Alek contemplated, a battle raging in his eyes.
I sighed, feeling the immobility in him. I couldn’t truly blame him. Not when I was fighting to keep him alive too, just in a different way.
He drew me closer, and I melted into his embrace. “You aren’t going to let this drop, are you?” he whispered, tucking his chin over the top of my head.
“Not at all, no,” I said, shaking my head against his chest.
Alek released a long suffering sigh, one so agitated it almost made me laugh. “I’ll do anything to keep you alive,” he said.
I shifted in his hold, looking up at him. “And so will I.”
We stood there like that, a battle of silent stares with no winner in sight. Alek was my mate, this was my new world, and I would stop at nothing to keep us both alive.
Even if it meant I had to die first.
11
Alek
A shrill scream sounded from the back bedroom of the dilapidated house, and two more lycans rushed out of the dining room, one in mid-transition.
I lifted my Glock and fired two silver rounds, hitting both of them between the eyes in quick succession. One landed on the coffee table before me, and the other an anticlimactic heap on the soggy carpet.
At my left, Lachlan made quick work of their leader, snapping his neck with a clean twist.
The screaming in the back room stopped.
“And that’s why you’re not supposed to be here!” Lachlan snapped at me, motioning toward the lycans I’d taken out. “They could have—”
“But they didn’t, because I killed them.” I wasn’t having this fight again tonight. Anyone who thought themselves capable of rendering judgment had to be willing to carry it out.
“And you didn’t use your powers.” Lachlan’s steely gaze narrowed on mine. “All it takes is one bite, and we’re short a king.” He dropped the body and stepped over it.
“There were four of them, not fourteen. Relax.” The assholes had kidnapped four human girls but slipped away when Luka’s pack mounted a rescue mission. The girls had been found physically unharmed, thank fuck, and returned to their parents after their memories had been altered to omit the werewolves. And as for the lycan trash? Their sentence was death.
Hawke walked back into the room, his face and leather jacket spattered with blood, only to shrug when he caught us staring. “What? He ran. I chased. I caught.”
Lachlan grunted, which said it all. Hawke was…well…Hawke. We were just lucky that he was on our side.
A tingle formed at the base of my skull, and I turned to face the energy shift at the open front door, drawing both my weapons.
Benedict materialized, knives strapped to his thighs, and Glocks holstered beneath his arms. His mouth was set in a firm line. That was always a bad sign.
“Lyric?” I blurted, searching for the bond that kept me tethered to her. It still glowed bright but was stretched thin seeing as we were miles away from Edgemont, deep in the hills of Lycan territory.
“She’s fine. She and Avi are with Ransom,” Benedict said, his eyes sweeping over the carnage with the aloof assessment of a male who had seen far worse scenes. “But you’re needed at Conclave. Now.”
I holstered my weapons. “We’re not due to meet for another three weeks.” And hell, it was Halloween, the one night of the year it was acceptable to show a little fang out in the general public.
“Genevieve called an emergency session.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. Emergency sessions only meant trouble.
Benedict nodded as if reading my mind. “Jocelyn was attacked.”
“Is the lass alright?” Lachlan asked.
“That’s two royal houses.” Hawke wiped off his bloodied knife on the top of the plaid sofa and sheathed it.
My thoughts ran in a dozen different directions. What were the odds that the Princess of the witches would be attacked within the same six weeks Avi had been? Other than the occasional attempt of a royal overthrow, there was never interspecies violence against royal houses. We all needed the Covenant too much.
Other than the fact that Luka had to battle to keep his Alpha status every time some other wolf challenged him, we were all relatively stable and had been for years.
Was this the last attack? Or just the latest?
I turned to Lachlan. “Go to the females. Put the estate on lockdown.” Who the females were was too obvious to state, and at least the majority of the nobles had gone home after the wedding.
“You’re taking that one?” He motioned toward Hawke, whose face looked like he’d been playing at a paintball range that only used red ammunition.
“He’s good for dramatic effect,” Benedict noted.
Hawke flipped him the middle finger.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” I told Lachlan.
He nodded once, then disappeared.
“We go now,” I said to Hawke and Benedict, then welcomed the bite of ice as I wended to the hallway just outside the Conclave chamber. The original authors of the Covenant—my father, included, had been wise to seal the room against wending, especially with whatever fuckery this was afoot.
Hawke and Benedict appeared at my side, and at my nod, Hawke opened the door to the chamber.
The cacophony of arguing voices greeted us as we marched in. It didn’t escape my notice that Hawke didn’t fall behind me, but walked ahead instead, his head moving to scan left then right.
It was Hawke’s gift to sense fear and weakness—it’s what made him my most effective interrogator, and if he was unsettled enough to scout for threats, there was a good damned reason for it.
The sharp, paint thinner-like scent of anxiety filled the space as Hawke paused at the left side of my chair and stepped aside so I could pass through.
“It’s about goddamned time you got here!” Genevieve shouted, pointing her slender finger in my direction from where she, Luka, and Xavier stood facing off.
Luka was red in the face—never a good sign, and Genevieve’s hip-length silver hair was rippling from a breeze that didn’t exist—an even worse omen. Xavier stood with his arms crossed, looking bored as ever.
