King Cave

by Scarlett Dawn

  “No, no.” Elder Harcourt waved a quick hand. “Clarice didn’t harm her.” He blinked, and a funny smile painted his lips before he turned back to the image, oblivious to how Cahal had to slam a hand down on Ezra’s shoulder to keep him seated. “Play the rest, Antonio. There has to be more.”

  “I cannot believe you sent her to Clarice,” Antonio muttered, rubbing his forehead before flicking a finger. “I’m thinking Ezra’s got the right of it, and you should be dead.”

  Elder Harcourt only shrugged his shoulders.

  Ezra stilled as the image came to life again, quickly holding me close and resting his head on mine. He saw me chug the vial, barely keeping the liquid down, then murmur the words. He stiffened as Antonio cursed. Watching my hand glow and hold him down, the image actually getting blurry as my vision dimmed, his breathing faltered just as heavily as mine.

  “Let go,” Antonio whispered to the image. “Break it, Lil.”

  But I didn’t break it. I hadn’t wanted to. They watched as I continued to give more of myself, giving everything I could to Ezra. The image only cut off when Bindi hit me with the candlestick, her infuriated face the last the image showed.

  Silence descended on the room.

  Antonio’s chest rose, fell heavily. He glanced at me once before he started pacing the room’s littered floor. “Ezra, search her. See if she has the knocker on her.”

  Ezra’s palm moved from my chest, and instantly, I once more felt the rattle of death inside me. Oddly, it didn’t hurt. It was just a bizarre sensation, knowing what it was. I had knocked on death’s door, and death was knocking back. Kind of fitting for how this all started.

  “You can’t be serious,” Cahal stated, even as Ezra laid me on the bed and began searching me.

  Antonio shot him a special look. “And if it was Ezra in this situation?”

  Cahal’s lips thinned, his eyes finding his son. He didn’t speak again.

  “Don’t,” I wheezed, “have it.”

  Ezra stilled over my boots. “What?”

  “She,” I sucked air, “took it.”

  He braced his hands on either side of my legs, his glowing green gaze slamming to Antonio. “What now?” He paused. “Can’t I give some of,” his fist rubbed against the middle of his bare muscular chest, “this back?” I wheezed, and he blurred, rapidly lying beside me, his hand back on the center of my chest and giving me peace.

  Antonio’s jaw clenched, and he glanced at Elder Harcourt. “I don’t know a spell against death.”

  Elder Harcourt blinked. “That’s why I gave her the knocker.”

  Antonio’s nostrils flared. “Being obtuse isn’t an attractive trait. She’s on fucking death’s bed. Tell me what the hell to do!”

  “Why, Antonio, you do the only thing you can,” Elder Harcourt said softly.

  Antonio sighed in aggravated frustration and began pacing again.

  Silently, Elder Harcourt stared after him, rubbing his chin.

  “You know how to fix this,” Ezra rumbled, staring hard at the older Mage. “You already said that you know her path. Just tell him what to do.”

  Antonio shook his head. “He obviously can’t.” He rolled his hands in front of him, his feet still eating up the floor as he appeared like he was having an internal debate, even though he said nothing more verbally.

  “It alters time if he wasn’t supposed to give the advice in the first place,” Cahal said offhandedly when Ezra began growling quietly, his son’s attention stuck on the older Mage.

  “She needs life,” Antonio muttered to himself.

  Elder Harcourt hummed in his throat, the sound neither good nor bad.

  I turned my eyes completely from them as they began debating, and stared up at Ezra. He must have felt it because he looked down at me. He blinked and his eyes stopped glowing, just staring at me with his striking gaze and searching mine as he whispered, “You shouldn’t have done this.”

  My lips tilted. Oh yes, I should have. “What would,” a sharp inhale, “you have done?”

  His own lips tilted, his chest hitching. “Nothing different.”

  “See,” I breathed, as everyone began arguing around us, then mouthed, “I love you, husband.”

  “I love you, too, wife,” he mouthed, his lips thinning and his nostrils flaring as he swept his free hand over my forehead into my hair. His eyes instantly glistened, gleaming even brighter. Unshed tears. He cleared his throat, glancing away, up to his petting hand and his fingers threading through my hair.

