by N M Thorn
“Oh, that? This is one thing you don’t have to worry about.” Magnus tittered as if a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders, and Damian couldn’t help but wonder what question the Head of the Destiny Council had expected from him. “When I restored you as my Shadow Enforcer, I also conjured a protective barrier around your soul so other members of the Council couldn’t read it. Everyone else is free to do it if you allow them, but not the High Council.” He wagged his finger warningly. “And don’t you dare ask me why. Just say, thank you, my lord, and leave it at that.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The corners of Damian’s mouth quirked up, and for the first time since he had been brought to the Destiny Council realm by Commander Moore, he allowed himself to relax.
Magnus got up and started to pace, the silvery mist wrapping around his ankles like shimmering ribbons.
“Riddle me this, Dmitri,” he said, sounding as if he spoke to himself. “You said Donna Luna acted on the orders from an unknown man, her master. He was the one who needed magical energy. But why did he need it? And how does the overthrowing of Peter the Great fit in all that?”
“As far as the situation with Peter the Great, I have no idea, but magical energy is a hard-to-get commodity,” replied Damian, following Magnus’ progress with his eyes. “The amount of magical energy she had stored in her underground bunker could have bought her master a world in the supernatural circles.”
Magnus came to an abrupt halt and turned to him, tension in his narrowed eyes. “You’re right,” he whispered, his voice as dry as the grass in the Sanora Desert. “It could have bought him a world or a ticket out of a world. What if he needed all this magical energy to break out of one of the locked realms of death, like Hell, or the Celtic Otherworld, or the Dark Nav?”
“Could be,” Damian agreed. “But it could also be anything else.”
“You’re absolutely right, my boy.” Magnus started to pace again, nervously clutching his hands behind his back. “It’s all connected. It must be. This Donna Luna’s master, the rise of Koschei the Deathless, the absurd amount of magical energy. There must be something that connects it all.”
Magnus kept pacing, quickly muttering something under his breath, but Damian couldn’t make out anything he was saying. After a while, he scrambled to his feet, wincing from the sharp pain in his injured back. His energy drained by the Destiny cuffs still wasn’t restored and suppressing the pain as well as self-healing was out of the question.
He stepped forward, blocking Magnus’ path. “Magnus, stop,” he said softly. “I’ve never seen you so troubled and… lost. We’ll figure it out.”
Magnus’ gaze focused on Damian’s face. “Do you remember what Ace said before she died?” he asked, his deep voice raspy.
“Of course,” replied Damian. “She said someone gave her orders to put a rift between me and my brother. She also started to say something about you, but she’s never finished her statement.”
“Damian, be careful… you must help… Magnus is—those were her words,” whispered Magnus. “I believe she was trying to warn you about some kind of danger. If my word is not enough, I can swear on my power that I didn’t give her the orders to break you and your brother apart, and I would never hurt you. At least not willingly. So, I believe the complete statement is ‘You must help. Magnus is in danger’…” His voice trailed off as he pressed his lips into a firm line. Then he shook his head, furrowing his brow. “It must all be connected somehow.”
“Magnus,” said Damian, and his words broke Magnus out of his stupor. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. We just need a little time to think things through.”
“I’m afraid time is the one thing we don’t have,” mumbled Magnus. “Go home, Dmitri. Heal yourself and get some rest before you start your investigation. Speak with Cole and Ruslan, but don’t bring anyone else into it. Trust no one else. Do you understand me, my child?”
“Yes, sir, but—”
Magnus stepped back and pulled the sides of his robe apart, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Commander Blake, I expect your reports daily.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ugh…” Magnus rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Dmitri!”
Damian suppressed a smile as he lowered to one knee, pressing his fist to his chest. “I’m yours to command, my lord.”
Magnus approached him and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Dammit, boy,” he said softly. “Go home and get a haircut. And for God’s sake, don’t do it with your daggers. There are barbershops for that in the human realm, I believe.”
He placed two fingers on Damian’s forehead and stilled, his eyes searching his face. Then he twirled his wrist, and a thick cloak of darkness took Damian in its cold embrace.
