by Billi Jean
Joey laughed and hugged him. “He’s always grumpy when he has to come to someone’s rescue, but he really does like it. So, what’s our plan? Shall we go find Gideon before he does more of this? Will it suddenly free some trapped spirit and release Isobel from a curse?”
Beside him Isobel stiffened.
Rowan drew back and slowly grinned. “Amazing.”
“What?” Joey studied her mate and slowly smiled. “Cool, so I wasn’t too far off?”
“No, my dear, you were close. Have you been taught anything at all about the Dragon creed?” Rowan asked, taking her hand delicately in his and guiding her to the door.
Jaxon gave Rowan an odd half-smile when the elder checked for permission to speak to his mate. Rowan grinned and moved Joey farther ahead.
“He’s going to fill her head with ideas, isn’t he?” Jaxon sounded as if didn’t like that idea, but Bryson could see the male was proud of his mate.
“Oh, yes, he will have her swearing oaths with you by her side in no time.” Isobel’s casual words left Jaxon standing dumbfounded behind her.
Bryson grinned and smacked Jaxon on the shoulder. “Come on before Rowan convinces Joey to jump before you can check out what into.”
Jaxon grumbled but shot him an assessing frown. “Damn, you owe me for this.”
True. More than Jaxon would ever know.
Isobel turned from her study of the ancient ruins of what had once been the seat of power for Vampires, and nearly ran into Joey. The small redhead’s mate was watching from his position by the rocks, but he seemed to have come to terms with Isobel not being the enemy he’d believed.
“Oh, my God, this is Count Dracula’s castle.”
Jaxon walked over and hugged her, for some reason not correcting her.
“No,” Isobel corrected. “This is not that count’s home. This was the seat of our power. The king reigned here, and in his time, anyone coming upon his home would have done so without fear in their hearts—if they meant our kind no harm.”
Joey widened her large eyes and smiled. “Oh, that is amazing. Much better than how you tell it, Jaxon.”
Jaxon laughed harder and curled Joey into his arms. Joey didn’t seem to mind. Isobel found her pleasing. Even her quick smile and even quicker laugh were pure and unhindered by anything other than the joy she felt. She was the complete opposite of her tall, dark-haired warrior—except when he looked at her. Then, the similarities between them were apparent, or perhaps not the similarities, but the reason for their deep love and commitment. Joey was Jaxon’s other half, the light to his darkness.
“We will need a witch, perhaps more than one.” Rowan stroked his chin then nodded. “Yes, a few witches should do the trick.”
Bryson was in the process of rising from his hunched position and paused to stare at the ancient. “Rowan, just how do you propose we go about doing that?”
“I supposed we would use your phone. Mine is no longer working, if you recall.”
“I recall a lot, but not you mentioning a witch or two would be necessary.”
“Bryson, we cannot enter his home without breaking his spells. We will need a witch to set a wider net, so if he does run, he is caught.” Isobel crouched near the rocks they were hiding behind. “He is under the castle, deep within the darkest levels. But he will sense us entering and it is then he will kill Agatha.”
“What if only one of us were to go? Would he be threatened by one?” Joey asked, sharing a look with Jaxon.
“True, if say, Rowan were to go.” Jaxon unwrapped a piece of gum. “Then, while you distract him, we could enter, as well.”
Rowan watched Jaxon pop his gum in his mouth. “Such a plan might work.”
“It would not work.” Isobel stood and faced her mentor.
Bryson nodded. “He would recognize you, Rowan. He will attack—”
“True.” Rowan threw his shoulders back. “Are you suggesting I cannot defeat him?”
“No, of course they aren’t,” Joey said quickly. “But.” She winced. “Bryson does have a point. He would know you, and he’s disguised as Warren, who, by the way, I never liked.”
Jaxon nodded. “He made her skin crawl.”
Rowan shook his hair from his eyes. “He would not expect me. Nor would he—”
“Not going to happen,” Bryson argued. “That thing in there is dangerous. He was able to share Warren’s body, hide so we couldn’t recognize what he was. I should go. He won’t expect trouble from me.”
