Blood Tithe (The Lost Cove Darklings Book 2)

by Bekah Harris

  Felicity bit back a long string of expletives that wouldn’t help the situation. She needed to concentrate. “I’m going to use my magic to get these off. Hold super still.”

  “You got it,” Raven said.

  Felicity grabbed the iron shackle, cursing when it burned her. She laughed, though the sound was without humor. Of course, they would shackle her friend with the one material that was toxic to Fae. Letting go, she carefully pushed her magic outward, trying desperately to hit only the cuff and not Raven’s skin. Slowly, the iron began to heat until it popped open. Raven’s arm dropped like a cement block. Most likely, she couldn’t feel it. Felicity scrambled to her other side and did the same. Once both arms were free, she helped Raven to her feet and crossed the room to free Alice.

  Whimpering, Alice pushed herself further into the corner until Raven and Felicity jerked her to her feet. Shaking her, Raven whispered harshly to her.

  “If you ever want to see Campbell again, snap the fuck out of it! We have to get out of here.”

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Tristen and Ardan will cover us.”

  “Ardan?” Raven whispered.

  “Later,” Felicity said. There was no time for explanations.

  She ducked under Alice’s other arm and started toward the hole in the room that led directly outside. No point in going around.

  “Wait,” Raven said. “There’s something else you have to see.”

  Raven pointed to the darkest corner beside the broken wall. Letting go of Alice, Felicity shone her light into the darkness. There, stuck to the wall like some crucified martyr was a cloaked creature. Iron daggers held it to the walls through its shoulders. Felicity cringed, her ribs caving in on her lungs.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, turning away. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Raven nodded. “We can’t just leave him...or her.”

  Raven was right. Of course she was. Felicity approached the creature, half-fascinated, half-terrified. The Magi were ancient creatures devoted to protecting Faerie. They were sacred, like angels or prophets. To see one tortured and used in such a way sent a ripple of fury that screamed at her to seek vengeance. Kneeling down beside it, Felicity swallowed, gathering her courage.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” she whispered, “but this is going to hurt.”

  The only response she received was a nod. The Magi had no visible face, the only indication it was alive the measured breaths that caused the low-hanging hood of the cloak to tremble. Taking a deep breath, Felicity pressed the creature’s arm into the wall with one hand. With the other, she gripped the dagger.

  “Okay, on the count of three,” she said, fighting off a wave of nausea. “One. Two. Three.”

  With all the strength she possessed, Felicity pulled the dagger, ignoring the burn of iron against her palm. One side fell free. She moved to the other doing the same. When both of the Magi’s shoulders were free, she gripped the creature under the arms and pulled. The body she lifted was bony and frail, light like a bird. Once lifted, the Magi braced and steadied itself on its feet. The creature made no sound. There was no cry of pain or surprise. No thanks. Just silence.

  “Come with us,” Felicity said.

  Again, there was only a nod.

  Felicity slipped into the cool night, using her magic to force the hail from her severe storm away from them. She spotted Tristen and Ardan in the distance, both of them fighting back to back against the dwindling numbers of Laltogs, many of whom had turned away as the storm raged on.

  “When I say go, make a run for it,” Felicity said. Stay behind Tristen and Ardan.” Felicity counted silently to three. “Go!”

  Once Raven and Alice had darted forth, Felicity grabbed the Magi’s frail wrist and sprinted through the darkness, rain pelting her in the face as she went. Once she was within five feet of Tristen, he darted toward her, wrapping her in his arms. When he looked up, his eyes slid toward the Magi, and he questioned her with raised brows.

  “They really stole a Magi,” Felicity confirmed.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ardan yelled.

  Raven dug her heels in. Alice too. “Not without Dante and Campbell! I’m not leaving without them.”

  “Raven, you don’t have a choice,” Tristen said. “It’s too late. We have to get out of here. We can’t hold them off much longer.”

  Raven went colder than Felicity had ever seen her. “I don’t give a flying fuck who you are. I am not leaving without Dante or Campbell. It’s my fault he’s here. Do you understand that?”

