Savagery & Skills: Books 1-4

by Ciara Graves

  Either she was paranoid, or they really had trust issues when it came to visitors.

  The woman had one leg dangling over the arm of the chair, a silver goblet casually in her hand. Long black hair draped down her back, nearly touching the floor. She was dressed in red tight leather pants and a black corset, stiletto knee-high black boots, and her arms were littered with tattoos. Her cocoa skin was gorgeous to look at, and as she held my gaze, those dark chocolate eyes told me she knew damned well how good she looked. Her lips curled in a grin, and she straightened, handing over the goblet to another vampire.

  “Well now, if this doesn’t just make my day,” she purred, her voice strong and almost musical. “Rudarius’s favored pet gracing my doorstep. Tell me, what does the old bastard want, eh?”

  “I’m not here for him.”

  “So I’ve been told, but I find that very hard to believe, Draven.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  “Lysa. Gareth appointed me as his successor for various reasons that you do not need to know.” She stood, and those heels clicked loudly on the stones as she approached. Her vampire guard moved with her, like a shadow, but she held up her hand, and they backed off. “You truly wish for me to believe you no longer serve him?”

  “It’s the truth. If you want the whole story, I’ll give it, but I’d much rather cut to the chase.”

  She tilted her head curiously. “And what exactly would the chase be?”

  “Rudarius has destroyed the fae kingdoms. His army has grown stronger than any of us anticipated, and he’s recruiting more to his side every day.” My voice carried, and gasps and whispers resounded on all levels of the mountain fortress. “He is currently trapped in Otherworld, but he won’t be forever. We have to find a way to stop him. Those with me are choosing to fight. The surviving fae prince—his name is Marlie—is building an army of fae here in the human realm to join us.”

  Lysa rested her hands on her hips as she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to believe all of this? Any of this?”

  “It’s the truth,” I insisted. “There’s no time. If you don’t wish to believe me or join me then release us and we’ll be on our way.”

  “My lady,” the vampire who appeared to be her main protector protested, “we should kill him.”

  Lysa seemed to be considering it. “You were a fool to come here, Draven. What would drive you to think we would ever believe you after what you’ve turned into?”

  “I’m not that vampire anymore. Not his pet,” I spat angrily.

  Her hands fell to her sides as she slowly approached. Her guard hissed, but she shot him a glare. “Easy, Vince, I’ll be just fine.”

  Vince didn’t seem convinced and stepped closer, all the same, eyeing me threateningly.

  “There is something about you I can’t quite put my finger on,” she mused, circling me as she said it. “I sense violence in you, the need for revenge, for blood… but there is something else, something so much stronger. What is it?”

  Lysa was clearly not only a vampire if she was sensing such things from me. I stayed quiet and let her play her game. Not much else I could do when I was outnumbered. Nor would I risk the lives of those who joined me on this journey. Instead, my thoughts shifted to Seneca and the nightmare. The wound at my neck healed during the run through the night, but I sensed her fangs digging into my skin all the same. Had I lost her? is that what the nightmare meant? Did Rudarius have his hands on her already and I was too late to save her? I’d tear his fortress down, stone by stone, if she was trapped in that dungeon again. I’d turn the place into an inferno before I let him take her from me.

  “My, such hostility,” Lysa was saying and my eyes focused on her again. She was much closer, her hand reaching toward me as if she was going to lay it on my forehead. “And a need to protect someone.”

  “You’re wasting my time,” I snarled, tugging at the chains holding me to the floor. “If you won’t join me then I must go. You don’t understand.”

  “My lady,” Vince said again, moving as if to pull her away from me.

  But Lysa held up her hand sharply, and he stilled, grinding his teeth as he did so. “Very well, then I suppose I need to understand.”

  I wasn’t sure what her plan was, but then she slashed at my shoulder with a dagger I hadn’t even seen her draw. The wound stung, but I was more fascinated when she let my blood drip into her mouth. Vampires could pick up a few things from the blood of those they drained, but it was usually just vague glimpses of events, the ghost of past emotions, never anything definitive. Lysa rolled her head on her shoulders, and her lips parted on a sigh. Apparently, she was different.

  When her eyes opened, they had turned into swirling orbs of fog. She craned her neck, moving as if she was listening to someone calling to her. I’d witnessed enough seers get visions to know this was not that. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, and she curled in on herself with a pained hiss. Vince was at her side a second later, and she squeezed his hand. The fear in his eyes was familiar, and it took about two seconds for me to realize why he was so protective of her. It was the way I looked at Seneca, constantly worried she was going to get herself killed. I stopped hating him so much at that moment and waited for Lysa to return to normal.

  It didn’t take long, then she was shaking, and Vince was the only reason she remained upright.

  “You,” she whispered harshly. “And Seneca.”

  “You saw her?” I asked surprised.

  Lysa nodded, her head still resting against Vince’s chest. “You both have seen such hardships at the hands of that beast. The love you bear for one another, it’s strong. So very strong. You fear for her even now when it’s your life on the line.”

