by Iris Walker
Pax studied her face for a brief moment before sighing. “Now you’re making me look bad.”
“You didn’t make it that difficult,” she shot back.
“Fine,” he growled, grabbing his coat.
Reykon
Shit, Reykon thought, a split second before razor sharp claws raked the ground. A flash of black fur streamed out from the shadows, hot breath and vicious white fangs sailing through the air with a powerful kick. He spun out, dodging most of the massive wolf, but catching a paw full of claws with his shoulder.
Reykon grunted and clenched his jaw as flames of pain raced up his side. He managed to crouch just as the wolf recovered, kicking off the back wall and barreling towards him.
He truly hated fighting wolves.
It was unfair, really, as they had every single advantage, from size to speed to scare factor. But he’d done it before, and he was determined to do it again; not that there was an alternative.
The vial was in his pack and he let the bag fall to the ground next to him. Reykon dug his feet in and braced for the impact, as five hundred pounds of muscled fur slammed into him.
He hit the wall hard enough to crack stone, calling the raw power imbued in his body to surface. His arms raged red as he drove his fist right into the wolf’s nose.
It didn’t do any real damage, but it gave Reykon just enough time to pull the dagger out of his pocket and drive it deep into the wolf’s ribs. A bellow of pain sounded out, and the wolf snarled, sinking its teeth deep into Reykon’s arm and using it as a chew toy.
Pain shot through him, sharp and jarring, but he couldn’t give up the high ground. Reykon yanked the dagger out and shoved it in twice more, until the wolf was panting on the ground, deep red streaking its fur. Reykon groaned, staggering for his pack just as more reinforcements arrived. He was losing blood fast but managed to dodge the bullets and kick open the exit door. He’d left the car running, a navy SUV with sleek white lights, packed with supplies taken from Landon’s own ridiculously unguarded stores.
Bullets pinged past him just as he slammed the door shut. His right arm was thoroughly mangled, and it wasn’t going to heal anytime soon, so he reached over and flipped it into drive with his left, peeling out and leaving smoke in his trail.
Chapter 8 Answers
Robin
They were crowded in a large office, with various artifacts in glass cases that looked like they should have been in museums.
“Fausta Ambrose,” Darian muttered, anger simmering below the surface.
Robin saw blood in his eyes; not literally, but it was as though his thoughts were dancing around the subject, hungry for this treacherous woman.
“Who is she?” Robin asked.
“A very powerful vampire master,” Darian answered, ticking his head to the side. “She has a penchant for violence and submission and has an appetite for power that would startle most dictators. I first met her in her early days. We were in eastern Europe at that point, and I’d known the vampire that turned her from our time in Greece, during its day and age. He described her to me as a temperamental girl that would soften out eventually.”
“Evidently not,” Ezra said, wiping the back of his bloodied hand with a silk handkerchief.
“How did she launch an attack so quickly?” Harley asked, her emerald eyes flaring.
“Cain Demonte. They were conspiring about something, but I assumed it had to do with the growing caster presence at House Demonte. It’s part of the reason I chose to allocate my resources and strengthen strategic houses for our people before all this happened. I sensed that something would snap, but never to this scale. And I hadn’t anticipated Cain to betray his own leader; he’d never seemed so… bold.”
Robin shuddered at the memory of Cain. She could still feel his iron grip on her arms, his nose, too close to her neck.
Ezra’s eyes flicked over to hers. “There’s more, about Robin.”
“What?” Darian asked.
“They had orders to take her alive, and bring her to her new Master, Cain. He evidently believes he has some claim to her because Magnus had her commissioned to their House.”
“I’m sure he thinks so,” Robin muttered, an acidic taste creeping into her mouth.
“They knew she was in our possession?” Darian asked.
“They knew that somebody had her. They were certain that the casters hadn’t found her yet, and Fausta and Cain offered an elite position in their administration to anybody that could deliver her to them.”
“So they were after me, and happened to get lucky in finding Robin,” Darian hummed, fingers steepled against his lips.
“Do they know what I can do?” she asked.
“Word travels fast,” Harley said. “My guess is the whole world – well, our world – knows that wherever you go, vampires lose their teeth.”
“Oh,” she said, a pit growing in her gut.
“Cain likely wants you as a cushion to his pride. He seemed quite discontent after you and Reykon Thraxos left so abruptly,” Darian added. “If there’s one thing he doesn’t tolerate, it’s rejection.”
“I’m aware,” Robin said, voice sharp and cutting. Her thoughts turned back to Calliope’s words, desperate and ragged, regarding their meeting and the urgency with which it had to happen. Her heart began pounding, faster and faster, as the worry crept in. She didn’t miss the cautious glance Darian shot her way, burning eyes drilling into her.
He could hear everything, smell everything, most likely. Every change in her body, every emotion that raced through her, and every hint of fear that crept up on her. So could Ezra, for that matter.
“I’m fine,” she said sharply. “I just don’t like being a sitting duck, especially when both the casters and the vampires are gunning for my head.”
“They won’t kill you,” Charlemagne hummed. “Too much potential for investment.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Robin countered, her eyes flaring in an angry scowl. “If anything, that’s even worse.”