  My heart swelled for him. I wanted to comfort but was unable to move. “Ezra.”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “You’re not going to die.” His chin trembled for the barest moment before he clenched it hard with an clicking noise. His nostrils flared again, harshly inhaling. His eyes met mine and I saw resolve there, a hardness that was all inner strength, all Ezra. “You’re not.” Green eyes slated to Antonio, who was arguing with Elder Merrick. “Blood, Elder Farrar. Blood is life.”

  Everyone went silent enough to hear Elder Harcourt as he hummed, and this time, it was a hum of approval.

  “I know this,” Antonio stated, eyebrows puckering as he glanced at Elder Harcourt. He stared at the Elder, deep in thought. He blinked. A pause. Another blink. “But her Core is almost empty.”

  Elder Jacobs snorted. “Everyone knows that a parent can give their blood and a portion of their Core power to their child, healing their child’s body against anything mystical.” He paused. “I actually knew a parent that did it. It was rough going for a while for the parent and child, but they gained everything back.”

  Elder Harcourt held Antonio’s gaze.

  Bindi shook her head. “I remember her medical file saying her mother has passed on.”

  “What about her father?” Elder Merrick asked. “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes,” Elder Harcourt said softly. “He can handle the Core loss since he’s the most powerful of his four.”

  Antonio stiffened.

  Ezra stiffened.

  Hell, even I stiffened, which hurt like a son of a bitch.

  He knew who my biological dad was?

  Cahal glanced at the three of us, his eyes piercing. “The most powerful of his four?” His voice could cut like a deadly blade, it was so sharp. “He’s an Elder?”

  I was pretty sure the three of us didn’t breathe at all.

  Elder Jacobs’s eyes danced between us. “I’m not sure what I’m missing here, but the important thing would be to find him. If he’s an Elder, he may already be here at King Cave, right?”

  Elder Harcourt’s shaggy, golden eyebrows rose at Antonio’s regard, and he harmlessly placed his hands in his pockets.

  After he had dropped that bomb on us.

  Cahal asked crisply, “Antonio, what the fuck is going on? Your heart rate, and my son’s, are both going crazy, not to mention that Lily’s actually sped up.” He paused. “And now it’s faltering again.”

  My breathing hitched, my eyes fluttering. He was right. Elder Harcourt’s pronouncement hadn’t helped my predicament any.

  Antonio licked his lips, his golden gaze turning to me, and he whispered, “It’s the only way.”

  “No,” Ezra demanded. “There has to be another option.”

  Antonio blinked. “There’s not.” He disappeared.

  Ezra’s breath caught, his heart rate galloping into a wild frenzy. “He wouldn’t.”

  I stared where Antonio used to stand and breathed, “He did.”

  Ezra’s gaze darted around the room, and I felt his power surge to epic levels, his eyes glowing bright. Command full force in his tone, he shouted, “Get the fuck out. Now!”

  No one moved.

  Ezra sucked in a harsh breath, eyebrows slamming together, and again his power surged, and he ordered, “Get the fuck out!”

  No one moved.

  Cahal’s own eyebrows were pinched together, but he stated evenly, “This suite is spelled for only my command.”

  Ezra f
roze, breath hitching, his eyes on his dad. “Order them to leave.”

  Cahal’s gaze was searching, confusion clear on his normally stoic face.

  “You’d better not try any Vampire shit on me,” Elder Merrick growled quietly.

  It was too late.

  Antonio had reappeared with his hand firmly planted on Elder Venclaire’s shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The silence was damning, my future clearly in a noose.

  Not a soul moved until Ezra blurred so fast that all I felt was the brush of wind against my side…then his fist was hammering into the side of Antonio’s face. He actually…floated. He followed the trajectory of Antonio’s body, catching him by the throat to hold him flush against the wall, his whole body quivering as he hissed in Antonio’s bloody face, “You bring him here to save her, only to give her a death sentence.”

  Antonio didn’t fight back, merely stared him in the eyes as Ezra squeezed the living shit out of his throat, killing him, strangling him as he said he would.

  Gulping air, I whispered, “Ezra.” If he murdered him he would have a death sentence, too. “No!” Not to mention, I didn’t want Antonio dead for saving my ass the only way he knew how.