  “She’s in more danger than I am, honestly. But I do fear for her every damned day we’re apart. I fear what Rudarius will do if he manages to get his hands on her again if we can’t stop him.” I looked around the room, meeting eyes with as many vampires as I could. “He is coming, and he will kill all those who don’t stand with him.”

  “You and Seneca. You are the two that will lead us.”

  “What?” Vince stared at me in disbelief. “Him? That’s not right.”

  “It is,” she corrected loudly, able to stand on her own now, though she kept her hand in his as she addressed her coven. “I have seen them stand against the evil that is to come. Gareth told me a long time ago war was brewing, and it would take great power to resist it. To resist him. That power resides in you,” she said as she pointed suddenly at me, “and Seneca.”

  “You are a seer?”

  “I was a witch before I was turned. The goddess granted me insight,” she explained. “Release him and his people. We have much to discuss.”

  One of the guards undid the manacles, and I rubbed my wrists. The cage was opened, and my people let go.

  “That’s an understatement,” I told Lysa as I held out my hand for hers. She took it in a strong grip. “Thanks for not killing me.”

  She laughed lightly. “I won’t lie, it was tempting when Vince told me who showed up on our doorstep.”

  “I can’t stay long. I need to seek out the rest of the covens,” I said.

  She was already shaking her head.

  Undaunted, I continued. “You don’t understand. We need everyone to join together. Your coven and my tiny band here won’t be enough, even with the fae Prince Marlie gathers. Rudarius is too strong, his army too large now.”

  “I have a better idea. Save you some running time. Vince? Send word to the coven leaders that I’m calling an emergency gathering. They all need to proceed here as quickly as they can.”

  Vince bowed and strode away to carry out his orders.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Lysa told me. “He’s overprotective like most male vampires.” She winked as she said it and I shrugged. “You’re such a hopeless lot sometimes, but we love you all the same. Now,” she said, wrapping her arm around mine as she led
me from the main hall and down a wide corridor made of more black stone, “Seneca appears to be quite the intriguing woman. I would like to hear all about her and you. Why she isn’t by your side now?”

  Lights in the form of medieval torches lit our way.

  I wondered where to start. “She tried to kill me the first time we met,” I told Lysa, and she smiled. “Nearly succeeded.”

  “And yet you’re together. Interesting.”

  “As I said it’s a long story.”

  “We have nothing but time while we wait for the coven leaders to join us. Rest while you can, share a bottle of blood with me and mine. Then we can get to planning how to stop this pestering plague called Rudarius.”

  Lysa showed me to a room for the remainder of the day and urged me to get some sleep.

  Vince was behind her, but he’d relaxed throughout the day and no longer looked at me like he was suddenly going to stake me through the heart, just for the hell of it.

  I closed the door and spun around to face the nice accommodations. The room was carved into the mountain. No window, but plenty of furs on the floor, antlers decorating the walls, and a hearth with a fire already going in it. A large four poster bed took up the whole wall, but I wasn’t sure I could sleep.

  I rubbed absently at my back and side. It wasn’t from any wounds I’d received, but Seneca had. She was in pain. I was tempted to find one of the mages hiding either here or in Valesk and make him take me to the realm she was in. Find her and assure she was alive.

  “Just come home to me,” I whispered to the fire. “I can’t fight this war without you.”

  A log in the fire popped sharply, and I jumped, watching the sparks burn until they reached too high and went out. I leaned against the mantle, watching those flames crackle until the logs were nothing more than embers. Only then did I back away and fall into bed, empty without Seneca.

  I should’ve been focusing on meeting the coven leaders, but as I drifted off to sleep, a pair of green eyes filled my vision as red hair blew wildly on the breeze.

  But there was no smile on her lips. They moved as she spoke, but the words were lost to me. Then there was only fire and screaming. Rudarius’s cackle boomed from a high perch atop a stone wall as red lightning crackled around him.

  I bolted upright, reminding myself he was trapped in Otherworld. We still had time.

  We had time.

  Chapter 10

  Seneca

  I awoke with Draven’s name on my lips as my hand grabbed my chest, expecting to feel blood or a wound.

  Macron was passed out on the other side of our makeshift camp in another little alcove we’d happened across. We didn’t chance a fire, and the chill from the fog had settled into my bones as we slept. I half-remembered making it this far before we collapsed, unable to go any further. I sat up all the way, hugging my arms close to try and get warm when a sharp pain had me gasping and lifting my shirt.

  “What the hell?”

  There, looking back at me was an ugly wound, as if someone had tried to stake me through the heart and barely missed. I touched it, hissing at the pain. I was sure it had been a nightmare, but somehow, I was wounded.

  The dream had started out peaceful enough. I’d been with Draven in the garden. The sun was shining. We were talking. Seeing him like that had lifted my spirits, given me a dose of strength to carry on. But then everything changed, and Draven was suddenly seeing me as the villain Rudarius constantly told me I was beneath the mask I wore. He attacked, but I hadn’t wanted to hurt him. I tried to talk sense into him.

  Then he plunged a stake through my chest.

  The wound stung, oozing blood. I pressed a palm to it. That couldn’t have been Draven. I wouldn’t believe it. It had to be a trick of some kind, nothing more. Draven would never turn on me, not like that. Macron stirred and I lowered my shirt, making sure the wound had stopped bleeding so it wouldn’t show through. Not that there wasn’t enough blood on my shirt already as it was. There was a reason I often wore black.

