Prophecy: Dark Moon Rising [A Vampires Realm Novel]

by F. E. Heaton

  She vaulted over the banisters, landing soundly on the floor of the main entrance hall. Valentine moved at the same time as her, his hand gripping hers tightly as they bolted back out into the street. She could feel the dogs closing in. There had to be at least two dozen of them. Far too many to fight without getting hurt.

  "Maybe it's time to shut the door on this place permanently.” She glanced across at Valentine.

  "I agree,” he said and tightened his grip on her hand.

  She called the magic and looked over her shoulder for a split second, enough for her to make out whereabouts the dogs were. She could see their white eyes shining in the dim light, could smell them and sense them close by. Casting a glowing ball of magic over her shoulder, she listened to the pained yelps of those she'd hit and then focused on getting to the portal.

  The stars on her body began to hum, burning with pain and magic while she called it to her hand. She would need a lot of energy to counteract the portal that Elena had created to her own little world, possibly more than she had.

  The portal shimmered into life in front of them, its silvery blue swirling reminding her painfully of when Valentine had been taken from her. She held onto his hand even tighter, not caring if she was hurting him. She had to feel he was there, had to know in her heart that he was safe, so when she landed on the other side she could immediately unleash her magic on the portal.

  She leapt into it and turned the second she was through. Raising her hand, she let go of Valentine's and brought her other hand up to steady her wrist as she released the magic. She growled and gritted her teeth, steeling herself against the pain that tore through her as the two spells collided. She could feel how close she was to destroying the portal but it wasn't close enough. She redoubled her effort, splaying her fingers and on the verge of screaming when the magic began to drain the last of her energy. She had to hold on. She only needed a little more strength.

  Her other hand dropped to her side and she furrowed her brows, fighting against the power of the portal as it resisted succumbing to her magic. Even without Elena inside, it was still too powerful for her to destroy.

  She needed a little more strength. She could feel the dogs pushing at the other side, trying to get through and get to them.

  She tensed when Valentine's hand slid in hers and she looked at him with bleary eyes and a heavy head. She blinked to keep herself awake and pushed herself past the limit, drawing strength from the way he was tightly holding her hand, supporting her in the only way he could.

  The portal flickered and twisted, the colour of it changing from a light blue through to black. It glowed red around the edges and then began to shrink, shooting threads of red magic in all directions.

  When it disappeared with a pop, she collapsed against Valentine. His strong arms encircled her, holding her tight while sleep beckoned her. She didn't resist. Closing her eyes, she slipped into the comforting darkness.

  Chapter 2

  Valentine looked down at the girl in his arms while he walked across the dark runway. In the dim light from the hangar he was heading towards, he could see how pale she was. Her lips were almost as white as her cheeks, drained of colour just like she'd been drained of energy. The magic had taken everything from her, every ounce of strength and even some of his. When he'd held her hand, he'd felt the pain inside of her. He'd felt the intense pull on her energy and how she was beginning to falter. The magic had bound their hands. He'd watched threads of it weave around their fingers and then melt into his flesh, stealing energy from him to feed itself and help Prophecy close the portal for good.

  The pain he'd felt was just a fraction of what she'd experienced, and he hadn't been surprised when she'd passed out. Destroying his family's mansion in St. Petersburg must have been child's play compared to obliterating the portal and Elena's little world.

  He gently adjusted her in his arms so her head was resting against his chest and then walked into the brightly lit hangar. He headed straight towards the Cessna jet that was awaiting him and mounted the steps.

  "Tell Christophe to get off the ground as soon as possible. I want to be back in Prague before daybreak,” he said to the stewardess when she hurried towards him.

  "Yes, my lord.” The stewardess nodded and gave the briefest of glances at Prophecy before walking off up the length of the cabin.

  He was surprised that one of his bloodline was taking the presence of her so well. The others back at the mansion had done nothing but glare at Prophecy, much like her family glared at him whenever he entered their house.