Jaxon shook his head. “That thing in there is Rowan’s bro. He has powers we don’t understand. Rowan is the better bet.”
Isobel moved nearer to Bryson. “No, he is not. Bryson is correct.” Isobel didn’t like it. She worried even more when she saw no other angles they could play. “I do not care for this plan either, Jaxon. But Bryson is strong enough to challenge Gideon—if it comes to that. It should not come to that.” She stressed her words, hoping Bryson understood. “If you merely say you are looking for something, and are surprised by him, he might believe you. He trusts you, yes?”
Bryson’s handsome face grew harder, but he nodded ever so slightly.
“You simply need to go in, breaking his barriers just enough,” she stressed.
Bryson glanced over her head to the stronghold barely visible against the dark stone of the mountain. His gaze met hers again and she experienced a sharp pain in her chest. “For you to sneak in, just as you did with my dogs.”
“Yes. Exactly.” Even as she agreed, her stomach tightened to a knot of anxiety.
“The idea has merit.” Rowan took a piece of gum Jaxon offered.
“Enter. When you do, we’ll come storming in.” Jaxon snapped his gum. “It’s simple, but simple plans suck as far as details go.”
“I tend to think the simpler the plan, the less chance of it unraveling.” Rowan seemed to test the flavor of the minty gum because, after a few chews, he smiled.
Isobel sensed, even in the tension of the moment, Bryson found her mentor amusing. He didn’t smile, but there was something in his tough expression that said he, too, experienced fondness for the elder.
“I agree with Bryson and Isobel. This is the better way, but perhaps…” Rowan studied Bryson as if he’d just opened a fascinating book. “You should be wounded. Just enough to make him think you came here for refuge, and found him by accident.”
“I thought he liked simple plans,” Jaxon muttered to Joey. “Bryson being wounded enough to be believed is not going to help him defend himself.”
Isobel’s heart experienced a pain that didn’t go away. “I do not like this plan, Rowan. If he is wounded—”
“I will be believed. I will say you tried to kill me when I attempted to save Christian. He will know I was there, he will assume I went after you. If he believes more, then so much the better.”
This doesn’t feel right. He needs to stay. The urge to beg was hard to stifle.
“It was a good plan, now it is excellent.” Rowan grinned.
Jaxon cursed but sounded happy. “Fuck, it might work, but as soon as you breach the bastard’s walls, we will be there, so be prepared.”
Bryson’s hand was firm and solid when he took hers. She still felt this was wrong. But in Bryson’s eyes she could see he had decided. He allowed us to talk, all the while knowing this is what he wanted—to go alone. He even tricked me into agreeing.
“If this will get us in there, then we will end this, here, tonight,” Bryson said confidently.
A shiver raced up her spine. Does he do this for us? He glanced at the sky and back down at her. His eyes were bright. With hope? She wanted to warn him not to. Hope hurt when ripped away. “It is just now dark. He will rise soon, and when he does—”
“I know. We have no time.” She still hesitated.
Bryson didn’t. He called forth his massive sword. It shimmered brightly under the moonlight. He was so handsome to her in that moment she had to tug at her hair to keep from pleading him not to go.
I never begged for anything. Not since you, Jorge. Not during all the tortures they put me through before walling me up. But for him, I would go to my knees. What does this mean?
“I’ll need to be injured or he will have doubts.” He turned from her to face Jaxon. “You do it. She will not make it look real enough.”
The thud of her heart turned to panicky racing.
Jaxon nodded tightly. A muscle in Bryson’s jaw throbbed. Before she could stop this madness, Jaxon drew his sword. With a two-handed grip he brought it down across Bryson’s body, then crossed the wound to land another along his ribs.
Bryson grunted. The muscle on his jaw jumped, but he didn’t fall. Blood immediately scented the air. His blood. Exquisite. But wrong. Injured. The need to go to him, to ease him, to heal him was astronomically intense.
“Go. Now, while you are still strong,” Jaxon ordered.
