Blood and Hexes: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (After Darkness Falls Book 4)

by May Sage

  It looked like she was going to deal with some trouble, after all. Diana grinned, before launching herself at him. Hell if she was going to let him get the first hit.

  Instead of deflecting her flying kick as she expected him to, he let it hit his head, and grabbed her leg, to throw her hard, before pinning her shoulders to the ground. She wrapped her legs around his torso and flipped him over her head. Diana just had time to rise to a crouch when he kicked low, his feet brushing the grass under her feet.

  "Guys?" Belial's interjection barely registered. She dismissed it, jumping just in time to avoid being tripped over. All of a sudden, the vampire was right behind her, his powerful hand grabbing her throat.

  He bared his teeth at her. "I will bite you if you don't submit," he promised.

  What a barbarian! She hissed, and kicked him hard in the stomach.

  "Guys!" Belial called, a little louder.

  The guardian shot him one look. Taking advantage of his distraction, Diana attempted to move, but his grip tightened around her throat. He growled at her, pissed.

  "Can you stop for one minute? I have something to say."

  "I'll deal with you after," the guardian promised.

  He knew Belial, Diana realized. He knew him, and didn't like him one bit.

  "Mikar!" someone shouted behind him. Diana's entire body stiffened, recognizing that voice more than she knew her own.

  "Not now, Alexius," Mikar growled.

  "Yes, now. Let her go."

  Mikar's silver eyes looked past her, to the border.

  To her brother.

  "She's trying to break into Oldcrest."

  "She isn't breaking in, you Neanderthal. It's my sister. This is her home."

  Glimpse of Hellfire

  Alexius’s sister? Dammit. The last thing Mikar needed was to piss off a Helsing.

  How could he have known, though? The sensual brunette had been talking about blowing up their defenses. With Belial, of all people. No one could blame him for going for the throat.

  Besides, she looked nothing like Alexius. He was blond, to her long, soft dark locks, falling in waves around her sweetheart face. His eyes were blue, hers dark as night, when they didn't turn blood-red. Mikar couldn't immediately pinpoint a single common feature between them. And though it had been a while, Mikar did remember Alexius’s sister. She’d been a rail-thin, sickly thing, who could probably have keeled over if a burst of wind a little too strong blew her way.

  She most definitely wasn’t any of that now.

  He knew he should immediately release the long, delicate neck he was crushing in his hand, now that he knew she wasn't a threat to his home, but that was easier said than done. The beast inside him refused to comply. It wanted her right where she was: at his mercy. Slowly, he made his dark inner self retreat, relaxing his fingers. No sooner had he let her go than she brought a sharp knee to his groin. The woman watched with evident glee as he bent over, groaning at the unexpected attack on his poor, shriveling balls.

  "Fuck!"

  "That'll teach you." The woman grinned, and turned her back on him to face Alexius.

  She made no move to approach her brother. Alexius didn't advance, either.

  After a long moment, Alexius tilted his chin to her in greeting. "What's up, shorty?"

  "Vampires are supposed to get hotter after changing. Why are you still so ugly?" she asked him, shaking her head in disbelief.

  They were siblings, all right. Mikar used to have the same sort of dynamic with his own brothers and sisters, before everything. The plague. The screams. The death. Most of all, death. As he always did when memories of the past crept in, he chased them away.

  Finally able to stand up without wanting to cry, he reluctantly redirected his attention to the man he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. "What are you doing here, Lial?" His voice had an edge, because there was no acceptable answer. Belial was the last person whose presence he wanted to suffer.

  Unsurprisingly, the demon was entirely unaffected by his tone. Mikar supposed that Belial, mystical pain in the butt, rarely received a red-carpet welcome. He must have been used to animosity.

  "I actually have no idea. I was in a bar when…never mind. This delightful ray of sunshine brought me here," he replied, gesturing to Alexius's sister.

  The woman snorted, exchanging a knowing look with Lial. They were sharing a secret, and Mikar didn't like it one bit.

