Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3)

by Mercedes Jade

  “The Maerenian king is alive,” Daemon corrected Pan, though he kept his voice quite civil. “He wants to forgive the dragons for their wrongs.”

  “Dragons were the ones wronged!” Pan yelled, stomping away on her own.

  Yep, Elizabeth had set the wrong impression.

  Pan hadn’t even picked up on the big hint Daemon had provided her by speaking on the behalf of the king.

  “How would a dragonling like you even know what happened back then?” George asked, following close behind Pan.

  “I told you, I listen. I watch.”

  “So, you heard the dragon’s side of things? That doesn’t sound biased,” George mocked.

  “So, you heard the Maerenian’s side of things? Victors write the history books, even if they are cheats,” Pan responded.

  “Dragons are Maerenian as well,” George said, sounding possessive.

  “The rest of Maeren is content to forget about us as long as no more of their witches disappear,” Pan retorted.

  It was a lonely thought.

  “If dragons broke their curse so long ago, why haven’t they fought back against the Maerenian king for the injustice they suffered?” Elizabeth asked, chasing after Pan. “Why suffer? Why hide?”

  There was something still binding the dragons. Pan had said some of the females were restrained, locked up.

  “The Maerenian king has a second poison, one that could kill the dragons, instead of only send them to sleep,” Pan said, stopping and turning around.

  What?

  Daemon hadn’t mentioned anything like this to her.

  Pan stared over Elizabeth’s shoulder at Daemon, trailing behind as he gave them space for their furious discussion.

  “The dark enforcer reminds us of our place by holding his sword over our necks,” Pan quietly said.

  Was this the stick Daemon said her mother had been given by King Nicholas?

  Again, Pan made Elizabeth feel like they were the aggressors.

  “What if the King offered to give up the poison?” Daemon asked, coming up beside Elizabeth.

  They had all stopped again, taking their measure of each other.

  “Would he offer it to the light or dark clan?” Pan asked.

  “It would make the most sense to offer it to the dark clan with their superior warriors to aid the Maerenian king,” Daemon said.

  That was the wrong answer. Hadn’t he been listening to Pan. The light clan needed their help more!

  Only, this wasn’t about helping dragons. Daemon needed dragon strength—warriors.

  “The light clan doesn’t need anything from the Maerenian king,” Pan said, turning back around and stomping forward once more.

  “It sounds as if the light clan dragons are doing a good job of poisoning themselves,” George said, following close behind Pan.

  “Not the Maerenian king’s problem,” Pan said. “He won’t do anything to help the light clan without something to gain.”

  “Why should he?” George asked.

  “Nicholas was supposed to be king to all of the clans. Are the dragons just beasts to him?” Pan asked, her voice almost cracking with emotion at asking the question.

  No. Pan couldn’t cry in front of the princes. Her pride was fierce. Elizabeth understood it, and wanted to nurture the girl’s confidence to help her bargain.

  The light clan needed this opportunity.

  “Let me talk to her,” Elizabeth said to Daemon and George with telepathy.

  She pushed herself to catch up to Pan.

  They were about the same size, but the younger girl had trim muscles that were used to climbing mountains and flying the skies.

  “Are you from the light clan, Pan?” Elizabeth asked as she neared.

  George dropped behind to give them some distance, walking beside his brother.

  “Does it matter?” Pan asked, her voice sulky.

  “Why don’t we stop pretending you don’t know who we are and that we haven’t guessed your dragon clan? Let’s lay our hands out,” Elizabeth said, refusing to indulge the girl’s snit.

  They had important things to discuss.

  “What?” Pan asked, marching a little faster. “I’m not holding anything in my hands.”

  “Uh, I don’t mean literally,” Elizabeth said. “I just want honesty, and I’ll return the courtesy.”

  Pan peeked behind them, seeing the males were keeping their distance.

  “Are you a prisoner, or one of their lovers?” Pan asked.

  The question caught Elizabeth off guard. “I thought we clarified that I wasn’t a hostage.”

  “I thought you wanted to be honest? They won’t let you out of sight. All of Maeren knows the dark enforcer lost a beautiful air witch, he had been panting over. The dragons know she wasn’t merely a weak air witch, too.”

  Elizabeth guessed it was only fair if she opened up first.

  “You are referring to the dragons who I shocked with my appearance in the portal cave?” Elizabeth asked.

  Pan didn’t answer.

  “They attacked first, although I only killed one myself,” Elizabeth said.

  Was that choice going to cost them an alliance with the light clan?

  “I don’t care about what happens to dark clan dragons,” Pan said in a dark tone.

  There was maybe just a little fear hidden under it, too.

  “What do you care about, Pan? Just tell me what you want.”

  “The dark enforcer has to free us,” Pan answered, turning once more to look back at Daemon and George. “An opportunity like this may never come again.”

  Elizabeth felt a sliver of unease. She dove into Pan’s thoughts, hoping she wouldn’t—

  “It’s a trap!” Elizabeth shouted using telepathy.

  She turned around to see George and Daemon had stopped and were really quite a distance away from them now.

  Daemon was drinking from a water gourd and George had pulled out a large piece of paper that might be a map.

