Zahra stared him in the eyes and said nothing. Smoke whorled within their darkened depths. Silver sliced through it and held her immobile.
“It is a betrayal,” he murmured. “It breaks my heart. Why must you make me do this, Zahra?”
She made a choked sound as if she wanted to say something, but he wasn’t letting her.
He leaned forward. First, he placed his forehead against hers as if saddened. And then he kissed her. She didn’t struggle. I don’t think she could have. I watched as the smoke inside her eyes danced and twisted faster and faster and faster. But her magic was powerless against the Kral’s.
He squeezed her cheeks between his thumb and fingers and kissed her harshly. The kiss of death.
He pulled back. Searched her eyes.
“As you are blood, I will allow you one sentence in defence.”
She gasped in air and shook herself. He watched on impassively.
“Well?” he said.
She lifted smoke-filled eyes to his face and stared at him defiantly.
“Hakan Bahar is the true King,” she said.
He backhanded her. Then gripped her by her hair. My last look, before the ribbons tore me away, was the Kral dragging her towards a bed.
I came to, Zahra’s fangs out of my wrist, a horror-filled look in her eyes as she stared at me.
I fell backwards, scrabbled across the floor like a crab, and then promptly turned and puked my guts out.
The room went silent.
Hakan appeared at my side.
I forced myself to look at the woman across the room from us.
She met my eyes.
“You know,” she said, and the pain those words carried made Hakan still. Preternatural still.
He didn’t know.
I shared a look with Zahra. It spoke volumes. It clawed at my heart and left only shreds. She didn’t want her cousin to carry that guilt. She begged me not to tell him.
I slowly nodded my head. She closed her eyes, her body shaking. A detente was met.
Zahra would never betray us to the Kral because the Kral had betrayed her first.
12
I Have No Doubt
Night fell with the swiftness of a guillotine blade. I feared it would be as bloody.
Zahra had retreated into herself. She’d asked no more questions of my brother. Of what Hakan and I were asking of her. She nursed her wounds while Hakan prowled. He knew she was hiding something from him, but no amount of cajoling would make the Black Witch divulge her secret.
A secret I now knew.
I still felt sick to my stomach at the thought. A part of me had naturally softened toward the Mhachkay woman. But empathy was not what Zahra wanted. She wanted my silence.
And when the time came, she would want what I could offer. Her uncle. And his final death on a silver platter.
I wasn’t sure if my blood enchanted powers were strong enough to combat the Kral; her black magic hadn’t been. But given the right circumstances, a silver stake through his twin hearts could do the job just as well. I just had to get close enough.
First, though, I wanted to save my brother.
“It is time,” Hakan said. Zahra stirred, but one look at her eyes and I knew she was still not entirely present. Goran sheathed his recently cleaned and sharpened blades and stood to his full height.
I checked my stakes. My Svante. My Light. I did it twice before I stopped myself from fussing.
I was nervous. And, if I were honest with myself, I was scared. Terrified.
Never show fear, my mother’s voice sounded out inside my mind. A memory. One of many I had of her saying those exact words. Never show fear, Ellie. No matter what you feel. Never show fear.
It had taken a long time to learn how to do that. About as long as it had taken me to learn how to think before I spoke. Another lesson my mother had had to repeat often before I finally got it.
I schooled my features now and faced Hakan. He knew what I felt. He said nothing, simply held out his hand for me to grasp. I took it as though it was a lifeline.
My warrior prince had a soft heart; guarded with the steel of a Mhachkay sword.
I loved him. I loved everything about him. He may not have been my kindred, but he was my heart.
My mother would be proud. I had done it. I had entwined my blood with someone I loved. Someone who was worthy.
The betrothed kindred joining with Alain Dupont seemed like a lifetime ago. And now I understood better what my father had been trying to achieve, the fact he’d kept the secret from his most favoured spymaster made sense as well. It also made it easier to accept that part of my history finally. Alain had not been aware of what joining with an Enchanted would do. Perhaps Papa could have saved Luc from further Darkness had he confided in Alain at some point.
