by Eva Brandt
I refused to allow it.
My presence might not have been mandatory, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t go. This notice might mean more than a manifestation of the classical “I know better than you, so don’t get involved, human” attitude the Alarians so often displayed. Like Serena had pointed out, the Alarian way of life was all about following the rules. Darius might have become a criminal in their eyes, but he was still a prince.
I hadn’t received any news at all regarding Malachai’s trial, and I had no idea when it was going to happen. Declan’s situation remained in a similar limbo, and when he’d been tried, I’d just been left to wait in a side room, with next to no information about what would happen to him. But Malachai and Declan were only Guardians, outsiders who had betrayed the trust of the Alarians.
I frowned, brushing my fingers over the filigreed letters. What did that mean for me and for my position? Could this be the reason why the Alarians had decided I needed to stay here? But that didn’t make sense. My tentative bond with Darius was what had led him to his current condition, in the first place, and Darius’s parents should have at least found it dangerous, if not distasteful.
What were they playing at? Were they just following due process here, or was there more going on?
In any case, I would not abandon Darius either, just like I would not abandon Malachai. “I understand, Enforcer Ayers,” I told Serena. “His family will be there. Everything will go smoothly, I’m sure of it.”
If Serena found my agreement suspicious, she did not show it. Perhaps she simply believed that even if I did have something up my sleeve, I would not actually be able to interfere. I couldn’t blame her for that, but I still asked, “Until then, would it be possible for me to see him? I haven’t been allowed to visit his healing room.”
“I’m afraid it is not my prerogative to give you such permissions,” Serena replied. “You will have to request an audience with the king.”
Her answer, while unsurprising, made irritation surge through me. “I’ve already done that, and I’ve received no response.”
“His Majesty is a busy man. He will address your problem as swiftly as he can.”
Right. And by that time, Darius might very well be dead due to the fucking curse his own fucking mother had fucking cast on him.
The thought infuriated me so much that my already tenuous control on my magic started to fade. Power flared around me, angry and fierce, nothing like the subtler waves of mind magic that had allowed me to enter Vandale’s mind. The air around Serena and me seemed to melt as if it had a physical consistency that my ability was affecting. A kaleidoscope of colors started flashing in my vision, swirling and swaying in a hypnotizing dance. Electricity swept over my skin, making my hair stand on end and my body pulse with light and energy.
The feel and sight of what I was doing reminded me far too much of the battle with Vandale, of the way he had been able to affect both Darius’s mind and the air he and everyone else breathed. In a panic, I scrambled to suppress the swell of energy and draw it back inside of me. Miraculously, I was successful, but by the time I managed to regain control, my head had begun to spin, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I leaned against the wall in a last-ditch attempt to not fall over and embarrass myself in front of Serena.
Truth be told, I half-expected her to show some signs of concern, if only because my little display could have been dangerous for her. Perhaps I was overestimating the extent of my skills, though, because Serena was still there, still unruffled, watching me with calm, inscrutable eyes. “Ms. Hastings, are you all right?” she asked. “Do you need me to call a healer?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” I replied. Returning to the healers was the last thing I wanted to do right now. “I just got a little light-headed.”
Serena frowned, a barely-there expression that nonetheless pointed out she did not believe me. Then again, how could she? Even a human would’ve been able to tell that my assessment of my condition was wildly inaccurate. “I see,” she answered. “Perhaps you should go lie down for a little while. You are still recovering from your ordeal.”
I stared at the library doors longingly. I didn’t need Serena’s fake concern or her advice. What I needed was some private time, a dictionary and a book that would actually point me in the right direction. Unfortunately, considering my current state, if I tried to get any work done, I was more liable to tear a book to pieces than I was to read it. As much as I hated to admit it, Serena had a point.
“You’re right, of course. I will go get some rest. Thank you for giving me Cardinal Vaughn’s message.”
“I will always follow His Holiness’s commands to the best of my ability,” Serena answered. “Have a good day, Ms. Hastings. Praised be the High King.”
I had no desire to mimic the frustrating, repetitive responses of the Alarians, but it looked like I wouldn’t have much choice in the matter. “Walk forward with honor,” I said in an attempt to compromise. I wasn’t Alarian, so I couldn’t include myself in that statement.
I didn’t wait for a reaction from Serena. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked away. I hoped like hell that this annoying episode wouldn’t incapacitate me for too long. I didn’t have time to be sick. I had some soulmates to save, and an entire library to go through.
* * *
Bjorn
Hidden in a small alcove, I watched the beautiful Lucienne Hastings exchange tense parting words with Serena, and then head back toward her quarters. Even if I hadn’t been an incubus, I would’ve been able to tell that she was as unhappy about the recent news as I had been. Her magical reaction alone had been both very impressive and somewhat alarming.
It gave me hope that Lucienne would agree with my plan, no matter how crazy, outrageous, and questionable it might be. At the same time, though, it also worried me. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this was happening now, after I had touched her in her mindscape.
