by R Murray
“I want to talk about Emilie. Did you go and visit her today?” he queried.
“What concern is it to you Nikolas? She is my sister; I can see her as and when it pleases me. Besides, it was you that told me I had to keep watch over her. I was just doing as you commanded,” came her snide reply.
“I did ask you to keep watch over her that is true; but I do not believe I told you to torture her for information Melaina.” Nikolas smirked slightly as he saw the anger flare in her sky-blue eyes.
“I was not working for you Nikolas; I was working for Thanatos; gathering some information for him. It has nothing to do with you. Now if you excuse me, I must go and relay that information to him. You know how he hates to be kept waiting.” Nikolas flicked open his hand, the spell forming a block to the entrance of the Louvre. Melaina turned to face him.
“What is it you want from me Nikolas; I have already answered your question.”
“Do you not see what you have done? You have made Emilie choose a side, she runs with the wolves now. This is no longer a revolt Melaina, this is much darker, more dangerous than a small uprising by a few rogue wolves. What is coming will be a war like no other, and you have just placed the only witch that matches you in our enemy's hands. They may not have immortality, but they have the next best thing and I know you realize this to be true. I know that you understand how powerful Emilie's daughter is. We needed to keep Emilie on our side, but you have pushed her away. Do you think Thanatos will be pleased about that?” Nikolas said, anger dripping off every word. He was furious at what Melaina had done, and he knew that Lorcan would be also. But even worse would be Thanatos's rage when he learned that their only key to ending this war was now in the very hands of the people they were fighting.
“I will speak with Thanatos, he will understand. I will get answers from Emilie. I have not finished with her yet. She cannot hide with the wolves forever. Now let me go,” Melaina demanded. Nikolas reluctantly released the spell, Melaina gave him one last cold blue glare before disappearing in to the building. He had no choice now; he had to find Emilie and warn her of the threat that followed her. Thanatos and Melaina would not rest until she was in their control. She must leave France.
Thanatos stood at one of the large windows in his chamber, sharp eyes were fixed on the heated discussion happening between Nikolas and Melaina, the old witch had put a block around them so only they could hear what was being said, but Thanatos could guess that it was about: the White Witch. When he stopped Melaina from entering the palace it took everything in Thanatos to stop himself from going down, though he knew it would have been useless. He would never have been able to break through a witch’s spell. Finally, Melaina was released and soon a knock came at his door.
“Enter Melaina.”
She did as was asked of her, and Thanatos could see the apprehension on her face. Clearly, she was here to tell him something he was not going to like. He closed his eyes briefly, he did love Melaina in his own dark twisted way, but if she had not done what was expected of her then he would be true to his threat; he would not hesitate in killing her.
“Do you mind if I have some wine? Nikolas just wound me up so much out there.” Her soft voice made him open his eyes and fix them where she was already helping herself to a drink.
“I saw, what was that about? It looked quite intense. Did he hurt you?”
“No, he did not, he would not dare. He was just trying to scare me away from you. He has been trying the last few days,” she replied. Those deep blue eyes of hers never leaving his and he could feel himself getting lost in them. It was her sister who was meant to possess the power of seduction, yet Melaina seemed to have its elements perfected; at least with Thanatos anyway. He forced himself to turn from her and pour himself his own drink.
“I am glad that you have chosen to ignore him, it would be very unwise of you to go against what I asked of you,” Thanatos reminded her. He took a long sip of the blood he held in his glass as he faced her once more; certain he had gotten himself together and was not going to fall under her spell.
“Which comes to the next question. I am assuming because you are here that you have found out where Emilie is hiding her child,” he questioned casually. Though the look on her face told him that she had no such piece of information and he was pleased when he smelt the fear on her. She should fear him; he had warned her what would happen if she did not complete the task he had set her.
“Thanatos, she swears to me that she does not know where the child is, that she does not even know her name. She put a spell over her that meant that no one could find her, not even Emilie. She did not want the child to be pulled into the world we live in.”
“And you believe her?” Thanatos sneered.
“I tortured her, I asked her over and over, she even allowed me into her mind to prove that she was not lying, I only saw truth,” Melaina replied. Thanatos tightened his grip on his glass so much so that it shattered in his hand, blood dripped onto the white carpet; a mixture of his and the human he was drinking,
“Damn! I need to find that child! Where is Emilie now?”
“I do not know,” she replied, though Thanatos knew she was lying; the fact she would not look him in the eyes told him so.
“Do not lie to me Melaina! Tell me the truth! Now!” He demanded, his fangs slid out as anger took over him, Melaina cowered from him as he did so. Would he actually hurt her? It was a question he was surprised to be asking himself. Could he really bring himself to sink his fangs into that soft skin of the witch to kill? To devour in an act of passion maybe, but not to kill.
“I left her in her home; it seems that her pet wolf came back for her after all and took her back to the lodge. She is under their protection now and Nikolas is certain that she will now chose their side; that she will turn her back on us,” Melaina told him and Thanatos had to give her credit, that despite her fear she spoke with confidence.
