Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3)

by Mercedes Jade

Yet, there was only one Daemon in the whole Kingdom she could be referring to, and that necessitated further interrogation.

  “What magic type is Elizabeth?”

  “Air,” Kaila replied.

  When they were children, he’d usually been able to tell Kaila’s lies. She hadn’t been very good at making up things on the spot.

  Adult Kaila had enough time to have perfected any lies she wanted to tell him.

  How many times would Kaila have repeated those lies to keep her family safe?

  He and the general had worked out that there was something special about the oldest daughter, Elizabeth.

  It was in how William had avoided discussing her and had gotten awkward when the general pushed him about her.

  Then, Kaila said George and Daemon were somehow connected to Elizabeth.

  “And what other magic?” Jaeson prompted.

  Dual powers were more common than single, although usually less strong than a pure strength in one magic.

  “She only possesses air. We had her tested twice when she was an infant, but there was never any fire,” Kaila carefully answered.

  Jaeson couldn't care less about fire.

  He could see how that would've been more important to a pompous fire lord.

  The general had read enough of Kaila’s unsent letters—which she had hidden in her castle walls—to know that the lack of fire in Elizabeth had been a source of contention between Kaila and her late husband.

  “No earth?” Jaeson asked. Jill was extremely strong in earth from what he’d been witness to so far.

  “None. She inherited the air from me, of course. Her father was a pure fire-lord, so we assumed she had dormant fire that never manifested.”

  He wished he hadn’t accepted her challenge to lead. He couldn’t monitor her limp like this, or the way her body would tense if she was lying, or how her eyes would look to the side as she made up something on the spot.

  All he had was her voice, and that had matured over the years.

  “Air witches are fairly common, hardly worth Daemon chasing one all over Maeren to feed upon,” he commented, stopping suddenly and pivoting to see her response.

  There was fear in her eyes, all the more surprising because he didn’t remember ever seeing it on her face during her reckless childhood.

  It made him angrier than her crippled foot.

  Something had happened to put a scar on Kaila’s soul, fear in her heart.

  “We will rescue her,” he hastily promised.

  Her features smoothed out, calm blunting all but a mild anxiety that she couldn’t hide when her fake smile failed to reach her eyes.

  “Daemon is the one that may need saving,” she told him, brushing past as she walked on.

  He pivoted again and grabbed her arm on the side of her bad ankle, forcing help on her. His tight grip advised against a useless struggle.

  “Did you know Elizabeth sold her blood for some chalk?” he asked, probing her again.

  His grip tightened as he thought of his own daughter’s death for a blood trade gone wrong.

  Deborah had been sweet but headstrong, and terribly naive.

  “Elizabeth is unused to Maeren,” Kaila excused.

  The young witches had grown up in the human realm. Although, he was curious about the reason why, that wasn't the line of questioning he needed to focus on right now.

  “All the more reason to guard Elizabeth closely. What was she doing in Maeren without you?” he asked, turning the corkscrews.

  He didn’t like tormenting Kaila, but they needed answers.

  Jill and Victoria had accompanied Elizabeth that day. The circle work was unmistakably done by the princess, those arching lines replicated in her dragon transport spell.

  What had happened in the burnt out meadow—a battle by the looks of the destruction—had barely been explained by the young witches. They were hiding something.

  Something that could have killed them. He doubted Kaila was unaware of what danger they had faced.

  “Elizabeth is old enough to shop alone in Maeren for a few baubles,” Kaila evasively answered. She was leaning into his supporting arm without being too obvious about it. “Why did you and my father travel all this way to find us?” she asked, switching subjects.

  It was an obvious ploy, but he couldn’t hold back his response.

  “You were dead,” he bit out, blunt and angry. The ground trembled under their feet and he tried to tone it down. “Your father never gave up, but the rest of us believed it true after a decade of fruitless searching through the mess you left behind. We mourned you and the babies. Your memorial stones still stand in your family crypt.”

  “Perhaps, you should have left us dead,” she whispered. “We’ll bring you nothing but trouble and my father really is getting too old for any shenanigans,” she bitterly added, stumbling on the uneven road.

  Jaeson swept her up in his arms, cradling her like a child. He pressed an inhaled kiss to the top of her head, disregarding her slight protest. His grip was unyielding and supporting.

  He was going to have to let the questioning rest for now. Kaila was barely holding it together, more distraught than he’d realized.

  There would be further opportunity once Kaila had been reunited with Jill and her father. Jaeson didn’t plan on leaving her side, so he merely had to wait for the right time to ask his questions.

  “Stubborn wren. Your father got to hold Jill in his arms and provide her the comfort a grandfather should be allowed to show. He will demand that we find Elizabeth next, so he can do the same for her. The princes will be crushed if they dare interfere with the family reunion. Don’t think that you can deny your father now that he knows you are all alive as he had hoped.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest. Her sigh was half relief and half unanswered worries.

  He started walking, carrying her.

  The tense muscles of her shoulders would need massaging when he made her lie down for a hot poultice to ease her crippled ankle.

