by Kiki Howell
“I will let him go, if you agree to leave with me.” Caine looked up, meeting her gaze. His eyes were clear, the rage and hate gone. Whatever was inside him was held at bay, for the moment at least.
“Leave?” She drew her hand away, her mind spinning in confusion.
“Leave. Leave here.” He lifted his chin, looking around the cottage. “Leave with me to start a new life together. Let’s get away from this place, Natalya.” His eyes took on a desperate intensity.
“I’ve given up thinking I can go home. But I haven’t given up wanting a life with you.”
Gabriel made a gurgling noise, his feet beating against the floor. Caine turned back, holding the knife against the vampire’s throat.
“Move, and it’s over. Stay still, and you may live yet another day.” Gabriel’s eyes flickered from Caine to Natalya. He drew another choking breath.
“You can’t be serious, whelp. Where will you go?” The sneer was evident in Gabriel’s voice. Caine leaned forward. He traced the tip of the knife along Gabriel’s cheek. A thin line of blood appeared, one drop forming, running down his cheek. Gabriel grimaced, his eyes narrowing.
“You’re dead, whelp. Do me in now, or you’ll live to regret this.”
“Believe me, bastard, I would.” Caine sat back suddenly. “But Natalya is more important to me, than killing you.”
“Then get off me, Nequam.”
Caine remained where he was, a slow smile curving his lips. The smile carried no warmth though.
“Not so fast. You may live, but you’re not going free. At least not until next sunset.” Caine turned back to Natalya. “Rope? And fetch some aconite. It grows down the lane.”
She blanched. Aconite was poison. “I can’t pick aconite. It will kill me, as it will him.”
“Use gloves. Quickly.”
Natalya rose. Rope: the only rope she knew was at the well. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen table, ran outside, and cut the rope that held the bucket over the well. She heard the wooden bucket crashing against the stone sides of the well, then the distant splash. Running back, she dropped the rope next to Caine.
The only gloves she owned were from her mortal days, a pair of dove gray suede dress gloves she’d taken, in a moment of sentimentality. She flung open the chest in her room, tossing silks and satins aside, finding the gloves at the bottom. Tugging them over her hands, she ran back through the main room. Caine had Gabriel face down, rope running from his bound hands through some complicated knot work at his back, and somehow involved Gabriel’s ankles. She barely had time to register what she saw, before she was out the door.
Leaving the cottage, she ran down the path toward the lane that led to the village. Aconite grew in a low damp spot just off the path. She hesitated only briefly, then tore away handfuls of the plant. She held it gingerly, as she ran back to the cottage, its yellow flowers falling behind her.
“I have the plant.” She held it out to Caine with the tips of her fingers.
He took it, barehanded, and she gasped. The touch of aconite on bare skin was agony to a vampire. But Caine handled it with no apparent injury.
Gabriel was still face down on the floor, his arms wrenched behind him, knees bent upward. Hands and feet were bound together with the stout rope. He looked like nothing more than a trussed pig, heading to market.
Caine took the aconite, and spread it in a circle around Gabriel, surrounding the wide-eyed vampire with the plant. Caine stood back, looking down at his handiwork.
“Not the best. He’ll be able to escape soon enough. But by then, we’ll be gone.” He turned to Natalya. “Gather just what we need, nothing more. We leave now.”
Standing in her small cottage, Caine looked larger than life, a man returned from battle, bloody but not defeated, his foe at his feet. His eyes were clear, head held high.
He was no longer the man she’d watched at the lake. Her Caine had changed, not just from mortal to Nequam, but from gentle fisherman, to proud warrior.
Chapter Eight
“ARE YOU READY to go?”
Natalya turned. Caine stood at the door to her room. He’d washed the blood from his face, and changed into hunting clothes. The silver knife was still in his hand.
“Yes.” She clutched her leather satchel, holding so few belongings. She glanced around the room, at her pillows and silk bedcoverings, the brocade hangings, and damask sheets, all to be left behind. None of it mattered anymore. She turned back to Caine. “I am.”
