“No … ,” came the woman's response, followed by a moment of silence before she rasped, “Help me.”
“Okay, just hold on,” Isadora agreed, and immediately turned to the locks.
Without a key, there would be no chance of opening the crate without using brute force, or witchcraft—and Isadora knew several spells that would easily open such simple devices.
The only question was whether the spells would work.
After all, her inability to clearly sense what was inside the crate was a good indication that someone had used magic to shield the contents. This could mean the locks were also magically sealed, and if the magic was powerful, it would take time to counter.
So she grasped a lock in hand and closed her eyes, quietly chanting words in Latin to channel energy. The entire time, she hoped a spell requiring specific components wasn't needed, otherwise she'd never open the lid before one of the crewmen found her.
But it turned out to be unnecessary. After several moments of chanting, her words built an energy that flowed through her hands and into the locks, causing a click to sound that was echoed by the other latches opening, and Isadora smiled. Guess the magic wasn't so powerful after all.
Freeing the first, she repeated the process until the lid could be opened, wondering all the while where her fae sisters were—they could help transport the woman inside past all of the humans present.
Not that she wondered for long. Instead, her thoughts came to a screeching halt after removing the lid, unleashing a putrid stench that almost toppled her over.
Gasping, Isadora raised a hand to her mouth and nose, nearly gagging over the foul scent coming from the … coffin?
Peering down over her hand, her eyes widened to see the decaying body of a woman with long, white hair resting upon numerous sheets of green silk. The shimmering material was also wrapped around her body, and judging by the folds, someone had gone to great lengths to make certain she was comfortable.
The only other item she wore was a silver pendant with a gleaming, iridescent crystal attached to the chain. Questionably, several letters were etched into the ring of metal encompassing the gem, and though Isadora was fluent in numerous languages, this one escaped her.
But the most baffling part of all was that, despite her corpse-like appearance, this woman was certainly alive, breathing and staring up with a strangely excited glint dawning in her blue eyes.
Perhaps it was her physical state, but that look was unnerving, particularly when she lifted a gnarled hand and rasped on a gravelly tone, “You'll help me.”
Those words didn't sound like a request, but Isadora didn't rebuke them. Instead, as her gaze returned to the decrepit woman's pendant, the crystal flashed and a strange compulsion to obey arose, proving the old woman right—she would help.
As if the thought had struck with physical force, Isadora blacked out.
— TWO —
Dra'Kai Estate, Atlanta, Georgia
One Week Later
For a vampire, moving at lightning speeds wasn't a problem. Yet Mathias found the feat next to impossible to accomplish with a dying fae in his arms.
In the form of mist, he exited an open window of the Dra'Kai Estate and rushed over the grounds, never once considering why he was moving so fast. Instead, he was too focused on the fact that if the fae he carried wasn't taken into nature as fast as possible, the dagger jutting from her lower chest would cause her demise.
It was simply a stroke of fortune that the expansive estate he'd visited that night was shrouded by woods—though the trip to the nearest grove still seemed to take forever.
Arriving in what he hoped was a suitable spot, he materialized next to a tree and settled the unconscious fae in the grass. By then, her lips were pale and her head lolled lifelessly, making it seem as if she was already gone.
But Mathias could still detect a faint pulse, and paused only to pull the blade free of her chest before backing away as soon as she was on the ground.
Tossing the dagger aside, he stared at the fae, thinking she looked so fragile that leaving her alone seemed like a bad idea. But ensuring her survival meant allowing nature to run its course without interference, and that aside, he posed just as much of a threat to her survival as her injury—resisting the temptation of fae blood was almost impossible for most vampires.
And Mathias had more than one reason to desire a taste of this one's.
Not half an hour ago, he'd arrived at the estate of a friend he hadn't seen in over seventy years, and not just for a reunion. Mathias also hoped Dalris would have an update on the new vampire Order of Nightfall, yet his old friend wasn't home.
Instead, Dalris' sister, Victoria, was managing his affairs. So Mathias opted to speak with her, and during his wait, two fae wandering the halls inside the estate captured his full attention.
An encounter with any fae was a rare event, specifically for a vampire, compelling Mathias to investigate further. Doing so revealed something strange and unprecedented, and he had no idea what to think.
After breaking into a display case in Dalris' private gallery, one of the fae stabbed her sister in the chest. That's when Victoria entered the room, showing concern by calling the injured female's name—Isadora.
The draconian asked what had happened, but Mathias could barely process her request. Instead, as blood seeped from Isadora's chest, he'd detected a blood link, which was strange in itself. Typically, blood links were found only in mortals, alerting a vampire that turning the human would forge a significant relationship. Some became siblings while others were more like children.
But of all the possibilities, the blood link of a lover provided the strongest connection, offering the vampire in question benefits and detriments alike. A lover could feed from their partner, even as a vampire, and the blood was always richer.
However, killing one meant the others' demise.
To determine the type of relationship, younger vampires had to taste the blood in question. But Mathias could sense it without taking that step—and somehow, this fae was a lover.
