Blood Rules (Blood Immortal Book 2)
Page 8
“He wasn’t too weak to possess you at the meeting,” I reminded her.
“You’re right—but a sorcerer’s powers don’t necessarily align with his physical state. I know of many who only became more powerful as the years went on. It’s similar for witches.”
“That’s great news,” I muttered darkly. “When he finds that his delivery men are dead, what then? He might already know, somehow.”
“He might. He knew where to send them, so he must know much more than I gave him credit for.” She covered her face. “I underestimated him. I fooled myself into thinking I could keep her safe.”
“That’s my job now.”
He would come for it. I knew he would. How, I couldn’t say. If the sword was important enough for him to travel all this way and sent two hitmen for it, he’d come on his own when he knew that plan had failed. He couldn’t keep sending people after us. It would take too much time, and we would be on the alert.
I got up and sidestepped the bodies to go to the window. “He’ll come. He might even already be on his way.”
“You think so?”
“Don’t you?” I looked over my shoulder to where she still sat, hands clenched.
She hesitated—she didn’t want to agree—but eventually nodded.
“You can’t keep me locked in here forever!” Monika screamed down the stairs.
I closed my eyes and reminded myself of what was at stake.
“She can come down. It’s better she knows everything.” I looked out into the darkness. “Something tells me we’ll need all the help we can get against a sorcerer like him.”
13
Monika
Two dead men. The sight of their gaping throats turned my stomach, but not as much as the thought of what they were sent there to do to me.
“I wonder if they had any idea what they were walking into,” I murmured, shaking my head. “He could at least have sent somebody with magic. Or with some defenses.”
“Maybe he expected this,” my mother mused, looking out the back window while Konstantin took the front. “He wouldn’t have risked the life of someone like himself. He wanted to see what they would come up against.”
“Well, now he knows, I’m sure,” Konstantin snarled.
I didn’t have to look at him to know his fangs were extended—he sounded different when they were out.
“And he’ll know what’s between you two. Do everything you can to hide it from him,” my mother warned.
I stared at the back of her head. “What did you say?”
“The two of you. He’ll know.” She sighed. “Yet another thing I never considered, what imprinting would do to you when you weren’t aware of it. I’m so sorry. You must believe I had the best intentions.”
“I believe you did,” Konstantin said.
They stood with their backs to each other, still looking out the windows.
“How do you know?” I asked her, as a flush crept over my skin.
My mother. How awkward.
I was a grown woman, but it still made me want to crawl under a rock and hide.
Her response was brisk, businesslike. “I sensed it as soon as I walked in. You’re in love with each other—or lust, at least. Be careful. He’ll exploit that as soon as he can.”
In love?
I watched Konstantin and wished he would do something, anything, to let me know if it was true. Did he love me? Did I love him? One day spent in each other’s arms didn’t have to mean love. I was afraid to believe it, afraid he would deny it and crush my hopes.
He didn’t react.
Neither did I.
“There’s a storm coming up,” she said, changing the subject. “A big one.”
I joined her at the window.
In the distance, out over the water, storm clouds built. Lightning zigzagged between them, sometimes stretching down to meet the water. It was a beautiful sight. Majestic. There was nothing like an electrical storm over the ocean.
But this was different. I felt it in my bones. So did she. We exchanged worried glances. The clouds moved too quickly and were too large, growing in size every second, billowing across the sky. The lightning had a green tinge to it, and the bolts were too large. And too many.
“He’s coming,” I announced.
Konstantin flew to my side. “This is it. He’s not one for playing small, is he? So much for the element of surprise.”
“He destroyed that when he sent those two,” my mother pointed out, nodding in their direction. “He might as well make a big show now, since we’re expecting him.”
“He wants to intimidate us,” I whispered, staring out the window at the ever-growing storm.
The wind howled, whipping the sea into a frenzy. Waves crashed louder and higher than ever before, one on top of the other, towering higher and higher but never quite reaching the little house.
Our magic was just as strong as his. Knowing that filled me with pride, even as my insides quaked in fear.
“I need you to promise me something.” Konstantin took me by my shoulders and turned me to face him. His eyes searched mine. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Don’t try to be a hero. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way. It’s my job to protect you, but I can’t do that if you act foolishly. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“And you won’t take any chances?”
“I’ll do my best not to,” I said, unsure what else I could promise.
He sighed. “I suppose that will have to be enough.” His fingers pressed hard into my shoulders.
There was so much I wanted to say, so much that it bubbled up in my throat and threatened to spill out. But there wasn’t enough time. I did love him.
He was full of secrets and could be a complete mystery to me, yet I loved him. And I would love him no matter what happened, even if the High Council decided we could never be together.
“Should we go out and meet him?” my mother asked, looking over her shoulder at us.
Konstantin nodded, still staring at me. “Yes. I think we should.”