Chapter 34
~ Cole Adams ~
Cole sat on a lounge chair under the cover of a flat porch roof and watched Ruslan swim endless laps in the Olympic-size swimming pool he had installed after he purchased the Brown’s estate. After three years in restraints, Ruslan just wanted to feel free, and swimming seemed to satisfy the need for now. Ignoring the discomfort brought by the blazing Arizona sun, he kept at it, his muscled arms breaking the surface of the water in even, powerful strokes.
It had been close to twenty-four hours since Damian had been taken, and Cole had a hard time complying with Archmage Allerton’s suggestion to stay put. On the other hand, he had no idea what to do. Damian had never spoken of this part of his life, and except for Luc de la Crosse and Quinn Allerton, Cole didn’t know anyone else who could help him find his brother. Allerton had made it clear that Cole needed to stand down, and Luc de la Crosse was on his list of possible suspects in connection with Amaris.
Deep inside, Cole knew Luc couldn’t have been the traitor, but in a situation like this, he had to remain vigilant no matter how much he trusted a person. He had some suspicions, but he needed solid proof.
The loud shrill of his new cellphone broke him out of his thoughts. He leaned to the side, reaching for the device, and swiped across the screen, answering the call.
“Cole,” Jamie’s voice sounded on the other side of the line. “I’m so glad to hear your voice, my friend.”
“Jamie, you’re back.” Cole got up, his spirits rising. “Is Damian with you?”
A pause of hesitation filled the line, and Cole leaned his shoulder against the wall, getting ready for the bad news.
“No, Damian is not back yet. He’s still in the Destiny Council realm, wherever that might be,” said Jamie, his voice coming through dull. “Petrukha returned to the Sacred Isle and sent me home, to Paradise Manor. He told me that Damian was…” His voice morphed into a heavy silence, but Cole could hear his angry breaths.
“They punished him?” he asked, trying to help Jamie form the words. “Did they flog him?”
“Yes,” Jamie replied at length. “I’m sorry, Cole. From what Petrukha explained, he had it bad until Magnus showed up and stopped that medieval cruelty.” He cleared his throat and added quickly, “Damian is with Magnus now, so he should be all right.”
‘That’s good. Magnus treats him well, more or less,” Cole whispered, staring at the cracks in the tiles of the patio. “Listen, Jamie, I know you just came back and probably didn’t even have a moment to get any rest, but I was wondering if you could help me with something.” He thought for a moment and added, “It’s not really your help I need, per se, but I think what I’m about to do will benefit you as well.”
“Of course,” the young man replied right away. “I’ll go with you.”
“I’m at home, at the Brown’s estate. Can you come over now?” asked Cole, gesturing for Ruslan to come out of the pool.
“See you soon,” Jamie replied and hung up the phone.
An hour later, Cole parked his car in front of the gatehouse of Ricardo’s house. Ruslan and Jamie sat in the back, conversing quietly. Jamie had never met a vampire as old as Ruslan, and unsurprisingly, he had hundreds of questions. What surprised
Cole, however, was that his normally reserved and antisocial maker had taken a liking to the young man and didn’t mind answering all his questions.
He reached for his phone and dialed Ricardo’s phone number, counting the beeps. Ricardo answered almost immediately, his voice coming through too tense for Cole’s comfort.
“Ricardo, we do everything as we discussed earlier, and remember, you must keep your cool and let me and Ruslan do all the talking,” said Cole, staring out the window at the gate. “I’m parked outside the gates, waiting for you and your sister.”
He hung up the phone and got out of the vehicle. Soon, the gate opened, and a golf cart driven by Ricardo parked next to the gatehouse. Ricardo stepped out of the cart and helped his sister out. She brushed her hands over her skirt, readjusting wrinkles visible only to her, and turned to her brother, tapping her foot.
Cole approached them, flashing a wide grin. “Please, my lady, have a seat,” he said with an elegant bow as he directed her toward his car and opened the door for her. “Since I’ve met your brother, I’ve heard so much about you. Sometimes when meeting under extreme circumstances, the first impression could be wrong, so I begged Ricardo for the opportunity to get to know you better. He picked the venue since he knows your preferences so much better.”
