Love Me to Death (Underveil)

by Marissa Clarke

  The elf came even closer to her, way inside her personal space bubble and tilted her head. She was so bright it hurt to look at her. Then, she rubbed her tiny, glowing fingers over the hilt of Elena’s sword. “My brother made this. My people make beautiful things. We do not destroy. I am not toxic.”

  “Her people are murdering butchers,” the wood elf yelled.

  “Shut up, bark boy, or I’m going to use you for kindling,” Elena shouted back.

  The vampire chuckled.

  The fact that he could be so cool and amused when he was scheduled to be the main event a barbeque soon made no sense at all. She stormed out of the light elf’s cell and stood outside the vampire’s bars.

  “Let me out of here! My people are harmless,” the wood elf shouted.

  Harmless? She’d seen his people behead an unsuspecting old man. Elena shot a bolt of energy at him, knocking him completely unconscious. Then she turned back to the vampire in the end cell. “Okay, Mr. Badass. What’s your story?”

  His voice was infuriatingly nonchalant. “I’ve been alive thousands of years. I don’t think you have time to hear my story. Besides, Fydor just discovered the lovely Lady Aleksandra is missing.”

  “That’s bullshit. Vampires can’t read Slayers.”

  He leaned forward. “Where did you learn that?”

  She rubbed her burning palm on the front of her pants. “From a friend.”

  “Ah, the vampire you drank from. Did he taste good?”

  Ricardo’s blood had tasted metallic and powerful, not…good. Not like Nik’s.

  “Ah. It was Ricardo. Good choice. Not as good as me, though.” He winked—a particularly unnerving act with those red eyes. “And you are correct; I can’t hear Fydor, but I can hear the bear shifter who is with him.”

  She had to get these guys free and out of here before she was discovered. She had to protect Nik and their baby.

  “Oh dear,” the vampire said, in a lazy drawl. “Someone has a secret.”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Leverage is time sensitive. Your little secret is safe with me…for now,” he whispered so softly she was certain no one else had heard.

  Everything brightened as the light elf moved to stand next to her, and Elena got a good look at the vampire. He was even more attractive than she had originally thought, with thick, auburn hair, strong features, and blood-red eyes. He smiled when her gaze drifted to his mouth, revealing long, sharp fangs. “Like what you see, Dhampir?”

  “Drink from me,” the elf said. “Do it quickly.”

  “What is your take on this, vampire? Is she toxic?” She didn’t hum so he could read her thoughts. What would you advise?

  He arched a brow and tilted his head. “I will only answer direct yes or no questions.” Then he stepped back to his bench and sat, arms over chest, completely silent.

  Aleksi stood on her other side. “He’s smokin’ hot, huh? Makes my mouth water. Too bad he’s a vamp.”

  Elena turned to stare at the immortals lined up in the dungeon hallway.

  “Fydor is searching the west wing for you, lovely Slayer,” the vampire said.

  “Fuck Fydor,” Aleksi growled.

  “No thank you,” he said. “I’d rather kill him.”

  Elena spun to face him. Is the elf lying?

  “No.”

  Will her blood make me stronger?

  “Infinitely.”

  “Unlock his cell but keep him shackled,” Elena ordered the guard. She handed her sword to Aleksandra. “If I die, cut off his head.”

  “No. Don’t trust him. You’re playing Russian Roulette, only you’re holding a gun to the whole world. You die, we all die,” Aleksi said.

  Humming, she looked from Aleksi, to the elf, to the vampire. It all boiled down to instinct. Her instincts told her he was telling the truth. Her death wouldn’t benefit him, since he was scheduled for execution.

  The elf tilted her head, offering her neck and shoulder. “Time is short. Become stronger. Elves’ blood has properties unlike that of any other species. It is my people’s gift for rescuing me.”