  "The water is tainted with a sedative!" Elizabeth warned Daemon.

  Daemon threw the gourd to the ground.

  “He has to come for you!” Pan shouted, her voice cracking once more with emotion.

  Oh, crap! Pan was changing, transforming into her dragon.

  The magic exploded beside her.

  Elizabeth could shield herself, but she hesitated, hoping it was still possible to talk Pan out of her crazy plan.

  If Pan just flew off, alone, she’d never return and they’d lose this one chance.

  George had figured out what was going on. He pulled hard on his earth, the ground trembling under all of their feet.

  “Sweetheart, circle yourself. We can track Pan down and . . .”

  Daemon’s telepathy trailed off in her mind as other minds suddenly hit their shields, starting both of them.

  They weren’t alone! Had the other dragons followed them?

  “Not dragons,” Daemon said. “Circle Pan as well. Or let her take off.”

  “Elizabeth, now!” growled an angry George.

  Three vampires crested a hill in the distance and ran towards her mates. They moved with purpose.

  Exactly as Pan had planned!

  Elizabeth saw it in Pan’s thoughts and then in reality, the overlap like a rapid déjà vu that played out in front of her eyes.

  Talons dug deep into Elizabeth’s shoulder, Pan’s dragon lifting her body up with a great whoosh of air.

  So much for getting into a circle.

  Elizabeth hurriedly raised her hands and clung to the clawed feet carrying her away, her decision made.

  Screaming as good as any other damsel in distress, Elizabeth caught sight of three younger earth-lords fighting against George.

  "Elizabeth, what are you doing?" Daemon asked.

  “Pan is kidnapping me to force your hand in her clan’s favour. Please, we can’t leave all those dragonesses imprisoned under King Rael! I’ll lead you to them and gain her trust while we have some time
alone,” Elizabeth hastily explained.

  She felt Daemon’s consciousness weakening from the sedative Pan had used to on the water he’d drunk.

  He could barely stand upright.

  Damn it. She couldn’t leave her mates behind if they were in danger.

  Who were these attackers?

  Elizabeth thrust her lightning towards one of the new minds that had appeared from over the hills to check their intentions.

  It was a young male’s mind—much younger than she’d expected from the way George and Daemon had prepared themselves to confront the threat from him and his two companions.

  Prince George really was conspiring with the demon prince.

  He couldn’t let his emotions at confronting his former leader interfere with their royal order. Prince George would understand best: obedience at any cost.

  Never dishonour family and bonds.

  The three new vampires were planning on arresting George and Daemon. They’d been sent by the court.

  She didn’t detect any malice in their thoughts. They were focused on their orders, like good soldiers. They had been told that the princes had to be brought back alive and unharmed for a trial.

  It wasn’t all that different from the orders George had been following for bringing her back to court.

  She would catch up to her mates before they even got close to the castle. It was better that her mates were distracted while Elizabeth went to bargain on their behalf.

  They’d stop her if they knew her true intentions.

  The light clan wasn’t where Elizabeth had her bargaining chip.

  Victoria would probably want to kill Elizabeth herself if she knew Elizabeth planned to use her in order to force the dark clan’s prince to aid them all.

  His willingness could be motivated by the one thing he’d hold dear over all else.

  A gaisa came only once in a dragon’s lifetime.

  It sometimes took a monster to defeat another. Raphael could retake his throne from Rael, and then they’d have more than enough dragon warriors to pledge into Daemon’s service in exchange for the poison.

  She was putting all of their hopes on a teenaged dragon girl, who pretended to be a boy for a little freedom.

  Daemon collapsed to the ground, unable to stay conscious.

  His vulnerable, curled body got smaller and smaller with every flap of Pan’s wings, until all Elizabeth could see was a dark spot of hope.

  Demon Witch

  Phillip

  Phillip didn’t hate demons.

  Prejudice was a vice for the lords, but a king had to rule over everyone. Such class driven hate had been known to tear apart kingdoms.

  Demons were easy scapegoats. Their pale skin made them stand out. Other elementals were jealous of demons’ extra magic, something many considered a cheat of the lesser genetic inheritance they’d received.

  Most folk didn’t even need to be superstitious to blame the demon next door for a rash of cattle deaths or the disappearance of witches in the middle of the night.

  It was their unnatural demon appetites.

  Once a demon consumed a witch’s soul, there was no saving their own.

  The demon haters were so irrational about their fears that even an innocent baby—like Daemon—had been targeted by their prejudices.

  Phillip couldn’t say his oldest brother had retained his innocence throughout his childhood, but Daemon had been born without the real sin of his demon brethren.

  Daemon never chose to steal the soul that made him.

  None of them had chosen their lot in life, exactly. They’d been born into it.

  Phillip felt he was fairly easy going for a fire prince. Some said his air evened his temperament, although others said that the air only flamed Daemon’s temper.

  He doubted their magic really had much to do with it. Their personalities had been shaped by their differing upbringings. The expectations and prejudices that surrounded them had a lasting influence.

  Phillip’s mother may be a bit smothering at times, but she had always supported him.

  Daemon was motherless and lacked even a strong father figure as they got older and the king became sicker.

