“I’m sorry I dozed off,” she mumbled with a yawn.
“It’s alright.”
She looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Where’s Ben?”
“He left with Byron to fetch the car.”
Her cheerful mood faded when she discovered his pale face and dark craters under his eyes. She jumped out of his arms and cupped his cheeks. “You look terrible.”
“Must be because I’m already dead.”
“Don’t joke like that, Lucious.”
“I know. I just need to rest.”
She scrutinised him with an intense stare. “When was the last time you fed?”
“It’s not that. I am merely exhausted from the lack of sleep.”
Byron’s car let out a loud honk, drawing their attention to it. As he tried to head for the vehicle, Lucious groaned and collapsed face first into the soft grass.
“Lucious!” she cried out and flipped him over. Black veins peeked out from under the V of his shirt. She undid the first two buttons and covered her mouth with her hand. The tendrils of the curse had wrapped around his chest.
“What’s wrong with him?” Byron yelled, arriving at her side.
With her eyes bulging out of their sockets, she grasped the werewolf’s shoulders with clammy hands. “We have to find those witches!”
14
BFFs
“How long are you going to sit there?” Byron asked from the doorway to the bedroom.
Helena hadn’t left Lucious’ side since he collapsed in the field. Her thumbs absently massaged his hand as she prayed for him to wake up. Sparing a glance at the window, she found that it was almost evening. Where does the time go?
Byron sauntered to her side and gripped her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s the toughest man I know.”
“You’re right.”
“Good. Now, go get something to eat. I’m sure Sinead can make you a sandwich or two.”
“Any news about the witches?”
He gave her a faint smile. “I’ll tell you when we have something to go on. For now, go and eat. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Without the Circle, how were they going to break the curse? Lucious couldn’t stay like this for long. Yet, going out into the streets of London and searching for them blindly wasn’t an option either. Too many hunters had gathered, eager to kill anything supernatural that moves after yesterday’s attack.
She cast a longing gaze to Lucious’ pale face. The curse had marked his neck and continued its brutal ascend, inking his skin with more ebony veins. With a heavy heart, she shuffled out of the room.
Outside the door, Ben rested his back against the wall. Byron’s borrowed clothes hung loosely on him. He had rolled up the sleeves of the white shirt to his elbows.
“How’s he doing?”
“Same,” she replied.
“I’m sorry about—”
“About what?” she demanded. “About the torture? This war?”
He looked away in shame. “Look, I never planned for things to turn out this way. My foster parents planned the wedding before we went through the Demon Gate.” Ben met her watering gaze. “I know I betrayed you at the gate, but I had no choice. It was the only way to get the clan to let Maya back in. She was marked by a demon. It’s not something they could overlook.”
“And what will they do when they find out you wanted to ruin the wedding?” she asked.
“Skin me alive and feed me to the ghouls,” he replied. “I doubt the clan will listen to me after that catastrophe. I’m better off pretending to be dead.”
“Ben,” she began, getting his attention, “you are a hunter and a son of their leaders. I’m sure they will follow you if you are willing to lead.”
He squeezed out a condescending laugh. “That’s the problem, though. I don’t want to lead. The weight of their expectations, the endless pressure from those around me, even the way they look at me is different. Being here is refreshing. After spending so much time with these…people, I’ve learned a lot. Not all supernatural beings are as evil as Orion claims.”
“Who’s Orion?”
“A god who looks after the hunter clans. He migrates between them every decade or two, instilling faith in the nonbelievers.”
Helena raised a brow. “How do you know he’s not some kind of supernatural being with a grudge?”
“Personally, I’ve never met the guy. My parents, on the other hand, were in awe. They said his presence is incomparable to any monster in this world. The oldest hunter lore mentions him as the creator of the clans. Therefore, everyone reveres him as our God of the Hunt.”
“How touching,” she mumbled.
“Well, enough history lessons. You should get something to eat.”
“What about you?”
He pushed away from the wall. “I guess it’s time to face my demons. I have to return to my clan and try knocking some sense into them.”
“Should I be worried about letting you go? I’m sure Byron has handcuffs somewhere around here…”
With another chuckle, Ben went down on one knee. Is he going to propose? To her relief, he didn’t.
The hunter bowed his head and said, “Vergib mir für meine Verbrechen und für die Schmerzen, die ich verursacht haben. Von jetzt bis zum Ende der Zeit, ich bin dein Freund, Helena.”
“I have no idea what you’ve just said…”
He rose and patted her on the head like a big brother. “That’s fine. I am being a little sentimental. One last thing…” He withdrew his hand. “If you ever need my help, call me. I’ll be sure to return a favour for that inspiring slap in the church.”
Her mouth fell open, and she struggled to form an apology.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he said and took his leave.
Helena’s eyes stung with bottled up emotions. It was nice to see Ben smiling again. He seemed so much younger, happier even. Ever since they first met, he now appeared his age. Maya will be glad to know he overcame his pain.
She prepared to venture into the kitchen when a loud knock on the front door caused her to pause. She checked to see if anyone was around. When no one rushed to get it, Helena unlocked the door to find Cullodena and Una standing there.