  "He was passed out," she told Mikar with unabashed delight. The girl then strutted away to wrap her arms around her brother's neck. Alexius hugged her so tight the hold must have been painful. "You're really out of the borders," she choked. "Without…you know, your face being peeled off, or anything."

  Alexius laughed. "Charming as ever, Diana."

  Mikar was glad to be reminded of her name. "Alexius's sister" didn't cut it in his mind. Diana. It was a strong, regal name that suited her to a T.

  "I'm glad you're here. I wondered when you'd come." After a beat, Alexius amended his statement. "I wondered if you were coming at all."

  The two of them shared a look full of untold history that made Mikar feel like he was intruding on a moment.

  He chose to concentrate on the demon he hadn't wanted to see ever again. "I meant, what are you doing in this world? Didn't you do enough damage the last time you were here?"

  Lial was indifferent to Mikar's ire. "The last time I was on Earth, I got pissed-out drunk and hung out with college chicks for a weekend. Just because we haven't crossed paths in a few thousands years doesn't mean that I haven't popped by for a holiday."

  Now, Mikar was pissed. He hated the thought of Belial being here, but his having been to Earth without coming to see him seemed like a worse betrayal. "You have no right to be here." His fangs extended without volition, sharp edges biting into his lower lip. "None."

  "Oh? I didn't realize you owned the keys to this world." Without warning, all humor suddenly left Belial's eyes. If Mikar didn't know better, he would have thought that the look in his eyes was something like regret. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but it's been a while now. When are you going to admit none of it was my fault?"

  "I don't know, probably about when you'll admit you ruin everything you touch."

  Belial's chuckle didn't hold an ounce of warmth. "Dramatic, much?"

  Mikar shook his head.

  The last time they'd seen each other, Mikar had been shattered in a thousand pieces, lost, without an anchor. He'd needed Belial. He'd needed his friend. His sire. But Belial had dropped him at someone else’s doorstep and bailed.

  "Get out of here, Lial. It's what you do best."

  The demon remained planted where he was for what could have been ten seconds or ten minutes, glaring at Mikar. Finally, he shrugged. "Gladly." He started to walk away, then looked over his shoulder. "By the way, you might like to know there's a hellwitch on the loose somewhere in this country. Pretty thing. Pink hair with black tips. I know you'll likely take pleasure in ignoring whatever I tell you, but heed this one piece of advice if you value your skin. You see her? Run in the opposite direction."

  "A hellwitch?" Catching the word, Alexius tore his eyes off his sister. “Wait a moment. You mean to say there’s an actual hellwitch on the loose?” he asked Belial.

  “What even is a hellwitch?” Mikar muttered. He didn’t want to deal with Belial any longer than necessary, but if Alexius was freaked, he should at least listen to the warning.

  Diana was the first to answer. “There are tons of types of witches. Whether they use the magic of their ancestors, sacrificial sources, or dig their power out of nature, most of them are mortals, and come from mortal ancestors. But humans weren't designed to wield magic at all: if they can, it's often because one of their ancestors was blessed by a god—or slept with one."

  Belial snorted. "More than likely, option two."

  "Particularly when it comes to hellwitches," continued Diana. "Basically, witch blood is supposed to be diluted as the descendants of the origin
al wielder breed with humans. That's why covens often try to stick to other witches—in order to maintain their power. Well, very occasionally, one of the descendants is born with a lot more power than anyone else in the family. Typically, it's because the soul attributed to them is one of an original witch’s. And as most witches are bound to the underworld, rather than paradise…we get a hellwitch."

  Mikar blinked, not quite understanding. "So, it's like the reincarnation of a powerful witch? But in the body of a normal one, without much magic, right?"

  Alexius shook his head. "That would be logical, but magic isn't that simple. Throw the soul of a middle-aged witch, probably hunted by vampires and wolves alike, hardened by a world where they were all despised, into a new body? It doesn't matter what their blood is like. They're all formidable. The White Clan frequently reincarnates their original twin witches, but they always mold them to ensure they become benevolent leaders." To Belial, he said, "Do you know where that witch is from? Why do you believe her to be a threat?"