  It was hard enough getting his house to obey him, getting the two houses to work together was going to be nigh on impossible. It had to be done though. If they were going to win the war that he could feel on the horizon then they had to work together. He wondered how the two families would react to having to work with the Tenebrae too. When he'd last spoken to Mia, she had told him that the Venia had sided with Elena against them. The Nocens had not forgiven Prophecy for what she had done to their family in Budapest and the Vehemens were also in league with Elena. The only family yet to choose a side were the Validus. He couldn't see Hyperion lifting a finger to help Prophecy or Elena, not when he was so concerned with the fate of Ineru.

  He settled Prophecy down onto one of the padded seats, making sure that she was comfortable before buckling her in. He was thankful that his new position within his family afforded them a better means of transport. Flying by private jet was far less dangerous and far quicker than travelling by train.

  The engines of the Cessna whined into life. He sat in the seat opposite Prophecy and fastened his seatbelt, his eyes never leaving her, not even when the stewardess returned.

  "Christophe has a window. We should be back in Prague before sunrise. It will be close, but I am told the winds are with us."

  He nodded his thanks and rested his right elbow on the arm of his chair. He propped up his chin on his thumb, curled his fingers around and pressed his index finger against his lip. She looked so pale.

  "Is there anything I can get for you, my lord?” the stewardess said. “A cloth? Or some blood perhaps?"

  He considered her offer for a moment and then shook his head.

  "Does she require anything?"

  He was surprised to hear the question and looked up at the stewardess. He held her gaze, trying to see if she had asked that question out of anything other than obligation to him as her lord. She smiled, her eyes filling with nerves over his studying her.

  "No,” he said and held his hand up when she went to leave. “But thank you ... for asking."

  She smiled again and gave him a little nod before disappearing into the back of the jet.

  It was strange to have an Aurorea other than himself concerned with Prophecy. Mathias had always cared for her, but then he hadn't been close to their family, not like this stewardess was. It was hard to tell whether her concern was genuine or whether she was only asking because of who he was. Maybe it was who Prophecy was. She was the lady of Caelestis after all. The seven pure bloodlines had always been courteous to the lords and ladies of the others. Maybe he needed to remind his family of this fact when he got back. Prophecy could probably subtly remind hers too. He was getting tired of the whispered comments and dark looks.

  He relaxed back into his seat when he felt the jet taxiing for take off. In a few short hours, he would have her back safely at her home.

  The engines roared and he closed his eyes, focusing his senses on the plane and almost feeling the rush of the wind against the nose of the jet when it charged the runway. He felt the lift and the split second of weightlessness as the plane took off, leaving Venice far below them as it climbed high into the atmosphere. When it levelled off, he opened his eyes and looked at Prophecy.

  The seatbelt light switched off and he immediately unbuckled his safety belt.

  Kneeling beside Prophecy, he unlatched her belt and looked at her. She hadn't stirred since passing out after destroying the portal and
it was starting to shake him up. His stomach twisted with worry, tying itself in knots and making him feel sick. He brushed the dark hair from her face, revealing just how pale she was when the lights above illuminated it.

  Fear and a sense of desperation filled him. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her.

  "Prophecy? Prophecy!” He frowned when her head lolled forwards from the force of him shaking her.

  Carefully sitting her back up again, he cupped her cheek, his look becoming one of anxiousness. He smoothed her hair back into place again and tried to think of a way to rouse her. When an idea came to him, he turned her sideways in her seat, resting her shoulders and head against his right arm. He held her gently, cradling her to him and not taking his eyes away from her face while his fangs descended.

  He flinched when he stabbed the tip of his left index finger with one of his canines and then squeezed it between his thumb and middle finger until a droplet of blood broke to the surface.

  This had to work.

  Bringing it to her face, he wafted it close to her lips. Her nose wrinkled when she sniffed and between her open lips, he could see her teeth extending.

