Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2

by Denise Tompkins

  Bahlin stood there watching me care for the man in my arms. Turning on his heel, he let out a screech I recognized as dragonish. Men emerged from the shadows and followed him to the front door. Aiden, however, stood there.

  “Get out. And…take Clay’s body home.” I choked on my tears. “Shift on the way out the window if you have to, but don’t bring him through here. Go.”

  Bahlin wasn’t out of the house before I heard another groan from behind the sofa.

  “Stay still, Hellion,” I whispered. “I’m right here.” I crawled around the corner of the sofa and gasped.

  Darius lay on the floor, his right arm partially severed at the shoulder, a puddle of dark blood under him. He lifted his head, and his brown eyes took on an amethyst edge. “I’ve got to have blood to heal this before sunrise,” he gasped, “and you’re going to need help to gather the people to save Hellion.”

  I looked around for any other volunteers, but I was the only hale person in shouting distance. I could hear groans from the hallway too.

  “Can you stop it from hurting and make it damned fast?” I asked, crawling closer to him and shooting one last look at Hellion, who was still breathing.

  “Oh, yeah. It won’t hurt a bit, flower, so long as you relax and let me in your mind. Can you lie beside me? That’s it,” he said, encouraging me to lay my neck nearly over his mouth. I supported his head and took two deep breaths. I felt the strangest sensation come over me, but instead of riding it, I fought it. His fangs pierced the skin, and I grunted in pain. It burned ferociously, and I had to draw him closer to keep from dropping him altogether. He took several long draws before pulling away. He sliced his finger on his fang and rubbed it over the twin wounds, presumably to heal it.

  I stood up and, woozy, immediately sank back to the floor. I crawled back around the couch only to feel myself lifted. Darius had picked me up with his good arm and moved me toward Hellion.

  Hellion’s eyes were closed and his breathing was too shallow. He’d turned gray in the short minutes since I’d left him.

  “No, no, no,” I chanted, struggling toward him.

  His eyes fluttered open but they couldn’t focus.

  “Help him, please just…don’t let him die, Darius.” Tears clogged my throat and made it hard to breathe.

  Darius came to my side immediately and looked Hellion over. “The only thing I know to do is get a coven member or change him.” He raced down the hall and came back with Conor in his arms. The man had a broken leg but looked otherwise untouched.

  “Hellion,” he gasped, the pain and longing in that one word holding more anguish than that of a mere friend. Conor was in love with the Coven Master. “Put me down beside him. Maddy, do you have a dirk?”

  I nodded. “In our room.”

  Darius raced off and was back before I could have made it to the top of the stairs. He handed me the dirk, still stained with Clay’s blood.

  I remembered what Hellion had once said to me, “It’s an arcane piece of magic…”

  “Heal him, and I’ll grant you anything you ask of me,” I pleaded.

  “Anything?” Conor asked as he ripped Hellion’s shirt away. Hellion didn’t make a sound.

  “My word of honor. You don’t leave me, Hellion. Do you hear me? You stay. You. Stay.” I held his hand and wondered how I’d gone from foreplay to death in under thirty minutes. Conor started to slice his hand and I shouted, “No!” I held my hand out and he looked at me. “Do it.”

  He cut my palm deep and I grunted in pain, but Darius was suddenly there, supporting my shoulders. Conor placed the blade on Hellion’s stomach and began drawing the runes in my blood. Hellion’s skin was cooling.

  “Hurry,” I ground out.

  Conor got to the last rune and hesitated.

  “Do it—now!” I shouted.

  He finished the last rune and for a moment nothing happened. I began to sob. “Tyr! Odin! Don’t do this to me.”

  Hellion’s body shook once, hard, and Conor scooted back, eyes going wide as the runes sank into the skin of Hellion’s bare stomach. Hellion arched his back and screamed, his fingers scrabbling against the wood floor, looking for purchase. I started to reach out but Darius shoved me roughly aside.

  “He’ll break your hands, Madeleine,” he said. He grabbed Hellion’s hands and pulled them above his head. “Efein!” Another vampire darted into the room, a huge gash still healing across his stomach. “Across his legs, man.”