He went to the cupboard, where I had left the sword when we arrived, and took it out of its wrappings. The blade seemed to glow like it was lit from within. He handed it to me, and I could’ve sworn the handle vibrated against my palm.
I looked at my mother, then back at him. “Let’s go, then.”
He led the way, and I followed, with my mother bringing up the rear.
When I felt the force of the wind against my skin and heard the thunder and the crashing of the waves, I suddenly felt outmatched. Severely outmatched. Who were we in the face of power like that? Sword or no sword.
“Where is he?” my mother shouted, looking around. “Come out! We’re waiting for you!”
Konstantin stood with claws and fangs at the ready. Our eyes met for just the briefest moment as lightning streaked through the sky and I caught sight of his deep red irises.
I could only stand there, feet planted on the rocks leading out into the water, sword at my side.
It was small, but heavy. Heavier than it should’ve felt. And magic. How had I not sensed that before? Maybe it was Ivan’s proximity than made the magic easier to sense.
Thunder rumbled, long and deep, and in it, I heard the whisper of a name.
Monika…
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I looked at my mother.
Her eyes were wide, frightened. She held out a hand, and I took it.
“I’m here!” I screamed into the wind. “You know I’m here! You know I have your sword! It’s yours! I don’t want it!”
You took… what is mine…
“I didn’t know! He tricked me!”
Konstantin’s head was practically on a swivel, looking for a threat he couldn’t see.
I tried to catch his eye, but it was impossible when he was so busy waiting to attack.
The stone shook under my feet.
You… must… pay…
“Screw yo
u!” I shrieked, not caring who he was or what he thought about it. “I’m giving it to you! I’m telling you it was a mistake! Let’s end all this damned drama and meet each other face-to-face, Ivan.”
It wasn’t my imagination. The storm calmed a bit. Not entirely, but enough that I could hear myself think even though the water still churned and crashed and lightning still set the sky on fire.
He didn’t know I knew his name, I realized.
The clouds almost directly overhead started swirling, circling, forming themselves into what looked like a whirlpool which slowly stretched down into a funnel cloud.
The three of us struggled to stay on our feet as the wind kicked up even stronger, whipping at us, threatening to pull the sword from my hand.
I tightened my grasp and kept my head high as the cloud touched down, then disappeared.
In its place was a stooped, painfully thin man in a dark suit. His sparse, white hair nearly brushed his knees. His eyes were a pale, watery blue, but they burned into me nonetheless.
“You?” Konstantin snarled. “You’re the one doing all this? An old man?”
Those pale eyes flickered over to where Konstantin stood, ready to fight.
“Appearances can deceive,” the old man hissed.
“Ivan,” I said in the same loud, firm voice I had used before.
He turned to me. “The very same.” He attempted to bow but didn’t get very far down. “You’ll excuse my appearance. I’ve been without my sword for some time, and it’s left me in a bit of a shambles.”
“What does the sword have to do with anything?” I asked, holding it as tightly as ever.
“That’s none of your business.”
And yet, even without his explanation, I thought I understood. Images flashed through my mind like photographs.
A castle, cold and dark, full of souvenirs and antiques. Hundreds of years, all represented in rooms full of artwork and pottery and weaponry, books and jewelry and sculpture. But the sword was most important of all, kept in a bedroom away from everything else.
A man sneaking into the bedroom, climbing through the window, taking the sword and anything else he could get his hands on. Selling it to the peddler, who unloaded it on me.
It was more than a sword. It was Ivan’s way of staying alive.
I had no idea how I knew, but the idea sat in my brain as surely as if it were a long-established fact. The wooden handle was warm, tingling.
“Seeing as how you’re here to take it back—and you’ve already sent assassins to steal it away—I think it’s very much my business. Not to mention the money I spent in purchasing it,” I added.
“You made the purchase under false pretenses.” He wasn’t shouting, but somehow, I could hear him over the storm.
Like his voice was in my head instead of coming from his mouth.
“Through no fault of her own,” my mother stepped in.
His eyes crawled over her. “A High Sorceress,” he sneered.
“You know I am. You possessed me.”
“That I did,” he admitted with what I supposed was a shrug. “I had little choice. I had to make myself known. And you were so open to my influence.”
“Open?” she laughed.
“Indeed. You no longer have your protection, do you?” He looked at Konstantin and smiled, revealing brown and yellow teeth, cracked and broken. “Your Nightwarden was no longer in your service, thus leaving you vulnerable in more ways than just physically.”
When he noted my mother’s surprise, Ivan’s nasty smile widened.
“It seems I know more about you than you about yourself, powerful one.” It sounded very much like the insult Ivan intended it to be.
I opened my mouth to shoot back a remark about how easy it was for us to find who he was when an image flashed through my head and wiped out everything around me. One moment I was standing on a rocky bluff and the next, I was in the middle of a bloody battle.