  "At least your instincts are still with us,” he whispered and lowered his finger so it was hovering just above her open mouth.

  He squeezed it hard until the drop grew too heavy and slipped from his finger. It ran over her lower lip and touched her tongue. She swallowed. Relief coursed through him when she licked her lips and a tiny frown flickered on her brow. Her mouth opened again and he squeezed another drop onto her tongue.

  Her eyes fluttered open for the briefest of moments, revealing glassy green eyes to him. She rolled them when she looked at him, as though she was having difficulty making him out and then they stopped dead, focused on his neck.

  She sniffed.

  He swallowed and braced himself, knowing what she was going to do and willing her to do it. He wanted to feel it, wanted to bring her back to life even if it meant weakening himself in the process.

  Her fingers twitched and he took hold of her hand, raising it for her when he realised that she didn't have the energy to even do that. He brought his throat down to her mouth and closed his eyes when her lips touched it. They were soft, gently exploring his flesh. Her tongue swept over the marks she'd placed on him, some of them now faded and gone, others still prominent.

  He inhaled sharply when her teeth punctured his skin, sinking deep into him in a bite that told him how weak and desperate she was. He gathered her to him, making it easier on her to feed.

  When she gave a stronger pull on his blood, elation swept through him. His fingers curled tightly around her shoulder, holding her against him while she drank. Her actions stirred the fire inside of him that only she ever made, turning him desperate with need and desire, hungry with passion.

  He felt her growing stronger. Her bite deepened and her fingers brushed against his neck, making a shiver run down his spine. He breathed out heavily, his brows furrowing and his sharp canines teasing his lip while he struggled for control over his body and his desires.

  The feeling of being so close to her, so intimately connected, was divine. It told him everything he needed to know about her, reaffirming her affections for him and her need. He sighed and held her head against his neck, relishing how she was making him feel. In almost three centuries of life, he had never had someone need him as much as she did. He had never been with someone who wanted to share his blood and be this close to him. In return, he'd never felt the need to be with someone as intensely as he did with her. Being apart from her was like losing a part of himself. He'd become so dependent on her. He'd hated her dependence on him when they'd first met, the way she'd clung to him, but now he recognised it as a sign of her affection for him, and he realised that on some level he'd acted the same way throughout their journey together. He needed her.

  He pulled back when she finished licking his neck and looked at her and the way he was clinging to her, so desperate to bring her back to him because he couldn't live without her.

  Wiping the blood off her lips, he licked his finger clean and went to sit back in his seat. She whimpered, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck and stopping him from moving. Looking down at her face, it hit him hard how young she really was—too young to have this kind of pressure on her. She was too inexperienced. She'd barely seen anything of the world, had barely lived. She'd passed so many years trapped inside the mansion, kept away from the world and forced to experience life via her television and books, via the stories her family told and the tales they brought back with them from their travels. When she'd finally broken free of her cage, she'd plummeted head first into a dangerous world, one where she was hunted and persecuted, made to run in order to preserve her life, chased by those that had once been her friends. What kind of life was that? Now she faced an enemy so powerful that her chance of success was slim, and a future so uncertain that only her belief in herself and the choice she had made kept her going.

  He wrapped his arms about her, lifting her off the seat and carrying her with him to the curved couch on the opposite side of the cabin. He sat down with her, her backside resting on his thighs while he cradled her in his arms. His eyes scanned her face. It was peaceful with slumber but she twitched occasionally, her brows knitting and her nose wrinkling up. He wondered what she was dreaming about and whether it was another vision. If it was, he hoped it wasn't about battles and people she loved dying. He'd seen how shaken she was whenever she dreamed of his near-death. He wished he could take that vision away, freeing her of the anxiety it made her feel.

  He couldn't imagine how frightened she had been when she'd had her first vision. Her blood mother had probably told her it was just a dream, but Prophecy would have known in her heart that it was more than that. A vision felt more real than a dream and left you with an intense feeling that you'd actually been there, present in whatever had happened.

