The Third Fate

by Nadja Notariani

  “Ah, lass. Doona make me beg,” he rasped, gripping her head, guiding her forward.

  She smiled, humming against his tight flesh before sliding her lips over his length. Naked before him on her knees, drawing him into her mouth greedily, Paige abandoned herself to him, worshiping his body with hers, taking as much as giving. Total surrender to him, to them, to the moment, multiplied her pleasure. Never before had she given without reserve, without fear. Cael Maccinnis owned her heart completely. She could no longer deny it.

  He pulled her away.

  “Come to me, lass. I want to be inside ye.”

  Paige wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her, backing her against the closed door and taking her in a single thrust. Hungry and possessive he invaded, his rough thrusts pinning her against the door. She cried out, coming around him as he pulled her wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs. Paige fractured again, her own thirst wild and demanding. Her fangs elongated, need overwhelming her senses, and she bit into his neck. The heady, metallic blood spilled over her tongue, prolonging the sweetest pleasure she’d known. Cael groaned deeply, her orgasm milking him, and he buried himself within her and spent, his heated pulse adding to her pleasure. Still pinned against the door, Cael deep inside her, Paige knew what and who she was, what she wanted.

  I am vampire. I am Druid.

  And her destiny was irrevocably tied to the ancient, Cael Maccinnis.

  The pain came on her then. Searing, stabbing, pain. She knew death had come to claim her. Her heart broke, for she had at last found her way, her self.

  More pain.

  Oh, Cael…the pain…

  Then darkness. And fire.

  *

  Malcolm staggered, steadying himself against the high-backed chair, and Pilar rushed to his side.

  “Is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Yes,” he answered. “My child journeys over the Netherworld.”

  Pilar walked him to her chamber where a small shrine stood. Pouring a drink libation over the statue of Arawn, ruler of the Otherworld, creator and patron of the vampire, she began the invocations for aid, protection, and safe passage over the Netherworld realms. Ankou, ruler of death, and Dis Pater, Lord of the Underworld, would seek to entice the traveler into their realms, stealing her chance of return to take her place as one of the undead.

  Arawn, however, was powerful. He guarded his creation diligently.

  Long ago, before the time mortals had subdued the earth, Arawn shared kingship over Otherworld with Hafgan. Arawn and Hafgan battled for sole leadership, yet because of powerful and strange magic, Arawn could not defeat his enemy. Pwyll, a mighty mortal, offered to trade places with Arawn for one year and one day, promising to defeat the usurping Hafgan to gain favor. Arawn consented. True to his word, Pwyll smote the tyrant - and handed over the Otherworld to Arawn. Pwyll asked no boon for his service, earning the love and respect of the god, Arawn.

  “Because of your mighty deed, loyalty and act of selfless service, I, King Arawn, Lord of the Otherworld, make you a gift. The Father of Time has allotted your kind one hundred-twenty years. Then you must pass to the Netherworld realms, finding your place amongst the kingdoms there. But I offer you kinship with the gods - eternal life. If you accept my boon, you must pass across the Netherworld, not stopping along the way lest you be diverted and never return to your body.”

  “Eternal life?” Pwyll repeated. “Kinship with the gods? What have I done to merit such a gift? Surely I would live long, mighty Arawn, but would I live to see my loved ones all pass from this realm and thus be alone for eternity? My heart cannot bear that thought.”

  “You desire companionship,” Arawn acknowledged. “You were created for relationship; it is your nature. Therefore, faithful Pwyll, I grant you a second boon. You may make those you love like you, gifting them eternal life if they survive the ordeal.”

  “If I survive this perilous journey, I must send all whom I love on its path?”

  “That is so,” Arawn replied, his voice rolling like thunder, “All that you choose, Pwyll. But your descendants shall evermore be born as you. Eternal.”