The six-year-old’s eyes sparkled with recognition, and she took a cautious step back. “You’re here, too?”
“What do you mean?” Helena asked.
Una managed a tight-lipped smile. “She felt the curse’s presence as we were leaving to return to Scotland. It seems that wherever you go, death follows.”
Helena folded her arms. “Last time I checked, I didn’t sign up for kidnapping by the hunters and witches.”
“What about the person who killed our sisters? Is he still here?” Cullodena asked.
Narrowing her eyes, Helena assessed the little girl. “Why are you here?”
“To vanquish the creature that killed them.”
“You can’t!” Helena said and felt a hand on her shoulder.
From behind her, Sinead emerged with a concerned expression. Her gaze flicked between the two witches and Helena. “Should I call Byron?”
“If you let us eliminate the monster who murdered our sisters in cold blood,” Una began, “we can promise to remove the suppression spell cast on you.”
Helena froze. She had forgotten about it. Madeline had mentioned the spell before they went through the gate. Whatever Reaver was suppressing, she didn’t want it roaming around, not when she couldn’t remember exactly what happened during the ritual Nora performed in Vienna.
“Maybe we can have a pleasant chat over a cup of tea,” Sinead suggested.
“We’re not here for—”
Shushing Cullodena, Sinead grabbed the little girl by the hand and tugged her into the house. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll like the tea I make. I’ve got many flavours. My Antoinette loves vanilla!”
Helena caught Una’s arm. Instantly, she felt her fingers stinging with energy, but she ignored her discomfort. “What is the s
pell suppressing?”
“Will you let us do the job we came here to do if I tell you?”
“You’re not laying a hand on him,” she warned.
Surprise registered on Una’s face. “You would stand against us to protect a killer?”
“I would stand against you to protect my rescuer, yeah.”
“Come inside, everyone,” Sinead called from the kitchen. “You’re letting the draft in.”
Helena closed the door behind Una and trailed after her to the kitchen. There, Cullodena sat like a human-sized doll at the table. Next to her, Antoinette sniffed her and blanched.
“You smell like grass!” Antoinette complained.
Cullodena brought the sleeve of her embroidered white dress to her nose. Taking a whiff, her frown deepened. “I don’t smell anything.”
Sinead placed two cups of steaming tea on the table. “Here you go, girls. And, Nettie, be nice to our guests.”
“Yes, Mum,” Antoinette said.
Sinead looked at Una. “Would you like some as well?”
“No thanks,” the witch said, taking a seat next to her niece.
From where Helena stood, she could tell Cullodena was struggling not to laugh at Antoinette’s story about drowning her Barbie in a bathtub before drying her out on the cooker, only to end up melting her in half. The high priestess, even though she tried her best to pretend otherwise, was a child. Helena couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure that was on her small shoulders from the adults in the Circle.
“Why are you after him?” Helena voiced her thoughts.
Cullodena’s attention locked on her. “As a Circle, we must remain strong. Without a decisive high priestess, there is no balance.”
“Can’t you remove the curse instead?” Helena asked. “He only killed them to protect me. I wouldn’t be here without Lucious.”
“He’s a good man. Killing him would be a mistake,” Sinead added.
Una pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not about whether he’s good or bad. It’s about retribution.”
“The fact that your damned curse is eating him alive is retribution enough,” Helena snapped.
A loud cry came from Antoinette who busts into fat tears. She managed to knock over the cup and spilt some of the scalding liquid on her lap.
Sinead rushed to her daughter’s side, and Una was out of her seat in an instant, already wetting the tea towel at the sink. In the flurry of movements, Antoinette winked at Helena. The little girl stopped an argument before it progressed into something worse. Amused by the act, Helena struggled to hide her smile behind an emotionless mask.
Taking this opportunity, Helena motioned for Cullodena to follow her to the living room where they both sat on the brown leather sofa. “I have to be honest with you. I can’t let you kill him. Doing that would end both our lives.” Her fingers curled into fists on her thighs. “Is there nothing you can do to help him?”
Cullodena ran her hands over her skirt, something she remembered Madeline used to do when she was nervous. “I can spare him tonight, but the curse must remain.”
“Is there a way we can remove it without the help of your Circle?”
The little witch thought about her words and pursed her lips. “There is a way, yes.”
“Don’t leave me hanging here…”
“You would need to summon her spirit and plead with the dead to lift the curse,” Cullodena replied.
“So this is where you’ve gone!” Una called from the doorway and rushed to her niece’s side. “I was going to cast a tracking spell if I couldn’t find you!”
“We’re done here.” Cullodena slid off her seat.
“What about taking the life of the killer?”
The child took her aunt’s hand and smiled. “There is no need for that. He will die anyway.”
“I see.”
Cullodena glided to Helena and hugged her. While doing so, she whispered a name into her ear and added, “This may help you when the time is right.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry we have to part like this,” the priestess replied. “But, from now on, I suggest you and your friend stay away from Aberdeen.”
