by Eva Brandt
Eva Brandt
Spring's Vampires. Blooms of Blood
Soulmates of Seasons 4
First published by Eva Brandt 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Eva Brandt
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Cover art is for illustrative purposes only. Cover by Rainbow Danger Designs.
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
Contents
Spring’s Vampires. Blooms of Blood
The Warning
The Queen of Life and Death
Venom
Kiss of Death
Reunion
Family Matters
The Grand Lich
Protection
Blood of a Nymph
Diplomacy
Between the Future and the Past
Confrontation
Entwined Souls
Epilogue
Soulmates of Seasons Index
About the Author
Also by Eva Brandt
Spring’s Vampires. Blooms of Blood
A queen of life and death, surrounded by secrets. Three vampires, torn between love and duty. A bond stronger than time itself.
Once upon a time, I thought I knew what I was—a nymph, a half-goddess, a queen of the seasons. I thought I knew my purpose—to protect, to heal, to encourage the rebirth of the world.
That life is now gone. War has come to The Land of Time, and I am the reason. I’ve unknowingly become a harbinger of death, and no one around me seems inclined to tell me how to fix it. Even my sisters are keeping secrets from me.
I only have three allies left, three people who I know won’t ever lie to me. My three soulmates, my vampires. But I’m hurting them too, just as much as I’m hurting my homeland.
Our future is written in blood. That much, I can accept. Warmth, truth and kindness can be found even in death. But I’m just not sure I can find my way to that future.
I am Eranthe, the daughter of the sun god Helios. I am Eiar, the avatar of spring. But I’m meant to be more than that, and it is a fate I dread. I can only hope my vampires will help me face it.
Blooms of Blood is a 61k words reverse harem fantasy romance that contains steamy spring goddess/vampire action, mild F/F content, plenty of crazy twists, sneaky plots, and surprises. Part of the Soulmates of Seasons series, the Spring’s Vampires arc. (Releases for the series will come out all throughout 2019).
One
The Warning
Adrian
A few months before
“Welcome, members of the Aeternum Great Coven. I see you have all been speedy in obeying my summons. This pleases me.”
I stared at the onyx floor, keeping my gaze averted from the figure of my superior. With the corner of my eye, I caught glimpses of countless other figures dressed in black, all using the same stance I was in. Baltasar and Cezar were, as always, by my side, although, like me, they had no idea what this mysterious meeting was about.
“Do you know why I called you all here?” the Grand Lich inquired, as if guessing my thoughts.
After centuries of serving him, I was well aware that he had some quirks. One of them was that he didn’t ask questions unless he expected a reply. “No, Grand Lich,” we all answered.
“I have a mission for you, a mission of great importance, which I can only trust to people very loyal to The Voievodat. Fair warning, it might be unpleasant. I will not force you to take it if you do not wish it. I will require several volunteers.”
As he spoke, the Grand Lich floated closer to me and my friends. I lifted my eyes just in time to see him sweep past Cezar and caress his hair. I couldn’t see his hand make contact with Cezar, just his sleeve touching Cezar’s head and the brief shadow of his necromantic magic. Cezar didn’t seem to find it odd, but then again, it was not the first time the Grand Lich did something like this. For a terrifying necromancer, he was a surprisingly affectionate person, and he and Cezar were related.
The moment was broken by one of the other vampires present in the crypt. In a somewhat unwise course of action, Andreya cleared her throat and asked the same question that had been on my mind. “What does this mission involve, My Lord? Is The Voievodat in danger?”
The Grand Lich didn’t like being questioned, interrupted, or having his speeches hijacked. This time, he made an exception. “I’m... uncertain. That is exactly the problem, and it’s the reason why you must be discreet, at all costs.”
I stopped trying to keep my submissive position and shared a look with Baltasar and Cezar. That sounded a little alarming, but also much too vague for my comfort.
Since Cezar was the person least likely to be punished for speaking out of turn, he was the one to press for more information. “You can count on us to always be loyal to The Voievodat, Grand Lich,” he tentatively offered. “But if I may be so bold... What is the matter?”
The Grand Lich pulled away from Cezar and floated back to his throne. He didn’t sit down on it, but then again, he never did. I suspected he kept the thing around solely for decoration. Having furniture made out of the skulls and bones of your enemies was a foolproof method to terrify and intimidate potential foes, and it worked wonders in The Voievodat.
“The problem stems from Chronikos,” he explained. Behind his black hood, his eyes glinted like burning coals. “As you know, we don’t have a lot of contact with The Land of Time, and the recent avatars of the seasons have been trying to keep undead away. Despite this, there’s been a surge in necromantic magic in The Realm of Eternal Ice. It is unlike anything we’ve seen before in the area. It’s more powerful than some magic we use here, which shouldn’t be possible.”