The mere concept was baffling.
In five thousand years, he'd never once heard of such a pairing as the one Isadora presented. Humans, elves, barbarians, and even lupines had all been blooded, but fae?
Their kind would never survive it.
Nevertheless, the blood now staining her shirt was practically screaming the word lover at him, making its already alluring scent that much more tantalizing. Such was the reason he took so many steps back, fighting for control while watching to see if the earth would heal her.
Yet, no matter where he went, the delectable scent of her blood seemed to follow, remaining as strong as if he were standing right next to her.
The notion seemed odd until he looked down to realize his clothing and hands were stained red from carrying Isadora into the grove. Instantly, his gaze locked on the crimson marring his palms, an enticing droplet rolling down one wrist and into the cuff of his sleeve.
His mouth watered at the sight, fangs nearly freeing themselves with the desire to lick it up.
But at the last moment, Mathias forced his hands against his slacks to wipe it away, unwilling to chance the loss of control when such a small hint of blood wouldn't be nearly enough to sate his desire. Instead, it would only whet his appetite for more—and this injured fae had none to give.
So, with a long exhalation through his mouth, he suspended his breathing in attempt to ignore the tantalizing aroma. Sadly, the longer he went without breathing, the slower his heart would beat until it stopped altogether, putting him in blood lust.
But the risk was worth it if it meant saving Isadora's life, and the moment his focus returned to the fae, he realized his effort to save her was working.
Still lying upon the grass, vines had sprouted from the earth that were now wrapping around her arms and legs, trailing beneath her clothes in spirals as tiny white blossoms and triangular leaves bloomed in their wake. The foliage seemed to
root itself in her body, feeding her from the earth, and the larger the vines grew, the greener Isadora's skin became, her entire body sprouting leaves and buds alike.
As if beholding nature itself.
It was a curious sight, one he'd never witnessed and watched intently, finding this fae as intriguing a creature as the scent of her blood was alluring. She's … beautiful.
“Mathias?”
The question broke through his stupor, and he turned to spy Victoria coming in their direction from the estate. In turn, he recalled instructing her to track them outside, too busy trying to save Isadora's life to offer a proper explanation when she found them.
So he waited for the draconian to join them before motioning at the fae to mention, “It seems she's actually healing.”
Looking down at her friend, Victoria sighed in relief. “Good, and thank you for bringing her out here so quickly. But you still haven't told me what the hell happened.”
Nodding, Mathias took several more steps away from the fae as a precaution, then explained, “I was in the foyer waiting for the butler to alert you of my visit when I detected the scent of a fae. Upon investigating, I found two, including your friend here, heading into Dalris' gallery. So I followed out of sheer curiosity.”
He added the last to make certain she didn't believe his intentions were to feed on either of them. Despite being a trusted friend of Victoria's eldest brother, it wouldn't be out of the question for anyone to assume a vampire's sole interest in a fae was feeding.
But the draconian merely nodded without accusation, so he continued the story.
“In the gallery, this fae, you said her name is Isadora?”
“Yes,” Victoria confirmed.
Nodding, he added, “She used a dagger to break open a display case with a staff inside, and the magical wards protecting Dalris' belongings knocked her unconscious. Her sister took over from there, stealing the staff contained within, and then attempted to stab Isadora in the chest. So I intervened, but didn't move quickly enough.”
Victoria looked baffled by the story, pointing out, “One fae wouldn't simply attack another, Mathias.”
“I know, but there's another oddity in all of this.”
Looking back down at Isadora, he mentioned, “Both fae had white eyes, as if under some type of magical control. So I believe someone may have sent them to steal the staff, and directed one to kill the other to prevent anyone from learning the truth.”
Hearing this, Victoria groaned, then grew silent for a few considerate moments before asking, “Do you know what staff they took?”
“No, I was more focused on the fae and their actions than inspecting the staff,” he replied, looking up to see her nod.
“I'll have to check the gallery then. Perhaps knowing what was taken will offer clues into what's going on.”
With that said, she waved a hand at her sleeping friend and added, “I just hope, when Isadora awakens, she's not still under some strange spell.”
He could agree, pointing out, “It would be wise to take the precaution of confining her until you know for certain. But if you remove her from the earth before she's healed … .”
Knowing such an act would kill Isadora, Victoria nodded. “Dalris has some containment spheres that will erect a magical barrier. But I'll have to return to the mansion for them, and I'd rather not leave her out here alone. So would you stay with her until I return?”
Despite Mathias' inner turmoil over his discovery of a lover's blood link with this fae, he smiled in amusement at her request. Typically, draconians and vampires didn't get along—because a draconian's blood was poisonous for vampires to drink, there was a longstanding friction between their races stemming from arrogance and injured pride.
So he couldn't help but ask, “Does the House of Dra'Kai trust me enough to leave a fae in my care?”
Realizing how humorous it sounded, Victoria smirked. “We know you're no average vampire, Mathias, and you did just save her life.”