I looked around, terrified, as men grappled and punched and stabbed and pummeled. There was a castle to my back and archers shot arrows from the highest spot, but the men they fired at had shields which they raised to defend themselves. Crude shields, much like the rest of the weapons. Blood spattered everywhere, droplets flying through the air, mixing with dirt and coating me in sticky warmth.
All I had to defend myself was a small, handmade sword. I didn’t know which way to turn or how to get away, but I needed to. I needed to get out of there and get home, where it was safe.
Why had I ever thought this would be glorious? There was nothing glorious about seeing men sliced open from throat to pelvis, their insides spilling out as they screamed in agony. There was no glory in watching a man choke to death on his own blood. In seeing men trampled to jelly under hooves and boots.
I could hardly breathe for the panic and the smell of death all around me.
I blinked, and it was over. I was back on the rocks, with my mother and Konstantin, and the salty wind whipped my hair back. It could only have lasted a few seconds, but I could still smell the tang of blood.
I looked down. The sword was still in my hand, the sword I had been holding in the vision.
“I know why you want this,” I announced, looking up at Ivan. “I understand now.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “You do?”
“I saw everything,” I said. “Do you sometimes hold it and go back there? To that day?”
“Why would I want to do that?” he sneered, which turned into a laugh. “You truly understand nothing, child. And we’re wasting time. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take what belongs to me.”
One of his arms shot out, and the sword began shaking, fighting to leave my grasp.
I focused all my energy on holding it, suddenly not wanting to give him what he wanted so easily.
He wouldn’t let us go. I knew that. I couldn’t make it simple for him.
There was no choice. I was strong, but he was infinitely stronger. I couldn’t hold on anymore.
The sword flew from my hand and into his outstretched one—when it made contact, the blade glowed brighter than ever.
“Ahh. Old friend,” the sorcerer crooned, the way one lover would croon to another.
Konstantin took advantage of his distraction and used his speed to fly to his side, but Ivan was quicker.
He waved the sword in his direction and sent Konstantin flying back, hitting the stony ground with an audible crack.
“No!” I cried out, lunging toward him—then stopped myself.
My mother’s warning rang in my head. It was too late.
“Ah. I see. You care for that monster, do you?” The sorcerer’s laugh was like nails running down a chalkboard, screeching through my brain, making me grind my teeth.
Not just the sound, but the hatred behind it. He hated us all.
“Take what you came for and get out of here,” my mother commanded, sounding every inch the High Sorceress she was. She held her hands in front of her. “Now, before you regret deciding to stay.”
He regarded her. “I believe you mean that,” he finally murmured, nodding slowly. “Which is why I need to do this.”
Suddenly, my feet left the ground.
So did my mother’s.
We hovered ten feet in the air, arms and legs bound by invisible restraints.
That was when the change began.
14
Monika
I watched, stunned, as light moved from the sword’s blade up to the hilt, then through Ivan’s hand and up his arm until it covered his entire body.
Gone was the white hair, the wrinkled skin, the pale, watery eyes. His body filled out—the arms thickened, and the legs, as he lost his slight stoop and straightened up. His hair turned rich and black, thick, wavy. His deep, blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as his full mouth curved into a smile.
Just like that, he had gone from a withered bag of bones to a young, vital man in the prime of his life.
If I hadn�
�t known better, I would’ve guessed him to be somewhere around thirty years old.
“That’s so much better,” he said, still smiling. “You have no idea how dreadful it is to live in an old body. Old and creaking and tired. Always tired. If I ever reached that condition and had no way out, I would kill myself rather than suffer through it.”
“You could do that now,” Konstantin growled menacingly, on his feet again.
Ivan only laughed. “Now that I’m back in fighting shape? Just as young and energetic as I was over five hundred years ago when I first used this thing?”
He moved the sword through the air, making it swish and sweep. The blade caught the light and made it shimmer so bright, I had to bring my hand up to my eyes to shield them. “No. Life is too good to let it go, my countryman. You ought to know that by now.”
Konstantin snarled. “I don’t know it. I would gladly let go of this prison sentence.”
The sorcerer frowned. “What? And run the risk of meeting up with your family in the afterlife? If you believe in that sort of thing, I mean?”
I turned my head as far as I could to look at Konstantin, and what I saw brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t know so much pain could exist in a living creature.
His face contorted. “You have no business talking about them,” he warned.
“Why not? Because I’m not the one who murdered them?” His smile was sickeningly sweet and completely for show. “Would you like the honor of telling your lady love exactly what brought it on? I’m sure she would enjoy hearing all about it—unless you think her love is fickle, and that she, like any other rational creature, would cast you aside when she finds out how truly vicious and brutal you can be.”
“Konstantin, you don’t owe me anything,” I called out, straining my voice to be heard over the roaring wind and crashing sea.
“Afraid to hear it, are you?” Ivan taunted.