She caught his arm before he could. “I will be looking for you,” she managed. She tightened her hand on the firmness of his arm. “I will share my blood so you can heal.”
He didn’t reply but he narrowed his eyes. Then he was gone.
Joey let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t like this plan.”
Neither did Isobel. She opened her path to Bryson and felt him shift directly to the crumbling entrance. It was harder to stand still, knowing he was walking into danger than it had been to leave her brother, knowing he would be taken from her.
Please, please, please, do not take him from me.
Bryson held in the groan as he landed on the grassy hill where once had stood the stable yard to the king’s court. It had been over six centuries since last he’d set foot inside this place he’d once called home.
Blood ran freely from his chest, diagonally across his stomach and on to his hip. Jaxon, the bastard, had hit him true. The last time he’d been here, he’d been bloodied as well. Fresh from battle, he’d learned his king was gone from this world and Aidan was missing.
Back then, he had also suffered the blow of knowing his bonded had been the one to kill their king. Now, he knew better.
Isobel.
Never once had he thought to question whether or not she had killed the king. Not once had he thought to dig into what he’d been told, to find out the truth for himself.
And I lecture on listening, when in fact it wasn’t listening at all, or seeing beyond what I was told.
He knew never again would he trust so explicitly—outside of Isobel. She cared. She did. It was there, in the desperate, fearful brightness of her eyes. She was more than he deserved. I will never let her go. So now, I will kill any who stand in my way.
Two steps inside the broken remains of the building and Bryson sensed the presence of Warren—or the other. He pretended much more weakness than he actually felt and stumbled on the uneven ground to one knee and used his sword to lean on. He breathed shallowly, more because of the wounds than he wanted to admit.
“Bryson, what the hell happened to you, man?”
Warren.
Bryson lifted his head as if startled, and grimaced. “Warren. How did you find this place?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Warren carried the scent of blood and, under it, sex. The kind you couldn’t wash off. The kind that came with taking what wasn’t offered.
“You’ve been wounded. Has there been more trouble?”
Gideon—or Warren—had fooled him once. He wasn’t allowing that again. He forced out a laugh, as if amused by the understatement. He also rose to his feet. Never let an enemy gain your back.
“You could say that. Never try to help a woman when she’s insane.”
Warren stepped from the shadows, grinning. “Ah, women can be tricky. They are always more trouble than they are worth. But what are we to do? We need them. At least once a day.” He laughed and cupped his hand over his groin with a leer. “Best to keep that in mind, and try for nothing more.”
No offer to aid him, no welcome, nothing but a joke. Bryson forced a painful laugh. “True. I seemed to have forgotten that.”
Another coarse laugh was his only response. The man was baiting him.
“How did you find this place? I have not been here in years.” Bryson leaned against the wall then stood as if thinking of something. “This was our ancient home. Have you searched inside?”
“No, I found this place empty, gutted and as you see it.” A hint of suspicion finally tinged his tone. So, is this Gideon? “Why do you ask?”
Bryson groaned and shook his head. “It is nothing. I…thought to come here to try to get my head straight, but now that I see this place…” He paused and studied the ruins. “So many memories but little else. I am certain nothing would remain, least of all anything to aid us against Isobel.”
Silence, then Warren walked closer. “Aid us against her? She’s but one woman. Ah, my, you are wounded, aren’t you?”
“A scratch, nothing more,” Bryson muttered, straightening. His sword was still in his hand, but Warren didn’t back out of range. Bryson sheathed it, not wanting to draw the man’s attention. “This was the seat of the king, and at one time, our world. Such things of wonder once resided within these sacred halls that nothing we have now compares.”
He walked to the stables, touching a wall, then another, feeling the barrier still firmly in place. “This was the stable, that the blacksmith’s, and over there, I believe, there stood a long hall where the king held court. Beyond that was a library hidden in our safest chamber. We once stored books with the knowledge that would foretell her doom.”
“Sounds impressive. Now it’s little more than rubble.” The sneer in Warren’s voice made it clear he thought little of such things.