  Mikar knew the demon well enough to realize that he was done sharing. His face was entirely closed off. "That's not important. I warned you. Listen, or don't." He tilted his chin to Diana. "I still owe you a favor. Call when you need to collect."

  On that note, blue and black flames hot enough for Mikar to feel them several feet away, surrounded Belial. Within seconds, he disappeared, leaving a scorched circle on the ground.

  Alexius huffed. "And he called you dramatic?"

  Echoes of Time

  They all stared at the black circle left by the demon for a beat too long.

  Suddenly, Diana was downright exhausted. No vampire her age needed much sleep, but she hadn't rested for a while, and right now, she wanted nothing more than to crash in one of the guest rooms on the hill. She hoped Alexius kept a few of them dusted off.

  "Are you going to let me in or what?" she asked her brother.

  Before Alexius could invite her into the territory, Mikar interrupted. "Wait."

  If the man protested against her walking into her own home, she was going to turn his balls into mochi cake and make him eat them.

  "We still haven't tested the theory that someone can walk in when they're touching an Oldcrest resident. Might as well try now."

  He could keep his testicles. For now. Diana wasn't likely to forget that the hottie had restrained her by the throat and threatened to bite her. And she certainly wasn't ready to forgive. Maybe he had taken her for an intruder, but that was no excuse. And she was all the more pissed off because part of her had liked it. It wasn't usual for a man—or a woman—to be able to get the best of her. The display of brawn had aroused the monster that was barely hidden under the surface at the moment.

  She was mature enough to admit that she hadn't exactly tried to explain herself. She was on edge. Plus, over the last few hours, she'd fought—three times, had met a demon, and had been informed about the Eirikrson clan coming back. That was more oddities than she'd seen since the start of the Age of Blood, at least. It had been a long night.

  "Good idea." Alexius offered his elbow.

  "Hang on a second." She went to her bike. The front wheel had been destroyed on impact, flattened into a pancake when it hit the barrier. Belial had been right: the shields around Oldcrest were seriously powerful. The rest was intact, but she couldn't hope to ride it without giving it a little TLC.

  She grabbed the bike by the exhaust and lifted it on one of her shoulders, upside down so the leather seat rested on her skin.

  "All right, I'm ready."

  "I can carry that," the guard offered in a reluctant grunt.

  She sent him the most condescending glare she could muster, before reaching her brother. She hadn't needed a man to hold her stuff for almost a thousand years. She certainly wasn't going to start now. Maybe he was offering an olive branch after the whole attack thing, but as she had no intention of forgiving him, she wasn't biting.

  Alexius chuckled, after looking between them.

  "What?" she asked her brother.

  He shrugged. "Not gonna say a thing at all. Come on, then."

  He took her hand, and together they stepped over the immaterial line.

  The moment the magic shield washed over her, Diana saw it. The three green hills, the lake shining under the dark of a reddening sky. The Wolvswoods. Adairford, the village where her old friends had lived back in the day. As a sickly kid, she wasn't likely to get along with the power-hungry lot on Night Hill. The castle that had housed a witch clan in her days.

  "It hasn't changed at all," she managed to say, her voice small.

  Time had barely caressed her home. She noticed a few newer buildings in the village, and in the distance, she could see that some of the houses on the hill had changed. But it was still the Oldcrest of her dreams. Oldcrest even smelled the same. Clear and pure.

  "Tell me about it." Alexius's mouth was thin. To him, the unchanging territory had been a prison.

  "I'm surprised you're here at all, rather than traveling the world," she mused.

  He shrugged, leading the way to Night Hill. "Things are complicated at the moment. Besides, my wife is a student here."

  Diana blinked. "Wife?" She'd known he was mated, but the specific term was a surprise to her. "You got hitched?"

  He grinned. "As of today, in fact. You're crashing a party. Not that I knew we were throwing it at all."

  He'd gotten married without her. Diana wasn't going to lie: that hurt. She hid it under a smile. "I'm… Wow. Congratulations. I wouldn't have thought you'd do the marriage thing. How mortal of you."

