Blood Rules (Blood Immortal Book 2)

by Ava Benton

  If I pushed too hard, she would shut down.

  Instead of answering, she sighed heavily. “I wanted to keep you away from things like this. I’ve spent my life dedicated to two things: you, and the coven. That’s it. Your father knew I would never love him the way he needed—and I didn’t even care when he left. I haven’t even thought of him in thirty, forty years, except when you look at me a certain way or say something that reminds me of him. There just wasn’t enough room in my heart for him. It wasn’t his fault. I would feel the same way about any man.”

  “This has to do with my father?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t know what made me think of him just now. Maybe because I can’t stand the thought of losing you, ever. I love you too much. You’re my world.”

  “What does any of this have to do with me?” I asked, glancing at Konstantin for a clue.

  He only frowned, listening hard.

  “I wish you hadn’t gone to Europe,” she whispered. Her chin quivered, but she tried to hold back the tears.

  “What does Europe have to do with it? Mother, you need to try to be clearer. I know you’ve been through a shock—”

  “It has nothing to do with shock,” she snapped.

  That was more like it.

  “What does it have to do with?” I snapped back, at the end of my rope.

  “He showed me what he wants. Whoever he is. He showed it to me, and it was as clear as you are to me right now. I could see it. I could’ve picked it up myself and held it, it was so clear.”

  “What was?” Konstantin asked.

  “Where’s that sword?” she countered.

  “The sword?” I gasped. “He wants the sword? So that’s what it has to do with me.” I felt like she had punched me in the stomach. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that.

  “What’s so special about the sword?” Konstantin asked.

  “What does it matter?” she countered.

  They went back and forth for a while, but I couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in my ears.

  I couldn’t breathe, either. I was going to throw up. My palms went clammy. I felt dizzy.

  “Monika!” Konstantin’s voice was sharp, commanding, and it snapped me out of my daze.

  My mother touched my arm. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded.

  She was comforting me all of a sudden, instead of the other way around.

  Funny how quickly things turned around.

  “Fine. Just… I don’t believe it. I don’t understand it, either.”

  “Where did you say you bought the sword?” Konstantin asked.

  “From a peddler. Or, I thought he was a peddler. He was hocking little relics and touristy things in front of an old church in Belgrade. He waved me over, asked if I was interested in anything. I felt sorry for him—he wore rags, was thin and a little dirty, but he had a bright smile and seemed nice enough.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Typical, stupid American tourist. Roped in by any loser with a nice smile who compliments her.”

  “Did he give you a name? Anything you could identify him with?”

  I shook my head. “I wish. I don’t think I even asked for it. I mean, it didn’t seem important. Do you ask the name of every person who sells you anything?”

  He ignored the question. “Did he say anything—anything at all—about the history of the sword?”

  I concentrated as hard as I could. “I was in the square, looking around, reading from a pamphlet with history and that sort of thing. And he waved me over, and I was looking through his things, and I had just read about the siege…” I closed my eyes. “I’m sure he knew I was reading about it, which was why he told me the sword was from that time. It could be from any time.”

  “That doesn’t matter—and it’s obviously quite old,” he added.

  “Not to mention valuable, if a sorcerer wants to get it back,” my mother fretted.

  “I’m such a fool. I can’t believe I let him rope me in that way, without asking where the sword came from. I should’ve asked. Of course, a valuable sword dating back as far as he claimed wouldn’t be on a peddler’s cart without being stolen from some other place. I was so happy to find it, and I wasn’t thinking clearly…”

  When I looked back, it didn’t make sense. I usually took my time before even the simplest purchase. I once read all fourteen hundred reviews on a blender before ordering it. But I had picked up a sword that was obviously stolen without so much as a question.

  “It’s likely that it wouldn’t matter if you could remember the peddler,” Konstantin muttered. “I doubt he’s alive at this point.”

  “Konstantin,” my mother hissed.

  “He has to be dead, if the sorcerer knew where to look for the sword. We have to be straightforward. We can’t afford to lie to ourselves. He must have found the peddler and… questioned him.”

  So much for being straightforward, I thought with a sinking heart. Even he was trying to spare me.

  “I’m dead. He’s going to find me and kill me, too.”

  “That’s not true!” Mother whispered, squeezing my hands. “Monika, you can’t talk that way. There are ways to protect you.”

  “What, spells? Enchantments?” I laughed bitterly as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “We already discussed how powerful he is, whoever he is. He possessed you. From half a world away, maybe, while the coven was at its strongest.”

  “We weren’t actively trying to keep another presence out,” she insisted. “Had we been, there’s no way he could have gotten through to me.”

  I wanted to believe, but my heart was too heavy. I was too scared.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” I looked at Konstantin. “To you, too. I gave you something that wasn’t my right to give you.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I wish you hadn’t, for your sake.”

  That was the closest thing to tenderness I would ever get from him, I was sure.

  We reached my house first. “Please, come in with me.” The thought of being in there alone scared me half to death.