  His fingers swept the hair from her face so he could see it better. She fluttered her eyes open, their dark depths searching his for a moment and filled with a sleepy haze.

  "Get some rest. I will watch over you,” he whispered down at her. “I will always watch over you."

  The corners of her lips tugged into a small smile and she sighed when she leaned into him, resting her head against his upper arm and falling asleep again.

  Locking his arms around her, he watched her sleeping, his eyes never leaving her face.

  His thoughts turned to Elena and Venice. He wished he knew what lay ahead of them and where Elena had gone. A witch as powerful as her was unpredictable. It would lessen his worry about the impending battle if they at least knew her location. He would have to contact Mia and Dmitri and ask them to keep an eye open and their ears to the ground. Venturi could contact his kin in Romania.

  Wherever Elena had gone, she hadn't moved long before they'd arrived in Venice. The magic had only just started to deteriorate so she couldn't have been gone for longer than a day or two. He sighed. A day or two of travel could have taken her anywhere in the world. She didn't have to rely on conventional methods of transport. Her magic could easily transport her a thousand miles in a snap of her fingers.

  He hoped that his instincts were right when they said that she wouldn't have gone far. She would have hidden herself well though, well enough that finding her would be impossible.

  Prophecy shifted and mumbled something. He pushed his thoughts away, listening to her in case she spoke again. She didn't. She curled up on his lap and pressed her cheek into his chest, sighing heavily.

  His gaze dropped to the amulet that was securely fastened around her hand.

  Elena's magic was potent, powerful enough to keep her alive after all this time and command the dead. Was Prophecy a match for that? He'd witnessed her destroy an entire building and obliterate the spell that had created Elena's home for the past few centuries. She'd called tempests and had healed him after Kalinor had exacted his lust for torture on his tir
ed body. Would she have the power to defeat Elena?

  He remembered her mother's book. He'd seen her with it a few times and could picture it where it was laying on the desk in her room. She'd had no success in opening it yet and he wondered if she ever would. How was she supposed to find the key to it? They didn't have time for another wild goose chase. Finding the two halves of the prophecy had been difficult enough.

  "My lord?” the stewardess said and he tore his eyes away from Prophecy to look at her. “We shall be landing in Prague shortly."

  "Have the car ready. I want to be taken directly to the Caelestis mansion."

  He watched her walk away and then returned his attention to Prophecy. She would need the safety of her family when she was so weak. With rest and more blood, she would be back to full strength in a day. He just hoped that Elena's plans, whatever they entailed, didn't start before then.

  * * * *

  Venturi got to his feet the moment he caught sight of Valentine carrying Prophecy through the wide lounge of the Caelestis mansion. He went to move but then stopped, reminding himself that he'd vowed not to chase after her. Valentine passed him, his green eyes narrowing into a dark look when their gazes met. Venturi swallowed. His every instinct told him to go to her, to see what was wrong. He clenched his fists, struggling for control over his emotions but they easily won and his heart overruled his mind.

  In a few strides, he was beside Valentine, his eyes immediately fixing on Prophecy where she lay in the Aurorea's arms. She looked pale, her skin washed of colour. Her eyes were closed and the way her hands were resting limp in her lap made her look unconscious rather than sleeping. She was leaning against Valentine's chest in a way that made her appear as though she was hiding in his embrace.

  "What the Devil happened to her?” Venturi said, his tone sharp and demanding.

  Valentine glared at him.

  Venturi stepped to the side, placing some distance between himself and the Aurorea when he saw the darkness in his eyes. It wasn't wise to anger Valentine, not when Prophecy wasn't around to defend himself. He'd done that back in England. He'd underestimated how strong the young vampire was and how badly his love for Prophecy affected his judgement. Valentine would happily kill him. The only thing stopping him was Prophecy.