  Immortals didn't like marriages for various reasons. One of them being that most marriages promised a bond until death. Vampires their age had lived long enough to realize that after a while, they could get tired of their spouses. The fae used to swear to each other for a hundred years. A lot more reasonable.

  "Avani's my fated mate, Diana," Alexius told her. "I can't wait for you to meet her. In about one minute, I suppose."

  They were walking faster than a human could have run. At the gates, Diana dropped her bike and broke into a sprint.

  "Bill!" she yelled, rushing into the troll's open arms. "I can't believe you're still here!"

  The humongous squash-faced giant squeezed her close, all the while grunting. "I do not like you anymore. You didn't come back. For years and years!"

  He finally let her go.

  She winced. "I'm here now, Bill! And I brought you something."

  The troll sniffled. "Oh?"

  Returning to her bike, she opened the left saddlebag. She shuffled through her stuff, pulling out two pairs of boots before finding what she was looking for: an old metal container the size of a shoebox, rusted in places. She brought it back to the gates, and presented it to Bill.

  He flipped the lid open. Inside, there was an assortment of trinkets. Magnets, coins, spoons, little sculptures, keychains, stones, rings, pieces of lace, ribbons.

  "You remembered."

  When she'd left, he'd asked—well, he'd downright ordered—her to bring back something from where she went, so each time she visited a new country, she had ended up collecting one souvenir. There were over two hundred bibelots, from every single country in the world, including some that had long since fallen.

  "Duh. I'm a vampire, you know."

  His twisted face beamed, and he hugged her again, so close he lifted her up a good foot from the ground. "Maybe I still like you."

  "I like you too, Bill."

  He put her down gently. Diana patted herself to put her clothes back in order, and turned to get back to her bike. To her annoyance, the tall, dark, and handsome guy whose name she didn't even know was carrying it.

  Hand on her hip, she glared. "I don't need help."

  "I'm aware."

  He wasn't letting the bike go.

  "I don't like strangers touching my things."

  That wasn't accurate at all—she was all for sharing, never one to grow attached to material poss
essions. Except for her boots. But he didn't know that.

  "Good thing I'm no stranger."

  Her jaw set. "I don't know you."

  "Oh?" His tone was challenging. "And here I distinctly remember dragging you home once or twice, after you'd snuck out to play in Adairford."

  She hid her surprise. As a young child, Diana had snuck out a few times, to her mother's despair. On the rare days when she'd felt strong enough, all she'd wanted was to play with her friends. Her parents would have never allowed it. Helsings simply didn't mix with servants. None of the children on the hill were allowed anywhere near her either, for fear of their giving her any sort of sickness. Colds were alarming enough back in the day for most people, but from the moment she was born, some one month early, Diana had had a piss-poor immune system. She would never have survived if it weren't for magic. Her parents hadn't wanted to take any chances with her from that point. Her sole companion had been her older brother.

  She'd guessed that the man in front of her was ancient. No run-of-the-mill vampire could even hope to restrain her for a single second. She hadn't realized he might be older than dirt. Diana hadn't met anything this old in a long time. Ancient vampires didn't roam the streets at night. They remained in their seats of power, at the head of their clan—their family. She was within Oldcrest now. She shouldn't have been surprised to meet others like her here.

  She wondered what house he led. Not the Drakes—she knew all three of their ancients. Certainly not the Rosedeans—their matriarch wasn't even five hundred years old. Diana bit her lip. She knew everyone else. Everyone who mattered.

  "Who are you?"

  He stared at her, daring her to remember. Annoyed at herself for coming up blank, and at him for not making things easy, she shrugged. "Fine. You want to carry my stuff? Be my guest."

  She spun on her heel and strutted out of his space, crossing the open gates of the hill. Alexius laughed, until she shot him a nasty look.

  As she strode uphill, her eyes traveled upward, to the summit, and the dark house resting on it. Skyhall. The ultimate seat of power of Night Hill. The Eirikrson house.