  When she spoke again, it was with less vinegar. “It’s too late to back down. We have a royal order to carry out. The girls and I could use your help.”

  “Whose order?” he demanded.

  He wanted to wrap Kaila and her family into his protection, not let them out into Maeren with a dragon rampaging the countryside.

  “King Nicholas. I’ll tell you the details once we meet my father.”

  “How soon? There’s something we need to tell you, too.”

  He wondered if Kaila already knew there had only been one body discovered in the ruins of her castle and if that was why she had kept hidden for so long.

  If not, then she was in for a terrible surprise. These secrets were going to crush all of them.

  “Soon,” she said. They had reached the edge of town and she started wiggling to get loose. “Let me down, so I can walk when I see my father.”

  He set her on her bare feet again. They were already dusty from the roads.

  “Do you want to buy new shoes?” he asked.

  Kaila was quite a proud witch as he recalled.

  “I can purchase sandals. They’re better suited for Maeren,” she said. She brushed some of the dust off of her fancy clothes. “I didn’t have time to change,” she remarked, sounding a bit embarrassed.

  “You look fancy enough for an audience with a king,” he commented.

  “Good thing,” she cryptically muttered, walking towards the town.

  He bought sandals for her, picking out a sturdier pair than the one she had eyed with a meagre handful of marks.

  Perhaps the theory that Kaila and her daughters were poor—and had resorted to selling their blood—was valid.

  It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Her father was one of the wealthiest earth-lords after the clan wars. Her husband had been an even richer fire-lord.

  “Lift your foot,” he told her, dropping to his knees on the dusty path to put the newly purchase
d sandals on her feet. He didn’t care if the merchants stared.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and offered him her scarred foot first.

  He fastened the sandal, then let his hands trail up her ankle, pushing the fine fabric of her pants up.

  His earth searched for the deeper injury, feeling the poorly healed bone and traumatic arthritis in the joint.

  “Do you really plan to stand in front of your father with this ankle?” he asked, tempted to heal it without even asking.

  “I killed the vampire that caused the injury. Consider it a memento,” she said, pulling her scarred ankle free of his grasp.

  “Does he deserve your memory?” Jaeson asked, putting a sandal on her other foot as she held it up, balancing on her bad ankle.

  “I’m the one that can’t be allowed to forget,” she answered.

  He buckled the second sandal too tight and then loosened it, forcing a deep breath in and out.

  “We will discuss this further after you’ve seen your father,” he told her.

  “Thank you for the shoes. I’ll have my father pay you back,” she politely said, trying to put distance between them.

  She likely didn’t want her father’s control any more than his own, but by offering him payment for his services rendered, she kept him from trying to claim anything more from her.

  She had always been a step ahead.

  He grunted a reply. She wouldn’t find escaping him as easy this time.

  The general had granddaughters to fuss over. A wayward, widowed daughter would be expected to deal with males vying for her attention on her own, given more freedom as an experienced witch.

  “Haven’t you married yet?” she bluntly asked as he stood up, giving up on subtly rebuffing him.

  “No,” he answered, not explaining further.

  The witch that birthed his daughter had never stayed with him, although he had supported them and she had allowed him to see his daughter when he came over for feedings.

  She had never married another vampire, craving the freedom from variety without a claim.

  He hadn’t seen her since his daughter died and they had both watched as Deborah’s body was lowered into an early grave.

  “Going to be a cankerous bachelor like my father?” she asked, still trying to peg him as a friend or an otherwise un-claimable category of males.

  He smiled to let her know that it was a wasted effort.

  He could claim her. His mouth already watered at the thought of tasting her powerful blood.

  The connection of a blood-bond would make keeping track of his wren easier, even if she decided to take flight once more.

  The general was still a bachelor, though obviously, he’d been married once. The clan wars had been disastrous on many relationships.

  Kaila’s mother, Aylin, had loved the general desperately.

  Aylin had clung to the general’s side with a toddler Kaila on her hip, while her husband had prepared to march at the king’s command.

  Jaeson had just been old enough himself at the time to remember the scene.

  Aylin had been so fearful that her husband would be killed in the war. It had been the wife that died due to poisoning from bad rye that had been harvested with a high level of ergots, a slow and painful death.

  Kaila had been fed the same flour, but she had unknowingly healed herself at that age, not recognizing her mother’s progressive poisoning.

  The general had never remarried, spurning even the small harem due to him as a lord.

  There were plenty of mature witches that accommodated him, and none that he grew attached enough to see more than casually.

  “Being a bachelor has its perks. I’m free to claim you, wren,” Jaeson shared, looking at her eyes for her response. Her mouth couldn’t be trusted.

  There was a genuine flash of surprise and a vulnerable moment of consideration, like the look a young witch gave a vampire courting her before he kissed her goodnight at her father’s doorstep.

  She hadn’t expected him to be so bold as to state his declarations.

  He had changed over the years as well.

  “No, thank you,” she finally refused, her hesitation obvious.

  His lips tipped at the corners in another, more secret smile that he hid by turning to lead her towards the pub.