Out of the window, Helena watched them buckling up in their Honda Civic. Byron strode into the living room with a phone in his hand. “Alexander called back.”
“And?” she asked.
“He said someone is willing to help us out.”
Helena grinned and took the phone.
On the other end, Alexander grumbled under his breath and said, “Don’t sound so relieved just yet. The one who offered to help is someone we know very well.”
Her dark brows scrunched together. “Who?”
“Someone who deems you best friends at this point—Reaver.”
That name brought on an involuntary shudder in her. The warlock never did anything out of good will or for free. If he and Nora willingly wished to help with the curse meant they wanted something, but what? “Did he say what he wanted?”
“Does he ever?” Alexander added, “I’m landing in Stansted Airport in ten minutes. I’ll see you and Lucious in an hour to discuss the rest.”
Helena hung up as Lucious stumbled into the room with a groan. Byron grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him stagger to the sofa.
“You should stay in bed,” Byron chided.
“Quit it with the needless worrying.” Lucious glanced at Helena. “I felt the witches’ presence. What happened?”
“Byron is right, you should rest. Alexander will be here soon.”
Lucious scowled at her. “Do not treat me as if I’m a frail human. Where are Ben and Hans?”
Helena swallowed, knowing full well that he wouldn’t approve of her letting Ben walk out that door without a second thought. Thankfully, Byron came to her rescue.
“Hans left to check on the situation at the Council. When I told him about seeing Eliza at St. Mary’s, he couldn’t stop fretting about Vincent. I guess I would, too, if my sire was under the thumb of that nutter.”
“You think Eliza is crazy?” Helena asked.
Byron let out a laugh. “Of course, I do. Why else would she burn down half of London to cook the two of you?”
“I don’t believe she was after us,” Lucious said. “She couldn’t have seen us. Perhaps her plan was to stop the wedding from the get-go.”
“Are you serious?” Helena’s voice heightened with her disbelief. “If she wanted to stop the wedding, she would have brought vampires with her.”
“Your woman has a point,” Byron said, settling on the sofa. “I didn’t see anyone else out there helping us.”
“Whatever the reason, it didn’t feel personal.” Lucious’ eyes narrowed on her. “Where is the hunter?”
“He left a while ago to check on his clan,” she blurted out.
“And you let him go?” he yelled.
Her voice rose to meet his outrage. “What was I supposed to do? Chain him to a radiator?”
“It would be a start!”
“Ah, I forgot. All you do is plan how to torture and hurt others!” She instantly regretted her rash words. Hurt flashed behind his blue-brown eyes as he reclined in his seat, saying nothing.
Byron raised his hands in the air. “Is it safe for me to talk?”
Ignoring him, Helena came over to Lucious, stopping between his knees. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I’ll leave you two alone…” The werewolf sauntered out of the living room.
Suddenly, the lime walls became the confinement she hated as her breathing became the loudest thing in the room. She took the seat next to him and, before she could react, he lifted her onto his lap and buried his face in her neck.
“Do you hate me?” he whispered against her skin and bestowed a kiss on her.
She shivered with pleasure then wrapped her arms around him. “I tried to hate you. I did. But, the more I got to know you, the less I wanted us to be apart.”
His soft lips trailed fev
erish kisses down her neck. “I want to taste you…”
“What?” she asked, taken aback. It had been a long time since he took blood from her. A nagging fear that he never wished to drink from her was always there, at the back of her mind. What changed?
He brushed her hair aside, combing his fingers through it. “You know, I cannot drink from humans. Even though human blood no longer attracts me, yours does. I wish to confirm something for myself. May I?”
She granted him permission, and his lips sealed around her neck. His sharp canines pierced her sensitive flesh. She sucked in a breath when her blood rushed to the puncture marks. Her body sang, warming from within. She could feel him using his power on her. It was like a tender caress that visited every pleasurable area in her body and ignited it with fire.
When his hands slid under her t-shirt, she stifled a threat of a moan that was desperate for a way out. She lost herself in the ensemble of sensations and touches he gifted her with. Her levelled breathing turned ragged. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and his groan vibrated against her neck.
Lucious withdrew. He bit into his thumb and smeared his blood along her wound. “You taste divine.”
She fell from her cloud nine as his energy retreated. Her expression betrayed her disappointment. “Why did you stop?”
“Because you will be unwell otherwise.”
Accepting his answer, she tried to slide off his lap, but he held her in place.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Her cheeks reddened. “Away?”
“Wrong.” In a blink of an eye, he was on top on her. His heavy body pressed her into the cool leather, and she wriggled to try and stay warm. Amidst her movements, he captured her with a kiss. She responded to him by dropping her shields and letting him know how much pleasure she took in his closeness.
“Daddy said that’s how babies are made,” Antoinette’s voice shattered the illusion of privacy.
Lucious climbed off her with a sigh, and Helena struggled to tug her t-shirt down.
“Young lady, has your daft father not taught you how to knock?” Lucious asked.
“When I’m not at home, yes. Daddy also said that this is my castle. I can do whatever I like here.”
Crumbling Control (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 3) Page 20