  Ankou and Dis Pater, angered over Arawn’s creation, appealed to the Father of Time himself, threatening rebellion if robbed for all time of Pwyll’s descendents and all those he changed, arguing that Arawn could rule over all Earth’s realms if Pwyll and his offspring Awakened all they came in contact with. The power of life and death would become unbalanced if eternal life could be gifted so easily.

  At that, the seeds of suspicion had been planted, and The Father of Time added his own restraints to Arawn’s creation.

  “Eternal life is a handsome prize, Pwyll, Awakened of Arawn. But even the gods must answer to me. Just as in the Otherworld, where darkness rules, so shall you be governed. Verily, I speak the truth. When you meet the dawn, you shall die.”

  Father of Time, turning to Arawn, spoke harshly.

  “You have created a race of beings that threaten my domains, Arawn, Lord of the Otherworld. To ensure they do not seek to change all of my creation, I impose my sanctions. All their days will they hunger for the life force of blood. Therefore will they sustain and nurture my creation, the living, for without them, they will starve.”

  Returning his fiery resplendence to Pwyll, the Father of Time pronounced his final indictment.

  “Vampyre. This is the title I bestow upon you. Roam the earth for eternity and serve your creator well. But heed my warning, creature of the night. I renounce claim to your soul and all like you, as do the Netherworld realms. Live in peace and cause yourself no fear of me.”

  Malcolm and Pilar recited the ancient story, exhorting Arawn to recall their faithful service over the whole of history come to pass since that first Awakening. The flame was lit, the incense carrying their supplications through the curtain that separated the earthly realm from the Otherworld, where Arawn presided over his court.

  Through the long night they remained on their knees, prostrating themselves before the altar on behalf of Malcolm’s child. Side by side, joined in spirit, he and Pilar solidified their bond, unknowingly widening the fissures that threatened to splinter vampire hierarchy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rowan held her breath, willing her heart to quiet as it thumped a wild drumbeat within her breast. Fife House’s library was open to all vampires, and she was doing nothing more than some research – but that didn’t matter now. The conversation she overheard through the stacks was enough to condemn her to the dawn. Thinking nothing of hearing the low murmur of voices, she’d continued browsing the pages of her book until whispers of Cael Maccinnis caught her attention. Avidly listening from that point on, Rowan’s fear grew with each passing word.

  Things had been uneasy and tense at Fife House, and Rowan now understood why. Cael had closed off his psychic link, which was not unusual. He was notorious for doing so. Without the means to speak directly with him unless he chose to reveal himself, Rowan knew she had no choice but to risk reaching out to him. But not here. Not now.

  With Alden’s whereabouts unknown, Rowan was alone. Before she could attempt anything she had to remain unnoticed by the two vampires in the lower level reference section.

  “But Gwendolyn has never met the half-born. Can she project the image well enough to deceive Maccinnis?”

  “Relax, Conrad,” Kaiden Douglas hushed, accenting the first word with serpent-like speech. “We’ve figured a way around meeting her.”

  “How?” the ancient vampire asked suspiciously.

  “We’ve introduced ourselves to her family.”

  Conrad hummed in wicked delight, “Genius. Now we must determine how to lay our trap. We cannot risk Maccinnis being with the half-born when we set Gwendolyn on him.”

  “Again, Conrad, relax. Your lack of faith is most disturbing. I’d hate to have to dissolve our tentative alliance because of your trust issues.”

  “Don’t threaten what you cannot follow through with, Kaiden. It
’s the first rule in a power-play. You’d do yourself well to learn it.” Conrad returned, disdain plain in his tone.

  “You give me far less credit than I deserve,” the lesser vamp shot back.

  At last, fading footsteps announced their departure from the rarely utilized section of the library, and Rowan exhaled slowly, sinking to the floor to recover her wits and decide what her first step of action should be.

