by Kira Nyte
“Actually, Hugh Ellingham, one of the men who helps run Nocturne Falls, came up with something. We thought it worked.”
Oh, damn.
“You thought?”
She took a sharp breath and pushed off him, flashing him a smile that tried to make him forget what she was talking about. It failed.
Failed miserably because he knew now that he had to keep Garrett away from her after he practically led the coven leader right to her.
Draven held onto her hand. “Vivian, the virus was eradicated, wasn’t it?”
The dip of her head said enough. As did the unease in his gut. She was still sick with whatever the doctor put inside her body.
“I swear, if I get my hands on this guy—”
“He’s behind bars. He won’t be coming out.”
Draven scowled. “Got off easy, in my opinion.” He grabbed her other hand and kissed the knuckles of both. “Well, since you’ve confided that we’re meant for each other, I can officially say you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere, so no more hiding and making me ask your brother for help finding you. So, what do we do to fix this problem?”
Her eyes sparkled, and this time, he smelled the salt in her tears. Her smile quivered.
“I don’t know. They’re working it out. Jackson and Hugh. They’re trying to figure out how to get rid of it for good. Hugh is running some comparative tests while he tweaks the last antidote and Jackson’s keeping track of the virus’s progress through blood work and monitoring. He knows my symptoms, what to look for. Just…bear with me.”
Perhaps that was the suspicion and unease he sensed in the man at the house. Perhaps it was because of Jackson’s dedication toward Vivian and not necessarily male yearning for a beautiful woman.
And here he thought his life was pitiful at times.
The Fates had dropped him dead center into this proverbial hell to save a woman who stole pieces of his heart faster than he could stop her. Not that he wanted to. And he would do whatever it took to make sure she stayed safe.
Draven pressed his forehead to hers. “Vivian, I’ll be your rock. You can lean on me whenever you need to. You can scream and shout and punch and kick in frustration. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her, a chaste, lingering kiss. “Nowhere.”
* * *
The night grew cold as the hours passed. It wasn’t until the car left that Draven suggested they head back to Nocturne Falls. It was nearing midnight. He managed to turn the dismal mood around as they’d talked, and thoroughly loved the sound of her sweet laughter as he shared the rather embarrassing adventures from his first trips into the modern world after a few decades in the dark.
“How do you feel about going to a club? Saturday night, still early, and I hear Insomnia is supposed to be a hit,” Draven said, throwing his leg over the bike and settling onto his seat. He swallowed down the lump that bobbed up into his throat at the vivid memory of seeing Vivian spread, lush and inviting, over the bike’s gas tank. Yeah, she was definitely becoming his addiction. “If you’re not tired.”
Vivian flashed him one of her sexy smiles, the one that struck him dead center through the chest, wrapped hot coils around his unbeating heart and breathed life into his body. He couldn’t get over the ghostly appearance of her skin when the moonlight hit her, or how bright her eyes grew as the night wore on. An alluring magic, a sensual and magnetic power, rolled through her spirit, something he sensed but didn’t understand. He chalked it up to her fae blood, which he had yet to learn the details of.
She veered away from that topic as smoothly as her brother had the other night. He couldn’t begin to fathom why.
She climbed onto the bike behind him, her knees tucked under his thighs. She slipped her arms beneath his jacket, locking her hands against his stomach. He glanced back when she rested her chin on his shoulder and gave him that dazzling smile.
“Are you sure I can trust you in a dark club?”
Aww, geez. Her playful jabs prodded his control. “No more than you can trust me on an overlook.”
“Then Insomnia it is.”
He shifted in the saddle and started the bike. It roared to life as he twisted the throttle and kicked up the stand.
“No helmet?” he asked.
“I’d like to feel the wind on my face and enjoy the thrill of the ride.”
A woman after his own heart, for sure.
“Very well, then, love.”
