And when I dragged my eyes away from their feet and up to their faces, I snorted. Both of them were enjoying this, with mad grins on their faces. It seemed as if they could communicate where they’d turn, where they’d step, speaking a language only found in the sound of the sharp cracks against the dance floor.
Romulus was coated in a sheen of sweat; the light dancing off him gave him a feral pagan look. I found myself wanting to throw myself at him and drag him down into a kiss. It seemed I wasn’t the only one unaffected yet again, and if there were new children months later, well . . . it would likely be from tonight.
I jumped when both Romulus and Puck leaped and spun to face the crowd, landing side by side, their steps suddenly in sync. It seemed as if the battle was over, equal forces having met one another, and now they’d turned on us. The fiddlers started up once more as the two of them turned in a circle, never setting a foot out of place.
And then they began to leap, their legs lashing out with precise control, heels cracking against the floor before kicking back up to nearly touch their opposite hips, all the while spinning in the air.
As the fiddlers played faster, they danced harder, their feet moving with impossible speed and astounding grace. It was maddening.
I held my breath as both the music and their dancing strained against the laws of physics, drowning everything else out. The fiddlers played hard, their bows racing over their instruments with a frenzied energy, and with a dramatic riff they finished—Romulus and Master Puck’s feet landing in a synchronized final stomp.
The sudden silence was deafening as we looked on, dumbfounded. And then we erupted into cheers and rampant applause.
They bowed together and Master Puck clapped Romulus on the shoulder, both of them laughing. The crowd let them pass and the fiddlers took a break from performing. But the party wasn’t without music for long, as more stepped up—this time a flutist and drummer started up, and a lithe elven woman began to sing while others began to dance on the platform. Nothing could be as riveting as the performance we’d just witnessed though.
Romulus bent over me, kissing me soundly, stealing my breath again.
“That was incredible,” I said, still struggling to breathe. My heart was racing as if it had me been me dancing. “Why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?”
He folded his legs under him, leaning back on his hands as he sat on the soft grass in front of me. He offered a shrug of a single shoulder. “Basement parties aren’t usually the best place for what most people know as river dancing.”
I nudged his leg with my toe. “Well, that can’t be the last time I see you dance—” A yawn interrupted me.
“Ahh, we’ve kept the lass up too late,” Puck teased before sobering noticeably. “You’ve got a difficult day tomorrow. Best you get some sleep. Mrs. Saren prepared the guest caravan for you both. You can sleep there until it’s time for your return to the mortal world.” He leaned back, pointing off towards the path we came in through. With a snap, one of the stars seemed to drift slowly down until it filled a lantern hanging from a dark caravan. “That’d be the one. We’ll see you bright and early.”
Romulus climbed to his feet and offered me a hand up. I turned and embraced my mother, and she hugged me tightly before running her hand over my hair.
“Hold on to his love tonight, my dear,” she said quietly but firmly.
I swallowed hard and nodded. I was glad she didn’t question my decision to try to master the phoenix power we shared. I was terrified, but I had lived with terror and struggle for so long I could not let myself fear this new challenge.
Romulus and I slipped away from the crowd and into the darkness, using the soft light Master Puck had commanded as a guide. He let me be alone with my thoughts, even as he held me close to him. And when he opened the door into the simple caravan, he pulled me against him. I tilted my head back, eager for the touch of his lips. He guided us towards the back, where our bed was made and ready.
He touched me with such gentleness, carefully helping me undress. We traded touches, lying on our sides facing one another, the purple moonlight filtering in through the small rectangular window above us.
There was no sense of urgency as we explored each other with our hands, and then our mouths. And when we at last joined together, we were so entwined I lost track of where I ended and Romulus began.
As the eerie moon trailed across the sky, Romulus slipped into sleep beside me, his arms wrapped tightly around me, and I clung to that feeling. Of our love melding us together, making us more than what we were on our own. That strength, that love, would give me the courage to master the powers which threatened everything.
Chapter 9
Eleanora
Kaden’s hoofbeats were muffled by the thick layer of pine needles and leaves covering the path we walked down. Once again, he had offered his assistance for transportation, while Master Puck walked just ahead of us. Unlike the previous day, the great fae was silent. If I was not sure of the danger and difficulty of the task I faced, this would have made it clear.
I hardly slept, and truthfully, I doubted Romulus had either. When I had made to slip from the bed, he was awake and alert enough that proved me right. We had dressed in silence, and I wished I could have dragged it out longer. I lingered over the tea he’d made, unable to stomach one of the scones provided by our hosts. How could I eat when my stomach was twisted into knots? I could be heading towards my death, and Romulus could not follow me. I hadn’t found the courage to look back to the lycan as I’d left. I knew that if I had, I would never have been able to leave. And soon, Master Puck and Kaden would leave me, then I would have to make the final length of the journey by myself.
:We will wait for you.: Kaden’s smooth voice entered my mind. :We will know when you are successful.:
:You mean if I’m successful,: I thought back at him, and he shook his head.