The idea that someone in Tou Cheimóna could wield necromantic magic of such strength seemed surreal. Even leaving aside Chronikos’s policy toward the undead, there was no reason why such energies should have appeared there, to begin with. Necromancy was a branch of magic used primarily here in The Immortuos Voievodat and in Ton Daímon. It clashed with most other types of magic, which was why I’d been forced to leave my own homeland behind when the necromantic arts had begun to take a toll on my body.
“For the moment, we haven’t been able to identify the exact source,” the Grand Lich continued, “but we do believe that it is something that needs to be kept in check, for the sake of the future of The Immortuos Voievodat.” He paused and swept his eyes over the gathered crowd. “Suffice to say, this mission will not be an easy one. You’ll have to move around a lot in sunlight and face magic unlike anything you’ve seen before. Are you prepared for this?”
Many would have probably volunteered for the task. It sounded exciting and it would help us escape the constant tedium of living in Aeternum.
Even so, most of those present hesitated at the concept of having to face sunlight in such a way. Not everyone was as lucky as my friends and I were, and no matter how bored they got, three-quarters
of the vampires in Aeternum did have some self-preservation.
I personally didn’t have the same issue, and the expedition did seem to show promise. I was debating the merits of volunteering when Baltasar sort of did it in my stead. “I would be honored if you entrusted me with this task, My Lord,” he offered. “As you know, my vulnerability to sunlight is less pronounced. I believe I would be able to help find an answer to this dilemma.”
“Hmm, yes,” the Grand Lich said, “you would be an appropriate addition to a possible party of scouts. But you do not possess the abilities necessary to track down the source of the necromantic surge.”
“I’m sure Adrian can lend us his skills.”
If anyone else had dared to take me for granted in such a way, the person in question would’ve regretted it for the rest of his or her miserable life. But this was Baltasar, and he’d obviously realized that I wanted to go too. “Yes, of course,” I said, nodding. “My arts are at your disposal.”
“And I take it you will join them, won’t you, Cezar?” the Grand Lich asked.
“Of course, My Lord,” Cezar replied. “If it pleases you.”
The hasty addition made the Grand Lich pause. I couldn’t see anything past his hood, but I suspected he was smiling. “It does indeed please me,” he said. “I’m certain you will do well on this mission.”
He looked away from us and turned his attention toward the rest of the assembly. “Great Coven of Aeternum, you are dismissed. Report to the emperor in two nights’ time for the routine ritual.”
A chorus of “Yes, Grand Lich,” and variations along that theme followed his command. The others all got up, saluted, and trailed out of the crypt. We alone remained kneeling, instinctively knowing that he still wanted to discuss something with us.
It was only when the doors had closed behind the last vampire that the Grand Lich started to speak again. “Before you go on this journey, there is something else you need to know. There are secrets hidden underneath Chronikos, powers that shouldn’t be disturbed. My oath as a lich keeps me from discussing it in detail with those not in the know, but do not take any chances. Carry my blessing with you and allow it to guide you.”
There were few types of power in this world that made the Grand Lich wary. Being reckless about magic was a necromancer’s natural modus operandi, and the Grand Lich was no different. If anything, the opposite was the case. Necromancers didn’t pay much heed to the limits and rules other magic users obeyed, and the Grand Lich broke those laws more often than everyone else put together.
On the other hand, Chronikos was said to be the home of the Axis Mundi, the center of the world. If the Grand Lich believed the surge in necromantic magic had something to do with that, it stood to reason that he’d be concerned.
“We understand, My Lord,” I promised. “We will be careful.”
“Good.” For the first time since I’d met him, centuries ago, the Grand Lich actually sat down on his throne. His black robes shuffled, as if he’d crossed his legs underneath the material that shielded every inch of his body. “Oh, and one more thing. Do not trust anyone and anything except each other. That place holds more lies and deceit than Ton Daímon.”
I’d have liked to ask him to explain his cryptic statement, but he dismissed us before we could do so. “Go now, and may the powers of the undying night shroud your journey.”
“You have our thanks, Grand Lich,” Cezar answered.
Together, my friends and I bowed, allowing the magic of the Grand Lich to flow over us one more time. As we exited the crypt together, we were left with countless, unanswered questions. “Well, that was ominous,” Baltasar commented. “What do you suppose he meant by deceit?”
“I have no idea, but there’s only one way to find out,” Cezar replied. “We’re going to Chronikos. I dare say this trip might be even more interesting than I originally thought.”
I shot them both a quick smile. “It certainly won’t be boring, that’s for sure. We’re fortunate. I was looking forward to a challenge.”
The Land of Time might hold powers beyond my ken, but I’d never allowed that to stop me. I’d heed the Grand Lich’s warning, but I’d also embrace the opportunity to add some color to my increasingly grey eternal existence.
And if, in the process, we managed to find the problem that worried our superior so much, it would just be the icing on the cake.