  “Do you think I would let you spend the night alone?” my mother asked, already halfway out of the car.

  Only Konstantin’s sharp voice made her stop.

  We watched from inside the locked car while he swept the perimeter of the house, then as he went from room to room inside.

  He moved in a blur, like he was in fast-forward while the rest of the world turned at its usual speed.

  Even as I watched in awe of his powers, I wondered at the point. It didn’t matter if the sorcerer was hiding outside my house or not. If he could possess a High Sorceress, he could do anything.

  Still, I felt better to have him with us as we walked inside. My mother sent the car away and told the driver she’d call when she was ready to be picked up. I wondered in the back of my mind how long it would be until she did.

  “I’ll make some tea.” She had to do something to stay busy. I watched her go to the kitchen as I sat on the sofa, legs trembling.

  “Where’s the sword?” I asked. I couldn’t look at him when I did. I had never felt so ashamed.

  He placed the wrapped bundle on the coffee table. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate the gesture.”

  I snorted. “Thanks. I’ll remember that when some stranger is murdering me.”

  “Don’t even say that.” My mother came in holding a tray with hot water and teacups. “Here. Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

  “Nothing will make me feel better—nothing in a teacup,” I muttered.

  I got up rather than let her hang all over me. I couldn’t stand it. Not when I had put her and the coven in danger with my stupidity.

  What would they think when they knew it was my fault?

  “No wonder you didn’t want to say anything to them about what you really saw,” I muttered as I went to the window.

  “Maybe I know something that will make you feel better—at le
ast, a little,” she offered.

  “I highly doubt it.”

  Her voice was barely a whisper. “What if I told you that you have protection?”

  “What, a bodyguard? You’re going to hire a bodyguard?” I tried not to laugh and hurt her feelings.

  “No. A Nightwarden.”

  I spun around, mouth hanging open. “What did you just say?”

  “You have a Nightwarden.” She looked at Konstantin. “You.”

  6

  Konstantin

  “I don’t understand what you mean. A Nightwarden? But… I’m not a High Sorceress…” Monika trailed off, obviously at a total loss.

  She wasn’t alone in that.

  I had never heard anything that surprised me more. I looked from her to Marissa, silently asking the same questions Monika was.

  For her part, Marissa looked shamefaced. “It was the only thing I could think to do.”

  “What did you think you could do?” Monika prompted. Deep color rose up on her cheeks, bright red spots.

  “I had to protect you, of course. Everything was so up in the air. There was no way of telling what would happen, whether Kristoff would come after you someday… or someone else…” Her eyes pleaded with her daughter. “And see? Someone does want to harm you. I did the right thing. My maternal instinct told me what to do, and I did it.”

  “What did you do, though?” Monika nearly shouted. Her hands shook—whether it was from fear or the effort to keep from throwing magic at her mother, I didn’t know. She clasped them together, hard, to make it stop.

  Instead of answering, Marissa looked at me and shrugged slightly. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell you. It would get you into too much trouble.”

  “You did something to get him into trouble?” Monika hissed. It sounded more threatening than when she shouted.

  Marissa nodded. “It was all I could do. I had to find a way to keep you safe. If Kristoff or anyone else had tried to harm me, I could’ve accepted it. But not you. Never you. My sister almost lost both of her daughters—as it is, she has to face the rest of her life without one of them. How could I ever make that sort of sacrifice? I would rather sacrifice myself for your sake.”

  “What did you do, Mother?” Monika’s voice was a weak whisper by then.

  I knew how she felt.

  The truth was closing in on me and dread threatened to choke me. I had a sinking suspicion of what she did, and if I was right, it could mean the end of me.

  Marissa took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. A woman ready for battle. “I used your blood to feed Konstantin.”

  The bomb dropped.

  I was afraid that was what she was going to say.

  My head spun.

  What did it mean for me? What if anybody found out? What would they do to me?

  Monika exploded. “Are you insane? How did you even get my blood?” Then, before Marissa could answer, she said, “You. You’re the reason I felt so tired and weak. You were taking my blood. How did you manage it?”

  “I would put you to sleep.” Marissa looked at me. “I’m sorry. It was the only way to keep her safe. I had to make sure she had a Nightwarden.”

  “But I should’ve known the difference between your blood and hers. I’ve been drinking your blood for decades. There didn’t seem to be a difference.”

  “There wouldn’t be a major difference between her blood and mine. Any difference there was, I took care of with an enchantment.”

  “And you kept it fresh that way, I assume,” Monika finished, shaking her head. “Mother, how could you do this? I understand you were worried, but this is borderline crazy. I’ve never heard anything like it. You stole my blood and gave it to Konstantin.”

  “To help you,” Marissa insisted, wringing her hands. “I did it for you. You must see that.”

  “I don’t have to see anything,” Monika snarled. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so disappointed in all my life.” She turned away, arms folded over her midsection.

  I could feel the torment she was going through—and when I realized that I could, that it was her emotions I was connected to, the truth slammed into me.