“You mean you drove her to the wolves, you fool! Did you not think to bring her back here? Where we could watch her every move.” Growling, Thanatos grabbed Melaina and slammed her against the wall, his eyes turned to slits, fangs dropped completely as he unleashed the monster.
“I told you what would happen if you did not bring me what I wanted,” he snarled, his fangs dangerously close to her neck, so close he could almost taste her dark blood mixed deliciously with her fear. Her body trembling under his hold only drove him more wild, hungrier for her blood. It seemed that he could very well drain her life if he wanted to and he did not feel an ounce of guilt at such a dark thought.
“Thanatos please,” she begged, “I will do anything you want. I surrender myself to you and only you, just please do not kill me.” She pleaded. Her words finally broke through his manic thoughts and he pondered them for a few moments. He had waited for this moment for so long; the moment the black witch would surrender herself and her powers to him completely. Since the day she and Emilie had been turned, Thanatos had wanted no one else, and it had only taken three centuries to hear her utter the words of submission to him. Running his tongue over his fangs, he bent his head down and nipped at her neck, licking where the blood trickled from the small wound. Closing his eyes as he savoured the taste with an elicit pleasure. He had marked her now; she was his. Taking one last deep breath of her scent, it almost making him feel heady, Thanatos finally released her watching as Melaina slid down the wall to the floor. He turned from her and poured himself a fresh glass of blood, though nothing would taste as good as her, he held out his hand with her drink in it. She stood and took it from him with a shaky hand.
“You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you utter the words of submission to me Melaina. If I had known all it would take was to threaten your life, then I would have done it sooner,” Thanatos smirked, laughing at the glare he received from her in response. Lifting his glass to her inclining his head.
“Here is to a new life long partnership, but this does mean that only one of you wit
ches can survive now. If what you say is true and your sister runs with the wolves, then she cannot live, and it is only you that can destroy her.”
“I know this Thanatos, and I know that I made the mistake of leaving her, but I knew this much. The wolves are planning a revolt and they have built an army so much stronger than ours is right this moment. I do not doubt that they will reach out to the shifter clans also, and seek them as allies. We need to do something, we need to start building our own army. And I have the perfect place for us to recruit such fools.” Melaina spoke up. Thanatos lifted his eyebrow slightly wondering just what the Dark Witch was planning in that deliciously twisted mind of hers. He could tell by the malicious look in her eyes that it was going to be good, and it was going to be dark.
“Well do not leave guessing Melaina. Tell me of this plan of yours. I have a feeling I am going to like it very much.”
“We use the poor mortals that are wasting away in the madhouse in the city and the Bastille. They have no purpose to live any longer, they barely know they exist. So, you turn them, and I will weave some dark magic over them that will make them killing machines. They will be immortal, strong, deadly and at your command. The wolves will be no match for them.” Melaina explained, there was a hunger in her words, Thanatos could hear the want to kill, to reign darkness over the Forsaken once more, and he could not help the smirk that tugged at his lips.
“That my dark love, is perfect. Come nightfall tomorrow the streets of Paris will be filled with the cries of the undead, and a new hell will rise.”
Chapter Seventeen
Maccon was vaguely aware of Raff and Conan leaving the room and going outside after they had devoured the deer Conan had killed. Emilie had slept much of the time, and Maccon had let her. She needed to heal. He had no idea of the poison that was running through her or what it was doing to her. He guessed that it was a power that only witches understood and he did not really want to know the details. It would only make him angry, and he already wanted to hunt down Melaina and rip her to shreds. A sound from the bed brought him from his violent and dark musings; he had not realised that he had been staring longingly into the flames of the dying fire. Aware of the chill that was creeping into the old lodge, he quickly fed the fire before moving to the bed where Emilie lay. Her eyes were still closed, though he was sure that she was not sleeping. Reaching out, he gently ran a finger down her cheek. He flinched slightly as he felt the heat burning her skin. To his relief, the simple gesture seemed to settle the witch and Maccon soon sensed that she had fallen back to sleep. He, on the other hand, would not be sleeping this night nor most likely the night after that. In fact, he was certain he would not settle for as long as it took for Emilie to recover from her ordeal. Sighing deeply, Maccon leant down to brush a gentle kiss to Emilie's forehead; tucking the blankets tighter around her he rose and returned to his position by the fire. Here he could gaze into the dancing flames, but yet still keep Emilie in his sight should she wake or suffer a terror. Leaning back in the chair he let his mind wander. He thought back to the first time he had laid eyes on Emilie. It had only just been a week yet it seemed like a life-time ago. She had literally fallen into their lives. He had hated her at first, blamed her for Conan's injuries, been furious that his brother had taken it upon himself to rescue her. Now though, he realised he owed Conan a debt for his good fortune as he had unintentionally found Maccon his mate. Granted, he never thought his mate would be a witch, but you could not help who your heart fell in love with. And that was exactly what Maccon felt towards Emilie. Love. How did he know it was love? Well he had never felt this way about any female in his life and he had been with many of them. But all they had been were moments of lust; the need to fulfil his insatiable desires. No, this was something so different, a feeling so alien to him, but one that felt so right. Since the day he had taken Emilie against the wall in her humble little room he had felt such a fire, such a connection, and he knew in that very moment that he would not be able to break the bond that had been formed in that one heated encounter. She was enchanting, dangerous, interesting, a rare form of Aphrodite herself and Maccon had to pinch himself every now and then to be sure he was not dreaming; that this majestic beauty truly loved him back. That she had given him her heart and had chosen to walk with the wolves. And he was forever grateful that his brothers had accepted her; had accepted the love he felt for her even if it was in such a short period of time. He knew that they would protect her and that Raff would never betray her truth to Bardou, no matter how much it was going against all that he believed in. Raff was loyal to the heart and it helped that he had a mate back in England, that he understood the words spoken from the heart could not be ignored.