He spun out the back tire, sending an arc of pebbles and dirt into the air. Vivian laughed, body pressed to his as he sent the bike barreling down the mountain road. Her excitement shone like a bright light inside him and he wanted nothing more than to feed her joy. She rode passenger perfectly, moving with him and the bike around curves and turns. When the road opened up, he pushed the bike to risky speeds. Every few minutes, he stole a glance at Vivian in his mirrors, his own smile reflecting her carefree expression. Her hair blew like a silken cape behind her and when she tipped her head to look up at the sky, his gums ached as bad as his lips to claim her neck.
They reached the two-lane road leading into Nocturne Falls, and he goosed the throttle, switched gears with the toe of his boot, and punched forward.
He had no time to avoid the creature that appeared in the road.
Vivian shrieked.
He jerked the handlebars.
The bike hit an invisible ramp even as the tires squealed and lost traction, launching off the ground and into the air.
Draven cussed aloud, contorting his body to wrap around Vivian’s small frame as she flailed in the air. He used the pegs to launch off the airborne bike, twisting with Vivian burrowed against his chest and encased within his arms.
When he hit the ground, landing on his feet, he caught a split-second flash of his bike hovering upside down far above their heads.
Vivian was ripped out of his embrace.
A force he couldn’t see, but sure as hell felt, slammed into his midsection, sending him flying backward to smack into the unforgiving pavement.
Gray obscured his vision.
When he tried to sit up, his limbs refused to obey his commands. His arms and legs were held stuck to the ground by an unknown force. His fingers moved and he could only lift his head enough to see Vivian fighting the figure’s embrace, reaching a free arm toward him.
“Vivia—” he bellowed, only to have his voice cut off with some kind of stricture around his throat.
The creature removed the hood from its head.
His head.
A head that looked awfully similar to Vivian’s. Ghostly white hair with a strange golden circlet set low on his head. Eyes so light a blue they were almost silver. Those eyes pierced him with a chilling electrical shock that jerked Draven’s muscles.
He looked incorporeal. Draven swore he could see the street through the creature’s fluttering pants and rippling cloak. His hair floated around his shoulders, giving him the appearance of being submerged in transparent liquid.
“Do not fight, child. You are one of us.”
The voice was as hollow and ghostly as the rest of him, and carried on the air all around them. Draven doubted he spoke to anyone but Vivian.
Vivian’s back went stiff, her eyes wide. She spun away from Draven, and he could only imagine the look on her face. Her fight ceased.
Draven tried to call out to her again, but his voice failed. He fought the invisible bindings pinning him to the ground, to no avail.
Suddenly, a whoosh of air shot over him. He swore the ground beneath him rippled. His head bounced off the pavement. The bike, which had been suspended upside down in the air, flipped over and dropped onto its tires before falling with a cringe-worthy thunk-thud-crunch to the ground.
Another strange ripple of air rushed at him.
His bike vanished.
Gone.
Draven’s body tore off the ground and he became airborne again. The sensation of flying weightlessly didn’t last more than a second. Nor did his view of the fo
rest and street and strange astral creature glowing in the moonlight.
He blinked.
His feet hit the ground. He stumbled as he fought off the disorientation from weightlessness.
For a long moment, he stared at his surroundings, beyond confused.
Darkness, except for the faintest shimmer of light from the moon. Oh, the familiar smells of dirt and must mixed in with hints of his cologne assaulted him.
A door opened. Blue eyes widened in the darkness.
“Draven?”
Sophia?
A flash, followed by a loud crash shattered the otherwise solid silence, reverberating through the floor. The sliver of moonlight that escaped the closed curtains glinted off pieces of metal and chrome that had come away from his carelessly deposited motorcycle.
Smack dab in the middle of his bedchamber at Levoire Mansion.
Sweet gods, what the hell just happened?
Chapter Fifteen
“Where did he go?” Vivian yelled.
The fae released his hold on her wrist at last. Vivian took off down the eerily quiet road to where Draven had been only moments ago, the click of her heels on the pavement the only sound in the night. Panic speared through her mind, her body reacting with a fierce rush of urgency.