  It was all true; Marissa had deceived me.

  I turned to her, and she stood. “I did what I felt was right not only as a mother, but as High Sorceress.”

  “What? Putting yourself in potential danger? Possibly leaving the coven without its High Sorceress?” I asked, shaking my head.

  All the years we had spent together, and she had still managed to surprise me. Not that we had ever been close, but I had at least assumed that I could trust her. I should’ve known better than to assume anything good would ever come from a witch.

  She glowered at me, head held high. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do, Nightwarden,” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a servant. Perhaps I’ve been too easy on you all this time, too kind.”

  “Mother!” Monika turned, mouth hanging open. “This isn’t like you.”

  “I mean every word,” Marissa said, not backing down an inch.

  Not that I expected her to. She was a strong witch with a strong personality.

  I had a strong personality, too. “And you wanted me to believe the problem was with me. Her blood wasn’t enough after all the years I spent drinking yours, not with decades of imprinting between us. But your enchantment didn’t help that, did it? You were clever, but you didn’t think of everything. And yet you wanted me to believe it was my fault.”

  “And you wanted me to believe it, too,” Monika said. She was still looking away from us, holding herself like she needed protection. Or comforting. “You wanted him to go back to The Fold so nobody would ever know what you had done. And you were all right with me thinking I was dying before I went to Europe. I honestly thought I was going to die and the doctors just didn’t know why yet.” She barely choked back a sob.

  “I did the right thing,” Marissa maintained, head high.

  How she did that—not even apologizing for what she put us both through—I couldn’t understand.

  “You did a terrible thing,” Monika whispered, shaking her head. “Terrible. And it might still hurt Konstantin in the end. You don’t know what will happen to him because of this.”

  “Nobody needs to know.”

  “They will if I suddenly stop guarding you and start guarding your daughter,” I reminded her. “What would your Council think about that?”

  “They don’t need to know.”

  But there was something in her tone that led me to believe she felt otherwise. She didn’t sound as sure of herself anymore.

  “Mother, they’ll know.” Monika held her head in her hands as she sank into a chair. “They know everything. It’s their job to know what we do.”

  “Then, they’ll understand.” Marissa went to her, knelt at her side. “They’ll know about Kristoff and how terrible it was. They’ll remember what it was like back then. You don’t know. You weren’t there when he…” She choked back a whimper. “He took my friends. My coven sisters. He brutally murdered them. How was I supposed to sit by and risk him doing that to you?”

  “Don’t tell me I don’t understand because I wasn’t there,” Monika muttered.

  “Even when that’s the case?” Marissa whispered.

  “They won’t take pity on you,” Monika predicted, raising her head to glare at her mother. “And even if they do, they’ll make an example out of him to warn others against pulling the sort of stunt you did.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. And so do you.” Monika looked up at me. “I’m sorry for this.”

  She was. I could feel it. How had I not noticed the shift from Marissa to her? Complacency. Stupidity. Or it could’ve been that Marissa’s spell was just that powerful.

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “We’re wasting time, talking about it,” Marissa decided, standing with her hands on her hips. Imperious once again. “We should be talking about a plan for
you.”

  “Oh, Mother.”

  “I mean it,” she insisted. “I have to put my foot down on this. You need to go into hiding until this is all worked out.”

  “Come on. I took something he says belongs to him. I’ll give it back. It was an honest mistake.” She glanced at me, then back at her mother.

  Neither of us said a word or even moved.

  “Right?” Monika asked, eyes darting back and forth.

  “It’s not as simple as that,” Marissa murmured.

  “I have to agree with her,” I said. “You can’t plead ignorance and expect a sorcerer to forgive and forget.”

  “But it’s the truth! If he found the peddler, he’ll know it was all a mistake. I didn’t purchase the sword knowing it belonged to anybody—especially not to a sorcerer. I had nothing but the best intentions.”

  “That won’t matter. I’ve seen what sorcerers can do when their ire is up.” Marissa wrung her hands. “We’ll have to work out a way to get the sword back to him, but I will not have you walking into this situation thinking it’s something you can reason your way out of.”

  “It would be best for you to follow your mother’s instructions now,” I added.

  Every time I so much as looked at Marissa, my stomach turned. How stupid of me to think she was one of the better witches I had served. There was no such thing as a good witch. That was one thing I should’ve already known, but had forgotten along the way.

  Monika was no better. Stupid witch, buying something like that without asking herself where it came from and why a dirty roadside peddler would have it. Entitled witch, thinking an apology and claims of ignorance would help her. Like we’d have a happy ending if she said it was all a misunderstanding, because she was just that special.

  Her brows knitted together. “I just think—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think!” I exploded, and the two of them huddled together.

  Pride spread through me at the sight of their cowering. It had been too long since I felt like I had a degree of power.

  Forced to feed from vials instead of taking what I needed, forced to stand in the background while stupid, vain, empty-headed women chanted and cast their little spells and made costly mistakes they needed others to fix for them.