:You must believe if you are to be victorious,: he chided me, and I sighed, knowing he was only being honest. :If it gives you courage, I believe you shall be. And so does the fae king and queen. They would not have granted you passage to our realm otherwise.:
My mother had explained to me the evening before that when one spoke mind to mind, it was impossible to lie, but I found it in myself to be skeptical. Not in the words themselves, but of the message.
I didn’t reply right away, or at least Kaden allowed me the space of my own thoughts though I knew he could likely hear them. If the leaders of the fae believed me strong enough to master the phoenix, certainly I could believe it.
If I couldn’t, then I would never see Brom and Merlin again. I had already overcome so much that would have broken others. I set my shoulders back, my faith in myself renewed. I could feel the hum of Kaden’s pleasure tickling my thoughts and I leaned forward, patting his neck.
:Thank you,: I thought at him.
He didn’t respond, beyond a whicker, and I turned my gaze to the surroundings once again. Brookshire, the caravan community, was set in a plain, tall grass as far as the horizon. Master Puck had guided us out down another path than the one we had entered in, and by the time the sun had fully risen, the grass had transitioned into short, tough bushes, and the ground grew steeper and rockier.
The trail seemed to disappear, but Master Puck carried on as if it was clear and I trusted him to get us safely to our destination. If I couldn’t trust the Master Puck, Robin Goodfellow, the old pagan god of the earth, then I may as well give up on this quest already.
He turned us towards a crack in the ground, and as we followed it, we descended into the earth as stone walls rose on either side of us. He finally stopped and I slid off Kaden, walking to his side.
Master Puck had stopped us in a small ravine, water trickling down the side of the wall and collecting in a shallow pool. I looked upwards, the sky framed by the stone walls, and realized we’d been traveling nearly the entire morning. The sun was nearing its peak in the sky.
When I pulle
d my gaze back down to the cavern, Master Puck was also staring at the sky. He felt my gaze and looked at me, his eyes shuttered and his face blank.
“We cannot take you any further, my dear,” he said and turned to point down the ravine. “Suanach Aoife lives within this labyrinth. You must find her and submit to her tests.”
I leaned past him and looked at the seemingly innocuous path before me. I looked back at Kaden and threw my hands around his neck, burying my face against his soft hair. He smelled of spice, summertime meadows, and a metallic power—almost like ozone; he smelled of friendship and hope. He dropped his head over my shoulder, returning the embrace, and I had to wipe at my eyes as I let go of him.
I moved to Master Puck, his eyes full of trepidation, but his arms open. I stepped into them and he hugged me tightly.
“If I don’t come back—”
“You will,” he whispered harshly, and I stepped back, trying to smile but failing.
“Still,” I pressed. “If I don’t, take care of him for me? Make sure he gets home safely?”
Master Puck cupped my cheek, his fingertips rough against my skin, as he gazed into my eyes. It was only then I realized his eyes were similar to Kaden’s. Master Puck’s eyes were the color of the trees in autumn: golds and vermilions lined what I thought were black pupils but held their own constellations and universes within.
“I will, lass,” he promised. “I give you my word as a great fae.”
His voice was deep with power, and I felt the last of my reservations dissolve. I turned towards the entrance to where Suanach Aoife dwelled, and without looking back, strode within.
I didn’t know how I was supposed to find her, the cavern twisting and breaking into different paths. I would take each right turn when presented with a fork, but I knew I was turned around enough to be lost.
Grateful for the choice to wear my jeans and loose linen shirt I brought from my world, I wished I’d also brought a pack filled with food and water. The pool where I’d left the fae to wait for me was the only water I’d seen and my mouth was dry. Still, I pushed on, taking turns and paths at random, hoping I’d stumble upon her.
I looked up at the sun, the bright orb inching across the sky. I had no idea how long I’d been wandering; time working strangely. It felt like hours, but the sun appeared to have hardly moved. How in the hell was I supposed to find the original phoenix?
I took a break, leaning up against one of the stone walls and running my hand through my hair before tying it up in a messy ponytail. I was glad I hadn’t worn a veil because it would have only made me more of a sweaty mess. I stared at my surroundings, the path extending to my left and right. I only had two choices, unless I wanted to scale the cliffs. I gave the walls a glance before dismissing it entirely. There were small ledges and outcroppings, but I was not anywhere skilled enough to climb anything. If I tried, I was positive I’d fall back onto my ass.
Kaden? I thought hard, hoping the fae could hear me.
Something brushed against my mind, but it was most certainly not the equine fae. This was the ghost of a quiet roar and terrifyingly angry. I wanted to run from it, to throw myself back the way I came and scream for Master Puck. I felt my own power gather inside me, responding to that touch, and I reached for it out of instinct before I hesitated.
“Huh,” I said out loud and smiled as an idea came to me. I had remembered what Master Puck and others had told me about Suanach Aoife. I reached for the power of the phoenix humming in my blood, but not out of an instinctual defense, but with true purpose.
Pushing off the wall, I closed my eyes as I brought my hands up on either side of me, flames sparking in my palms. Slowly I coaxed the flames higher; as my mother had said, in this realm there was no struggle for control, no demands to unleash fury upon the world. It was eager, though, as I built it stronger, pushing more of my energy into it. I opened my eyes and had to squint against the light I’d created. I was a signal fire, calling to my ancestor—my patron goddess.