  Elena’s heart hammered in her throat as she rested her hands on the elf’s shoulder and placed lips against the delicate flesh of her neck. She sucked in a huge breath through her nose as her fangs elongated, and then she bit down. Sweet, floral tasting blood flooded her mouth, and she swallowed only a tiny bit. It had an aftertaste like jasmine tea, her favorite. Power so great she could hear it in her head roared through her veins like a freight train. She buried her hands in the elf’s hair, tilted her head more, and bit down harder. The elf whimpered, and she forced herself to slow down and then release her. Power rushed through her in a heady mix of adrenaline and light.

  Head reeling, she leaned against the bars of the vampire’s cell, catching her breath. “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  The elf shook her head. She rubbed her fingers over her neck, closing the wound.

  She took the creature’s hand in hers. “Thank you for your gift.”

  “That was very exciting to watch, ladies, but Fydor is leaving the west wing of the fortress. The bear shifter with him is in significant distress,” the vampire warned. “You should take your prisoners and go, Dhampir.”

  She shook her head to come out of her blood high and focused on his face. “They are no longer prisoners.” But he was, along with the wood elf. She should free him, but something told her that might be a mistake. He was the most dangerous thing here.

  “Yes, I am.” He smiled and his wicked fangs showed.

  “Let’s go,” Aleksi said, striding to the front of the line of immortals. “We’re going out the back of the great hall to the stables. Stay together until I dismiss you to go report to your people.” She held the sword up. “Any funny business and heads will roll, literally.”

  Elena turned to follow, but couldn’t seem to make her feet move when she reached the stairs. Something felt off. She turned and faced the vampire watching her from the far end of the dungeon, barely visible in the flickering light from the candle on the floor.

  Claude rushed to her side and pulled on her elbow. “We need to hurry before Fydor finds us here.”

  “You’d better run along, Dhampir,” the vampire said casually.

  She couldn’t. Something was wrong. She closed her eyes and focused. Blood in the past had been the catalyst for her visions. Maybe the elf’s blood would work that way. Yes. Behind her eyelids, she saw the elf, wrapped in shiny fabric, pass her a small object. But before she could figure out what, the vision faded. A faint flicker of something else fluttered just out of reach. She took a deep breath of the stale dungeon air and concentrated harder. The image solidified enough to let her see the vampire dressed in clean clothes, all black, holding her in a tender embrace with her head against his chest. Her eyes flew open to find him studying her.

  The guard pulled on her again. “Fydor’ll kill us if he finds us.”

  The vampire had said he was thousands of years old, but he looked no older than thirty as he stretched his long, shackled legs in front of him and smiled. “Make good choices, Elena Arcos.”

  He knew her name and used her father’s words. “Who are you?”

  “The most dangerous force down here. You said so yourself.”

  He was a lot more than that. She closed her eyes again and saw nothing. The seer effect of the elf’s blood had worn off.

  Loud voices came from somewhere above their heads. “Fydor now knows you are in the fortress,” the vampire warned. “The guard you shocked is conscious and telling him what happened… Oops. Now, he’s dead.”

  “I need to know who you are.” Elena pushed.

  “It’s too late.”

  “Do not kill the Arcos female under any circumstances. I want her alive. Are we clear?” Fydor’s voice bellowed from above. “Bring her to me when she is secured.”

  The vampire gave a defeated shrug. “The dungeon is lined in metal mixed with elven ore. You cannot teleport
out of here. I’m afraid you did not make a good choice in remaining behind, Elena Arcos.”

  She pulled the key out from between her breasts and placed it in his hand. “I think I did.” She closed his cell door so it looked like he was locked in and whirled to face the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Nikolai felt like his rib cage had exploded at the last strike from Fydor’s club. “I don’t know,” he said again.

  “If you don’t tell me what Elena Arcos is, and what her powers are, I will find your sister and tear her limb from limb in your presence. That Arcos bitch shocked a guard into unconsciousness, somehow freed all but two of my prisoners, and took another guard hostage. She escaped capture by shocking a bear shifter and two other Slayers to the point they can’t even talk.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She broke prisoners out of my dungeon. Nobody ever escapes my dungeon.” Fydor raised the club again. “Last chance.”