  Hellion was thrashing about, bellowing in pain. Tears coursed down his temples and I cried with him, knowing how badly it hurt to come back from a date with death. It felt like it went on for ages when, in all likelihood, it was under ninety seconds. Then it was over. He lay there trembling like a flame in a breeze. His eyes opened and sought mine, relaxing only when he found me.

  “No more of that,” I whispered, leaning forward to kiss him softly. His voice was raw, and all he could do was nod weakly. I crawled to Conor and, taking his face between my hands, I kissed him tenderly and briefly on the lips. “Anything.”

  He nodded, never breaking eye contact with me. “Anything.”

  “Darius.” I turned to the vampires still kneeling by Hellion. “Will you and Efein—nice to meet you, by the way, though circumstances couldn’t be much worse—please carry Hellion up to a different room than ours? I need to see to Conor and see who else needs help.”

  Conor pushed himself to sitting and leaned against one of the bookcases, staring at me as the vampires carried Hellion away. “You don’t worry they’ll make a meal of him?” he asked. I must have looked confused because he said, “The vampires. Hellion’s blood. Our blood.” He looked pointedly at my neck.

  I slapped a hand over the puckered, healing skin. “Of course they won’t. Don’t be ridiculous. Darius and his people are allies, and if you’ve not figured that out after tonight, you’re warped. I’m guessing because you accepted my offer so quickly that there’s something in particular you wanted from me. If you’ll let me know now, I can begin working on it as soon as I know Hellion’s well.”

  Conor narrowed his eyes and his gaze cooled radically. “I want you to leave.”

  “Huh?” I asked stupidly.

  “Leave, you stupid bitch. Go away. Immediately.”

  I just stared at him like he was speaking in tongues. It took a minute for my synapses to start firing again. “No.”

  “You said, and I quote, ‘My word of honor’,“ he snarled.

  “Where is this coming from?” I pushed myself up so I towered over the slight man.

  “You’re bad for him,” he said, holding firm. “He’s had nothing but heartache since you showed up. He tried to be a benign observer, helping you by giving you your family tree. Did you figure that out, oh mighty Niteclif?” He laughed once, a short and bitter sound I never would have equated to the quiet man. “No. You’re just a dumbass American with no right to be here beyond an obscure bloodline the prophecies herald as true. You’ve gone back and forth between him and Bahlin, and all you’ve managed is to hurt both of them and set two friends against each other.”

  I wasn’t sure my mouth could fall any farther open. Was this all coming from the fact that he had feelings for Hellion or was there something more there? “I’m not leaving him,” I said. “Anything but that.”

  “Then your honor is worth nothing.”

  And there was the rub. What was my honor worth? Did it have a price tag? “No.” My voice was soft and pleading, a hair’s breadth from begging. Anything but more heartache. But by my pleading he knew he had me.

  “Go now, and I won’t say anything to him. Stay and I’ll tell him I witnessed you and Bahlin together tonight after the fight.”

  Shocked, I reached down and slapped him hard enough to crack his head against the wood of the bookshelf. “You son of a bitch,” I hissed. “I did no such thing.”

  “Then it becomes my word against yours, doesn’t it? He’s known me longer, Niteclif. If I tell him in confidence,
you won’t persuade him otherwise. Lying is the least of what I’m prepared to do to get you to leave.” He licked the split lip, delicately retrieving the trickle of blood with his tongue. He began to push himself up with his one good leg, using the wall for leverage.

  “It’s really irrelevant, Conor,” said a furious voice just behind me, “since you just forfeited your life for hers.” Darius radiated malevolence. He stepped around me and kicked Conor’s broken leg.

  The man screamed and collapsed back to the floor, clutching the knee above the broken shinbone. Fear had his eyes rolling in his head. “Niteclif! Mercy, Niteclif!”

  Darius stepped on Conor’s leg and it snapped the rest of the way, making a sickening sound like dry kindling being broken for a fire.