  Cahal recovered the fastest from Elder Venclaire’s — Daddy’s — arrival and Ezra’s attack on Antonio. He blurred to Ezra’s side, and I felt his power surge as Ezra’s had done moments ago. “Let him go.”

  Ezra grunted, and it looked like he gripped Antonio’s throat harder, fighting his dad’s command.

  Elder Venclaire was instantly on the other side of them. “Ezra, no harm will come to her. I swear this to you.” He put no command behind his words, even as Cahal grabbed Ezra’s wrist, trying to break his son’s hold physically.

  Ezra’s head turned to him. “You know she’s your daughter? You’ll help her?”

  Elder Venclaire glanced at me, his gaze worried. “I’ll help her.” Soft words. “And I’ve known she’s my daughter since I knew who her mother was.” A small smile lifted his lips, even as my breath hitched. “She may look much like Angela, but she looks plenty like me, too.” He placed a gentle hand on top of Cahal’s gripping one. “Ezra, let Elder Farrar go. I’ll hide her as I’ve planned to do, if needed, but it will be harder to hide both of you.”

  “Release him!” Cahal shouted, shoving his face and command directly in Ezra’s face. “Now, goddamn it!”

  Ezra blinked at his dad, and his floating stopped, his feet firmly planting on the floor. The movement not at all forced, he took his hand away from Antonio’s throat and stepped back, picking up my gun that had been tossed around the room in the whirlwind of the earlier spell, even as Cahal caught Antonio, who had begun to fall, coughing hard. Ezra didn’t seem to notice, though, throwing the safety off the gun and aiming it at Elder Jacobs and Elder Merrick as he moved toward the bed, Bindi having — smartly — hid behind them.

  Intelligently, they stayed silent, even though their eyes were as wide as saucers, their gazes darting between the recovering Antonio, Elder Venclaire, and the gun aimed at them.

  “Ezra,” I wheezed as he lifted the sheet to his knees with his free hand to climb onto the bed. “No killing.”

  “Fuck that,” he muttered, eyes never leaving Elder Merrick and Elder Jacobs, even as his lips twitched, and he echoed my earlier comment, “What would you do?”

  I blinked, a small smile lifting my lips. “Nothing different.” And it was the truth.

  “Damn straight,” he rumbled, crawling behind me to place his back against the headboard. He used his free arm to pull me between his legs, settling my own back against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. His arm circled my waist, holding me close as he rested his shooting arm over my shoulder, gun aimed directly on the two mute Elders and one silent physician.

  Next to us on a pillow, Clyde was resting much the same, lying around Bonnie’s slight, quiet form and watching the proceedings, but his claws were out like he was waiting for an attack.

  Again, my lips lifted, and I breathed, “Bonnie and Clyde.” My eyelids fluttered.

  Ezra’s deep chuckle reverberated at my ear and against my back as his chest vibrated.

  Antonio rolled his head around on his shoulders, only to go into another coughing fit, but brushed away any help. In fact, he pushed Elder Venclaire’s shoulder, shoving him in our direction. He rasped, “She doesn’t have much time left. Go do it.”

  Elder Venclaire blurred, instantly at our side.

  Ezra didn’t flinch and the gun didn’t falter at the action, nor did he move when Elder Venclaire sat on the bed. Instead, he asked evenly, “What do you need to do?”

  “She’ll need to drink from me since we can’t give her my blood intravenously. Her body would reject it because it’s pure Vampire.” Blue eyes, just like mine, met my own. “You’ll need to quit masking so my power can find your own.” Softly, his fingers brushed a hair off my cheek. “It’s truly remarkable that you’re even doing it now.”

  “Practice,” I whispered. My heart literally faltered as I felt everyone’s eyes on us, and Ezra gave me a shake. My eyes slammed open, though I hadn’t even realized they had closed.

  “Hurry,” Ezra grumbled.

  My dad placed his hand gently over my Core and whispered, “Relax.” And I immediately felt calm. “Open for me. Quit masking.”

  Glancing at the others, who now wore varying expressions, my breath hitched, but I did as told. I quit masking. Years of training and survival instincts screamed at me, calling me a fool, as I laid myself bare to the power surging in the room, everyone already testing for the truth. I saw all but Antonio’s and Richard’s eyes widen, some more than others, their astonishment evident.