  The loneliness of power was in every dark look thrown at Daemon’s back.

  So, it was with puzzlement—instead of bias—that Phillip sipped his tea and examined the demon sitting across from him from over the rim of his gilded teacup.

  This meeting had been a mistake.

  Phillip didn’t hate demons but he greatly disliked the one before him.

  “Did you say that Elizabeth Norwood is a demon?”

  William’s question could have been taken from Phillip’s lips.

  His earth grounded brother had the sensibility to question the ludicrous accusation.

  Phillip had to play along at least a little bit longer. He had a role to fulfill with so many of their brothers away from court.

  George’s mother was superstitious. Her worries over George being tricked by the ‘demon witch’ he had been sent after were likely exaggerated.

  This demon was the sole witness of a crime he told George’s mother that Elizabeth Norwood had committed. It had been enough to garner attention at court.

  Phillip couldn’t have dismissed the worries of George’s mother without a proper investigation.

  The timing left a lot to be desired.

  Phillip definitely wasn’t offering up that Elizabeth was now more than simply a person of interest to him—after that unexpected kiss and her mention of mates.

  He was eager for any further excuse to bring Elizabeth back to court, but not at the expense of her reputation.

  Rumours could bury the entire Norwood family quicker than William throwing an earth tantrum in a gravel pit.

  “A demon? Of course not, Prince William,” answered the real demon.

  There were a hundred others like him now, although this particular fire-demon was one of the originals. He was considered more powerful for his experience.

  It was a surprise that he hadn’t stayed in the army. He had briefly enjoyed the rank of being a fire-general during the clan wars, when the king had been desperate for power to support his armies. The demon had disappeared a few years later.

  It wasn’t a desertion—from what Phillip had checked—but the suddenness of quitting his post had raised questions. It was said to be linked to the downfall of the Norwood family.

  “Then, what are you saying?” Phillip asked.

  He sounded impatient, which anyone that knew him well would realize was remarkable for being unusual, and thus, a warning. He was tolerant of many things, but something about this demon rubbed him wrong.

  The demon pushed the limits of politeness, foregoing answering quickly by delaying his response to prepare his tea. He added some sugar and milk to his cup before gesturing to a servant to pour him more tea.

  Usually, they would take care of dispensing tea themselves, neither prince much for fawning servants.

  George’s mother wouldn’t believe they had taken her concerns seriously enough unless the gossips told her that her witness was thoroughly questioned. Hence, this show in front of the servants.

  Phillip didn’t know how his father did it, balancing the demands of all of the clans and his extended family.

  “This is a waste of time, Phil. Dismiss the demon to the castle guards and let them take turns questioning him. Perhaps a few broken bones will teach his tongue better than to make up lies,” William said, throwing his napkin on the table in a crumpled ball.

  Phillip’s brothers didn’t share his patience.

  George might be the closest in terms of waiting, playing the long game, but he didn’t do it because of tolerance. He was one cold bastard.

  If someone got on George’s bad side, he would plot their demise one painfully slow step at a time.

  “I swear to you that it’s no lie. It’s not the first time that little bitch stole magic that didn’t belong to her,” the demon said.
<
br />   He smoothly stirred his tea and spoke in such quiet, cultured tones, despite his foul accusation.

  The demon hadn’t twitched a single nervous muscle at William’s threat.

  “Witches cannot be demons,” Phillip patiently stated.

  He blew on his tea. It was a little too hot after hearing the demon’s derogatory name for Elizabeth. There was a stench in the air that he couldn’t quite name, but it definitely emanated from the demon.

  “She was born unnatural. Her parents refused to listen to good healers before it was too late. Especially, her grasping, social climber of a mother. Marrying into a noble family wasn’t good enough for Kaila. She had always wanted a royal title for one of her daughters.”

  Some of what the demon said was in line with William’s accusations.

  William had hated Kaila Norwood, making no secret of it. He placed equal blame on all the Norwood ladies for what had happened to their family.

  The poisonings were especially damning.

  Jill Norwood—with earth—would still be too young and unlikely to have the knowledge or experience to concoct the potion used in the poisoning by herself.

  It had been strong enough to cut them all down at the knees, but attenuated, so none of them died. An advanced potion that no green witch could pull off alone.

  “Kaila Norwood has plenty of motive, “ William agreed with the demon.

  Phillip was going to withhold judgement until the lady witch had been allowed to speak in her own defence.

  “Her eldest daughter was too weak of a witch to do anyone harm, however,” William added, bringing them back to Elizabeth and the demon’s original accusation.

  That wasn’t what William had been saying earlier. He’d implied that Elizabeth was as involved in the attack on the royal family as her mother.

  It was only Jill who William excused as more of a coerced victim of her family’s schemes.

  Although Phillip hadn’t gotten to know Jill that well, he had to concur she wasn’t likely the evil mastermind behind this plot. She had been sweet, and if he wasn’t mistaken—which he rarely was with females—an innocent.

  “Didn’t your background check uncover anything before you let the Norwoods into the castle?” the demon asked.

  He specifically gave Phillip an arched brow, sipping more tea after lobbying that accusation of incompetence.