But Alain and been hiding things from my father. His increased strength. His increased speed. He was more than what he seemed, and I wondered if my father had suspected.
It was a dangerous tightrope the Champion walked. Trust versus survival. His children’s Light versus the spymaster’s Dark. He trusted in our power. In the blood that flowed through our veins. His and Mama’s blood. Enchanted.
I would not let him down.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
Zahra huffed out an unamused breath of air. I hit her with my Light. Nothing deadly. Nor debilitating. Just enough to let her know who she was laughing at and what the consequences would be if she tried that shit with me ever again.
It also served the purpose of waking the warrior in her up. She snarled and flashed fang, smokey ribbons twisting in her black eyes.
“That’s better, Witch,” I said.
Hakan squeezed my hand briefly; a reprimand or encouragement, I wasn’t sure. And then we were standing on the steep steps of Montmartre, the Sacré-Cœur looming above us, those quaint lantern-like lamp posts guiding the way. Stars twinkled overhead, fighting against the light pollution that is Paris. Even Paris post the Norm uprisings had electricity to spare. As if it were a matter of pride. The City of Light would never go Dark.
I sensed Nosferatin nearby. I sensed vampires. The Iunctio had long ago abandoned this place, but Nosferatu as a whole would never turn their backs on France.
Why here? Why so close to the Nosferatin house? Why would Alain risk discovery?
Was it a call for help?
I shook my head; disappointed in myself. I was transferring my hopes and wishes onto the Dark vampire. It was more likely he wanted to strike a blow against the vampire hunters. To punish them for what had transpired.
I needed to warn Yves.
But warning the leader of the local vampire hunter chapter came second only to finding my brother.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“This way,” Hakan said. “The Hundr and her Weaver have them contained. Ediz is standing guard; waiting for us.”
Relief coursed through me, but I squashed it with a ruthlessness I had long ago learned to possess. Anything could go wrong. And it probably would. Nosferatin were closing in on our position.
It wasn’t us drawing them closer, though; none of the vampires with me were Dark enough to catch their attention. Even Zahra who was black of heart and soul and eyes. Dread filled me; it nibbled away at little parts of me, slowly consumed me whole.
I picked up my pace and followed behind Hakan, sticking to the shadows as much as possible, keeping a hold on my Light. The Nosferatin would be called to that just as much as they were called to Alain’s and Luc’s Dark. I would not give them another reason to hunt tonight.
I sensed them long before the house they were holed up in came into view. Georgia might have been able to contain them, but she’d not been able to contain their Dark. It spilt out onto the cobbled streets of Montmartre like an oil slick. Thick and ugly. I could almost smell the harsh chemicals of a real oil slick; it felt so lifelike.
Ediz stepped out of the shadows beside the front door of the building they were in and appro
ached Hakan. They embraced; the Erbörü nodding his head to Zahra in recognition and greeting. And then we were stepping inside.
The light was low; the shutters were drawn, despite it being night. The stairs creaked as we climbed them. The house felt like it was swaying, but that could have been me; I was keyed up, my fingers shook, my breaths were panted.
I struggled to control my emotions, to show no fear as my mother had taught me. I struggled. But it was impossible when I was this close to Luc. My twin. My mirror. His Dark called to my Light.
My Light called to him as well.
We stepped into a shadowed room; lamps lit the space, chains rattled. Silver tainted the air. Luc snarled. He jerked up from where he’d been crouched and sprang toward me. Fangs glinted in the dull light.
Fangs, I thought numbly; standing still. Not even raising an arm to protect myself.
The chains pulled Luc up short, but had they not been there, he would have reached me.
Dear Nut, I thought. Help us.
“Luc,” I said, and then had to clear my throat. The sound of my voice, however, even rasping, made my brother snarl.
A hiss emerged from the opposite side of the room. I flicked a glance over to Alain. He was chained up too, but he also had the added bonus of a vampire sitting on his torso. Samson looked across the room to me, his eyes full of sorrow.
