“Own me!” Atticus laughed. “That statement alone proves you know nothing of me and haven’t even tried to. Damn, little wolf, I have been owned by someone or something since the day I was born. So have you!
“No, you’re wrong, I am my own person. I live and choose the path of light. Goodness over evil. It‘s simple,” Dani screamed, getting up from the floor, no longer willing to be lower than him.
“How very noble of you, Danica. Living in a delusional world such as yours must be nice. But let’s talk about this now that you seem more alert. Your pack, the one you are so eager and willing to get back to, to leave behind what the fates have destined for, do you not think you are owned by them in some way? Or your precious gifts, what about those, did they not make you into a commodity for other shifters to use? Are you not bound by them, do they not consume your every waking hour?” Atticus criticized.
“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Dani exclaimed putting her hands on her hips. “You are twisting things around to suit your purpose. Stop being a coward!”
“You laid there in that bed for days, avoiding your destiny, and you call me a coward!” Atticus bellowed.
“I laid there in that bed for days, as you put it, because you have filled this mausoleum you call home with so much dark magic, my body, wolf, and gift couldn’t take it and shut down. If that wasn’t bad enough, you connected our bond, strengthened it day by day, not caring while doing that you placed more of your dark magic inside of me. So yes! I am calling you a coward, among other things I choose not to voice right now!” Dani screamed.
Atticus just turned and walked away from her, slamming the door. Dani hadn’t expected that, had thought he would continue to argue and fight with her. Plead his case so to speak. Justify at least one of his actions, but all she got was a door slammed in her face.
Dani was coming to realize she could handle an arrogant asshole for a mate. What she couldn’t tolerate was a selfish prick who dismissed everything she believed in so firmly. Yeah, not so much. It didn’t matter how pretty the packaging was—If it was rotten on the inside it, was still wrong.
Sitting down in the chair, Dani decided she needed to get more creative. Sitting around this house, doing nothing, letting it take her over wasn’t a good idea. What scared her the most was if she was corrupted by the dark like Atticus, her gift would change. He had to know that, maybe that was the reason he was doing this. It sickened her to think he would want that—to change her healing gifts into a murderer’s touch.
Chapter 7
Atticus left Danica because he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her after what she had said. He wanted to be with Danica, a small part of him even wanted to argue and fight with her, the fire in her eyes when she spoke with conviction thrilled him. But the words she spoke and the reality that came crashing down on his head was enough to stagger him. He had been wrong… again. First Sage, now his mate.
Atticus had been so sure he had it all figured out. Take Danica, perform the ritual, mate with her, and be freed from his bonds to Bane. He had studied every possible angle and outcome. But he had been wrong, so very fucking wrong. Sage had his books, but there were still others, and he needed to look at them now.
Going straight to the den, he needed the tomes he had stolen from Bane’s library. He needed to figure out why the dark magic was affecting Danica, and he needed to learn how to lessen the pull Bane had on Sage. The wards he’d paid for in blood should have been protecting them both, all of them, but that purchase had backfired. Danica was taking in the dark magic, absorbing it, and Sage was only safeguarded now because of Kaylee.
He thought about the Witch he had paid to spell the house and make the potions. Micah wasn’t exactly good, but he wasn’t exactly bad either—he had no loyalties to either side of the light. That was the main reason Atticus had chosen him to perform the duties he needed. The man also didn’t seem to have been motivated by money although his price had been steep. Atticus had been more than willing to pay his price—thousands of dollars, a vial of his blood, and a few strands of his hair, root still attached, not from his human or wolf side but that of his fully transformed hybrid beast on the full moon.
Danica had been the key though, and he had yet to procure the last part of the payment. Finding her in that clearing, along with his brother, had been a fluke. He hadn’t lied when he told Danica he knew all about her and her gifts, along with all the other Valentin pack members. But before going there, he hadn’t known she was his mate. It had taken several hours to get all the preparations into place to bring her home with him.
