by Lucy Lyons
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When I opened my eyes, we were on the ground and Nicholas was the only vampire in the cabin. The others had readied themselves for their sleep and retired to the streamlined caskets they’d spend the day in. In my mind I’d expected musty old cedar boxes, but the vampires had evolved with the times, and their coffins were lined with speakers and contained wifi capability and LED touch-screen tablets. Colette had proudly showed me her coffin when we boarded, taking me down the stairs at the rear of the jet to the hold below.
She’d invited me to spend the day with her, but even if her micromini skirt and mile-long legs had been a temptation, the idea of being the closest thing to her when she woke up hungry was enough to send me scuttling back up to the cabin, her delighted giggle following me back to the safety of the group.
“You were so still, I’d almost think you were a vampire,” Nicholas offered as he watched me rouse myself. “When I close my eyes, I’m blind to you.” He stood and adjusted his designer suitcoat. “You will ride with me to the home of my friend, Dominique. She is a great sorceress by her own right and the servant of the queen of the vampires.”
“Think I have a better chance of passing muster with her than with your Fae friends?” I sighed.
He nodded and clapped me on the shoulder as the pretty wererat opened the door of the jet for us. “The Fae are the longest lived of us, Orson. They aren’t burdened by your human sense of necessity.” I followed him down the stairs as the coffins were loaded onto another SUV with Steven and Marcos to guard them, while Goldie followed Nicholas and I to the lead Escalade.
Neither of us spoke for the hour or so that it took to get from Mississippi to the French Quarter where Dominique made her home. It was a massive townhome circa 1848, with more windows than I would’ve expected for the visitors the sorceress would usually greet.
We rode up a glass elevator up from the boutique wine shop to the lady Dominque’s foyer, where we were greeted by a werewolf with skin like burnished copper and a baby on her hip. I lowered my shielding enough to sense her, and I knew she’d survived an attack that turned her. But the baby girl with tight ringlets as jet black as my wolf’s coat was born a wolf.
“You’re the royal with soul-sickness?” she asked without preamble. “I will want to speak with you before you leave, no matter what Dominique determines during your time with her.”
I gaped at her for a moment and nodded dumbly. She dipped her head in a curt bow and turned to go, but the little girl squawked at her and reached out for me. Without a warning, she was in my arms, staring unblinking into my eyes just like little Rowena had done. But this baby was no enchantress, and while I felt the slumbering wolf within her, she didn’t control me, simply bonded as any royal wolf cub would with an alpha.
“She’s a bright one, this little wolf,” I chuckled, bouncing her in my arms. “I would enjoy a peaceful afternoon with her if the time and circumstances permitted, but I need to speak with your sorceress and get your vampire friends to ground as soon as possible.”
“Well, if Kaia likes you, that’s enough to get you in my door,” a sultry voice called from the open door I hadn’t noticed. Startled, I looked with more than just my eyes and saw the faint shimmer of magic over almost every inch of the foyer, hiding more than just doorways. A second elevator, one entirely blacked out from the sunlight, sat just beyond the stairs to the second floor. I would’ve missed it entirely, if I hadn’t finally sensed the magic of the place.
“I really don’t have time for more posturing and magic games, ma’am,” I explained, proud that I managed to keep my tone even. “I’ve got a young paraplegic man to rescue from a bloodthirsty alpha and my entire pack to save or relocate before the soul-sickness overcomes the magic barrier that your people so kindly gifted me.”
Behind me, Goldie made a rude noise at “gifted” and patted me on the butt before pushing past me to face the sorceress. “They almost killed him, and now he’s in even more danger, Dom.” She glanced over her shoulder at me and back at the statuesque Italian in the doorway. “Clay sends this message,” she continued and pulled out her phone, clearing her throat. “You’ve used us and our protection more times than I care to count.” She began then paused. I saw her head jerk up to gauge Dominique’s reaction before going on. “No protocol bullshit this time. Orson’s pack, our pack, and the future royals of our combined clans are on the line.”
She shoved the phone in her pocket and hunched her shoulders as though waiting for a blow from the sorceress, but Dominique just scoffed and shook her head. “Orson, I’m Dominique de Borgia, former Venatores hunter and mentor to Caroline, the mistress of Seattle. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
I was swept forward by magic until my hand were in hers, my toes barely touching the floor as some unseen force held me up and held me powerless to move of my own volition. She read my palms and then searched my face as though she could see the answers to her unasked questions in my eyes. I slammed the door to my mind and locked it, shivering as I felt her thoughts press against me and focused on the physical world around me to anchor me from the immense power focused on breaking the shields in my head.
The scent of magnolias caught my attention, from the urns that stood outside the sitting room, and the smell of Goldie’s shampoo as she stood by my side, glowering at the vampire queen’s emissary. The shimmering magical energy that seemed to rise off the foyer and Dominique like heat waves dissipated.
“Well, I suppose Clay’s not going to let me hear the end of it if I don’t help you, wolf. At the very least, we need to get your people inside before the sun comes up, Nicholas, I don’t want my mistress to put my head on a platter.”