  My stomach heaved but I held. Flashes of the last few days began to pass by, and the pieces fell into place. Grabbing my dirk off the floor, I squatted down by Conor and said, “There’s no mercy, now or ever, for traitors, man.”

  “I haven’t betrayed you. I swear it.”

  “Lies aren’t becoming,” I said. “I couldn’t figure out how our position kept being compromised. First here, with Aiden, then in London with Bahlin, then here again with Bahlin and the blue weyr. You’re the only person Hellion told where we’d be. You first called Aiden, thinking Bahlin was dead. You were assuming the little brother would take over the Council seat, and you knew Aiden to be easily influenced. You invited him here so he could see if you were telling the truth about me being here with Hellion. When he came and told you Bahlin was alive, you offered to throw your support in with him. Anything to not have to watch Hellion fall in love with someone else.” I went to my knees beside him, Darius at my back. Truthfully, I’d forgotten about the vampire. Not necessarily a good move, but in this case I thought I could be forgiven. “Then you called Bahlin when we returned to London.” His eyes flared and I smiled. “How can I be sure? Because we never told Aiden where we were going. Bahlin came to the house and saw me in Hellion’s room retrieving my jacket. Was it you who sent the letter?”

  Conor said nothing.

  “Tell me, you sorry sack of rat shit.” I slid my dirk under his chin and pierced the skin, a small line of red snaking down his neck and wicking into his shirt collar.

  He cringed, but didn’t break.

  Working to control my breathing, I shoved my free hand through my hair and closed my eyes. “Then you were waiting for us tonight, the coven having sent word ahead of our arrival. We were here a short while when you left the room, and I heard you talking to someone in the hallway. I assumed it was another member of the house, but I was wrong. The moment Hellion expressed his intent to propose, you called the dragons. They got here much too fast not to have known for sure where we were.” I laid my palm over the compound fracture and pressed.

  He grunted in pain.

  “But the kicker was tonight. You opened the door to the vampires and realized Hellion had aligned himself with Darius, so you pointed the weyr right to me and Hellion. You let the weyr have their way with everyone here, and we never had a chance to call for help, you sorry fuck.”

  “I’d do all this and worse to see you kept from him,” he snarled, leaning forward.

  I grabbed his face and roughly kissed his forehead. “Hellion recognized one of his worst fears tonight. May the same fate be delivered upon you.” I made to stand and felt a hand on my elbow helping me up. I looked over my shoulder at Darius. I hadn’t realized four members of his voyyah who had come with him had joined us, watching the cowering man with cold expressions. I looked each vampire in the face, finally coming to rest on Darius. I nodded.

  Conor realized what was about to happen and began to scream for Hellion, pausing only long enough to draw a shallow breath before beginning to scream again.

  I never looked back, not even when they began to feed. Justice was served.

  Chapter Twelve

  I trudged up the stairs, one heavy foot at a time, my hand pulling me forward on the banister. It felt like it had been hours since I’d been in the bedroom. I nearly ran into Hellion at the top of the stairs. I was so tired I didn’t see him standing there.

  “Did you kill him?” he asked softly.

  “No, I—”

  He pushed past me and set one bare foot down on the first step very carefully.

  I grabbed his arm. “No. Yes. I didn’t kill him, but I passed judgment. Darius got the job done for me. Had Darius not been here, Hellion, I would have done it.”

  “It was for me to do, Madeleine!” he bellowed and I jumped back, nearly going ass over teakettle down the stairs. He grabbed my arm and swayed as I regained my balance.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just yell at me for doing my job,” I said, eyeing him carefully. “I need to lie down.” I only breathed the last, my voice wavering. It had been an overwhelming evening. I was reeling inside, careening wildly from emotion to emotion inside my head and heart. I had uncovered an ugly part of myself tonight that I didn’t care for. I’d learned that my honor didn’t have a price, but my love might. And I’d learned that violence was an easy solution to embrace when I was pushed into a corner. I needed to hide away from everyone and lick my wounds.

  Hellion grasped my arm hard enough to bruise.