  “I do,” Tristen said. “I really do, but it’s my job to protect the humans in Lost Cove. And Dante would never forgive me if I could have gotten you out and didn’t.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  Felicity turned to see Ardan watching them, still lashing out with Unseelie magic. “I’ll stay, and I’ll find them, no matter what condition. I’ll bring them back to Lost Cove. I swear it.”

  “And why should I trust you?” Raven snapped.

  “Because this is Ardan, King Consort of the Winter Court.”

  Raven raised her brows, probably not processing any of it. “Then, I’m staying too.”

  “No,” Tristen said, “you’re not.”

  Without another word, he picked Raven up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her as she kicked and punched and pulled and screamed. He sprinted back into the darkness the way they had come. Felicity took Alice’s hand and dragged her along behind Tristen, and the Magi followed.

  The sounds of battle ensued behind them, and in the distance Felicity could see the shimmer of the veil in the moonlight, the flaps from where they’d ripped it whipping and snapping in the wind like a flag.

  Without slowing, Tristen ducked through, and Felicity followed, feeling the familiar static tingle as she slipped across the barrier. Ardan remained on the other side. Giving him a final look, Felicity whirled on her heel and sealed the wards back together, as if stitching a broken hem. Exhausted, she dropped to all fours, panting before rolling onto her back and closing her eyes. When she opened them, Raven was towering over her, glaring with tear-filled eyes.

  “I will never forgive you for this,” she said.

  Felicity felt the words stab into her heart and twist. “I know,” she whispered. “And that’s something I’m going to have to live with.”

  Chapter 25

  Tristen led their unlikely group through the castle of sleeping Laltogs, climbing stairs and winding through hallways until they reached his father’s study. Once inside, he lit the sconces on the wall.

  “Where have you been?” The voice echoed through the cavernous room.

  Luca stood in the shadows, glaring at him.

  “I’ve been searching for hours,” Luca said. “None of us had any idea where you were. Do you know how worried your father has been. I swear, I don’t--”

  Luca stopped short when his eyes fell on Alice and scanned the group. They widened when they landed on the Magi.

  “You’ll be safe in here,” Tristen said to the group, noting their worried expressions as they looked around the King’s study. “Luca, please go get my father. No one else.”

  After Luca quietly left the room, Tristen leaned against his father’s desk, really taking in the group. They all wore the stories of a hard-fought battle. Raven was covered in dirt, her grimy face streaked with tears. Felicity’s hair was a mess of tangles, her skin marred here and there with dirt and shallow scratches. Alice looked thin and frail, her dark skin pallid against her braids. The white shirt of her uniform was soiled and torn, the knee socks ripped and stained with blood from a struggle. And the Magi—Tristen could smell its potent blood, which filled the room with a rich, decadent aroma that risked waking the other Laltogs. Now that the adrenaline of their escape had subsided, he was hyper-aware of the scent, which sent the animalistic need rippling through him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought against the sensation, but all he could see, all he could think was how the Magi would t
aste.

  “Nan, I’m going to need you to stop the bleeding,” he said through clenched teeth.

  He tried to be as calm and reserved as possible, but he knew his fangs were visible beneath his lips, his eyes glowing red with hunger. Understanding, she nodded and hurried toward the ever-silent Magi, unbuckling the supply belt she had worn for the rescue. The only sign of life was the slight fluttering of the creature’s low-hanging hood as it stood motionless as death beside the wall of bookshelves. To Tristen’s knowledge, no one had ever seen a Magi without its cloak, and judging by the cadaverous hands not covered by the silken fabric, Tristen didn’t want to be among the first. Even when Nan pressed the antiseptic against the Magi’s wounds, it didn’t utter a sound, like one who was accustomed to tolerating pain, and for a moment, he wondered just how much a Magi could even feel.

  A deep sigh interrupted his thoughts.