“I’ve heard murmurs of my queen’s unhappiness, I will do my best not to add to it,” the master vampire assured her softly, and Dom smiled brightly.
“Of course you will, Nick. Ever the gentleman, huh? Please, all of you, do come in. Now that you’ve stripped away all my magical work improving it, you’ll have to tell me what you think,” she tutted, motioning us through the door to the sitting room, which was as white and clean as foyer. The serious woman who had almost broken through my hard-won mental shields transformed into a proper southern belle as she showed off the art deco pieces that provided bright splashes of color in the otherwise monochromatic décor. All in all, it was a big, beautiful house, that looked more like some designer’s idea of wealth, than the personality of the powerful woman who lived there.
She led us down stairs at the back of the townhome where there were less windows and more shades drawn for protection. When we reached a second subbasement, I realized why the house looked so sterile. The open space of the den below ground was full of kitschy figurines, and framed photographs from the beginning of flash photography.
The chairs around the antique kitchen table were leather bound and comfortable, and the coffee she served us had real cream, real sugar, and real beignets with it. Nicholas left with the lady wolf and saw to his vampires, sending Steven and Marcos to us for some breakfast as Goldie filled Dominique in on the details she’d missed of the wolves who had attacked me in the woods, my magical self-shackling, and the possibility that my pack was being led by a mad-wolf in the throes of soul-sickness, while the least honorable of us went against our code and made wolves from the dregs of Baton Rouge society.
Nicholas returned as the last beignet disappeared into Marcos’s gaping maw, and Steven wiped the powdered sugar from his chin. “Orson, go to ground with the vampires, or spend the day with Dominique, whatever suits you best. But do not leave this house.”
With that warning, he joined the vampires in the guest room wing of the den, and Clay’s soldiers took off together to do their daytime reconnaissance of the Baton Rouge royal wolfpack. I waited for Goldie to go with them, or take off with Dominique, but we ended up sitting silent across from each other, me staring at my crumby plate, fiddling with my coffee cup as I waited for her to grow tired of me and leave.
“Had no plans, Cherie,” I lied easily, checking my mental shields against her prying.
“Your ears turn red when you lie, did you know?” she asked in a saccharine voice. “I know the inside of you, Orson King. I don’t need a memo to tell me you’re going to the swamp to see if the other shifters will tell you anything, and I’m going with you.”
“I can’t protect you if you don’t stay inside this house, Goldie. You’re my mate, and that makes you a target.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’ll be making sure I don’t die, then, isn’t it? Because no one on earth has more reason to keep me alive than you do.”
“I set the coffee mug down and held out a hand to her as I stood. “I’d be lying if I said I wanted to do this alone, mate of my soul.” She took the offered hand and I pulled her to her feet.
“Now then, let’s go save your brother, Orson. That’s all we need to worry about right now. Not you and me, not the vampires. Just focus all that power, all that magical energy of yours on finding Porter. The rest will follow, I promise.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dominique showed us to the room she expected us to share as a mated couple, and I offered to take a walk while Goldie showered and changed. “I guess your friends didn’t get the whole story, but I’ll give you privacy and then take mine.”
“Or you could lie down, Orson. I know we don’t need much sleep, but we need you at your best tonight. I’ll wake you when I’m done.”
“OK, Cher, whatever you say.” I didn’t tell her that I was damned sure not going to sleep while I could hear her under the shower and imagine her naked body so close, yet untouchable. The bed was a California king spread with soft down and cool pillows, and despite my active imagination and the sound of my mate singing in the shower a few feet away like we were a normal couple, I slipped into a dream within minutes of lying down.
I was getting used to visions in my dreams, but Goldie had been the center of them, and since meeting her, I hadn’t dreamed at all. So when I started down a familiar path to the cave where our mambo did her big spells, I thought nothing of it.
Inside the cave, I came upon Miriam and Thaddeus together, praying and gyrating over a human girl. Even in my dream I could tell she wasn’t a supernatural being, just a poor, swamp rat with tangled hair wearing a dirty shift. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen, and seeing her semi-conscious and mumbling as she lay tied to the stone altar we used for our animal sacrifice turned my blood to ice in my veins.
It’s just a dream, wake yourself up, I commanded, but my eyes wouldn’t leave the young girl as she twitched on the altar with her wrists bound together above her head as Thaddeus stalked her, his hands turned to claws. My mouth opened to shout, but a hand was placed across it to stop me. I heeded the warning but couldn’t stifle the cry that ripped from my throat when my alpha tore into his captive’s throat, drinking the blood that pumped from her shredded artery as crimson bubbles gurgled out of her mouth instead of screams.
Don’t move, or he’ll see us, a familiar voice whispered in my head. Where are you, and when will you come for me? It continued, and I felt tears burn my eyes at the desperation I sensed from him.
They told me you were dead, but I came anyways. I’m coming for you now, if you let me wake up. Miriam peered up through her hair, searching the cavern for whatever was disturbing her magic, and I slammed the door on my head again to keep her from finding us.