  “Get your hands off me, Hellion. Now.” I wrenched my arm free and shoved him back a step. See? Violence. Easier than rationalizing with someone who didn’t want to hear it. I shouldered my way by him and stomped down the hallway, intent on crashing in any other room than the master bedroom. I’d never, ever go back in there if I didn’t have to. Clay’s blood would always stain that floor for my eyes, no matter how well it was cleaned.

  I opened the first door I came to and found a small smoking room. I walked in and began to shut the door behind me. Hellion’s fist stopped the door before it could latch. “I mean it, Hellion. Give me some space or we’re going to go rounds.”

  “Understood. At least go to the adjoining room and sleep in a real bed.”

  I looked around before it dawned on my cotton-candied brain that there wasn’t a bed in the room. “Fine. Now leave.”

  He bent his head in acknowledgment and went without another word.

  I walked through the adjoining bedroom and went into the bathroom, dropping clothes behind me as I went. I turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the tiled room while I folded down the bedding, removed extra pillows and kicked my clothes into a small pile near the foot of the bed. Naked, I padded back into the bathroom and shut the door, making sure it latched and locked. I’d brought my dirk with me into the shower stall, rust be damned, and I stood under the hot water watching Clay’s blood rinse away from the blade. I knew I’d never forgive myself for the loss of the blue dragon. It wouldn’t matter who said what. Forgiveness was unfathomable.

  I sat on the floor of the shower and propped my forearms on my bent knees, laying the blade next to my hip on the water-warmed floor. Resting my cheek on my arms, I shuddered. I was so tired. The sound of the water softened, and I found myself staring down at, well, myself. It had been a while since I’d seen Tyr but I recognized this separation of physical self and astral self as one of his visits.

  A muscled arm held out a towel, and I realized I was naked. “Aw, damn it,” I sighed, grabbing the towel and covering up. “Can’t you ever choose to visit when I’m wearing clothes?”

  “And what, exactly, does it say about you that I’m always finding you naked?” he bit out.

  I blushed furiously and took a step back to the water, intent on waking up.

  “Hold it right there, Niteclif,” he thundered, and I froze like a small animal in the bracken. “You will tell me what you’ve been doing about these murders. Now.”

  I turned slowly, mouth agape. “Are you blind?” I yelled. “I’ve been falling out thirty-story buildings, getting my heart broken with shocking regularity, electing new Council members, moving through time and space with freakish determination, getting offers of marri
age and abduction, and killing an innocent dragon!” I took two large steps to him and shoved. Following him, I got in his face. “Besides, when did the mundane world become my responsibility?”

  He was so shocked he stumbled back.

  “Tonight is not the night to screw with me, Tyr. You knew about the prophecy and you did nothing. You let me get blindsided, knowing all the while. Well yuk, yuk, wasn’t it a laugh? And where were you when you could have told me Bahlin wasn’t dead? I might have made different decisions,” I yelled, bumping my chest to his.

  This time he held his ground.

  “And where were you when you knew Bahlin was going to be raiding my new home and nearly killing Hellion?” I demanded.

  “‘Yuk, yuk’? You think I found any of this funny?” he snarled, pushing back at me. I stumbled but he persevered. “I demanded Odin tell you both of the prophecy before it got any further out of hand. Where was I when you thought Bahlin was dead? I was standing next to your fucking bed, Madeleine, waiting for you to go to sleep so I might reassure you.” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, and my physical body rocked with the force of it. “But you stayed awake all night mourning the dragon. And tonight? I violated Odin’s directive and pulled Hellion back from death because I thought you’d suffered too much. That’s what I’ve been doing—waiting on you to find time to involve me in your jaunty love life. Meanwhile, another girl has died, guilty only of looking like you and you’ve done nothing, nothing,” he roared.

  I whimpered in my sleep. My astral plane self was righteously pissed, and I opened my mouth to argue with him.

  “Silence,” he bellowed, and beyond the bathroom window a shower of stars fell from the night sky.

  It was at that moment I remembered Tyr was truly the Norse god of war, known for his wisdom, fair play and administration of justice. Sheer folly to forget it, but I had. I snapped my mouth shut and glared at him.