  Felicity was watching Raven, her face a mask of despair. Tristen hurt for her. They had made a decision, overridden her best friend’s free will. Raven’s arms were folded, her entire body shifted away from Felicity. It would be a long time before there was forgiveness, especially if something happened to Dante. Tristen hoped Ardan’s arrogant vow wasn’t merely for show. Conceited as the bastard was, he was powerful, capable of reaching Dante and Campbell and getting them out, unless it was too late by the time he reached them.

  With only a faint clicking as warning, his father burst through the door, followed by Luca. King Fhaescratch was dressed in velvet robes, his eyes dark with exhaustion. He took in the battered group before him, his eyes widening as he took in the Magi. Nostrils flaring, his fangs elongated just before turning his head and closing his eyes. Tristen knew his father had been hit by the odor of the Magi’s blood, and even for him, it was difficult to ignore. When he finally regained control of himself, he wheeled toward Tristen.

  “Explain.”

  So Tristen told him about infiltrating the Vampire camp, about ripping the wards and the way his royal blood had worked with it to break down the barrier. Though he left out the part about Ardan, he explained about Raven and Dante, Campbell and Alice, the small army of fledgling vampires. Then, he gestured toward the Magi.

  “It’s how they were keeping the wards up,” Tristen said. “It’s why Felicity couldn’t break them down on her own. It took my blood to even manage a rip in them.”

  Fhaescratch was silent for a time, pacing in front of the window as he often did. The room was silent, no one daring to speak, as his father considered all they had told him. Felicity gave him a questioning glance, but Tristen quickly shook his head. Now was not the time for anyone to speak.

  “So, you left Dante and Campbell in the hands of these fledgling vampires?” he finally asked.

  “Yes,” Tristen said.

  Raven made a low sound of disapproval, her arms still crossed, and Alice continued to cry silent tears, her knees pulled into her chest.

  “And you left an army of fledgling vampires in their hidden realm without bringing even one back for questioning?”

  Darkness settled over Tristen, his heart pounding. He knew what the eventual outcome of the conversation would be. There was no point in fighting it. “Yes.”

  “You didn’t think it might be a good idea to take at least one prisoner so that we could figure out who is behind this corruption?”

  “I did what I thought was best in the moment,” Tristen said. “I thought the Magi would be enough.”

  Fhaescratch laughed, the sound of it maniacal. “You thought the Magi would be enough? And did anyone inform you that the Magi speak in insipid riddles that could take days and maybe even weeks to decode?”

  Tristen met his father’s murderous eyes, the dark energy pouring from him and filling the air around them. He had helped rescue two Lost Cove humans, solved the mystery of the missing students, found an abducted Magi, and managed to break the wards Fhaescratch had wanted to break only hours earlier. Was Ardan right? Was Fhaescratch behind this, as the Fae feared? Rage scorched through him, and words flew from his mouth unchecked.

  “I was trying to save my friends!” Tristen said, raising his voice. “I was trying to save at least two humans we’re sworn to protect. And of course, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that the Magi speak only in riddles. I was thinking that you might want to know there was a Magi trapped in Lost Cove! Unless you already knew!”

  The last word had barely flown from his mouth when he felt the first blow. Just as he registered the pain in one cheek, his father pulled back his other hand and struck his other cheek with his open palm, razor sharp fingernails slicing his flesh. He felt the warm blood ooze from his skin and trickle down his face. Before he could respond in turn, Fhaescratch was an inch from his face.

  “You are a Darkling Royal!” his father growled. “You are not allowed the luxury of friends! And do not presume to hurl veiled accusations at me, you ungrateful little traitor. Son or not, blood or not, I will destroy anyone who rises against me. And rest assured, it is not I who is raising hidden armies in the forest, but whoever is behind it, they are planning to unseat me. And if that happens, you will lose everything you have, as well. You’d be wise to remember it.”

  Tristen was about to return the threat when a bright light sent him stumbling a few feet backward. Holding his hands up against it, he squinted. Felicity’s entire body had erupted with blue light. Every ounce of her wrath was trained on Fhaescratch.