From the other room, she heard several loud thumps, followed by a muffled voice. Caine turned away, and she followed him to where Gabriel lay on the floor. She stopped, taking in the sight. Gabriel’s clothes were shredded, pale skin showing through the tears. A wad of what she recognized as one of the pillowcases from the outshot, was stuffed in his mouth. The vampire glared up at her with blood red eyes, grunting.
“I see you’ve gagged him. And stripped him.” Natalya stepped carefully around Gabriel’s body, as he craned his neck, trying to keep both her, and Caine in his sight.
“It seemed the best thing. I don’t want him attracting any attention. As you know, he likes to talk. And the clothes...” Caine gestured with the knife. “He’s surrounded by aconite. A touch to his skin would be searing. The risk of the pain might just be enough to hinder him, for a while at least. I’ve been able to keep him still with the threat of the knife to his throat.”
“Then we should be on our way.” Natalya took one last look at Gabriel. Caine moved past her, opening the door to the silent night outside the cottage.
She knelt down a short distance from Gabriel. He looked up at her, his eyes holding a mute appeal. “This isn’t how I wanted this to end, Gabriel. I may not have wanted you, but I wanted no harm to come to you either. You brought this on yourself, with whatever fantasy you created about us, played out against Caine’s life.”
Gabriel grunted again, rocking violently back and forth on the floor. A leaf of aconite brushed his thigh, and he jerked violently, eyes closed in silent agony. The scent of burning flesh rose, and filled the room.
“Careful, Gabriel.” She stood, and watched him a moment longer. He lay still, breathing heavily, eyes filled with hate. She turned her back on him, and left the cottage, closing the door behind her.
Caine was waiting at the path. “Which way?” He took the satchel,
“Away from the village. To the mountains.” She pointed toward the east. “Toward the rising sun.”
They traveled swiftly, intent on covering as much ground as possible, with the threat of Gabriel following them, and the sun waiting to greet them, spurring them on. There was no time for words, as they flew through the shadows. It was close to dawn when Natalya finally stopped. Caine drew up beside her. They’d been traveling over increasingly steep terrain, and were now poised at the foot of a massive mountain. She heard the rasp of his breath, and turned toward him. He was bent forward, hands on his knees, gulping for air.
“You’re exhausted. I should have...”
He held up one hand, then raised his head to look at her. “We don’t have time for my frailties. I’m fine.” Standing straight, he took a deep breath. “I can keep up. It builds my endurance.”
“Fine. If you feel you can continue. We have only a few hours before sunrise, and a long way to go.”
“And if you don’t mind my asking, just where are we going?”
Natalya held his gaze a moment longer. His breathing had almost returned to normal, and he stood calmly before her. But they really needed to continue. “Come. We can walk, and talk at the same time, at least for a few minutes.”
“When I left my sire, I came over these mountains. I was exhausted, mad with hunger, when I came upon a small hut in the forest.” Her voice faltered.
“The sun was almost up. My intent was to kill whomever lived there, drain them dry, and then stay there for that night. But when I burst in, I found Malachi.”
“Who’s Malachi?”
“He is
a vampire, a very, very old vampire. He knew I was there before I even got to the door, knew how hungry I was. He met me with a goblet of fresh blood. Then he took me under his wing, taught me how to survive in this world. Taught me good from evil. I owe my life to him.”
“Why would have left him behind?”
“I felt restless back then, as though I was destined to find a Seethe that would serve as my family. I hadn’t had the good sense to be grateful for the few people in my life. I thought being a member of a Seethe would make me feel whole once again. I was foolish.”
“Have you seen him since? How do you know he’s still living there?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been back.” In her heart, she prayed that Malachi was still living in the forest. She had no reason to think he wasn’t, but it had been years. And he’d been beyond old, even then.
They walked in silence a few more paces. “Then you’re more like me than I realized.”
“I guess that’s true.” She glanced at Caine, and caught him looking at her.