“Are you unharmed?” I looked past the trio to Jocelyn, Genevieve’s lilac-haired daughter, who stood proud and tall at the left of her mother’s seat, anger wafting off the young woman in waves of heat, but no fear. Good. Anger was something I could deal with, but a wounded witch posed more of a threat than even Luka at the full moon. They were their most dangerous when cornered.
“I’m fine.” She lifted her chin in Genevieve’s direction. “She’s the one losing her mind.”
The witch on the opposite side of the chair blanched.
Genevieve turned slowly toward her daughter, and the temperature dropped fifteen degrees in the chamber. “I have other daughters,” she said in clear warning.
“So, you keep reminding me.” Jocelyn smiled sweetly at her mother.
Benedict barely managed to stifle a laugh, and I darted a quick, reproaching glare his direction.
The temperature dropped another five degrees, and Patrick shivered from his seat. At least the human was smart enough to remove himself from the immortal fray. Both his attendants—one middle-aged man and a girl in her twenties, stared at the trio with wide eyes.
“Anyone care to fill me in?” I asked, falling into my seat with forced ease, hoping the others would do the same. It had been centuries since blood had stained the marble beneath us, and it would be a shame to end that streak.
Genevieve transferred her glare to me, but took her seat, her regal spine straight as an arrow. Once Luka settled in his own chair, Xavier sat, too. Patrick visibly relaxed, as did the other humans at his side.
“Tell them,” Genevieve ordered Jocelyn.
The young woman stepped forward and pushed the long sleeves of her sweater up her arm to reveal a set of fingerprint bruises. “I was out—”
“At a nightclub,” her mother spat.
“Yes.” Jocelyn r
olled her eyes. “At a nightclub, when some guy grabbed me coming out of the bathroom.”
I tensed, seeing the physical proof of just how hard he’d grabbed.
“He dragged me back into a storage room where there was another guy waiting.” She pushed down her sleeves. “We fought. I won.”
“Where are they? Benedict can question them,” I offered.
“I would be glad to be of service.” Benedict stepped forward and bowed his head deeply. After what had happened to his mother a couple hundred years ago, I wasn’t surprised.
“It’s a little too late for that.” Jocelyn arched a single brow. “I froze the blood in their veins. I’ve never been a fan of men touching me without permission.”
“Damn,” Xavier noted with appreciation.
“I already took care of the…mess,” Genevieve stated.
“There wasn’t even any blood, Mother. I’d hardly call that a mess.” Jocelyn said over her shoulder before turning back to us. “I’m very efficient when I need to be, and it was a human nightclub.”
“Not to sound like the asshole here, but was it…personal?” Luka asked, power rippling down his arms as his eyes flashed silver. “Did they know who you were?”
Jocelyn blinked at him. “If you’re asking if this was an anonymous rape attempt, I’d have to say no. They went for my talisman, not my pants.” She tilted her neck to reveal a red welt on her skin just above the chain that held the key to focusing her powers.
“Shit,” Luka muttered. “It’s not like you have a plethora of purple-haired witches over there, Genevieve. They knew who she was.”
“I’m well aware,” Genevieve snapped.
I lifted my brows at Xavier, hoping he’d ask the question so I wouldn’t have to blatantly insult him after what had happened to Avi.
“Were they demons?” Xavier asked, his shoulders going tense.
To her credit, Jocelyn looked him square in the eye. “No. I was in Witch territory. The men were human.”
Every head turned toward Patrick, who put his hands up, palms out. “I know nothing of this.”
“He tells the truth,” Benedict announced loudly, much to Patrick’s relief.
The focus shifted back to Jocelyn. “I didn’t stick around to find out if there were more of them. I went straight to my mother.”
“Anything…abnormal about the humans?” Luka asked.
“No. They had some tattoos, but they weren’t anything you couldn’t choose off the wall at any tattoo shop.” She looked back at her mother. “Are we done? It’s All Hallows’ Eve, and I have better things to be doing.”
Genevieve waved her back, and Jocelyn took her place beside the Queen. “Someone is trying to upset the order around here,” she said smoothly, drumming her fingertips on the arm of the chair.
“Maybe it should be,” Luka growled. “If the vampires are no longer capable of maintaining order—"
I bared fangs at Luka’s insinuation. “I just spent my evening cleaning up your mess, Luka. This is not a matter of false justice or slow sentencing. We’re facing a threat.” Now I just had to figure out what kind.
“Agreed,” Genevieve stated.
“And Xavier’s traitorous demon managed to off himself before we could get any useful information out of him.” I shifted my gaze to the demon king.
“It was a matter of hours,” Xavier countered with a shrug.
“Hours?” My gaze narrowed as a lethal stillness came over me. I’d only received the news after I declared Lyric immune to Xavier’s claim. “And your offer of a trade when you thought Lyric was an option?”
“He was dead by the time I returned.” Another fucking shrug.
“He’s telling the truth,” Benedict said quietly.
“Like I would bother with anything else when you’re around?” Xavier leveled an exasperated stare on Benedict. “Fucking living breathing lie detector.”