“Don’t say it,” I snarled. He said nothing. Everyone stayed quiet.
I walked toward my brother. My legs felt weak. My head felt a little too light. I walked forward anyway; nothing would keep me from Luc. My feet took me into striking distance; if he attacked now, his chain would let him reach me. Before I made his side, I crouched down. Eye to eye.
His eyes were darker. Not the hazel we used to share. His skin was pale. He wore dirt-smeared jeans and a grubby singlet that used to be white. His Sigillum blazed. Black. No colour. I searched out his Dark. There was no parasite. But he was consumed in Darkness; it ate him. It was devouring him.
He didn’t have much time.
“Zahra,” I said, keeping my eyes on my brother.
The Mhachkay witch stepped forward. She was still dressed in warrior garb. Luc tracked her. He sensed the predator in her, but rather than be cowed, he licked his lips and grinned.
It broke my heart.
Zahra growled back, fangs down, smoke swirling in her eyes.
“You ask much, Entwined of my cousin,” she said; her words for me, not my twin. I wasn’t even sure if Luc had understood them. He kept watching the witch with a glint in his eyes.
“He’s dying,” I said.
“He is already lost.”
I spun and placed a stake against her heart. “Don’t say that!”
She didn’t move. Didn’t retreat. Didn’t bat an eyelash.
“His Dark has consumed all Light,” she murmured. “He is lost, my Kafinefendi.”
Unbidden tears pricked my eyes. She was showing me respect. I didn’t deserve it. But she delivered the blow by couching it in titles. Kafinefendi meant Queen. I’d seen it in my ribbon vision; she thought Hakan was the true Mhachkay King. Not the Kral. She was letting me know she accepted me as her Queen, as well.
But I would not accept her assessment of my brother.
“He’s not lost. He’s still in there. He’s a good man,” I said. “Far better than me. Far better than any of us. His heart is big,” I cried, almost pleading. “His capacity for love is limitless. His Light used to shine brighter than mine. It’s still there. It has to be.”
Hakan approached from the side.
“Hayatim,” he said softly.
I stepped back, shaking my head. “No,” I said. “No. Don’t say it.” Don’t tell me you agree with her.
“Éliane,” he tried.
No. No, I wouldn’t believe it.
I spun back and fell to my knees in front of my brother.
“Fight it, Luc!” I shouted, slapping my hand down on the wooden floorboards. “Fight it, damn you!”
I sent out my Light. I bathed him in it. The Dark drank it down.
“Luc!” I cried. “Fight!”
He consumed my Light; his eyes blazed red. He threw back his head and snarled.
“Nosferatin approach, little one,” the Dark Shadow said from behind me.
I reached out for my brother.
He attacked.
Hakan roared. The Dark Shadow pounced. Sanguis Vitam and Mhachkay magic swirled all around us.
Claws scraped down my arm, over my Sigillum. Blood pooled and dripped onto the floorboards. Luc flashed fang at me and hissed. Alain joined him.
There was no intelligence there. There was no thought. No comprehension. Only instinct. Fight and survival and the Dark.
My brother, the son of the Champion, the firstborn of the Prophesied, had gone rogue.
My palm itched. That Nosferatin Pull I’d been ignoring in the back of my mind ramped up. The door downstairs banged back against the wall as it opened. Booted feet came running.
Ediz growled and then in a flash of light shifted. A slavering beast waited to greet my Light-filled brothers and sisters.
I stared around the room, searching for a miracle. For a way out. Light thrummed. Dark drank it. Three Nosferatin stormed into the room. I sprang up and placed my back to Lucien, a Light shield materialising and locking us in behind it.
I hadn’t thought to reach out and protect Alain, but from the corner of my eye, I realised Samson had disappeared. And so had Papa’s spymaster. Samson had changed reality. I knew they were there still because I’d seen them there seconds prior. But those Nosferatin who had entered the room did not.
Still, their eyes were drawn to that corner of the room, as if drawn there to Samson’s increasing Dark.