“This is as safe a place as any, for now,” Darian said. His voice was neutral, his eyes focused on the desk ahead of him. He looked like he was playing chess, or at least planning a move. Robin scowled and focused her eyes on his, which raced over possibility after possibility. “You must stay hidden, until we have a better handle on your abilities. It’s for the good of us all.”
Her eyebrows twitched together, slightly, a wave of frustration rising. Her priority was finding Calliope, though Darian didn’t know about the visions they’d been having. Certainly, if he did, he’d caution her against it. Or worse, she thought, glancing to Harley.
She’d been a prisoner when she’d first woken up, though it had certainly been dressed up as a luxurious retreat. But she had no doubts that if it suited his needs, Darian would truly lock her up, somewhere that nobody would find her. “Fine,” she said, keeping her voice level.
Something crossed Darian’s face, and his eyes snapped to hers, piercing her and keeping her there in that infuriating magnetic gaze.
She’d never been a good liar. In fact, she was crap at poker. But she was an even worse liar being mentally flayed apart by an ancient vampire’s burning gaze. Robin steeled herself and crossed her arms. “For now,” she added.
Darian raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I will ponder our next steps and reach out to our members to determine our position in all of this.”
Harley and Charlemagne filtered out of the room, along with Ezra, and Robin turned, heading for the door, feeling Darian’s eyes on her the whole time. Just as she stepped across the threshold, his voice made her freeze mid-step. “Robin?”
She turned, trying her best to utilize Lucidia’s mask of stone.
“Stay close, my dear. These are dangerous, dangerous times.”
Robin watched his red eyes for only a moment longer before breaking the gaze and walking into the hallway, closing the massive door behind her.
Lucidia
�
��A Starbucks?” she asked with a scowl. Thick black sunglasses rested on her face, and she wore a tight-cut leather jacket with her usual black pants, stretchy enough to crack some skulls if need be.
“We’re just using the free, anonymous Wi-Fi,” Pax said, glancing around. His wiry blond hair had once been short cropped, but now had grown out of its cut, and was beginning to become unruly.
Without even thinking about it, Pax and Lucidia cased the building, identifying each exit, each obstacle, and every angle for a fight. They both moved for a table in the corner, equidistant from the front door and the back employee’s area, where another exit would be.
Pax pulled out a slim laptop and set it up in front of them, typing a few things in before pulling up a website.
Refurbished Vinyl Record Enthusiasts?
“What is this?” she asked, scowling at the blog.
“It’s a fake website, but it’ll lead us to a chat room. That’s how we contact.”
“Someone broke into the magical mind radio to direct you to a used records website?”
“It was exactly as strange as it sounds,” Pax chuckled.
“I bet,” she muttered, watching as his fingers flew across the keyboard. He typed a short message, read it over, and then pressed enter.
Looking to buy a refurbished vinyl record, but I don’t have a place to play it. Heard through the grapevine that you’re my guy?
Pax nodded, and sat back.
“What now?”
He glanced at her with a smirk. “Now, we wait.”
Not really her strong suit.
She and Pax made light conversation, talking about different events that they’d heard about, or that they’d missed out on. She allowed herself a moment of enjoyment; it had been a long, long time since she’d had casual conversation with somebody from her home. She’d never admit it, but Lucidia was about as close to homesickness as she could get. After about an hour of staring at a blank screen, the computer dinged, and she looked at the reply.
We might have an option for you. How far are you willing to travel to meet and chat about it?
“As far as it takes,” Pax mumbled, typing it in.
Almost instantaneously, the computer beeped again.
Gotcha. Let me see.
“What does that mean?” Lucidia asked.
“The webcam’s going to activate,” he said, pointing to the camera at the top of the screen.
“I need to talk to the guardian angel, or whoever the hell.”
“There’s a system-”
“I don’t give a damn about your system,” Lucidia growled, pulling the computer her way and typing out a message.
I have an urgent question about your records. Need someone to get in touch with, ASAP. Time sensitive, number is…
She double checked the number on her burner and typed it in, cracking her knuckles and sitting back with a sigh.
A bright light twinkled at the top of the screen.
“There’s the camera,” Pax said.
Lucidia scowled at it and pushed her sunglasses up on her head.
A moment later, her phone rang, the display showing an unknown caller.
She flipped it open and sat back with her arms crossed. “Hello?”
“Never thought I’d be happy to see your ugly mug on my computer. Miss me, princess?” Maxine’s cocky voice sounded out.
Robin
After trying in vain to catch some shut eye, Robin found herself wandering the hallways of Darian’s tropical getaway at 11:30 p.m., in the moonlight and shadow.
Many things upset her about the information they’d received.
Cain, for one.
A special breed of hatred was reserved for the likes of him. She could still picture the hungry look in his burning red eyes when he’d stopped her and Reykon in the middle of the walkway.
She thought back to that time, when she’d been so angry at him, and he’d had to drag her out of prison. A small smile danced on her lips. After getting to know Darian and being exposed to the vampire power hierarchy on a more personal level, she now understood that what she’d mistaken for weakness on Reykon’s part was actually rebellion. He should never have spoken out against Cain but he’d done it anyway.