“At your service.” This time Benedict’s bow wasn’t respectful.
“Stop.” I stood before the two could get any deeper in their own shit. “Genevieve, I’ll send my guard to investigate the club and the bodies. Everyone keep an eye on their bloodlines. If they had the balls to go after Avi and Jocelyn, my guess would be the demon and lycan heirs are next.”
“If I were you, I’d worry more about your human Queen than my cousin or Luka’s brother,” Xavier drawled. “She seems a bit more…breakable.”
I kept my face neutral, but panic clawed its way up my throat.
There was no shaking the ominous feeling that I was missing something as we wended back to the estate. I spent hours with the guard before I allowed myself to seek out my wife.
Wife. The word helped soothe the acid in my stomach as I found her leaned over a text in the library.
“Hey!” She looked up the second I appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks flush with excitement.
How the hell was I going to keep her safe with this shit going on? I had Hawke standing guard whenever she left the estate, but it wasn’t like she was going to let me keep her locked up and safe.
“I’ve been waiting all night to tell you the best news!” She pushed away from the desk and came over to me.
“Oh?” That little blue dress was about to get her fucked, because damn. It had a modest neckline, but that gauzy skirt stopped about mid-thigh.
She clasped her hands and grinned. “Julian and I found a really old text.”
“How old?” I brushed my mouth over hers. We’d been mated a couple of weeks, but my need for her hadn’t died down. Instead, it had grown, and seemed to be reaching a fever pitch at this particular moment. My cock had gone hard the second I’d caught a hint of her scent.
“Really old.” She looped her arms around my neck. “Guess what it said?”
“Beware of beautiful blondes in blue dresses?” I teased, my hands sweeping down her back to her hips. I needed her—needed to bury myself inside her and feel just how warm, how alive she was.
“Even better.” Her hair fell back over her shoulders as she brought her hands down my chest. I’d ditched the jacket and the Glocks, so all that separated her from my skin was a black T-shirt. “It said that back in the thirteen-hundreds, there was a coven of vampires in Europe that successfully turned humans!”
Time stopped—at least that was how it felt. The old grandfather clock still ticked the seconds away in the corner, but my brain couldn’t process what my wife had just told me.
“Alek, it’s possible!” Her grin faded as she caught on that I wasn’t jumping for joy over here. “Look, I know it’s dangerous—”
“No.” I released her hips and backed away, putting precious, needed distance between us.
“I haven’t even finished telling you about it.” Two little lines appeared between her eyebrows. “Julian was right. The texts said if the human has even a drop of supernatural blood, it can work.” She grimaced. “Well, except wolves. It doesn’t work on those. But witches and seers can be turned.”
“No.” For fuck’s sake. I’d spent over four hundred years waiting for her, and she wanted to gamble with her life based off some old text that might have been written by a bunch of blood-crazed idiots?
“You’re being a little ridiculous.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “This is the answer to all our problems! All I need is one more blood exchange—”
“No!” My shout was accompanied by a blast of power that shook the crystals in the chandelier, but even that wasn’t enough to startle my wife into thinking clearly, because she just rolled her eyes at me.
“If you’re worried about the danger, then you should know it said the key was how powerful the blood of the vampire turning them was.” She tilted her head. “And last time I checked, you’re the most powerful guy around, so—"
How the hell was this happening? No one argued with me. Ever.
“I don’t care. The answer is no. You and danger don’t get to be on the same page, let alone in the same fucking sente
nce.” I walked over to the bar and poured myself a shot of whiskey, then slammed it back, letting the burn of the liquor slide all the way down my throat to soothe my stomach.
“I want to try!”
“Absolutely not!” I stalked past her, heading for the desk to see if the text was there. It was nothing a good fire couldn’t fix.
“Alek, I can be with you forever! I would be able to give you children—”
I whipped around to face her. “I don’t care about children. I care about you.” Not that the thought of her carrying my youngling wasn’t immensely satisfying, but nothing was worth the risk to her life. Nothing.
“Well, I care about you! Avianna doesn’t want to be queen. If I’m turned, I can give us an heir. We can spend every night of eternity wrapped up in each other.” She reached for me, and I ducked away from her hand.
“Not if you’re dead!” One touch, and I’d be all over her. My instincts roared, telling me to touch and taste. Telling me to claim her again while I still had the chance.
“If you’re the one turning me, I’ll survive!”
“You don’t know that!” I sensed Serge, and glanced his way to see him discreetly shutting the library door to give us privacy for this…whatever this was. A fight? An argument? A battle for her very life? The shutters were next, blocking out the windows so any nobles in residence couldn’t look across the courtyard and see us and start gossiping that the royal house was in disorder. Because that was our life. “Do you know what my life was before you came along?”
That brought her up short.
“It was night after night of feeding, and fighting, and filling the meaningless hours with politics and bureaucracy. You are what gives my life meaning, now. Without you, there’s nothing.” I gestured to both sides of me. “None of this means anything without you. How can you be willing to stake your life off a text from seven hundred years ago? Don’t you think if it was safe, they would have kept doing it?” There was a reason it was forbidden to feed a human.
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