Maccon tore his eyes from the fire and let them fall on his sleeping princess. In this form she looked so innocent, like a doll so delicate that you were scared to break. Emilie was far from delicate and Maccon knew that. She was a force to be reckoned with and hell, she could look after herself. He stood and moved back to his love's side. Stretching out on the bed beside her, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. He felt her mould into his embrace, heard the contented sigh that left her lips as she snuggled into him. He took a deep breath, breathing in her scent, as he tuned into the steady beat of her heart. Its strong rhythmic beat telling him that she would be just fine, that her little body was battling the poison well. His precious witch would be back to herself in no time and he couldn't wait. He missed seeing her smile, hearing her teasing words as she baited him with such mirth he could never be angry at her. He missed her cooking and he knew the others did also. He chuckled to himself at the thought of a domestic life, something he never thought he would have, while still so young. It made him want to return to England so badly, to be away from such dangers that surrounded them. Leaning down he kissed the sleeping girl's lips gently whispering against them.
“I love you Emilie” He was surprised when a quiet voice replied.
“I love you too Maccon.” A grin spread across his lips as he settled down with Emilie. He felt his eyes close; the gently beat of her heart soothing him. Maybe he would sleep this night after all.
Raff found himself stalking through the forest early, so early even the birds were not yet awake to sing their dawn song. The other animals were still hidden away in their dens. It had been two days since Emilie had told them the truth of who she was and explained to them that the Lamia could not grant the wolves immortality even if they wanted to. He had decided it would be best if he sent word to England and now he waited to see what Bardou would do with this latest news.
Sighing deeply to himself as he came to stop at the nearby stream. Dipping his long chestnut snout into the cool water he drank deeply. He had chosen to take his morning walk as a wolf, he needed to run and to feel nature under his feet. He could not do that in human form. A rustle nearby had his hackles up and he lifted his head to the noise, ears twitching in every direction, sharp amber eyes scanning the area. His sensitive nose turned to the wind to try and seek out the scent; he did not have to wait long until a dark grey wolf came into view. The other male's piercing blue eyes fixed on Raff and he knew instantly who it was. Dropping his head slightly in a sign of submission he waited for the grey wolf to join him. He wondered when Bardou would arrive in Paris and he figured the latest development would have brought him out of hiding. Turning, Raff led the way back to the lodge. They would both transform there where there was clothing to cover them; instead of having two naked men walk through the forest. He could feel three pairs of eyes on them as they entered the lodge and he could smell fear from the three youngsters. Not even looking at them, both wolves padded silently into separate rooms to return to human form. Raff was the first to enter the main living space, now dressed in his trademark black breeches and red shirt that he left open to reveal his toned torso. He could feel Emilie's eyes on him and he winked at her causing a blush to creep up her neck and flush her cheeks. It also caused a glare from Maccon which he could
not help but laugh at. Maccon had basically claimed Emilie as his mate, and if either of the other two so much as glanced at her, he would send out a challenging glare; occasionally accompanied by his fangs.
It was not long before the looming figure of Bardou appeared in the room. Raff felt the atmosphere of the place turn cold as the three of them took in the beast that was the alpha of the Silent Walkers.
Bardou stood taller and wider than the other three wolves in the room; his azure eyes were piercing and intense, his body was thick set and hard and his hair was a silver grey that only made his eyes stand out even more. Raff watched as he strode to the fire and took a seat in front of it. His body was clad in a long green robe that he must have found in the room and just about fit him. He turned his eyes on Emilie first, and Raff felt Maccon tense, he placed a gentle hand on the pup's shoulder warning him not to make a move. Bardou was the alpha, he could do as he pleased and there was nothing Maccon could do about it.
“You must be Emilie. It is pleasure to meet you,” his deep voice echoed around the room, and Raff tightened his grip on Maccon as he felt the muscles of his shoulder tense.
“I am, you must be Bardou, it is a pleasure to meet you, I have heard much about you,” Emilie replied. Raff was surprised that the girl showed no fear as she spoke, he could tell that Bardou did not like Emilie, that he could sense she was not what he had been told she was. But Raff was not about to tell him the truth, not yet and he knew the other two certainly would not. Stepping forward he decided to direct the attention off the witch.