  The guy was all kinds of crazy, and keeping him in the dark about Elena seemed the best tactic. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I could make shit up if you want.” Nikolai’s vision blurred red as some blood trickled into his eye. “You told me she was a vampire, but she was human. She escaped from me, and right as I located her at her home, your goons came in and grabbed me, letting her get away. It’s your fault she’s on the loose, not mine.”

  Fydor circled the room, tapping the club in his hand. Nikolai studied his every move, hoping for a clue as to how to defeat him, which looked pretty fucking remote while chained to a wall. Still, Elena was in the building and Aleksi was alive, or Fydor wouldn’t be using her as a threat. Things could be worse.

  “You don’t need him anymore,” a familiar voice said from outside the room.

  Okay. So, now things couldn’t be worse.

  Nikolai gritted his teeth as the sorcerer Borya entered the room. His black-eyed gaze flitted over Nik dismissively before he turned to his uncle. “He’s useless.”

  “Perhaps, but I enjoy him.”

  The sorcerer took a step closer to Fydor, who flinched visibly. “Enjoy someone less dangerous. Enjoy someone who does not have a legitimate claim to the throne you like so much, King Fydor. Someone who is not tied to the Uniter, who I understand is in this building.”

  “It’s rumor only,” Fydor sputtered.

  Borya held his staff in front of him, and what looked like a lightning bolt shot from the knob on the handle, straight into Fydor’s chest. His face froze in a mask of pain and terror. Borya’s voice was barely intelligible over the crackle of the bolt. “Do not ever lie to me again, Slayer, or you will feel pain like this for the rest of your immortal tenure.”

  Fydor gasped and slumped to the floor in a heap after the bolt sucked back into the staff.

  “Are we clear?” Borya asked.

  Unable to speak, Fydor nodded.

  The sorcerer gave Nikolai another glare before returning his attention to Fydor. “I want you to find the escaped prisoners, and I want them, along with this one, executed for treason tomorrow night. The Uniter will burn on a stake next to him for all to see. Do you understand, King Fydor?”

  Still racked with pain on the floor, he nodded. “Yes, yes. I understand. It will be done.”

  “When I return next,” Borya continued, “I want to see nothing but ash smoldering around burning posts and all the factions bowing down to your terrible power.”

  It was a long time after the sorcerer left before Fydor finally rose to his feet.

  “He’s playing you, Uncle,” Nikolai said. “Murdering a member of each faction will not make them fear you. It will make them hate you.”

  Obviously still in pain from the bolt that knocked him down, he picked up the club from the ground. “Hate and fear are intertwined and powerful.”

  “No. Fear and respect are the most powerful combination.”

  “Ha! Respect. You sound like your father.” Fydor’s hold on the club tightened.

  “Borya wants chaos. He has no intention of letting you rule. You are no more than a puppet. A pawn in his game.”

  Nik braced himself for a blow, but instead, Fydor threw the club at his feet like a child who’d just lost a game of jacks before storming from the cell.

  Thank goodness Claude knew where the stable was because Elena was certain she’d have never found it. The thick, predawn fog made the air seem liquid and the grounds surreal, which reflected her whole situation. It felt like any moment, she’d shake off sleep and wake up from this nightmare.

  An animal shrieked from somewhere in front of them, and they both stopped short from their full-out sprint.

  “The barn’s right ahead. The sound came from there,” Claude whispered between gasps for breath.

  “Owwww!” It sounded more human than animal this time.

  Elena recognized Aleksi’s voice immediately. “Shut up, or I’ll give you something to really scream about.”

  She nodded to Claude, and they crept forward, and then she gently pushed the barn door open enough to peek in.

  Aleksi was kneeling in the hay next to a bony woman whose head twitched side-to-side in swift, jerky movements. The only other creatures in the barn were two boys who looked no older than thirteen or fourteen, sitting on a bench in the corner. Well, sitting wasn’t really the right word. They were both balanced barely on the edge of the seat as if they would leap to their feet at any moment. Both appeared too well-fed and healthy to have been prisoners in the dungeon.

  “This is a terrible idea,” the woman said in a shrill, nasal tone, rising to her feet. “Fydor will surely look in here.”

