeep was definitely the place to be for breakfast. “Wonderful.”

  Juliun strolled to the table and pulled out the chair next to his. “Forgive me,” he said, silkily. “Sit down and have some breakfast be
fore you see your friend. I have some news to tell you.”

  Simone made her way across the kitchen and sank onto the chair with a sigh. Tendrils of fire pushed at her left arm from his proximity to her, and the warmth spread out in her lower belly. She pushed away her fall of red hair and looked at him.

  He smiled, his eyes soft, arms outstretched over the table where a glass of blood rested on a newspaper showing the current stock prices. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak. He just kept staring at her.

  She tried not to grin.

  “What’s your news, Juliun?” Lissanne asked. “Aha!” She turned over the bag. “This one has codeine in it.”

  He frowned at his mother who sat on a stool at the counter. “Are you all right?” he asked her. “You do not look so well.”

  “Oh.” Lissanne waved a hand in dismissal. “I was up late, drinking the last of the alcoholic blood and playing music. Kristoff brought it all back to me, you know, and I started remembering things about your father.”

  A heavy silence constricted the air. Simone was amazed she’d slept so deeply while the vampires from Tammy’s kidnapping were imprisoned in the dungeons beneath them.

  Juliun nodded. “Grandfather will deal with Kristoff, have no fear. I have news of the annual vampire ball. It is in under a week’s time in Vienna. We are all invited.”

  Lissanne snorted. “Invited? You know they beg you to attend every year.” She groaned and hugged the glass in her hands like it was a lifeline. “Let’s see how I feel tomorrow.”

  Which sounded like a flat ‘no’ from Lissanne. “A vampire ball,” Simone echoed. “In Vienna? I have to stay here with Tammy.”

  “The ball is a summons to the most powerful vampire families. It would be a disservice to you if you did not attend. You are too powerful and dangerous. Remember, you are a mistwalker. The Council would not be happy,” Juliun said.

  Simone set her glass on the table. “Bully for them. Who’s going to protect Tammy? We need someone here if trouble starts. I will not lose her, too.”

  “I have already talked to Witch.” Juliun leaned closer. “She cannot command the mist, but she can place a protection spell over the clinic, and no one will be able to enter. The whole of Ravenkeep is already under a spell.”

  “That’s right.” Lissanne nodded, then rubbed her temples with a soft moan. “She’s the most powerful Magick in the world. The only thing she cannot stop is the mist.”

  “A Magick? What does that mean?” Simone asked.

  “There are immortals born, to either vampires or other species, even humans on rare occasions, who have tremendous control of the natural elements. They begin as sensitives and quickly grow to show their true power. The one known as Witch is the most powerful of them all,” Juliun said.

  “Why do you call her Witch? What’s her real name?”

  “Grace Brightmore,” Lissanne said. “But she lost it around four hundred years ago when the last Witch died, and Grace took the position. If it was a man who was the strongest, he would be called a Wizard.”

  “What about all the other…Magicks? What are they called?”

  “By their names or apprenticeship and year level of training,” Juliun said. “A truly powerful Magick is not always good; there have been some who are evil or uncontrollable. Witch spends a lot of her time moving around communities training those who need help.”

  “And Alec’s her son?”

  Juliun nodded and folded his newspaper. “We are fortunate to have him. When he bit your friend at the hospital, you could not have asked for a stronger-blooded immortal without the mist. His blood would have saved her until she could be rescued.”

  “What about his father?”

  “Claudiu Dimir is a powerful healer who lives in Russia,” Juliun said. “He is originally from Romania. He knows Witch has a responsibility to the other immortals, ensuring no harm befalls the communities. Witch saved him, then trained him before they had Alec.”

  Lissanne poured herself another glass of blood, and Simone’s nostrils flared at the scent, but she didn’t ask for a refill. The thought of Witch’s last words rolled through her mind.

  “I was told something before you faded us out of Devil’s Forest,” Simone said.

  Juliun set down his blood. “Yes?” The word held an import she didn’t try to fathom.

  Doubt choked her chest, but she continued. “Witch told me I would have decisions to make.”

  Lissanne rested her elbows on the counter and laid her head in her hand, the sleepiness gone from her eyes. “Go on.”

  “Well, I was trying to figure out what she meant because she didn’t have time to elaborate. I was hoping you could.”

  “I don’t know. Witch never fully explains things like that,” Lissanne said. “She only ever gives enough information to set you on the path, and you have to find your own way from there.”

  “Helpful,” Simone commented.

  “What exactly did she tell you?” Juliun asked.