  Ten, then fifteen minutes passed, and when she was assured the vampires had left for good, Rowan moved down a few aisles and pulled the Druid magic books from their slots, filling the empty spaces with books from another shelf. She hated to piss-off the librarian but couldn’t risk anyone finding the books missing. If Gwendolyn was back in town bad things were about to happen. The she-vampire conjured powerful magic and wielded it ruthlessly. Her lies and betrayal nearly destroyed Cael once; Rowan wasn’t about to sit back and allow Gwendolyn to wreak havoc in her friend’s life again.

  Strolling out of the library in nonchalance, projecting a distracted manner, Rowan slipped through the doors with the texts tucked safely in her shoulder bag. Sending a direct call telepathically would alert anyone monitoring Cael, and she was certain Conrad and Kaiden would be doing just that. Rowan needed an indirect path of communication. An idea took shape in her mind. The Garrow brothers. She hurried to the west wing to gather her things.

  Ewan and Eagen Garrow were infamous within the vampire world. The black market was their playground, and they had connections throughout vampire and mortal realms. The brothers would likely jump at the chance to thwart any secret plan of the established powers. Unlike the chaos loving anarchists, Ewan and Eagen favored order and law, just their own brand.

  If she could convince them to believe her.

  She held only a loose association with them, work done a few years ago with their team on an internet bank hacking problem that had stolen much money from vampire accounts across the Islands. Gaining an audience with the vampire equivalent of crime syndicate brothers might prove to be a tricky business – if her gift failed her.

  Rowan shoved a few things in the shabby duffel, unsure of her final destination. Anxious to depart from Fife House and be clear of the foreboding she’d experienced since hearing the exchange between the Coven leader and the Council member, Rowan concentrated, praying her unique talent held true. A clear mind was necessary to move quickly and efficiently through the black nothingness between dimensions; and no one moved like Rowan. She could feel her way to those she sought Closing her eyes, Rowan envisioned the Garrow brothers, sure to exclude any images of place so as not to divert her to the wrong destination. Slowly taking form in an ultra modern entertainment room, Rowan found herself smack dab in the midst of the brothers’ home.

  “I did it,” she said in wonderment, unable to believe she actually found them on her first try.

  Ewan remained comfortably seated on the white leather sofa, eyebrow arched in curiosity. Eagen, however, was on her at once, grabbing hold of her arm.

  “We were not expecting anyone,” he growled.

  “I…I needed to find you.”

  “Welcome, Rowan of Clan Maceoghan. To what do we owe this surprise visit?” Ewan asked, seemingly amused.

  “You remember who I am?” her mouth gaped a minute.

  Collecting herself Rowan closed her mouth, embarrassed at her awkwardness and lack of refinement. She had never been a smooth operator when it came to things like this.

  Ewan laughed, crossing his leg. Even the highly intense Eagen relinquished his hold on her upper arm.

  “Yes, Rowan. If I remember correctly, I told you you had the keenest instincts I’d encountered. Besides my own,” Ewan chuckled, completely at ease.

  “I need your help,” she blurted.

  Darting her gaze around the room and between the vampires, Rowan wasn’t sure if she should go on or wait for a response. Eagen eyed her sharply.

  “We’re not in the business of philanthropy,” he bit out.

  “What sort of help?” Ewan asked over top of his brother’s dismissal.

  “It…It’s not for me,” she clarified. “It’s for my friend.”

  “And who is this friend of yours?” Ewan probed.

  “Better yet, why should we care?” Eagen scoffed.

  Rowan was sure Eagen would run her out any minute. She decided to talk fast.

  “His name is Cael Maccinnis. He’s hiding this half-born…I don’t know really. But two vampires, one…”

  “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Ewan lit up. “Cael? What trouble has that vamp gotten into? He keeps a low profile these days, Miss Rowan, but ah, you remember the good old days, don’t you?”

  Rowan remembered Cael’s wild days, begun after Gwendolyn’s betrayal. That all ended after Rose disappeared. Rowan heard that the young female had been left out for the dawn, but Cael never broached the subject, and she’d never had the nerve to ask. Cael never recovered fully afterward.

  “Aye, I do,” she said at last.