“What did you do to him?” she demanded.
There was no evidence of Draven on the pavement. Nothing. Not even a residual scent of his cologne or marks from the bike.
Nothing. It was as if he never existed.
The being appeared in front of her. She spun away, desperate to find a clue as to what had happened to Draven. Every direction she twisted or ran, the fae appeared to block her.
“He is not of consequence, child. Cease your search.”
That airy, almost hollow voice chilled her to the marrow. She had to fight down the shudder that threatened to conquer her body.
When she failed in one more attempt to escape, she stamped her booted foot on the ground and faced the creature, anger and fear warring inside her.
“Not of consequence? How do you know such things?” she snapped. A lifetime of facing daily nightmares forged a bit of a backbone, even if she preferred to avoid conflict. But this new strength that unfurled throughout her spirit and seized control was rooted in her violent separation from Draven. “Who are you?”
“We are all.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You are nothing.” She crossed her arms over her chest in a show of defiance when the man’s incorporeal face appeared to harden at her insult. “Why are you here?”
“To bring you and Kalen home.”
Her eyes widened. “Home?” She shook her head. “We are home.”
The fae’s expression rippled and softened, as did the light in his eyes. “No, child. This is not your home. You belong with us.”
Vivian played his logic in her head. Based on the very little she knew of her ancestry and the Celestial fae, she had an inkling these beings didn’t take no for an answer. They were perceived as far more powerful than other breeds of fae. A haughty essence rolled off this man, one that reinforced her suspicion that he believed himself far above anyone not of his breeding.
In his mind, he was superior to all.
He provided her first taste of disgust for her Celestial blood. She never recalled her mother being so…arrogant.
No, every memory of her mother was of a beautiful woman who loved and cared to a fault. It was more a strong impression that remained with her than an actual memory.
“Kalen won’t leave. And neither will I. This is our home. It has been for the entirety of our lives,” Vivian finally said, the sharp edge in her voice faltering. “He has found his soul mate.” She glanced toward the empty space on the street where she had last seen Draven. “And so have I.”
“’Tis nonsense you speak.” He held out an imperious hand. “Come with me. Let me show you home.”
Vivian shook her head. “I’m not leaving here. Not without Kalen. He won’t leave Fawn, and I refuse to leave Draven.” She leveled her gaze on the man. “You chose now to come to us. After all these years in captivity, suffering as experiments. After our mother and father were murdered. Why are you only now making an appearance? Just when we are getting our lives in order, you want to destroy this small gift of peace.”
The man tilted his head in a way that told her he didn’t understand what she spoke of. She took a step back. He didn’t follow, only observed her with that tinge of incomprehension. Did he believe he was so superior that these simple ideas didn’t register?
“Where’s Draven?” she asked. “What did you do to him?”
“He is where he belongs, child. He is not of consequence, and he is certainly not this soul mate you speak of. We choose our mates. Our equals.”
His words confirmed his thought process. He didn’t realize mates were chosen for them, not the other way around. Her own mother embraced that. It was Vivian’s mother who told her about seeing the universe in the eyes of a soul mate.
Kalen couldn’t be certain that their parents were soul mates, but she held little doubt in her heart.
“I believe our definition of equal is far different,” she said. “Bring Draven back to me.”
The man gave a single shake of his head. His presence alone somehow swept calm over her, draining her of the fight.
“No. He is not deserving of a place by your side.”
“Then I want to go back to Kalen.” Together, they’d figure this out, whatever it was that needed figuring out.
The fae touched two fingers to her forehead. A split second later, she rocked on her feet inside Fawn’s small cottage.
Kalen burst out of the bedroom, his expression fierce and his body tense, dressed in only a pair of night pants, hair mussed. She sheepishly looked way. Gods, she hated interrupting her brother’s time with Fawn. And Fawn’s delay in arriving in the hallway assured Vivian she’d interrupted something pretty sweet.
