by Ciara Graves
As if they knew I was coming, storm clouds blew in from the south and blocked out the harsh rays of the sun. I stepped out of the fortress as rain once again fell from the sky, washing the blood from my face. I shifted Seneca in my arms so her face was against my shoulder, clutching her as close as I could. I made it a few yards when my legs gave out, and I sank to my knees in the mud.
“Draven!”
I glanced up to see Nathaniel standing before me, Shane at his side. Beyond him, Owen, Macron, and Marlie sprinted toward us. Words wouldn’t form, and all I could do was hold Seneca to me as I shielded her from the rain.
“Dead,” I whispered at some point as Macron tried to pry her from my arms.
“Seneca?” he asked alarmed.
“No, Rudarius. He’s dead.”
Macron nodded then glanced to Seneca’s right arm. “Draven? The rings? Draven?”
My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
I let them take Seneca from my arms then fell backward. Owen, of all people, picked me up and gently carried me over his shoulder.
I smiled at how pissed off this was probably making him, but then my eyes closed, and I let myself slip into unconsciousness.
Chapter 12
Draven
A curse fell from my lips as soon as my eyes opened. The curtains were pulled over the window of a room I knew all too well. My head throbbed, and every inch of my body was in pain. This room, it had been mine during the time I stayed in Rudarius’s fortress. Why was I back here? Had I dreamt it all?
“Good, you’re finally awake,” a deep, growling voice came from the far corner of the room.
“Not a dream,” I muttered to myself as Owen marched over. “You’re here.”
“I’m here. Macron ordered me to keep an eye on you until you woke up. Now you’re awake, and I’m going.” He turned for the door, but I called his name. “What do you want, vampire?”
“Seneca. Where is she?”
His shoulders hunched, but he turned back and rubbed his forehead hard. “Alive.”
“Where is she?”
“You can’t see her yet. She hasn’t awakened yet. Macron’s been with her for the last four days.”
“Days?”
He nodded, his face solemn. “You had the shit beat out of you and whatever you did to her to sever the power messed her up pretty bad. Internally, mentally, her soul. All Macron said…” He swallowed hard and didn’t finish.
“Tell me,” I demanded, making to stand, but he shoved me back. “Tell me, Owen.”
“Her soul was shredded,” he finally snapped. “It wasn’t you, though. Macron wanted you to know that. I mean what you did caused some of the damage, but the rest, it wasn’t you. The power from the rings, when she combined it with Rudarius’s, twisted her around. She fought it and harmed herself in the process.”
This time I shoved against him as hard as I could and stood. “I want to see her.”
“You can’t.”
“I’m not staying in here while she’s fighting for her life,” I snarled. “You can either tell me where she is or move out of the way.” I looked wildly around the stone room. “And why the hell are we in this cursed fortress?”
“It remained after the rift closed. Macron and the other mages have been working to cleanse it of Rudarius’s foul stench.” He growled as he said it. “And it’s the only place large enough to house those who survived the battle. Many were wounded and rebuilding, recovering. It’s going to take time and planning.”
It made sense, but being here made my skin crawl all the same. “Where is Seneca?”
“You are in no condition to go to her now.”
I tried to take a step around him, but my knees shook, and I would’ve fallen on my face if Owen hadn’t caught me and set me forcefully back down.
“You won’t keep me from her,” I warned. “If this is some macho bullshit you’re trying to pull, it won’t work, you hear me? I love her, and I will not be kept from her. Never again.”
He stormed away from me, shoulders tense. “I won’t fight you for Seneca,” he said as he turned back to face me. “She was right about me. About what I tried to do.”
I said nothing, not sure where he was going with this.
“I tried to fix her because I saw something wrong with her. But you… you see who she truly is. I failed her in that regard. As much as I care for her, I can never be what she needs me to be. All I ask is you look out for her. Love her, Draven, and see that she finally finds a way to be happy.”
I stood and this time, found the strength to take the few steps between us. I held out my hand for his, and he took it, to my surprise. “I will, but I have to see her, Owen. Please. Take me to her.”
His grip tightened on mine as he hung his head. “It’s going to be hard for you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Come on, then. Fair warning, if Macron realizes you’re up and moving around already, he’s going to have both our hides.”
With Owen gripping my arm to stop me from falling over, we left the room behind. The going was slow. My wounds were worse than I’d thought. I should’ve healed by now, but with as much dark magic Seneca attacked me with, I figured it would take longer. Owen guided me through a stretch of corridor I remembered all too well. The air was certainly lighter, and we passed several mages busy at work casting cleansing rituals in other rooms and in the center of the hallways. The dark tapestries and paintings that used to hang in these corridors were all gone. Hopefully burned.
“What of the mages,” I asked Owen as we walked, “are they going to rebuild the seven houses?”
“There’s been some talk of it.”
“And the demons?”
He stilled but only for a second. “We’re working with the fae to negotiate land in Otherworld, but many might end up staying here.”
“I see nothing wrong with that plan. And Rudarius’s forces?”