It would have been kinder and safer to leave her alone, the way the Alarian code decreed. However, Prince Darius, Malachai Braun, and Declan Whelan had all tried that, and the results had been most unfortunate. That could only mean that I needed to take the opposite approach. Besides, we were both just as desperate to save Darius. I suspected that if I didn’t make her this offer, she would attempt something far more unreasonable than what I was planning.
I waited until I was sure Serena would not follow Lucienne and then left my hiding spot. I had to go around the library, through several other corridors and two secret passageways to catch up with Lucienne, but I knew the Palasion like the back of my hand. My job as an inquisitor required me to stay informed at all times, and I’d never been happier for the unrestricted access it granted me to every part of our headquarters.
I managed to find Lucienne just as she was approaching the guest wing. “Miss Hastings,” I called out to her. When she turned to look at me, I shot her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “Good morning. May I have a moment of your time?”
“Of course, Inquisitor Lindberg,” she replied, her tone level and unreadable. “Can I help you?”
“Actually, I think that we can help each other.” I lowered my voice, just in case anyone was nearby. The paladins stationed around the guest wing weren’t within view, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “I need to speak with you regarding a matter of great importance and delicacy. It concerns Prince Darius.”
Lucienne narrowed her beautiful eyes at me, and in that dark gaze, I saw a spark of something deep and vicious, a hidden anger that echoed the one I myself felt. Her emotions surged and I tasted them in my mouth, sharp and delicious. “I see. Well, then, I am at your disposal.”
She said nothing else as I led her to a painting strategically positioned on the wall in front of us. It was a large-scale full-body portrait that depicted a blond, bearded man dressed in elaborate golden robes and wearing the jeweled crown of The Pure Kingdom of Alaria. He was the High King Alaric, the creator of the only organ
ized nation of Accursed on the planet.
While the painting itself was stunning in its artistry, the secrets it hid were even more interesting than its beauty. I brushed my fingers over the white pendant dangling from Alaric’s neck and just like that, the painting slid away, revealing the passageway hidden beyond it.
Lucienne didn’t ask any questions, although I sensed a jolt of surprise and wariness. When I entered the passage, she followed me without a second of hesitation.
The moment the wall slid back into place, her demeanor changed. “Well, this is cozy and clandestine,” she said tightly. “I take it that whatever you want to discuss isn’t exactly something anyone else should hear.”
The levels of her trust in the Alarian justice system—especially The Pure Inquisition—had dropped to nothing. That was fine with me since I wasn’t here as an inquisitor.
“Not really, no. In fact, it comes close to treason, but I don’t think you care about such things.”
Lucienne snorted. “I’m not Alarian. It’s not treason for me, and even if it were, I wouldn’t give a shit. Tell me.”
Nervousness started swirling through my gut at the latter two words. This was my cue to approach the most problematic issue that stood in the way of my plan, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to dump this information on her. I didn’t know how she would react. It was dangerous, risky, and I couldn’t come up with the right words to explain.
I forced myself to speak, regardless. “Right. Before we get started on this, there’s something you need to know. I’m your soulmate.”
Lucienne just stared at me and her eyes started glowing dangerously in the darkness. The jumble of her confused emotions nearly sent me to my knees in its intensity. “Excuse me.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, one that made her disbelief more than a little clear. Even so, she hadn’t rejected my claim outright. It appeared that having three soulmates had made her more likely to accept the possibility of having a fourth one.
So far, so good.
“Don’t worry,” I rushed to assure her. “I don’t expect anything of you, and I don’t plan to kill myself either. I just thought I needed to be straightforward with you since keeping secrets in our situation might not end well.”
To my surprise, Lucienne laughed. The sound hurt, because it held no humor, only bitterness, and pain. “Well, that’s a nice change. Until now, my soulmates have been anything but honest.”
I already knew that, and I knew why they had done it. I had sensed it in Darius when I’d absorbed his emotions. He’d wanted to protect her, to keep her safe not just from the physical damage the curse could inflict upon her, but also from the emotional backlash.
“They had their reasons,” I told her, “and I can’t say I completely disagree with them.” Anger surged through Lucienne again, but I continued to speak before she could lash out at me. “Even so, I’m a little more selfish than them and I can’t take that approach.”
My hands started to shake as I forced myself to acknowledge what I needed to say.
“Listen, Ms. Hastings. Lucienne. Having a soulmate… It’s not necessarily a guarantee you and that person are meant to fall in love at first sight. If it did, scavengers would be an anomaly instead of a genuine threat to the world as we know it. Granted, a lot of us—including me—feel a bond to the person we are a match for. I’m not sure if you have experienced that phenomenon, considering your latent nature, but it’s there.
“Despite that, there are some things that I find just as valuable and precious as the soulmate bond. Prince Darius’s life is that for me. I’m sorry. I just… I can’t let him die.”
There was nothing worse than having to make this terrible choice. I felt vile for even saying the words. But that was exactly why they needed to be said, because I had to explain my reasoning. I had to tell her the truth and trust that she would understand and help me anyway.
A sharp pang of grief and guilt coursed through Lucienne, so powerful it felt like a dagger to my chest. “Oh. The two of you… You were… involved? Before I showed up?”