  “She said I would have to make decisions. Something about fate. Not to forget the darkness of my past.”

  Lissanne frowned. “That is vague. Have you any clues?”

  Simone frowned, remembering looking into Tammy’s mind. “No.”

  Juliun studied her, his eyes clear and open. His hand swallowed hers, and his touch was electric. She looked down at their hands. His large fingers caressed hers, and the breath shuddered in her lungs. She glanced up at him.

  “We will help you. You are one of us now.” He rose from his seat and strode to the counter. When he came back, he refilled her glass. “Drink your breakfast, and do not worry.”

  She reached for the glass, wondering why she felt so at home.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Juliun reached out for Simone, but grasped empty silk sheets. He frowned, murmuring a protest, the taste of her velvet skin still on his tongue. Nightmares tormented him, and he groaned at the knowledge she wasn’t lying beside him.

  He opened his eyes, and the snow-capped North York moors was the only sight to greet him. He’d overslept.

  He sighed, tucking his hands behind his head and relaxed against the sheets, reliving the touch of Simone in his dreams. He struggled to leave the images behind, fully expecting her to be lying beside him. The images in his mind fitted with reality, no longer dreams.

  They’d made love again after he’d showed her how much they belonged together, kissing her until his heart soared, hearing her moans, and he didn’t need to look down to view the evidence of his arousal. It seemed he’d been that way on a permanent basis since he’d met her.

  The seductive texture of her creamy soft skin made him ache with all that they could have. The dream started as a nightmare; he’d been unable to rescue her from Dravego.

  Juliun closed his eyes, and with the despair still so fresh, he didn’t have far to dig. Somehow, they made it back to Ravenkeep, and he spent the night cherishing her, kissing and stroking her lissom body as she lay naked and eager on his bed.

  In that moment, he felt his years were not a waste, and that the centuries of loneliness no longer cursed him.

  No wonder he hadn’t wanted to wake up.

  He rose, showered and then dressed in black linen trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt. He rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, revealing the royal two-line tattoo which signified his lineage and strength.

  His mother possessed one line signifying her fertility at his birth. His late father and grandfather carried a tri-line with dark slashes and slightly curling ends like sharp blades. Simone had the strength of the mist, and he prayed they would be blessed with children.

  He faded to the elegant dining room where his mother was deep in conversation with Vaughn and Klaus. Grandfather sat at the head of the table, the daily newspaper in front of him. Juliun grinned. Some things never changed.

  “Is Simone down yet?” Juliun asked, striding to the table. He pulled out a chair. “I appeared to have slept in?”

&nb
sp; His mother turned to greet him. “Oh, Juliun. Simone stepped out for a while. She wanted to retrieve the Cel Batrin book from her apartment and read it while sitting with Tammy.”

  Vaughn stepped around Lissanne. “We’re about to make another delivery. We have to visit the bigger hospitals this time. Local stocks are running low.”

  Juliun nodded. “Fine.” They often needed the mist to transport vast quantities of blood to Ravenkeep. Sometimes, they even went to other countries where there was an overstock for the shipment. “I will be ready in five minutes. How long has Simone been gone?”

  His mother frowned; obvious worry blooming in her brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, it has been a while. I thought…well, she seems so capable, but…” Lissanne looked down at her watch and bit her lip. “That was about two hours ago. I’ve been in discussions about the delivery so it may be longer.”

  Juliun rose so fast his chair scraped the floor and almost toppled. It didn’t take that long to pick up a book. “She should have returned.” If Dravego and his men had touched one hair on her body, he was about to transport them all to the hottest desert on earth. “Damn!”

  Radu turned another page of the newspaper and looked up. “Go. I will do the shipment. Ensure your bride is safe.”

  Juliun dematerialised and took form again outside Simone’s apartment door amid the shifting shadows. He wouldn’t break her trust by using the mist to her disadvantage and appear right inside her home. But the fear she could be in danger made him stalk from the darkness and knock on the door with more force than necessary.

  Male voices echoed inside her apartment, smooth and seductive, and then Simone’s voice floated out, holding an unmistakable thread of panic.

  She was in trouble. Juliun kicked open the door and the wood slammed back against the wall.

  Every occupant in the apartment jumped. Their startled expressions would have been comical if Juliun felt like laughing. The door shuddered on its hinges, and all three stared at him with open mouths. The mist trailed behind him, his fingertips and feet disappearing, and the two males sitting on Simone’s sofa no longer had any either. Juliun gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to drop the vampires in the Sahara Desert with the dire warning to keep the hell away from his bride.