“At least something he did right,” she grumbled, but as her eyes fell on Cole’s beautiful blue Maserati, the expression on her face changed from annoyance to lustful hunger. She halted by the open door, gracing Cole with a long glance, and several emotions chased each other across her face. Displeasure and open disgust were replaced by surprise, and finally, a playful smile lit up her face.
“Thank you, Mr. Adams,” she breathed, taking his hand to lower herself onto the seat.
He returned her smile, battling the desire to be as far away from this woman as he could. Thinking about how great it would feel to sink his fangs into her neck, he marched around the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
As they took the freeway toward Scottsdale, she kept talking, asking him about his business, his life among humans as well as vampires, wondering what it took to be the King of a Vampire Court. He answered her questions in his usual lighthearted manner, pretending to respond to her flirtatious advances. Glancing into the rearview mirror, he caught sight of Ricardo’s face and cursed inwardly. The man looked like he was about to be sick, his sun-tanned skin so pale it appeared to be yellow.
Cole’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation, and he reached into his pocket, knowing ahead of time it was Jamie calling. He answered the call, pressing the device to his ear, and even though Jamie remained silent, he pretended to have an ongoing conversation.
“Cole Adams…” he said, pausing. “Yes, but do we need it today?” He paused again. “Sure, I’m not too far away. I’ll pick it up.”
Putting his phone back in his pocket, Cole took an exit from the freeway and then turned into a small plaza, parking it in front of a small bookshop. He glanced into the rearview mirror, giving a pointed stare to Ruslan. Then he stepped out of the car and walked around it to open the passenger door. Offering his hand to Camila, he smiled and turned his vampire charm on, forcing her to relax and drop her guard.
“Camila, darling, I’m sorry, but I need to make an unplanned stop. I hope you don’t mind accompanying me. It won’t take long,” he purred, watching her eyes widened and pupils dilate as his glamor fogged her mind.
“But of course.” She took his hand, turning in her seat to place both feet on the asphalt.
As they walked toward the store, Cole did his best to keep her occupied, so she realized where they were only when Cole halted in front of the door. Her eyes darted up at the name of the bookshop, and all color drained from her face.
“On second thought, I think I’ll wait for you in the car,” she mumbled, staggering back just to run into her brother.
“I think not,” muttered Ricardo.
He opened the door and pushed Camila inside. Then he followed her into the store and quickly checked for silver traps before allowing Ruslan and Cole to pass inside. Jamie came in last and closed the door behind them with a loud thud to attract the attention of the store owner.
Aaron Cooper walked out from the back room to greet them. As his gaze halted on Camila, his eyes widened for less than a tenth of a second, but it was enough for Cole’s sharp vampiric vision to register the change. The Warden regarded Cole and Ruslan with an icy stare, and his lip curled up in aversion. Nevertheless, he forced a dutiful smile and inclined his head.
“Mr. Adams,” he said frostily, folding his arm over his skinny chest. “To what do I owe the pleasure this time?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cooper.” Cole smiled brightly. “Just as usual, I need to speak with Master Luc de la Crosse. It’s urgent.”
“But of course, it is,” grumbled Aaron, shuffling toward the counter. “When it comes to you, it’s always urgent, and now you’ve dragged in more of your repulsive kind.”
He reached behind the counter and fished out his cellphone. Then he dialed Luc’s number and pressed the device to his ear.
“Master de la Crosse,” he said once Luc answered the call. “Mr. Cole Adams is here to see you. What should I tell him?” He took a quick pause. “Oh, you’re on your way? Yes, fine.”
A portal, rotating with a shimmering blue light, opened in the middle room, and a young man in the black attire of a priest walked out of it, halting in front of Cole. His attentive hazel eyes took in every person in the room, and his features hardened, a shadow of concern crossing his face.
“Master de la Crosse, allow me to introduce my father,” said Cole, gesturing at Ruslan.