  “Touch him again, and see what happens,” Felicity warned.

  Slowly, Fhaescratch turned, his eyes like red fire. He bared his fangs, which elongated even more, his nails growing longer and sharper than before. And Felicity wasn’t backing down.

  Shit.

  Felicity was about to attack a Darkling royal. If she harmed Fhaescratch, she would be executed. He had to stop her.

  Tristen should have hesitated. He should have considered the repercussions of his actions. Loyalty. Family. Blood. Motto.

  He didn’t.

  As Fhaescratch lowered himself into a crouch, his intentions clearly to attack Felicity, Tristen dove toward Felicity to move her out of his father’s path.

  Pain exploded through his body as he collided with Felicity, her electric magic zapping through him like a power surge. Searing static crackled through him with a shock, but he managed to roll to his feet, crouching in front of her. He faced his father with bared fangs, the low growl of warning erupting from him without consciously willing it.

  Tristen had chosen. He had betrayed his father, his family, his coven for Felicity.

  And there would be consequences.

  Chapter 26

  Felicity reined her magic back in, staring in open-mouthed shock at what had just happened. She was ready to risk everything for Tristen, and then, he had risked everything for her.

  This was about more than blood. It had to be.

  Tristen crouched before his father, the two of them mad enough to kill each other, putting himself between her and the king’s wrath. In that moment, her anger gave way to fear, and her fear gave way to something...more.

  Was it love?

  Possessiveness?

  Extreme lust?

  She concluded it was probably all three, but whatever this feeling was, Fhaescratch was not going to take it from her before she could fully understand it. She wouldn’t let him hurt Tristen again. There was no way. Gathering her magic in her chest, she pushed it outward, feeling the power tingle over her skin. She’d call upon the elements, too, if necessary.

  Then, to her surprise, Raven stood to her feet and stood with them, Alice following her. Nan stood beside them, straightening her spine and jutting out her chin in defiance. Luca looked back and forth between Tristen and Fhaescratch, clearly torn between his Prince and his King. But when his eyes settled on Alice, Felicity had no doubt where his loyalties were. He moved beside Tristen, crouching in front of Alice. Fhaescratch’s fury grew to a tangible thing, crackling in the air around them like a gathering
storm. He was among the original Laltogs. He could kill them all if he chose. But in an already divided kingdom, five dead bodies, his son among them, would be too much to explain. Before either side made a move, a raspy voice broke the silence.

  Darklings fight for freedom lost

  As human bodies reap the cost.

  Laltog blood their blood replace

  To make a brand new Darkling race.

  Sides divide and war will harken

  All the creatures whose souls are darkened.

  But Seelie heir long undiscovered

  Will take her place with crown recovered

  And strife shall take, shall kill, destroy

  Before prophecies give way to joy.

  What must be shall be forevermore

  By blood shall right all be restored.

  As the Magi spoke, Fhaescratch slowly straightened. He turned toward the creature until his back was to the small band of usurpers no longer worth his energy. The Magi repeated its riddle, over and over like a crazed familiar that made her think of Renfield from the famous Stoker novel. Felicity listened to the words, some of the references obvious, like the new Darkling race and a looming war.

  It was a prophecy, and from what little she knew about the Magi, some of them could see into the future and predict outcomes. But the rest of the strange rhyme eluded her.

  But Seelie heir long undiscovered

  Will take her place with crown recovered

  But strife shall take, shall kill, destroy

  Before prophecies give way to joy.

  She was considering what in the actual fuck that meant when she felt eyes on her. When she looked up, Fhaescratch was staring at her with the strangest expression. His gaze flickered between her and Tristen, as if something occurred to him he hadn’t considered before.

  Which couldn’t be good.

  She glanced at Nan, whose expression was settled on her with curiosity and worry. But the rhyme continued, the same verses repeated over and over and over. Was it the pain? Torture? Had the vampires inflicted so much pain, the poor creature was cracked?