  “Did you rest?” Macron sat up slowly, each move a strain.

  “Enough. You ready to keep moving?” I stood, my wounds aching, but they remained closed.

  Macron wanted to check them all the same, and he cursed. “The poison isn’t gone as I hoped.”

  “How much time do I have, you think?”

  He seemed put off by my blunt question, but there was no point in freaking out about it. We weren’t leaving until we found the forge. “A day, perhaps two. The symptoms may return in a few hours.”

  “Then let’s get a move on, old man.” I hefted his arm over my shoulder

  He muttered under his breath about my old comment, and I smiled.

  I kept him talking most of the time as we stumbled our way back to the cobbled road. The trees pressed in closer around us. Their blackened bark had turned ashen and, in some places, appeared almost brown, as if barely clinging to life. The sky overhead was a dull grey, never changing. No sun, no moon or stars. No real change in the light either. If we were in this place any longer, I might go crazy before the poison had a chance to kill me.

  We walked for a couple hours, maybe longer. There was no real way to tell how much time passed. Macron fell silent after a while, and his weight became heavier until his legs finally gave out and we crashed into the stones. The fall jarred him awake, and he gripped his staff, eyes flickering with what little power he still had.

  “Save your reserves,” I told him after he calmed down. “I can take care of us.”

  “I don’t want you using your powers. Not until you have rings.”

  “Why not? Might be the only thing that saves us. Again.”

  He shook his head. “No, if you try, I’ll knock you out, understand? It’s too dangerous.”

  “What the hell are you going on about?”

  I’d used my power plenty of times, more so since Rudarius showed his face and we’d been battling him. Macron seemed almost terrified at the notion of my using them at all anymore. Here, I was stronger. Here was where I should be able to use them without fear of hurting myself. Especially since we weren’t in Otherworld and I wasn’t using fae rings.

  “Every time you pull on your power without the guidance of the rings, it’s not… it’s not normal,” he finally spat out when I glared at him. “It isn’t all you. It’s the taint of Rudarius showing through. He’s the one guiding your actions then.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “No, it’s not,” he argued harshly. “You must listen to me. You cannot use them, not anymore. The rings will direct your power, force it to be true to who you are. It will prevent it from becoming something else.”

  “Evil,” I corrected quietly. “You are worried I’ll turn.”

  He hung his head, ashamed. “I don’t want to, but after what Draven told me of your fight at the farmhouse, what I’ve seen for myself, yes, I am worried.”

  “You don’t trust me to know when I’m crossing a line?”

  “And how will you know? Are you thinking straight when you’re in that state?”

  I was about to say I was always in control but wasn’t in the mood to lie. Didn’t have the strength for it to be convincing to myself or him. There was no way to even explain how I felt in that state when the power took over. I was there, I knew what was happening around me, but a force stronger than my will guided my hand. And it was all rage and hate. All raw emotion like a beast let loose from its cage. Was that really all from the taint inside me and not really me? Just me?

  One day soon you’ll realize you’re not the hero of this tale, Rudarius’s words came back to me.

  I stilled.

  Draven worried about my turning, so did Macron. Neither of them seemed to trust me anymore. That cut deeper than the stake Draven tried to stab through my heart. I rubbed the wound absently then told Macron we needed to get some sleep while we could.

  “Seneca,” he started, but then I turned my glare on him, and something in my eyes had him
shutting up. He laid on the hard ground, hands folded across his chest, and said nothing else.

  I was exhausted physically, but there was no rest for me, not after our discussion. I held my hand out in front of me once I’d made sure Macron was snoring quietly. Power rose within me so easily here. How could it all be evil as Macron assumed? Shadows grew from my fingers then swirled around my hand like a river flowing in mid-air. I expanded them, and a hiss started inside my mind.

  “Draven.”

  I glanced around, then told myself to stop being stupid. He wasn’t here. I pulled on more power, and his hiss grew louder.

  “Seriously? You don’t get to complain. You tried to stake me through the heart.”

  Right back at you, love.

  I was alone with Macron, but Draven’s voice came through loud and clear. “You deserved it,” I muttered. “You attacked me that night, remember?”

  And you attacked me in my dream. What did you expect me to do?

  My mouth opened to reply, but I choked on the words. What the hell was I doing? Draven was not here, and neither of us had some psychic link to the other. We sensed each other, but that was what all vampires had with their fated significant other. No matter how much Draven pissed me off sometimes, he was mine, and I was his. There was no getting away from that. I could tell when he was upset or in pain, or at least, I had until I came here.

  Now I couldn’t feel anything except my own jumbled whirlwind of emotions and Rudarius breathing down my neck.

  “Rudarius,” I snapped to the empty air. “You sick bastard.”

  His laughter surrounded me. Do you truly believe your beloved Draven could reach you here? Please, he has no power. None worth mentioning. He is nothing.

  “It’s not him you should worry about.”

  Ah yes, I’ve seen your desire to kill me. Do you think you’ll be able to, when the moment arrives?