* * *
Present day
Being an immortal, I was used to change. The passage of time was one of the few things that remained a constant, no matter what, much to the annoyance and dismay of most undead.
When we emerged from Hades to find that our journey to the underworld had taken far longer than we’d expected, I didn’t know what to make of it. It shouldn’t have bothered me. I’d gotten lost in the endless fields of flowers of this realm and had taken it in stride. This was different.
Stepping onto the soil of Tis Ánoixis felt like returning to a different realm, familiar, yet not. The cheer that had irritated me and my fellow vampires upon our arrival had dissipated, replaced by a silent anger that didn’t bode well.
According to Eranthe’s enemy and unexpected ally, Snegurka, a war had started between my homeland and Chronikos. Our disappearance had caused our families to come after us in an attempt to rescue us.
I could certainly see Cezar’s family doing that. Cezar’s parents, Radu and Maria were protective of their son. Although they did trust Cezar to handle his own affairs, a trip to Hades would have made them attack. Cezar’s uncle, Emperor Octavian was a fierce man, but he treasured his family and would’ve taken this affront poorly.
As we launched ourselves in the air, I wondered where that left us. While I could understand the reason behind the war well enough, I couldn’t actually figure out how we were supposed to end it.
“Do you think they’ll just stop fighting because we show up there alive?” I asked, unable to keep my skepticism from showing. “There’s already been so much fighting and death. Things like that don’t just end overnight.”
“They do when royalty gets involved,” Snegurka replied. “The life of a royal is always more important than that of countless of his or her underlings. Or do they do things differently in The Voievodat?”
“The Voievodat isn’t the issue here, Snegurka,” Cezar answered tightly. “Most of the forces we lose in this war, we can replenish or resurrect. But Tis Ánoixis isn’t so lucky. Their dead will stay that way. If my uncle started this war with Chronikos, that blood will demand retribution.”
Eranthe said nothing, but the winds around her became chillier, almost as icy as the blizzards surrounding Snegurka’s transparent form. I knew without being told that she’d already realized this. The war wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Not for the first time, I wished we’d been able to do more or had been honest with Eranthe from the beginning. If we’d listen to Eranthe’s mother, would we have managed to prevent her kidnapping? I didn’t know, and that question would probably haunt me forever.
We were apparently soulmates. We should have seen it. We should have realized that, no matter what vows we’d taken in front of the Grand Lich, our first loyalties belonged to...
That train of thought came to a screeching halt when I had a dawning realization. “Wait a minute,” I whispered. “Does anyone else know about us being Eranthe’s soulmates?”
“We don’t exactly socialize with your people, Adrian de Búrca,” Snegurka said. “I have no idea if they know. As for the rest of us... The possibility was brought up, but it wasn’t something we considered relevant.”
“Of course it’s relevant,” Baltasar piped up. “Soulmates are very rare and very important for the undead. We could use our bond to—”
“No,” Eranthe cut him off. “There’s nothing to use. We’ve already established that the main issue isn’t the approach The Voievodat is going to take. Whatever relationship you and I have isn’t important in the big picture. No matter how much we va
lue our potential connection, Cezar is correct. Innocent civilians are dead, and one bond between four people is nothing compared to that.”
Her words would’ve hurt if she hadn’t stolen a glimpse at us and shot us a quick, sad smile. When we’d been in Hades together, Eranthe had obviously wanted to pursue what we’d found. That hadn’t changed, but once again, Eranthe had to prioritize.
“Right,” I replied. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were probably thinking that the world is a better place than we all know it to be,” Eranthe answered. “But don’t apologize for it. Even in such dark times, there’s always hope.”
“I don’t know if to admire your optimism, little half-breed, or to hit you in the head for it,” Snegurka muttered.
“It’s not optimism. I’m a deity of spring and rebirth, remember? If I give up, who will be there to rebuild everything that was lost? It’s my job to look to the future, and I have to be confident that we can fix this.” She paused and let out a small sound of realization. “Oh, dear. This is... unexpected.”
At first, the non sequitur took me aback. I didn’t understand what she meant and why she’d changed the subject. Seconds later, her remark started to make sense. A heat wave struck us like a physical blow, almost as potent as the lethal energies of Hades.
The power had an entirely different feel and it didn’t drag us down. A veil of magic stood in its path, protecting us from most of the damage. Snegurka wasn’t so lucky. She cried out and recoiled, obviously in pain. Her floating figure blurred around the edges, becoming even more transparent than it had already been.
Eranthe waved her hand, and just like that, a cloud of soothing magic surrounded all of us, including our unexpected ally. Snegurka returned to her regular self, although she was obviously pissed off. “Tarasia,” she hissed.
“It does appear that my sister has been making changes,” Eranthe mused, “although I’m surprised you didn’t know about it.”