“Ruslan,” said Luc, offering Ruslan his hand for a handshake before Cole had the opportunity to say his name. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and not only from Cole. I’m glad to see you well after the terrible ordeal you’ve been through.”
“Thank you, my lord,” replied Ruslan, carefully squeezing his hand. “It’s not every day a vampire gets to meet a Master of the Wardens Order and lives to tell the tale.”
“You and your son are absolutely safe here,” replied Luc. He turned toward Camila and Ricardo, and as Cole introduced them, he was positive Luc had never met either of them before.
“Cole,” said Luc, gesturing for them to proceed into the small back room they used for private audiences. “I noticed Commander Blake is not with you. After the latest events, I hope he’s okay. I don’t know all the details, but the disturbance in the magical and elemental energy fields could be detected from miles away. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Cole made his way to the small table in the center of the room and pulled a chair out, helping Camila to sit down. Then he pulled the chair next to her and lowered himself onto it. With a shudder, he recalled the last time he was in this room—covered in the blood of his best friend whom he had no choice but to kill. Lowering his eyes, he waited until everyone found a place.
“I don’t know if he’ll be all right, Luc,” he said quietly. “I don’t think so. I know he disregarded orders of his superiors to save Ruslan, Sylvana and me, and the Destiny Council doesn’t take these kinds of offenses lightly.”
“As well they shouldn’t,” snapped Aaron. He didn’t sit down but stood tense and erect with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Not only did he disobey orders, but he also made quite a light show from what I’ve heard, exposing the World of Magic and all. And all that just to save a few worthless vamps? He deserves everything that’s coming to him.”
“Aaron, what’s wrong with you?” asked Luc, turning toward his human Warden. “Cole is Damian’s brother, and Commander Blake would never leave anyone behind, let alone his brother. Besides, I thought we had this conversation already, and you agreed with me—not every supernatural being is evil. Your hate toward vampires and werewolves is clouding your judgment.”
Camila laughed, her laughter sounding like the soft jingle of a silver bell. �
�Monsieur de la Crosse, s'il vous plaît,” she said with an elegant twirl of her wrist. “You can’t be serious about that, can you?” She pointed at Ruslan, a look of superiority turning her tender face into an ugly grimace. “Look at him. From what I’ve learned over the last three years, this monster is at least a few thousand years old. Are you telling me there is no innocent human blood on his fangs?”
Ruslan’s lips stretched into a wide, carnivorous smile, his fangs fully expanded. “My deepest apologies, my lady,” he purred as softly as Cole, but the sound of his voice was a lot deeper, spreading around the room in soft, velvety waves. “I don’t mean to offend your delicate senses, but I do brush my fangs at least twice a day. Rest assured, when I sink them into your deliciously elegant neck, there will be no other blood on them.”
Camila snorted very unladylike and threw her hands up. “I don’t understand how you, Monsieur de la Crosse, can tolerate something like this. You’re a Master of the Wardens Order. I thought it was your duty to protect humanity against all the supernatural freaks.”
“It is my duty, mademoiselle,” Luc replied calmly, but Cole detected tones of irritation in his even voice, “and I assure you, I do my duty well.”
“I beg to differ,” she huffed, leaning forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “If that were true, we wouldn’t have an old vampire named Arizona’s most desirable bachelor, and the entire Vampire Court lurking in the shadows, hiding behind their King.” She pointed at Cole, anger coloring her cheeks in a bright shade of pink.
“You don’t think I’m desirable?” Cole leaned closer to her, whispering into her ear, and for a brief moment, her eyes became foggy with lust. “I’m wounded…”
“That’s not the point.” She pushed Cole away, rising sharply.
“We have hundreds of vampires, werewolves, shifters and other supernatural beings walking the streets of Phoenix among humans, leading normal lives, Camila,” Luc said peacefully, but his French accent became heavier—a sure sign of his turmoiled emotions. “They are not hunting and killing humans, and I don’t see a reason to prosecute them. The Destiny Council supports peaceful co-existence. So, vampires like Cole Adams and Ruslan, who are trying to move the Arizona Vampire Court in this direction, have our full support and cooperation.”