  “Then shut the fuck up so we can find the plug and get out of here.” Aleksi yanked her back down by the shirt, which tore with a loud ripping sound. The woman hit the ground with a thud.

  Both boys jumped to their feet at the same time. “Someone’s here, Lady Aleksandra!” one said in a breathy tone, pointing at Claude and Elena lurking just outside the door.

  “Yeah. You told us to warn you if we saw or smelled somethin’,” the other added.

  She met Elena’s eyes, nodded, then turned her attention back to the whiny lady next to her. “Lie on your stomach. Based on your racket, it’s in the back of your right thigh.”

  “We did good, huh? Me and Iosif did right, didn’t we, huh?” one boy said while the other ran in a circle. “We told ya like you asked.” Their goofy grins were contagious, and Elena almost found herself smiling at their exuberance.

  “Iosif and Simion. Sit!” Aleksi commanded.

  Both boys dropped to their butts on the floor instantly, still grinning.

  “Dog shifters,” Claude said, opening the door wide enough for her to pass through. “Still pups, but they make good stable boys.”

  “You don’t have X-ray vision or any such cool superpower, do you, E?”

  Elena liked Aleksi’s pet name for her. E beat the hell out of parasite. “Sadly, no.”

  Aleksi ran her palms over the back of the woman’s thigh, and she let out a glass-shattering screech, arms flapping in the hay.

  “Hey, what kind of bird are you, a chicken?” Aleksi rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for this kind of thing. You’re absolutely right. This is not the safest place. Now lie still unless you want to be a roasted hen day after tomorrow at midnight.”

  Elena moved farther into the barn, and Claude closed the door behind them. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m removing a piece of elf ore implanted by one of Fydor’s witches that prevents Underveilers from using magic. In this case, it keeps her from shifting into her alternative form.”

  “Where is the elf?”

  “Ack!” the bird lady squawked.

  “Bingo! Now hold still because it’s gonna hurt like a—”

  “Eeek!” The woman covered her mouth as Aleksi pressed her palm to her leg.

  “Yeah. Ripping that piece of metal back out is probably worse than putting it in there. Hold still.” Aleksi kept her hand over the woman’s leg but
looked up at Elena. “I sent Fee back to her people to get them on our side. An army of enraged fey will scare the crap out of Fydor. You just don’t screw with those guys.” A grin spread across her face. “I take that back. You do screw with those guys. Elves are wicked in bed.”

  Elena was glad she didn’t have Ricardo’s mind-reading abilities at that moment. She was pretty sure she’d know way more about elves than she wanted to know.

  “Owwwwww. Ow.” Blood splotched the back of the bird woman’s pants below Aleksi’s palm. She pulled her hand away from the woman’s body, sat back, and relaxed. “All done. Fly away.”

  The woman jumped to her feet in a startling, inhuman burst and shook her leg. A slender, bloody metal dowel the length of Elena’s thumb and the diameter of a pencil slid out of her pant leg into the hay. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Aleksi waved her off. “Go bring back some bird badasses, okay?”

  Even knowing she was a bird shifter, and being prepared for the transformation, Elena gasped as the woman crumpled and morphed into a hawk of some kind, human skin sloughing off in sheets like the cat pelts had in Aunt Uza’s yard. This sort of thing was just too freaky to take in stride. She’d never get used to it, no matter how long she lived. If she lived. She rubbed her hand over her belly. “We need to get Nik out of there.”

  “It may be best to leave him for now,” Claude said. “Going in and getting caught would be bad. Lord Nikolai would be the first to die if trouble started.”

  “He’s right. We need to buy time to let the factions organize,” Aleksi said. “Besides, Fydor expects you to go back in after him. It would be suicide.”

  This helplessness sucked. “I can’t just leave him there.”

  “You risk everything if you don’t.”

  She really wanted to talk to the vampire from the cell. Something in her believed he’d know what to do. “Who is the vampire in the dungeon?”

  Aleksi patted the hay next to her, and the boys rushed to her side. “I call him Vlad,” she said, “but no one knows his real name. He used to live in the old Poenari castle before he was captured by my uncle.”