And she responded.
She pulled the flames from me, creating a burning trail in the cavern to follow. It was only a few more turns, and her pull on my power, my very being, grew stronger as I neared her. Then, without warning, I crossed into a small cave, and it was like stepping into a vacuum.
The flames were rent from me and I collapsed onto my knees into black sand, hollowed out. I gasped and coughed, struggling to breathe. Tears streamed from my eyes, only to evaporate before they reached my jaw. I forced myself to look up, to try to fight whatever force it was stealing my life from my chest.
Before me was a woman sitting cross-legged, hands resting on her knees, eyes closed, and a small satisfied smile on her face. She was covered in flames—no, she was the flames, burning so brightly the fire danced between blue and orange. I realized, over the frantic beating of my heart, I could hear her burning.
When she opened her eyes, fear flooded into me even as my vision began to darken. This was not a fae or a human. Suanach Aoife had transcended both the mortal and fae world. If there were such things as divine beings, certainly she had attained divinity. And she was a goddess of destruction.
:Daughter of mine.: I wanted to scream as her voice ripped through my mind. She was not gentle like Kaden. Her voice overwhelmed as if I was a dry forest and she a wildfire. I was nothing before her, utterly insignificant while she was everything. My arms buckled and I fell to the ground, curling up as my body was racked with tremors. :Let the flames reveal your true self.:
I forced myself to look at her as she leaned forward, one hand outstretched towards me. I couldn’t move, my chest burning from suffocation. She pressed two fingers between my eyes and the world erupted into fire.
Chapter 10
Brom
The sounds of the city infiltrated the estate, even nearing midnight. The terrestris called New York the city that never sleeps, the Syndicates called it New Londonium, and such as a rose—no matter the name—the city was still the same. My father enjoyed the location of this house, so large and set in a neighborhood which oozed wealthy secrets. Neighbors did not call on each other here. Too many mistresses, drugs, black market artwork, and even worse. The crimes which the mundane of the city entertained themselves paled compared to the crimes of the Syndicates.
Crimes that I had learned to control and manage. I had been trained to rule an empire of blood and bone.
I preferred my penthouse to this monolith of power. My father believed his lessers would respect him through his displays of wealth, of success, of brutality. Why else would a vampire have white marble halls if not to amplify the blood sprayed against them? My father, though, was a small man. His peers in the opposing Syndicates sneered at him. He was not a clever man, nor especially intelligent. He was brutal and quick to anger. His justice was meted out through fang and claw. Infractions were punished by death, no matter how minor. He ruled out of fear.
I had read Machiavelli and his treatise on whether it was better to be loved or feared. And like the Italian philosopher, I could come to no concrete decision. Vampires were still human at heart, an evolved version of the terrestris we lived among and fed from. Pushed too far and they would revolt, striking the hand that controled them, but given too much freedom they would grow gluttonous and their worth erode away like a sand dune in a windstorm.
“Master Tepes.”
I turned my gaze from the city, bursting with color and life against the black night of the sky, to the assistant I had appointed. My father had sent his entire staff to die under my hand, and I had been carefully filling each position.
Mrs. Widmere had been my first choice for my assistant. She was older than me, near my mother’s age, moderately powerful, and wickedly intelligent. Importantly, I had learned from my inquiries, she never had much desire for political machinations. Which meant I brought her into the midst of it.
“Your sister has arrived,” she continued, her hands behind her back. She dressed appropriately for an assistant
to such a powerful man. Black knee length skirt and a matching blazer over a silky white blouse. There would be no attempt at seduction from my assistant. She was happily married, not that it had stopped others. I, however, had made it known that if she tried I would have no hesitation slitting her wrists and throwing her into a pit of starving vampires. “And the others you’ve requested await in the audience chamber.”
“Good.” I moved to the chair where I’d tossed my suit jacket and slipped it on, my eyes scanning over the ledgers in front of me. “See to it that she has all she requests.”
“She requested to see you,” she responded almost apologetically.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Of course, she did. I buttoned my jacket, nodding my head once in decision, and strode past Mrs. Widmere as I responded. “Then please escort her to the audience chamber.”
“Very good, sir.”
She turned towards the stairwell and I made my way to the audience chamber, the very room where I drained my father of blood before taking his place. I paused outside my private entrance, settling my mind. And, like so many quiet moments before, Eleanora slipped into my thoughts.
The power her blood gave me no longer churned through my veins, but my skin still burned with the memory of her touch. Her race towards safety had terrified me in a way I’d never experienced. I was ready to destroy the entire world with my own hands if that was what was required. If Madam Jupiter wanted to get her hands on Eleanora, the price would be steep and soaked in blood.
She and Romulus were in the land of his ancestors, in the care of unknown magical creatures, and it rankled me. It had been a week without communication and I was on edge; I loathed being in the dark when it came to matters close to my heart. And Ella? She may as well be my heart. To have her parted from me, from us, with no way to stand at her side and fight for her—it was as if I were being slowly roasted. The longer there was no communication, the more strained I grew.
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