He growled louder, catching the attention of the mages we passed. “Those who surrendered are awaiting their fate in the dungeons below. The rest scattered and we had to let them go. We were in no condition to go after them.”
“Pity.”
“I agree, but our forces took a heavy hit. Many died, many good men and women. It’ll take years to recover from this battle, from the war.”
That was a vast understatement, but I fell silent. The aftermath of Rudarius’s conflict was not going to be easy to fix. There were the dead to deal with, the prisoners to transport, lands to reclaim in Otherworld. I asked him if the veil was functioning properly after Rudarius messing around with creating cracks between realms. He gave me a quick nod in reply. At least now we could go back and forth between Otherworld and this world without worrying there was permanent damage to the magic that allowed us to do so.
We turned down a corridor that led to several large chambers and Owen came to a stop.
“She’s in the room at the very end,” he whispered. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I took a couple of steps forward, but Owen didn’t follow. “You’re not coming?”
“Once was enough. I can’t see her again, not like that.”
I didn’t judge him, not after he paled and looked blankly at the far wall as if he was trying to stop seeing whatever image of Seneca was in his head. I continued on my own, the going slow, and used the wall to hold myself up. When I neared the door, the air became thick with magic. Macron’s voice came from the room as did two others I didn’t recognize. A man and a woman. I opened the door enough to peer inside, and the sight had me falling to my knees in the doorway.
Seneca’s body arched off the bed, her arms and legs tied down. Her head thrashed back and forth as the three mages surrounded her, chanting. The bed had been placed in the center of a rune that glowed on the stone floor. An ethereal version of Seneca’s body hovered over her physical one, but it looked as though some beast had dragged its claws through her from chest to hip. Bits were missing, and
when she thrashed again, I clutched at the door hard enough to crack it then blurred toward her.
Only the rune stopped me, and I was blasted back to the door.
“Draven, what are you doing?” Macron was immediately at my side, hoisting me up.
“Let me go to her,” I demanded, fighting against him, but I was too damned weak to be of use even against an old man. “Let me be with her, please.”
“You can’t, not right now. We’re mending her soul or trying to.”
“And if you can’t?” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “If you can’t save her soul, what then, huh? What’ll happen?” He sighed and looked away from me until I shouted in his face, “Tell me, Macron. What will happen?”
“She might never wake,” he replied sadly. “We are going to do everything we can.”
“This is my fault.” My legs gave out again.
He managed to get me out of the room and closed the door, cutting off my sight of Seneca. I looked away from him and leaned against the wall, muttering those words repeatedly. I bashed my head into the stone wall.
Suddenly Owen was there, crouching in front of me. “Knock it off, you idiot,” he snapped. “She needs you to be strong for her. Can you do that or not?”
“It’s my fault,” I whispered again. “I cut off the power. I destroyed her rings. I did this.”
“I told you, that isn’t from you,” Owen said softer. “She’d been tearing herself apart ever since Rudarius came back into her life. This is not your fault. Stop blaming yourself and be the vampire she needs you to be.”
“How can I when she’s suffering like this, and all I can do is watch?”
“You can do much more than that.” Macron took firm hold of my shoulders and looked intently into my eyes. “She can sense you as you sense her. Your connection is strong. Use it. The more positive feelings you can have, the more you focus on the love you share, the good memories in your mind, they’ll reach her. It might be the only thing that does bring her back to us.”
“Positive vibes, is that what you’re telling me?” I snarled. “She’s lying in there with her soul torn to shreds, and that’s all you can tell me to do? What the hell is wrong with you?” I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “How can I do that? How?” I went on, shaking my head.
“You have to find a way, for her.”
I hung my head and shut my eyes. Now I knew why Owen hadn’t wanted to see her again. It was all I saw now, but I chased that image away, only for it to be replaced with the sight of Seneca after we fought, and when I cut off her hand. That one was chased off by the one of her holding Rudarius’s head as she talked about taking over the world. Picking up where he left off. None of those memories were what I wanted. I knocked my head against the wall again, digging deeper and further back, past our fighting during the days leading up to the battle.
I stretched as far back as I could, until there was just Seneca and me, sitting on the bench beneath the oak tree. She had the plaid blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm. She rested against my chest as we watched the stars. I clung to that moment when my arms had held her safe, and I kissed her hair. We’d talked quietly about life after the war. About taking a vacation to the beach as she wanted. We just talked and held each other close.
“That’s it,” Macron’s voice reached me through the fog of memories. “Hold onto that moment right there and don’t let go.”
I opened my eyes. “For how long?”
“For as long as you can, every day and every hour you’re awake. But you cannot stay here. It will only get worse before it gets better. When she is well, I will find you.” He squeezed my shoulder then returned to the chamber, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Let’s get you back to your room,” Owen suggested as he took firm hold of my hand.
“No, I can’t go back there and just lay around. Not while she’s suffering. I have to do something. Help with something. Where are Shane and Marlie? Or Nathaniel?”
“On the main level seeing to the wounded. Doing what they can to make this place livable.”