Sage had monitored Micah at the house as he placed the wards and left the vials, each to be taken at a particular time. The first was to be drunk immediately, but Atticus had waited. Was that the problem? Had he disrupted the flow of magic by waiting? No, he thought, the first was to strengthen him, to hold his resolve, focus him on completing his goals without the mating pull interfering. The second was to start severing the blood bond he had with Bane so he could form a bond with Danica entirely without making her into one of Bane’s minions. She would only be beholden to Atticus. The third, the one still sitting in the case, was for the ritual itself. It was to amplify his own strength, power, and gifts, so when Bane attacked, he would be able to defeat him once and for all.
That monster had guided his life for way too long, changing him at the age of sixteen. Atticus had wanted it, at first, until he realized what he had given up. Guided by vengeance, he agreed to become one of Bane’s followers, drawn by the promise of power, strength, and revenge. He had received two of those supposed gifts, strength and power, but he had been held on a very tight leash. Bane, his Master, dictated precisely how much of either he could use at any given time. In the beginning, Bane allowed neither, he’d had other plans for Atticus. The revulsion he felt when he thought of those years turned his stomach.
It wasn’t until he became older and lost the freshness of youth, Bane allowed him more rein. Bane liked boys. Contrary to what humans believed, Vampire did not stop aging once turned, it just happened more slowly. At thirty-six, Atticus looked as though he was still in his early to mid-twenties. There were others who had been changed at a younger age he felt sorry for. Killian, one of the taken he and Sage had looked after, had been changed when he was twelve. That was over ten years ago, and he still looked as though he was in his early teens. It would be at least another decade before his body changed from that of a boy to a man.
Damn it! Atticus looked around, he was standing at the base of the stairs, his focus entirely shattered by the past. He needed to get his shit together and fix this—for all of them. The atrocities of the past couldn’t be changed, but he needed to figure out a way to fix the future. Had believed he found it. But once again, his trust had been shattered. Picking up his pace, he threw open the heavy double doors to the library.
Shocked for a moment at what he saw, Atticus fixed his stance, pasting a placid look on his face as though seeing one of his biggest enemies sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, smoking a cigar, enjoying a tumbler of whiskey wasn’t a big deal. But this man shouldn’t have been able to come into his home without Atticus knowing, sensing him at least. Reaching for his beast, he found the creature barricaded against his call. Reaching for this vampire side, he only got a slight tingling sensation in his gums. Running his tongue around his teeth, he noticed his fangs had descended but only slightly.
“Why are you here, Draven?” Atticus growled. The man just smiled, taking another long pull from his cigar.
“Ah, Atticus I was wondering how long you would keep me waiting before finally realizing I was here. Seems Bane’s golden boy has lost some of his glow.”
“Answer me,” Atticus demanded, “why are you here?”
“Silly boy, you know exactly why I’m here. Our Master has called you home.” Draven got up, placing the tumbler on the table, grinding his cigar into the surface, scoring the rich mahogany. “I was sent to retrieve y
ou as is my duty.” Draven smiled as he took a fighter’s stance, knees slightly bent, his considerable weight balanced on the balls of his feet, arms loose, clawed hands fisted, his fangs fully distended.
But just as Atticus had come to expect, Draven wasn’t done playing with him yet.
“Seems the Master is not happy with you, Atticus, not following his orders and delivering his prize. You should have known better than that, but then again, the lovely little morsel sitting upstairs might be a suitable replacement for the Blue Moon Priestess. I can feel her dark power growing from here.” Draven let his body shiver in delight, sickening Atticus.
Atticus took a step forward, gritting through his teeth. “It’s time for you to leave, Draven. I won’t be going back with you.
“Ah, still see you have that backbone.” Shaking his head, Draven said, “Stupid, stupid boy. I had thought Bane had relieved you of that years ago. Looks like he’ll have to increase his efforts in the future. Now, why don’t you be a good little boy and fetch my Sage for me? It’s been a long time since I had to remind her of her place in our world. I’m looking forward to refreshing her memory of a few of our lessons.”