  She followed behind him obediently. It had to be difficult for her, but she was in town and there were many eyes on them.

  Wren preferred to blend in like the bird he’d named her, plain and ordinary. She only showed those she trusted her more vibrant plumage.

  Jaeson once thought he’d known her true colours.

  “There’s always Boris, back home. He has all the rock headed qualities you prefer,” Jaeson teased her. Boris was also old enough to be her grandfather.

  They’d reached the inn quickly. It was a small town. His teasing was to distract her from nerves.

  Although she’d deny being anxious if asked, he knew she had to be on tenterhooks waiting to reunite with her father again, as well as to assure herself that Jill was safe.

  He had no doubt that Kaila was very close to both of her daughters, would fight for them.

  The ruins of the castle said she’d already fought a great battle to keep her daughters safe.

  “No hoary Boris, definitely not,” she said, sounding more sure about her refusal this time.

  “Do you prefer fire-lords like your daughter?” he asked, tensing for her answer.

  Some witches enjoyed the warm touch of fire along their skin as they offered their blood. They would purposely seek out vampires with a secondary magic they could feed, as long as the vampire’s primary was fire.

  “What fire-lord is my daughter’s preference?” Kaila asked back, her freezing tone putting ice to his teasing.

  Jaeson opened the pub door, cursing himself. He had meant to wait for her to find out about the prince’s claim from the general.

  “Congratulations. Jill has been claimed into a royal harem,” he said, trying to sound jovial about it.

  The door slammed shut with air after Kaila walked through it. She’d ripped it out of his hands.

  He opened it again, quickly, and stepped inside. He was too late to stop this disaster.

  “Jill!” boomed Kaila’s shout through the pub, the glassware rattling in the shelves.

  Jaeson leaned against the door and contemplated going back outside.

  A smarter vampire wouldn’t chase after Kaila, but he had always been a fool for his wren.

  Had Kaila forgotten?

  Motherzilla

  Kaila

  Kaila entered the pub in a storm. She may as well announce her presence in a powerful way, so none would interfere with her purpose.

  Jill was coming with her!

  The four younger ones were seated together at a booth. She recognized the twin prince and princess, as well as her daughter. A young earth-lord she’d never met rounded off their group.

  They had been eating, while her father sat by himself, sipping whiskey. He was positioned closer to the fireplace and gossip, keeping a watchful eye on his granddaughter.

  It could have been a scene from her own childhood, although she hadn’t had as many friends. Only Jaeson, for which to keep her company.

  Her father’s attention swiftly changed to her as she stormed the pub. He sprung up, spry despite his age.

  The rest of the pub was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Then, Jaeson entered through the door she had slammed in his face, the door now squeaking back open behind her.

  She could feel Jaeson’s strong magic, knowing it was him without needing to look.

  He’d better hang back if he didn’t want to get hurt.

  “Kaila!” boomed her father. The general didn’t need air to make his voice carry.

  Kaila halted in her tracks.

  “Hello, Father. I will be back in five minutes,” she said, giving him her back.

  She hurried over to Jill and yanked her daughter out of the booth.


  Victor slid out beside Jill, looking rebellious. The ruby in his ear flashed fire.

  How in Maeren had this happened?

  Neither of her girls had mentioned a crush on this prince.

  Victor had proposed a claim, but Jill had said it was out of obligation, due to his protective character.

  A knight in shining armour or some other romantic nonsense.

  Jill had slipped Victor the potion like she had Victoria, and she hadn’t seemed hesitant at the time.

  They’d all turned their back on the castle and every one of its inhabitants that they’d left behind. A clean break.

  “Greetings, Lady Norwood,” Victor said.

  He sounded like he wasn’t surprised to see her at all. Next, he’d invite her to take a seat!

  This wasn’t his castle they were at any longer.

  Kaila gave Victor a derisory rake of her gaze, then a dismissal.

  He’d failed to carry through his kidnapping.

  It might have taken her a day, but she’d caught him—red handed—absconding with her daughter.

  “Unless you’re secretly a dragon, stealing witches is a crime born of pathetic charms. Jill refused you once. Release her immediately!” Kaila demanded.

  “Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” Jill said.

  “Outside, now!” Kaila ordered her daughter.

  Jill grabbed Victor’s hand. They marched toward the outside.

  Victoria followed, and behind her, the general.

  The entire pub started buzzing again.

  Jaeson held the door open for everyone, whispering to her father as he passed that he had accidentally revealed the claim between Jill and the fire-water prince.

  Kaila rolled her eyes at Jaeson, overhearing his confession.

  Always reporting back to her father. That wasn’t new.

  Nobody else in the pub was brave enough to follow them outside.

  If she was swift about it, Kaila could save Jill from making a big mistake without unintentionally humiliating her daughter further.

  That little remark from Jill had hurt. Was she an embarrassment to her youngest daughter?

  She had no idea what Kaila had been through the last twelve hours, worrying over her and Elizabeth. Victoria, too, although Kaila could see the princess was safe.