Instead, my vision continued while I pressed my back to the stone wall behind me, not daring to look away, even to see my brother. The priestess added herbs to the blood that poured over the edge of the altar into her wooden bowl, the same way Caroline and Henny had added herbs to the blood we’d spilt in their Washington cabin. Miriam and Thaddeus both painted themselves in the blood of their victim as she chanted in a language older than her Haitian Creole heritage and energy built between them.
The spell was so similar to the one used to tame my sickness and give me control that it made me shudder at the oppressive, heavy feeling of the black magic in the cave. Miriam made a high, keening sound in the back of her throat and the magic crashed all around me, prickling at my skin with a thousand bee stings as I pushed myself against the rocks at my back, scraping my skin on the stone.
Thaddeus pulled Miriam up onto the altar, kneeling as he straddled the dead girl and she rode him as they crested the wave of black magic and I stared, horrified but unable to move even to turn my head and look away. Blood that hadn’t been spilt in my dream ran down the walls, and coated my body as I felt a scream build up in my throat, watching their past sacrifices pour down from the walls and ceiling of the cave in a scarlet flood of black magic.
Wake up, Or, Wake UP! Porter’s voice in my head yelled louder than the wolf, louder than the hum of death magic in my ears.
I jerked awake to Goldie kneeling next to me on the bed, shaking me. “Orson, what’s going on, please wake up,” she whimpered, and I sat up with a groan.
“I’m OK, Goldie, I’m awake.”
“What was that? I’ve never felt anything so . . . so terrible and evil.” She sniffed and backed away from me, hugging her knees to her chest, comforting herself. “Orson, everything I’ve been through, I was certain I knew true evil, but . . .” her voice broke and I reached for her, only to have her flinch and retreat to the far side of the bed.
“It was just a dream, Goldie. Wolves don’t have visions about anything usually. Our shared dreams were special, unique to the soulmate bond.” I sighed and rubbed my face. “I almost wish it wasn’t, though.”
“How can you say that, Orson?”
“Porter was in my dream. He protected me, spoke to me.” I felt tears behind my eyelids and blinked them away. “If it was real, it would mean he’s alive.”
“That wasn’t just a dream, Orson, and you know it. You had a vision of Thaddeus, maybe because in his own way, Porter is connected to your soul on that level, maybe because you’re a seer.” I tried to argue but she talked over me as she continued. “I’ve seen a range of magical talents in my own clan that would take too long to number, boy. You’re a seer. The trick is knowing what to do about it.”
“It’s not even noon. Who would perform a human sacrifice in the middle of the day?”
“OK, so it’s not happening right now. That doesn’t mean you weren’t being shown what Thaddeus has been up to, or that Porter wasn’t really there with you.” She bent me forward and gasped. “Orson, your back is all torn up. What happened to you in that cave?”
“You saw the cave? Saw what I was forced to watch?”
She ducked her head and hid behind her veil of hair. “I shielded myself when I couldn’t’ watch anymore, but I could feel your pain, your horror and . . . and terror. I’m sorry I was a coward.”
“I couldn’t look away, Goldie. I would’ve if I could. You’re no coward.”
“But you are a seer. Maybe you always were, maybe our bond or Caroline’s magic torture woke it up in you. But now you have to do something. There’s no waiting until dark if a human life is on the line for dark magic, O.”
“I’ll go, you tell Steven and Marcos when they wake up, and if I’m not back by sundown, y’all need to take down the entire pack.” My throat closed off and the tears I’d managed to fight back spilled over my lids to burn tracks down my cheeks. “Don’t even engage them, just let the vampires fly over and empty their guns. Then set fire to the bodies and salt the earth.” I paused, rolling my shoulders to loosen my muscles as the deep scrapes on my back healed. “Do something for me, Petit Cher?”
“OK, what?”
“Pray that you’re wrong, and all I saw was the product of my fear and a magical hangover messing with my head?” A sob escaped me and before I could hide my face, her cheek was presse
d to mine as she climbed naked into my lap and wrapped her arms and legs around me, holding me as my body shook.
I took a quick shower to wash the blood off my back and tried to wash away the vestiges of the dream-vision at the same time. But the dread stayed with me, reminding me that it truly had been no ordinary nightmare, an unrelenting pull on my mind demanding I got to the ritual cave.
Goldie was gone when I emerged, healed, clean, and dressed from the bathroom. I retraced my steps from the actual living quarters of my host up to the designer façade, where I was blocked from leaving by Goldie, Dominique, and a tall, black werewolf.
“You can’t go alone, Orson,” Goldie began as I tried to pass them for the elevator. The new wolf placed his hand on my chest and frowned down into my face.
“We’re forbidden to let you pass, alpha.” I sighed and backed up instead of challenging him. The weight of the dream was worsening, making it difficult to see past the shadow images that were moving behind my eyelids.
“I’ve gotta go, wolf. I got no quarrel with you and I don’t have time for arguin.’” The vision was an overwhelming presence in my mind, but I didn’t understand what magic to use to make it go away, or if it was even a possibility.
“Is this the soul sickness I see in you?” he asked and unable to voice my thoughts over the shouting of the prophecy I shook my head, but the effort left me nauseated and weak. “I can’t let you leave like this, alpha. I have a queen to answer to and she doesn’t take disobedience lightly.”