“We should hurry. There’s not much left of the night. I don’t want to spend the daylight buried in the dirt, with Gabriel, and his pack of wolves on the prowl.”
She nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Gabriel is more of a threat, than the wolves. This is past their range. But still...we should move on.”
She caught the glint of his fangs, as he smiled. “I’ll race you to the top.”
MALACHI’S HUT WAS JUST as she’d remembered, a small-timbered, single room building, set deep within a towering stand of ancient pines beside a waterfall. Just the sight of it sent her heart soaring. Malachi had given her protection when she had needed it most. There was hope for them.
Caine ran ahead of her down the path, hand poised to knock on the door. Natalya managed to put herself between him and the door, and shot him a warning glance. “Malachi doesn’t always take kindly to strangers knocking, especially not so close to dawn.” She turned, and lifted her fist to knock.
Before she knocked, the door swung open to reveal a tall, powerfully built man wearing vermillion robes. His dark hair was slicked back from his face, his mustache and long, thin beard perfectly trimmed, and his eyes were a piercing blue, as they locked on Caine briefly, then shifted to Natalya. “Malachi also doesn’t appreciate people talking about him, as though he couldn’t hear every word they said.”
Natalya smiled, relief flooding through her. “Malachi. Thank God you’re here.”
“Where else would I be, my child? It is an unexpected pleasure to see you again. How is it I find you on my doorstep? And who accompanies you?”
Natalya took Caine’s arm, pulling him forward. “Malachi, this is Caine. And as to how we got here, and why, it’s a very long story.”
Malachi arched a black brow, his eyes shifting to Caine. “Ah, Caine.” Natalya held her breath, as Malachi’s gaze traveled over Caine. There was a moment of heavy silence, then Malachi smiled. “My life has been rather dull as of late, and I can always use a good tale, at the very least.”
He stepped back, a smile curving his lips. He ushered them in, the wide sleeve of his robe swishing, as he fluttered his hands in a gesture that spoke of the urgency. “Come on in, then. Quickly now, before the sun gets up, and we are all roasted to death.”
CAINE ROSE WELL BEFORE sunset. He was restless, still full of the energy that had fueled their flight. His mind spun with the questions he’d been unable to ask during their headlong flight through the forest.
Beside him, Natalya still slept. As much as he wanted to wake her, to talk to her, he knew it was too early. And as much as he wanted her, to take comfort in her body, this wasn’t the time, or place. Malachi had been kind enough to give them his bed, wrapping himself in his cloak, and laying down in an alcove by the hearth. Caine wondered if Natalya’s giving over her room to him, was a reflection of how she’d been treated by Malachi.
The cot was narrow, with course linen sheets, a far cry from Natalya’s lavish bed with silks and satins. But he was overwhelmingly thankful to have a safe place for them to sleep, even if that sleep had been fitful.
A noise from the hearth caught Caine’s attention. Sitting up, he watched, as Malachi slowly unwound himself from his cloak, gracefully rising from the hearth. Malachi watched him for a long moment, and Caine wondered if the old vampire remembered who was sleeping in his bed.
Then the old man smiled. He gestured to Caine to join him. Caine slipped from beneath the blankets, and padded barefoot across the room.
“Sit, boy. Tell me how you came to know my Natalya.”
Caine pulled out a small stool, while Malachi eased his frame into a padded chair by the fire.
“She saved my life. I was attacked by a vampire, who intended to kill me. Natalya saved me, fed me—and has been caring for me since.” Caine drew a breath, ready to continue with his tale, but he was interrupted by Malachi.
“And now you’re a Nequam because of this attack, and because of Natalya.”
It was not a question, but a statement of fact. Caine’s heart stuttered in his chest, his mouth going dry. The vampire chuckled. “I know a Nequam when I see one, boy. When you’re as ancient as I am, there are no more surprises, or very few.” He regarded Caine for a moment, blue eyes lively beneath the black brows.
“You have questions. Possibly I have answers.”
Caine was certain every question he possessed was known to Malachi, but the vampire remained silent.