  “Good,” Elder Venclaire murmured, and I felt his power rise, his eyes beginning to glow. “Now, the hardest part.” His eyes met mine. “Don’t send me anything to dull my senses while you drink.” He placed his free arm’s wrist at my mouth. “I need to be coherent for this next part.”

  I blinked. I was starving, but I couldn’t move. I didn’t even think my fangs could extend. Inhaling a lungful of air, I whispered, “Can’t.”

  Ezra and my biological dad both stilled.

  Ezra cursed harshly, a round of inventive words, definitely not made for polite company, zinging throughout the room. “She’s worse than we thought.” Lifting his hand from around my waist, he tilted my head back, arching my neck before returning it to my waist, and then he gruffly ordered Elder Venclaire, “Bite yourself.”

  I couldn’t see anything but Ezra’s face the way he had me tilted. His eyes were more than likely still trained on Elder Jacobs, Elder Merrick, and Bindi, but they did dart down to mine, and he rumbled, “When this is all said and done, I’ve decided I’m going to kick your ass.”

  A breathy chuckle wheezed out of me, and I felt my heart stop. Completely stop. It squeezed painfully, only to thump again sluggishly. I coughed, even as Ezra’s own heart took off wildly, his eyes landing on mine and staying there. And then my father’s wrist was at my mouth.

  Rich and spicy blood poured past my lips and over my teeth, sliding down my tongue to my throat. I whimpered quietly as the heady taste of powerful Vampire filled my senses. I got in only one good swig before he healed. A bitty growl erupted in my throat. Pure Vampire.

  Ezra’s head was tilted, more than likely listening to my still faltering heart, but one eyebrow rose, his eyes darting to mine. “He wouldn’t heal if you let the girls out to play.”

  And before my dad pulled his wrist back to bite himself it again, my fangs did descend, my body’s natural instinct coming to life, and I bit into my biological dad’s wrist.

  He grunted softly. “There she goes.” I took a large pull from him, but instinct was a double-headed bitch because I instantly began sending him serenity. He jerked, shaking his wrist at my mouth, barking, “No!”

  I stopped drinking, breathing heavily through my nose. Christ.

  Ezra’s eyes darted to
mine. “So what do you think Jack and Pearl did to rouse everyone in the cave when you called and,” he glanced at me as I slowly took another pull, listening to him, “blatantly lied to them?” He paused. “I’m betting it was something hideous.” His eyes met and held mine, and I took another tentative pull. “Too bad I bet it won’t be as heinous as what they’re going to do to you once they find out you tricked them.”

  I took another pull, a larger one this time. And I didn’t send anything, but my eyes hooded at the rich taste pouring over my senses. Ezra chose that moment to glance down. His mouth was open to say something else, but he paused, and it snapped shut. Eyes going to the wrist at my lips, his own gaze hooded. I groaned softly, hungrily, as I pulled again, hearing a grunt come from my biological dad when I pulled long and hard.

  Ezra’s hooded gaze narrowed, and he bent his head, placing his lips against my ear. “Is he better than your favorite?” Even though his voice was barely a breath, his tone was clipped and short.

  I blinked even as my biological dad muttered, “For fuck’s sake, Ezra. She was out for two days straight in the infirmary.” He grunted as I pulled again. “She’s starving.”

  Ezra lifted his head back to stare me in the eyes, his gaze still hooded. I would have laughed if I wasn’t lying there dying. He was actually jealous that I might find someone tastier than him. And the truly sad thing was that even though my dad was damn delicious, I very much preferred Ezra’s taste over any I had ever had.

  Ezra sniffed and pulled his eyes back up to where he had the gun trained. “I’m sure that’s it.”

  Hilarity bubbled inside me, and I felt my lips curve more than they had been able before.

  Elder Venclaire snorted. “Jesus, that’s unbelievable.” A pause. “I need to start pouring my power into her before she bleeds me dry.” Another pause. “Ezra, you’ll need to put the gun down.” And that tone he used didn’t bode well for me.

  Ezra’s eyes darted his way and stayed. And the carefully blank face he plastered on most definitely didn’t bode well. “Alright.” He slowly lowered the gun with one last look to them.