I shook my head. “Not as such. I’m an incubus, so having sex with me is very questionable, especially for an Alarian prince. I feed on both emotions and sensations, so engaging in intercourse is practically asking for trouble and guaranteeing the fact that I’ll become a scavenger. But he always meant a lot to me, even when I thought he would only ever see me as a valued, trusted subordinate.”
If we could have continued with our lives that way, it would’ve been enough. It would’ve been enough to just see him every day and know that he was safe. My existence among the Alarians might have been a shadow of what it was supposed to be, but at the same time, I’d been content with just seeing him.
I no longer had that privilege.
“I see,” Lucienne murmured. “I know this won’t help, as words are cheap, but I’m so sorry. Because of me, he—”
“It’s not your fault, not really,” I cut her off, passing a hand through my hair. “I won’t lie, Lucienne. Before I actually met you, when he first told me about you, I hated you. I wished you had died in that incident at the club. What can I say? I’m not a very kind person.”
“You don’t need to be. I understand completely, and you’re not wrong to have wanted that.”
Her silent grief made me ache inside as well. “Maybe, maybe not. In any case, it doesn’t matter anymore. I changed my mind after meeting you. I believe that despite all the dangers, trying this would be worth the risks. It will at least buy us some time and keep the Alarians from executing Darius and Guardian Braun.”
Hope replaced the sorrow in Lucienne’s heart, the switch so fast it almost gave me whiplash. “Malachai as well? How? And do you think you can find a way to break the curse?”
“I don’t know if I have any hope of fixing a problem people have been trying to find a solution to since the time of the Romans. Even so, I’m not ready to give up. And every system has a weakness, even the Alarian one. We just have to make sure to exploit it to the fullest.”
“I’m game,” Lucienne replied, now excited. “What did you have in mind?”
This was the hard part. Well, the other hard part. “Lucienne, this is going to sound very weird, but I need to borrow your power.”
Two
The Vampire and the Incubus
Lucienne
I’d expected many things when I’d agreed to have a conversation with Inquisitor Bjorn Lindberg. More questions about what I’d seen in Mathias Vandale’s mind. A demand for me to leave behind The Pure Kingdom of Alaria and everything related to the Accursed. Maybe even a threat that would make me behave and stop trying to see Malachai in prison.
I didn’t expect his confession that he was my soulmate or the manner in which he phrased it. And I certainly did not expect the nature of his plan.
For a few seconds, I just stood there, contemplating his words. He didn’t immediately provide an explanation, but his somewhat uncomfortable expression made me draw a quick conclusion. “So… You want to what? Have sex with me?”
I didn’t know how I felt about that. It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive, because I did. He was just as handsome as Darius, albeit in an entirely different way. Tall and dark-haired, with eyes darker than Mathias Vandale’s soul, he would have made any woman—or man—he gave his attention to very happy.
But I wasn’t just anyone, and honestly, the idea of following his suggestion felt a little like cheating on the soulmates I’d already known I had. But on the other hand, I did believe that Bjorn genuinely wanted to help Darius. He wouldn’t have jumped through all these hoops just to get between my legs. That was stupid.
“I suppose that if it’s really necessary, we could do it.”
Bjorn shook his head, his eyes a little wide. “It’s not! I mean… All-out sex is not really necessary. I will absolutely need to kiss you, though, and it is true that the deeper the connection goes, the easier and more useful the transference pro
cess will be.”
When he uttered the word ‘transference’, it occurred to me that he hadn’t explained what exactly he meant by borrowing my power. How did the process even work? I couldn’t jump into this without knowing the details.
Bjorn must have noticed my confusion—or perhaps sensed it—because he proceeded to elaborate. “Incubi don’t just absorb emotions when they feed on others. They absorb their powers. Take Prince Darius. I fed on him to help him keep control of the side-effects of the Alarian Vow. The end result was that I managed to temporarily gain his fire-wielding abilities, which you may have noticed in the battle with the plagues. I can’t normally do that.”
Oh. I’d never realized that. When he had said ‘incubus’, my mind had gone to ‘demon’, a creature I’d naturally deemed fire-aligned. I shouldn’t have found it surprising that things didn’t work that way among the Accursed. “Right,” I said. “So in this case, you’re going after my mind magic.”
Bjorn nodded. “You’re a very powerful mind mage, but you don’t have any real training at it, and that limits you. Bidding you against an Alarian trained in such arts would be a recipe for disaster, even if you might have the potential to beat him. I, on the other hand, have an affinity for such things, and I would be able to do a lot with the power you possess.”
“And who do you intend to target? King Sterling?”
“No. That would be too dangerous. I’m not familiar enough with his abilities, and I have no way of getting him alone. There’s also his wife, who would notice if something was wrong. I’m going for Cardinal Vaughn. He has a daughter who is a healer, but they’re not really that close, and she wouldn’t think to look for any… foreign influences.”
The implication of his words should have upset me. I should have at least found it questionable. He was talking about mind control and judging by his expression, he wasn’t planning to be kind.
I couldn’t have cared less. After the letter I’d received earlier, I was looking forward to some payback. More importantly, brainwashing the cardinal would grant me access to both Darius and Malachai. It was perfect.