“Gabriel—the vampire who tried to kill me—tried again. He lured me to a clearing, where there were wolves waiting. He said because of the Mistress’s decree, he could not kill me. But he left me at the mercy of the wolves.”
Malachi shifted in his chair, brows drawing together. “Likely he left you at the mercy of the Moonbay Clan. Powerful indeed. And once, sworn enemies of the Seethe.”
“Once sworn? But no longer?”
“No longer.” Malachi’s laugh held no mirth. “The Mistress Mirella met with their Alpha, I believe his name to be Willem, and forged a treaty between the Clan, and her Seethe. Treaty for the Clan to protect the Seethe, and a treaty for the Seethe to let the Clan do as they please on Seethe lands.”
Caine frowned. “It seems a rather strange alliance.”
One elegant eyebrow lifted. “Stranger bedfellows. Mistress and Alpha are...were lovers.”
“A vampire, and a werewolf? Together?”
“It was in the time before she became a vampire, long before she became Mistress. The treaty is convoluted and confusing, but it serves the Alpha, and the Mistress. It seems love conquers all, in the end.”
Malachi’s explanation only brought more questions to Caine’s mind. “How is it then that I was attacked on Seethe lands?”
“You were lured, you were left. And you are not marked.”
“Marked? Marked how?”
“Newly minted vampires are marked by the Seethe Mistress, a secret ceremony recognizable to the Clan. You were not marked. If you were, you would have not been attacked, even if Gabriel lured you there. To be marked would have meant you possess something the Seethe Mistress desires. You do not possess that thing.”
Malachi stopped speaking, eyes narrowing. “Or you do possess something. Something that frightens the Seethe Mistress.” Malachi sat forward suddenly, his blue eyes focused on Caine. Caine wanted to step away from the intensity of that gaze.
“You have just become far more interesting, boy.”
“But I’m just a Nequam, nothing to the Seethe Mistress. Certainly nothing for her to be concerned about.”
“Nothing that you know of, perhaps. But she certainly knows.” Malachi tapped his temple with one long forefinger. “Mistress knows everything.”
Chapter Nine
THE DOORS TO the throne room opened. Willem stood in the doorway, surrounded by his entourage. At the sight of him, Mirella’s heart skipped a beat, then took off at a pace like that of a frightened rabbit. She drew a breath, willing her hea
rt to slow. It had been decades since they’d been lovers, but he still had the same effect on her.
“Willem. Welcome.” She raised her hand, beckoning him forward. “You may approach.”
Willem strode across the room, eyes never leaving her face. He stopped before her throne, and stood for a long moment, watching her. Challenging her. She held out her hand. Ceremony demanded he kneel, and kiss her hand, but Willem was never one to stand on ceremony.
Finally, he bent on one knee, lowering himself until he was kneeling on the floor before her throne.
“I suppose it’s too much to expect you to lower your head.” She tried for a commanding tone, barely managing to keep her voice steady.
He grinned at her, lifting his head higher. A familiar warmth spread through her, and she took another steadying breath. He sniffed the air, and she cursed herself for her weakness, for allowing him to still have control over her emotions.
He rose, reached for her hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles. She barely managed to control the shiver that ran through her, at his touch. He held her a moment longer before, with another roguish grin, he released her.
“Mirella, as always, it is good to see you again.”
She bristled, the sound of her name, the familiar use at such a time unnerving her. “May I ask why you’ve asked to meet me on such short notice, Willem?”
The smile faded from Willem’s face. “A Nequam killed several of our own tonight. One of your Nequam, no doubt.” There was a restless shifting among the men behind Willem, a faint growl that made the hair on the nape of her neck, rise.
“We understand he was under your protection, but he was not marked. He was on Seethe lands, and violently attacked, and killed members of my pack. We seek retribution.”
Mirella shifted in her chair. “He was under my protection, yes, but he was to be cast out. He is—as a Nequam—weak. Consequently, he is of no use to me, or the Seethe.”