Draven was baiting him. Atticus had known about his lessons with Sage. She had never once mentioned the horrible, wicked things this man had done to her, but Atticus had seen the aftermath, had cared for her while she healed and held her while she cried. But as the years went by, she stopped coming to Atticus and started hiding the things Bane and the Coven had done to her, but Atticus had still known—another shame he had yet to deal with. Draven continued to speak, Atticus catching several vile things but choosing to ignore him. Pushing himself, he realized, right now, he was basically human, standing against a Vampire. The odds of a good outcome were not in his favor.
“You know, Sage has always been one of my favorite pupils. Fights with everything she has until you are placed in danger, then submits like a pro. I’ve always wondered what it would be like once Bane tired of you and finally wiped his personal abomination from this world. My Sage could finally become what she was meant to be—a bloodthirsty queen. It would be so glorious to witness the transformation once she no longer had anything or anyone holding her to her human side.”
“I will fight you and our Master, this you already know, so why don’t we get on with whatever it is that you have planned. Your threats against Sage sicken me, but she can and will defend herself. You are just a weak man without Bane or his Army behind you, and I don’t sense anyone coming to help you. Are you so old now, you’ve lost your common sense? I truly expected more out of you, Draven,” Atticus sneered.
Draven smiled wider and winked at Atticus, throwing him off guard. Between the two of them, Atticus was stronger, Draven knew that, but he had a confidence about him right now Atticus couldn’t figure out. He wasn’t scared, intimidated, or even slightly concerned facing Atticus by himself. When Draven flashed before Atticus’ eyes, grabbed the collar of his shirt before he could even lift his hand, brutally throwing him backward into the wall, Atticus was the one who was concerned.
He felt the pain of impact, felt one of his ribs snap, and his body slumped to the floor. Before he could regain his footing, Draven was upon him again, kicking him viciously. Atticus had never been this weak in his entire life, not even as a child. All he could do was curl in on himself, trying to protect his head and gut from the continuing blows.
Draven bent down and grabbed a fist full of Atticus’ hair, yanking his head up so he could look into his eyes.
“I will start your lessons for our Master,” Draven snarled. “Number one,” he said slamming his fist into Atticus’ face, “never believe he doesn’t know your every move. This little game you’ve been playing amused him, and he allowed it for his entertainment. Wanted to see how far you would actually go before he brought you to heel. Stupid boy,” Draven said, hitting him again, “no one betrays Bane and gets away with it.” Draven reared back again, ready to deliver another blow. Atticus could already see black dots dancing in his eyes and knew this final hit would knock him out, leaving him helpless.
His last thoughts were of Danica, her beauty and pureness, the good he had almost destroyed in her. Finding the bond between them, he poured everything he had left into it, hoping one day she would be able to forgive him, and the black within her soul would die as surely as he was about to. He forced every emotion through the bond—his fear, hopelessness, and loss but mainly, the love he had yet to discover and hoped one day would grow between them. Praying, for the first time since he was a little boy, this would work, that Danica would be able to absorb more of the dark magic and break free. Just as Draven’s fist came within a millimeter of his face, Atticus felt the bond connect and surge through Danica’s body. He yelled mentally into her head, RUN!!!
Chapter 8
Dani had been examining the walls of the room, watching the dark magic ebb and flow. She knew little of magic. Marcus had kept it away from their pack even with their primary focus being the McClane Coven which even she admitted he should, probably one of the only emotions the man had ever had in his life. Dani believed in it but also feared the power Ruth and the others had over the pack.
She racked her brain for what she knew. When Kaylee came into their lives, Dani had often gone along while Ruth and Kaylee’s mother taught her about her destiny and magic. There were basic principles to it, but without having the magic in your body, a person was generally blinded to them. One thing she did know was without the witch or Warlock being present, they needed a source to hold and keep the magic going. It could be anything—a feather, a book even—but one of the most common were gemstones or crystals.