“Ah, but you don’t understand. If we could but find the Book of Ages, then we could not only defeat Isobel but send out enemies to their deaths, as well.” He forced a laugh. “Permanently.”
“The Book of Ages is a myth.” Is it Gideon I’m speaking to now? Or is it Warren more than Gideon? Warren wouldn’t know of the book. “Such a book does not exist.” Gideon then. The sneer made sense now.
“Ah, but it does.” Bryson steadied himself again on the wall. “I have seen it. If it were here.”
“Why do you think it is here?”
“Because I once hid it away, keeping it safe, when she destroyed our world.” A lie, but then Warren wouldn’t know. And Gideon had been dead, wandering and without body. By the tension in the Vampire’s shoulders, Bryson knew he had him. “I had thought it might be here, but if what you say is true and there is nothing left, then someone had to have found it.”
Warren squinted at him. Bryson held his tongue. It would do no good. Saying more would only make the man—
“What if there was one place, deep below, where spells hold it locked?”
Bryson faked a groan and stifled it as if just hearing him. “Are you…? Warren, this is not something to jest over.”
Warren barked a laugh. “I’m serious!”
“Then show me,” he grated. His chance was now. He held down his excitement.
Warren was still leery.
He waited, willing him to fall for it. “Well?”
“It’s through here. I set up a barrier. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it.”
“Well, if I hadn’t lost half my blood supply on these rocks, I might have.” He kept the grumble in his tone as he limped after Warren.
As soon as he felt the whisper of the spells allowing him entrance, he drew his sword. The ring of metal was loud, but he had never attacked a man’s unguarded back in his life.
Warren spun, eyes narrowed. “Fucking lying bastard!”
He didn’t waste time acknowledging that only part of that was actually accurate. He attacked. They impacted like sledgehammers. Warren tried to grab him by the throat. Bryson threw the Vampire off. Quickly, he followed with a volley of sword strokes. Kill him. The clash of metal rang loud in the night. Where’s Jaxon? Where’s Isobel?
&n
bsp; Blood loss made him slow, but he still managed to dig in a few good slices. Above the clashing of their blades he heard Isobel cry his name. For some reason, her sweet voice rang in his head. To be certain, he turned with his next stroke, forcing Warren back from where he suddenly sensed Isobel. Warren lunged right for her. Bryson caught the Vampire around his waist and pulled his knife, stabbing him deeply. Even as he did, he knew that the shocked gasp wasn’t from Warren—but from Isobel.
Time froze, imparting on him every detail with razor-sharp clarity. The wind had blown a dark wisp of her hair across her face, into her dark eyes and along her ivory cheek. But it wasn’t her face that burned into his brain. It was the sword rammed into her stomach.
Warren shouted something as if from a distance. Jaxon’s muffled curses followed.
All he could understand was that across from him, Isobel collapsed to her knees, holding a hand to her middle as Warren slid his sword free.
He knew, some part of him understood, that nothing would keep her from him again. Not in death or in life. Yet that was as distant as the sound of his labored breath or the fact that his heart beat in time with hers.
In that moment, clarity snapped down. It drilled into him that this woman was his, for all eternity.
The world sped back up. He sprang into action, feeling as if she had shoved every ounce of her strength at him instead of letting it spill from the wound in her stomach. He hit Warren hard from the side at the same time as Rowan attacked him from the front and Jaxon from his other side. He knew, on one level, that Joey was cradling Isobel’s head in her lap and already gave her blood, but it was a distant thing. Inside he felt Isobel holding on, to him, just as firmly as he held on to her.
His blade hit Warren in the side, adding to the first deep cut. He maximized the impact by shoving him into Jaxon. Not willing to lose the moment, he twisted, turning Warren so Rowan slammed into him with his blade.
Suddenly through the night a scream rent the air—and a second later Warren vanished into a hundred bats. Jaxon burst into the same, diving and attacking. Rowan surged into a hawk even as his brother copied him and Jaxon followed suit.