The fae lifted his hand toward Fawn.
Kalen immediately placed himself between his soul mate and the unknown fae. “Who are you?” His sharp gaze cut to Vivian before returning to their latest threat. “Vivian, are you okay?”
“No. He did something to Draven. Made him disappear,” Vivian said without hesitation, giving the fae a wide berth as she hurried to Kalen’s side. She found strength in her brother’s nearness, but her body also acted as another shield to protect Fawn. “He won’t tell me who he is.”
“Celestial fae,” Kalen said, stating the obvious. “If I’m to guess, High Guard. One of the royals. What house are you from?”
For the first time, the fae appeared to acknowledge another royal. He gave a small bow of his head. “House of N’Agra. The crown of Xyna has awoken after silence for many decades. I would like to inquire about Mauryn.”
“I was under the impression the Celestial fae were all-knowing.”
The man gave them a thin smile. His hazy appearance became more corporeal before Vivian’s eyes. The unfelt breeze that seemed to touch him alone ceased, his hair settling in a glowing white fall around his shoulders. His clothing became detailed, from the stitching and style to the vibrant colors of gold and ivory.
“Of the universe, but not to those of our equal.”
“Then how do you know of us?” Vivian asked. She felt Kalen’s quick side glance.
“You’ve been tainted by something not of our fae blood.”
Tainted.
Mr. House of N’Agra spoke the word sympathetically, if that were even possible for a being of his lofty breeding. Vivian found it interesting that he might understand sympathy, but not feel a bond as strong as that between soul mates.
“Um, excuse me.” Fawn pushed her way between Vivian and Kalen and cleared her throat. Vivian grabbed her wrist and gave a small shake of her head. Fawn patted her hand. “It’s okay.” To the fae, she said, “Can you bring Draven back? He’s been handling another issue surrounding Kalen and Vivian.”
“The vampires
?” the man asked with a scowl.
“Apparently, from our father’s side of the family,” Kalen said.
Vivian understood why Kalen gave the being who thought everyone several classes below his standing this information. For one, Vivian was curious to see how this man would react to hearing of their mixed—wait, tainted—blood. Second, maybe their tainted blood would make him leave in disgust.
She was beginning to despise this side of her family, if he was somehow related to them. Especially when his lips curled down in a scowl. She could only hope her father’s family was more inviting.
Kalen gave Fawn’s arm a firm tug, forcing her back behind the wall of their bodies. Vivian heard the elf’s put-out huff and managed a small grin.
If there was one thing she and Kalen had over Fawn, it was experience dealing with unreasonable monsters. This one was no exception.
“Mauryn would never lower herself to mate with a parasite,” N’Agra groused.
Kalen scowled back, this time showing with two extended fangs the evidence that apparently their mother had so lowered herself, at least in the eyes of her Celestial kin. “She never lowered herself. She loved, and received our father’s love in return. He protected her, sacrificed himself for her, when her own people abandoned her.”
“She had been lost—”
“Not to the all-knowing. She had her crown. You could’ve traced her, right? You could have found her, but you turned your backs on her when she needed your help. Ignored the children she bore.”
Vivian stepped forward quickly, her leg blocking Kalen’s when he took a step toward the fae.
“Vivi…”
“Wait.” Vivian moved up to the man and watched him closely. Stared him straight in the eyes and somehow read what he was hiding deep inside. “How are you related to us? And what is your name?”
The name he gave was in another language, their native Celestial tongue. It was a sound more than a word, a lilt of his tongue and fluid song of his vocal cords. He did not possess a name that translated into a language for others to understand. She recognized the ancient tune as it called to her spirit.
“Cerryan,” he added. “For name’s sake. Such as Mauryn.” He produced another song of sound, and she realized he was sharing their mother’s name in that same ancient tongue. “Our language cannot be defined beyond our realm. There is no translation.”