I panted for breath; sweat beaded my brow. Hakan and Goran stood outside of the Light shield. Somehow Zahra had been trapped inside. I hadn’t seen her approach. My attention had all been for my brother. But she’d come closer. Closer than I thought wise. Her smoke-filled eyes studied my brother. Mhachkay magic mixed with the black of her power wrapped around us.
“Éliane Durand,” a male voice said.
My gaze flicked to the owner of the voice and met the narrowed eyes of the leader of the Parisian Nosferatin.
“Yves,” I said. My upbringing had me bowing.
He did not return it.
His eyes tracked over my Light shield and then landed on my brother. A brief show of shock flashed across his features and then was gone.
“Lower your shield,” he said.
“No,” I replied.
“Nosferatin,” he growled. “Lower your shield.”
I held strong. Hakan stepped between Yves and my body, blocking the Nosferatin’s line of sight.
“Who are you, vampyre?” Yves asked.
“Bey Hakan Bahar of the Mhachkay.”
“The Mhachkay? The Mhachkay have awoken? Who freed you, murderer?”
My Light pulsed. Hakan’s Sanguis Vitam surged. Goran stepped forward and cocked his head like a bird, studying the leader of the vampire hunters.
“And a Dökkálfa Hyrða,” Yves murmured. The unsaid being that he and his hunters had walked into a political nightmare. “What interest does the Dark Fey King have here?”
“Éliane and Lucien Durand are under the protection of His Majesty, Aliath, King of Dökkálfa and the Fair Lands, Herra of the Grey Lords,” Goran said.
“And yet he sends only one Hyrða,” Yves countered.
“One Hyrða. Two swords.” Goran pulled his Fey swords from their scabbards and let them ignite. Flames licked over their blades, sizzling and crackling. Almost matching the electrical frisson in the air; the physical manifestation of our combined anticipation and distrust.
Yves looked back at my Light shield.
“You make this harder than it needs to be,” he said.
No one replied.
“This is not what I thought I would awake to this evening,” he added, his voice subdued and
full of sorrow. “But the Pull is never wrong. And even the Champion cannot argue against a Nosferatin Pull, child.”
“We just need time,” I said.
“Eliane,” Yves replied. “If there was time to give, do you not think I would give it? In honour of your mother?”
There wasn’t time. Luc was Dark. He had no Light.
I turned and looked down at my brother. He was crouched, but instead of snarling at me, his eyes were all for the Black Witch before him. He looked at Zahra as though she hung the stars. I sucked in a breath of air.
Because Zahra looked back down at him as if he held the answers to the universe.
“Witch?” I said softly. “Can you do this?”
“It is complex,” she murmured, her eyes all for Luc and his Dark. “It is intricate.”
“Zahra,” Hakan urged. “Can it be done?”
She slowly nodded her head. “I would have to entwine them both.”
“Both?” Yves queried. No one answered him.
“It will change them,” the Mhachkay witch said.
“They’ve already been changed beyond recognition,” I offered, desperate for her to say yes.
She spared me a glance. “My magic will change them beyond comprehension, Kafinefendi,” she said. “I cannot guarantee they will survive.”
I looked back over my shoulder at Yves. More Nosferatin were coming. I could feel them. Paris had once had dozens. I realised the Nosferatin leader had been recruiting again.
Had he foreseen this? Had his house?
I turned my attention back to Zahra and Lucien. They were staring at each other.
“I need the vampyre,” she said.
Samson reappeared in the corner of the room. Yves sucked in a shocked breath of air before he could hide his emotions. Before he could show no fear. The Dark Shadow slipped into the space between Yves’ Nosferatin and her mate.
Reaching down, Samson gripped something we couldn’t see and then dragged it toward my Light shield.
He met my eyes. I lowered the shield. He stepped over the threshold. The shield went up. It happened in a split fraction of a second. The Nosferatin hadn’t even been able to spin.
Blood Enthralled (Blood Enchanted, Book Three): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series Page 11