“Take me to them.”
He hesitated but gave in. The march downstairs was much harder. Stairs were not my friend, but I managed not to fall down them, mostly thanks to Owen. There were more vampires and fae walking around on the main floor, demons, too. I spotted a few of my guard who’d survived.
Wendall waved to me, but he was busy cleaning up rubble that had fallen into one of the corridors, so I let him be. I didn’t need Owen to guide me to the front entrance. I already knew where it was from memory.
“What’s with all the yelling?” I asked as we neared.
It sounded like Minnie, Marlie, and Shane were yelling at someone. When we entered the main foyer, the three of them were staring down a group of men in suits—Feds from the look of them. Minnie was holding her own. I was surprised to see her back here after she left with the rest of the evacuees from Madwich. The man in front, I recognized him as the agent Seneca spoke of several times, the same one who came by the cottage when she tried to warn him Rudarius was going to attack.
“Agent Williams,” I said loudly and walked toward him. “What brings you here?”
“It would appear everyone here is in violation of a hundred laws, probably more,” he snapped. “And where did this fortress come from? What is going on here? There are piles of dead bodies out in the fields, Madwich has been emptied, and you all stand here, acting like it’s no big deal.”
“You know, if you’d been here a week ago, you would’ve been able to help us defeat Rudarius.”
His eyes narrowed. “Defeat? The bastard’s dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead, and his army is defeated. There are prisoners in the dungeons. Ones who surrendered. From his army. An army that would have destroyed this town if we hadn’t acted,” I pointed out.
“This isn’t Otherworld,” he uttered through gritted teeth. “I can’t condone fighting battles here. There are human lives to think of. Innocents.”
“And because of us, they’re all safe. Take the win, take the prisoners, and get the hell off our land.”
“Your land?”
“Yes, our land. You and I both know who this land belongs to and you are trespassing.”
He grunted, annoyed. “Be that as it may, you cannot form an army, no matter whose land it is.”
“The army is disbanded,” I said simply. “Those here are working to rebuild this fortress, which will become the new home for the Bleeding Crown Coven. As such, everyone here is my guest. No army. Just guests. They can stay as long as they wish.”
“Where’s Seneca? I’ve been demanding to speak with her,” Agent Williams demanded.
“She is unavailable now. Come back in a week or so, and I’m sure she’d love to have a chat with you.” My chest ached, willing my words to be true and she would be better in a week or so. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”
One of the men behind Agent Williams whispered in his ear. He nodded slowly and stepped forward. “Fine, but I expect you to hand over all the prisoners to be held accountable for their war crimes against Otherworld, Valesk, and the human realm.”
“They’re all yours. Shane? Can you see to it?”
“Yes.” He began leading the way to the dungeons, telling Agent Williams he was going to need more men than what he had if he wanted to take all the prisoners.
“How many are down there?” I asked Owen.
“The cells are full.”
I hadn’t expected it to be that many. Minnie and Marlie came toward me.
“You’ve seen her,” Minnie said. “I sense a heaviness weighing you down.”
“She’ll make it,” I insisted. “She has to. I won’t let her die.”
She patted my cheek. I hoped she would say she saw a bright future for Seneca, saw her waking up and rejoining us, but then she walked away, saying she had wounded to tend to. Marlie shook my hand firmly.
“You need a dis
traction.”
“That I do. Anything.”
He told Owen he’d watch over me and the demon left us. “We’re working on repairs. Good hard manual labor.”
“That’ll do just fine.”
I didn’t expect him to take me to the throne room though.
I stopped short at the door.
The curtains had been closed over the windows blocking out the sun, but I wasn’t sure I could enter that room.
Marlie called my name.
I held up my hand, asking for a minute. I shut my eyes and held in my mind the image of Seneca and me on that bench. I waited until I could physically feel her near me, smell her hair, hear her breathing, and the steady pounding of her heart. Once I had it firmly in mind, I opened my eyes and entered the room. Ash and his brothers and several more fae were there, clearing out the crumbled stones and tearing down the old tapestries.
“You alright?” Marlie asked me again.
“I’m fine. Just… this is where it happened. But I’m fine.”
We set to work, and anytime the guilt or fear crept in again, I focused on that moment in time when it was just Seneca and me when nothing else mattered.
Five more days passed, and I threw myself into the work of restoring Rudarius’s fortress, making it my own. Nathaniel sent a messenger to the rest of the Bleeding Crown Coven with an update. Rudarius was dead, and they needed to know. The mages continued cleansing the place, though it was slow-going, especially when they reached the dungeons and the room where the cracked totem resided. Several couldn’t stand to be there longer than a few minutes.
Those who had been connected to the totem couldn’t enter them at all.
Agent Williams removed the prisoners over a three-day period, since there were so many. But they were off our hands and that’s all that mattered to me. Once the dead were seen to, spirits finally began to lift and most nights found the halls of Rudarius’s once frightening stronghold filled with laughter and music, drinking, and boisterous chatter. His evil was finally going to be put behind us.