Though true, he gave Victoria a serious look in relating, “And even now, I'm fighting not to free my fangs and take whatever blood her body has left, and I feel no remorse for my desire.”
That was a partial lie—he did feel remorse, but only in knowing it wouldn't be possible to sample Isadora's blood, let alone make it last longer than a single feeding.
No, he was more dangerous to this fae than a dagger in the chest would ever be.
Because of that, he cast a final look back at Isadora and added, “So I'm not the one you want watching over her, and I should take my leave. When Dalris returns, tell him I came to learn if Dragon's Brood intends to back Nightfall, and that I wish him good fortune with his new mate.”
“Very well,” Victoria started, “but before you go, could you return to the estate and ask the butler to have one of the containment spheres brought to me?”
Realizing it was important to see to Isadora's safety, he agreed with ease, asking, “Is there anything else you need?”
“I don't think so,” she remarked after a thoughtful moment, then gave him an uncertain look in adding, “but are you sure you won't stay? Isadora will want to ask you about what happened when she awakens, saying she's not still bewitched.”
Mathias quirked a brow, pointing out, “I highly doubt a fae would care to speak with a vampire for any reason. That aside, there's nothing I could tell her that I haven't already told you, and I have a few personal matters to attend before dawn anyway.”
Thankfully, that wasn't a lie. Discovering a blood link to this fae changed his plans drastically, and that aside, he needed to get away from her before his suspended breathing put him in blood lust and complicated matters.
So he was grateful when Victoria relented.
“Okay, but you know you're welcome to stay if you need it.”
“I know,” he returned with every confidence, thanking her before allowing his body to turn to mist for a quicker trip back to the estate.
In the meantime, there was much to decide. Isadora possessed a unique link to be sure, yet she wasn't the first being Mathias had discovered a connection to, and though he'd turned several people in the past, he now refused. At present, he had a single daughter after losing the rest of his family to war ages ago, and each loss left a hole in his heart time was powerless to close.
That aside, turning a fae was out of the question unless he desired her demise, leaving only one option—distance. Somehow, he had to remove himself from this fae's reach, for both her safety and his own peace of mind.
The only question was how?
— THREE —
With the moon hanging low in a brightening sky, Isadora roused from sleep.
Her eyes opened to the last stars still visible above the trees, ears filled with the chirping of birds signaling the coming sun. The forest itself seemed to be waking with her, offering a sense of comforting familiarity as flowering vines encompassed her body, feeding it from the earth.
And she'd never felt more alive.
Smiling with a languid stretch, she sat up, the vines shrinking away from her flesh to recede into the ground as if they'd never been there at all. In turn, her skin faded back to a peach hue, leaving her invigorated and ready to start the day.
At least until she looked down to see her bloodstained shirt.
Jaw dropping at the sight, her body froze in shock for several moments, uncertain what she was even seeing. Was I … injured?
If so, a quick inspection of the garment revealed that the incident wasn't entirely recent since the blood was dry, all of it centered around a thin, even hole, as if a blade had pierced her chest.
But she had no recollection of the event, and trying to recall it revealed her last memories were of her visit to Port Said.
So how had she'd woken in the middle of a grove of trees in Atlanta, Georgia?
“Isadora, are you okay?”
The sudden question had her gaze darting up and left where she spied Victoria sitting a few yards awa
y—and the draconian's expression mirrored Isadora's own concern.
“Victoria?” Turning to face her, she inquired, “What's going on? Why is my shirt bloody?”
Questionably, the draconian looked her over with a studious gaze, asking, “You don't remember what happened last night?”
“No,” she retorted, “and if I wasn't a fae, I wouldn't even know where in the world I am now.”
Thankfully, her connection to nature made it difficult to get lost, and aside from her senses, these woods were familiar—she wasn't far outside of the Dra'Kai Estate.
Still, her inability to remember taking a trip from Africa to North America was extremely disorienting.
As if reading her thoughts, Victoria asked, “What's the last thing you recall? Because the last time we talked, you said you were investigating some cargo in Port Said a little over a week ago.”
“A week?”
Stunned, Isadora stared at her friend. With the gaps in her memory, it was hard to tell when Victoria made the call, but hearing an entire week had passed that she had no recollection of wasn't at all comforting.
“You don't remember anything that's happened over the past week?” Victoria asked.
“No,” Isadora returned, feeling more disoriented than ever before. “I was shopping near the docks when I noticed workers moving cargo from the S.S. Malvos into a nearby truck. I wouldn't have paid them any mind, except that I could sense life coming from inside one of the crates.”
“Life? Like an animal? Or was it a person?”
“I don't know,” Isadora answered, adding, “and that's the strange part. It was as if my senses were being blocked, and I only knew something living was locked inside. So I went down to take a look, but then … nothing. I can't remember anything afterward.”
Isadora trailed, her memories growing fuzzy just after she'd climbed into the back of the truck. She recalled making certain no one was around to cause trouble, and also sensing a few fae in the area, but then what? There was … an old woman?
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