God, she’d had no clue about their world, even at that point.
Robin held onto the memories of him, the feeling of his body on hers, both of them entangled in the rough sheets of the boat cabin, wishing she could just call out in her mind and find him, or whisper that she was alright.
To see if he was alright.
Where are you? she thought, glancing over to the window, at the starry sky.
She felt a pulse of heat on her arm, directly in front of her, and she raised an eyebrow, walking up to an iron door.
Before she could stop herself, she opened it and stepped down the stone staircase. A custom addition to the celebrity’s mansion? she wondered with biting humor.
She made it to the lower floor and stepped into a small chamber.
The only figure was in a thick iron chair, chained to the max, hanging his head. Blood covered him, though all his wounds had healed. He looked gaunt and exhausted, no doubt from whatever horrors Ezra had unleashed on him. Robin stepped forward, her bare feet crunching softly against the dirt.
The vampire whipped his head up with a snarl, fangs bared.
A shockwave of adrenaline flooded her system, and she felt the wave of dizziness race over her, but quickly regained control.
The vile vampire hissed, neck muscles corded to try to get closer. “Just… just a taste,” he begged, his eyes wide with desperation.
“Not a chance,” she said softly. All fear had faded, replaced by controlled anger and burning curiosity.
The vampire in front of her had brown hair, medium length, and a thin, tall frame. Even with the apparent lack of muscle, she could feel how powerful he was. Looks were deceiving, after all, dealing with vampires.
“What do you know about me?” she asked, venturing another step closer.
“Blood, please!” he screamed. “I’ve never smelled anything so good.”
Robin scowled. “What?”
“So good… I need a taste!”
Evidently that was the magical influence she had.
Great, Robin thought. Calliope had turned her into a steaming steak and served her up on a platter for all the vampires to attack. And now, she was convincing Robin that they needed to meet.
Trying to take advantage of her.
Stupid, Robin thought. How could she fall into the trap of trusting Calliope? It was exactly what the caster wanted. Calliope probably thought she was just a stupid little girl, wandering around, scared of her shadow. She hadn’t felt any signs of damage before, and she’d nearly blown up the whole castle.
“Tell you what,” she murmured, keeping a watchful eye on the despicable creature in front of her. “You answer my questions, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
The vampire was panting in front of her, eyes ragged, and he jerked his head in a nod.
Robin ventured a step closer and let out a long breath. “What did they tell you about me?”
He strained against the chains, but twisted his head, forcing himself to think. “We knew that you had powers… that you killed everybody at Demonte.”
“I didn’t kill them,” she corrected.
“You did,” he snarled, shaking his arms again.
“I did not. But I did turn them into humans.”
He scowled, his red eyes flaring with concern.
“What were your orders for me?” Robin continued.
“Alive,” he pushed out, fangs glinting in the firelight. “You were to be alive, brought straight to Cain.”
“Why?”
“Because you belong to him,” the vampire returned, malicious eyes hovering over her.
A metallic taste coated her mouth and she grimaced in disgust. “I don’t belong to him, or anybody else.”
The vampire hung his
head and laughed, shaking his chains with the motion.
“I do not,” Robin seethed.
“Wrong,” he countered, malice burning in his eyes.
Robin felt a wave of heat rise up inside of her, fueled by hatred and a need for power. Her hand stretched out before she even knew what she was doing.
Even five feet away, she felt her energy pierce the vampire, right at that spot above his heart, where the core of life pulsed within him. She squeezed slowly, drawing the energy out of him.
The vampire let out a groan, his face contorted in pain and anguish, blood dripping from his nose. “Stop,” he moaned, muscles slackening in the chains. “Stop!”
Robin released him and flexed her fingers, watching the low red burn pulse across her skin.
She’d only taken a little.
Just like they do, she thought with private satisfaction. She’d dipped into his force, taking what she wanted, and leaving him lesser for it.
“What are they planning to do once they find me?” Robin asked, keeping her tone neutral.
The vampire slumped in his chair, gasping for breath. “I- I don’t know.”
“Not good enough,” Robin said, raising her hand once more.
“They just… they said that they’d use you against the others. They said you’d be the punisher.”
Robin felt a sharp laugh escape her lips. “They think I’ll just sign on board?”
He shuddered, taking another massive gulp of air. “Please, no more.”
Robin looked at the pitiful form in front of her, bleeding from his nose, his eyes, and shaking in the chair. “I want you to admit it,” she said.
“What?” he croaked.
“Admit that they don’t own me,” she repeated, her own eyes fierce with determination.
A burst of rage shot across his face; that same burst that she’d experienced in the hands of Magnus, when she was helpless and weak. “You’re nothing but a mortal. The casters might have fucked you bloody with their magic, but that’s all you are! They’ll always own you,” he snarled, spittle and blood flying out of his mouth.
She let out a growl of fury and squeezed her hand, drawing more and more out of him, watching the red flicker in his eyes, until he was blubbering, blood pooling on the floor around him.