Dani took her breakfast tray and placed it in the bathroom, the dark magic not as prevalent in there, only around the edges and softer. Putting the tray and contents in the sink, she went back into the bedroom and started to tear it apart. Dani looked under the bed, but there wasn’t anything there, not even a freaking dust bunny. She already knew all the drawers were empty, but she pulled them out, letting them hit the floor as she examined the inside of the nightstands and dresser. Nothing! After picking up the lamp and looking at it, she let it crash to the floor breaking, then looked through the mess. Still nothing.
Standing, she placed her hands on her hips, moving her body in a circle, looking at everything. It had to be small, something that wouldn’t be seen instantly or possibly reflect light. Going over to the window, she ripped the curtain from its rod. The pop of each hanger felt oddly satisfying in her hands. Running her hands through the fabric, there was nothing. Frustrated, she pushed the chair closer to the window and ran her hands around the sill. Finding nothing again infuriated her. She started grabbing anything she could, the bed linen and blankets, throwing them to the floor. The heavy mattress she pushed until it hit the floor, then tipped it over—nothing. The box springs more of the same.
The pictures on the wall came next, then the desk. She broke it all apart but still found nothing. Falling to her knees, Dani wanted to cry or hell, beg a higher power to help her. Letting out a breath, she looked up and saw it. The light fixture in the ceiling was grand, cut crystal that splintered and broke the light out in paths shown in a rainbow of different colors on the ceiling, but within it was a flaw, a little black spot.
Dani looked around again. The ceilings were at least twelve feet tall, and the only things she had to help her get up there were the chair and the bed. The bed was torn apart and way too heavy for her push in her current condition. If she had the strength of her wolf, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but Atticus and this dark magic had stifled her wolf, making her useless. The chair wouldn’t work because it was only a few feet off the ground, and Dani was short, just over five and a half feet tall. But if she stood on the chair, she might be able to break it with something—the question was what?
Looking at the mess, she considered using the base of the lamps, but the thin metal in the center wouldn’t break the crystal. She looked at th
e desk. It had long, thin legs, but it would take considerable effort to break one off to use as a club, and to be honest, she was already surprised Atticus or Sage hadn’t already come into the room, demanding to know what she was doing already.
When she went to get up from the floor, she used the bed frame as a pivot point, pushing the box spring that was already precariously sitting there and almost did a victory dance. The supports that held the mattress in place were loose. They were also over six feet long, giving her plenty of length to hit the light and get out of the way before the glass shards were able to rain down on her, possibly cutting her.
Grabbing a board, Dani stood on the chair and took her first swing, missing the damn light completely. She needed just a little more height. Jumping down, Dani gathered several pillows and the comforter, wadding them up and placing them on the seat of the chair, then climbed back on. She had the chair placed off to the side so the momentum of her swing would make the impact harder, crushing the light fixture. Her second attempt made contact, but the heavy glass only cracked.
Tightening her grip on the board, she swung again. The moment it hit the fixture, Dani could feel the vibration of the contact all the way through the board to her hands. When the sparkles of broken glass started to fall around her like confetti, she quickly jumped down to get out of the way.
Watching as the glass went everywhere, Dani instantly regretted her eagerness to get this done. She should have thought it out more, placed a blanket down on the floor to catch everything… or something. The broken glass was everywhere. Finding that damn dark spot would be damn near impossible, but she had learned one thing in her life—determination got you everywhere.
Getting to her knees again, she cursed the silky nightgown she was still wearing—It had been days since she’d changed. It provided no defense for the glass and made her slip and slide all over the floor. She had no idea how long she had been at it, but when Dani found the small black crystal, she shouted FINALLY! before catching herself. Quickly getting to her feet, she ignored the pieces of glass that cut into her and ran for the bathroom, dropping the black crystal into the half-full coffee cup.
Dirt Road Redemption (Dirt Road Series Book 2) Page 6