  “And now, Rowan,” Eagen joined the conversation, no longer attempting to shut her up, “tell us about these two vampires you mention.”

  Shaking off old memories, Rowan continued with her story, relating all that had been spoken between Conrad of Clan Maccinnis and Kaiden Douglas. By the time she finished Eagen paced the room like a caged hound with the scent of prey in its nostrils.

  “Bloody Council!” Ewan mocked. “Drunk on their own power, they are. This Conrad…”

  “Is a traitor!” Eagen roared. “Cael is his own kin.”

  “Aye, brother,” Ewan nodded in agreement. “The question is, how can we help him?”

  “And,” Eagen added, peering directly at Rowan, “how did she get in here so easily?”

  Rowan’s heart dropped. These were not the sort of men you wanted suspicious of you.

  *

  Anna Kinnell looked questioningly at her daughters when the knock at the door broke into their conversation. She had divulged her knowledge, as little as possible, after Paige’s abduction. Brooke and Lara were stunned to learn that they were descended from a line of Druid priestesses, that their Aunt Agnes had broken all the Druid laws in falling in love with a vampire, and that their cousin and adopted sister, Paige, was the child of that vampire. Most distressing aside from worry over their cousin was the fact that their mother had denied them the knowledge of who they really were their entire lives. The girls understood their mother’s fears, especially after discovering their Aunt Agnes’ Fate, but adamantly protested Sissy’s methods. Each passing day they failed to hear word from either Paige or the vampire, they grew less sure they’d ever see her again.

  “It’s a man and a woman,” Lara whispered after looking through the peephole. “They have suits on. Should I open the door?”

  Anna nodded.

  “Wait!” Brooke cautioned. “We’d better be sure about this.”

  She scanned her mother and sister’s faces for any sign of doubt.

  “All right. We’ve been over the story a million times.”

  Lara opened the door, the chain allowing only a meager crack of separation from the frame.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Is this the home of Anna Kinnell?” the man asked in an official tone.

  The pair stood straight and stiff, black suits under long jackets. If Lara didn’t know better she’d guess they were airport investigators or city detectives. But the airport had informed them that no one would come to their homes, that all interviews would be conducted at the local police departments or at airport offices.

  Probably to prevent situations like this one, she thought ruefully.

  “State your business, kindly,” Lara stated firmly.

  The door flew in, ripping the chain from the wall and throwing Lara backward. Brooke screamed, startled at the sudden violence, then rushed to help Lara to her feet before they closed protectively around their mother. Anna rose from the sofa, coming in-between t
he girls, chanting a protection spell she’d repeated countless times for her niece, Paige.

  Kaiden slowed, confusion evident on his face, prompting Gwendolyn’s cutting laughter.

  “A mastermind you may be, Kaiden, but preparedness for application is not your strong suit.”

  Waving her hand in an intricate pattern while speaking a blocking spell, Gwendolyn ended Anna’s attempt at enchantment, releasing Kaiden from the imposed stupor.

  “Do try and keep up, Kaiden, dear,” she said, relegating him to amateur status.

  “Sorry, Druid,” Gwendolyn sneered. “You’ll have to come with better than that if you hope to best me. Maybe you’ve dealt fledglings these paltry charms, but you’re up against high end refinement now, old woman.” Coming close, Gwendolyn stared smugly at first Lara, then Brooke. “For Druids, you two don’t put up much of a fight.”

  Brooke, the more feisty of the twins, smiled devilishly right before she slammed her forehead into the female vampire’s nose. Blood poured instantly from Gwendolyn’s nose a moment before it healed, the she-vamp caught off guard and seething because of it.

  “That’s a Glasgow Kiss, Miss Refinement” Brooke said with bravado. “A gift, courtesy of everyday city folk.”

  Gwendolyn threw the blond to the floor, her strength overwhelming and unmatched by the young human woman.

  “Be careful, girl; I don’t need you alive. And I’d hate to make you watch me kill your darling mother and sister first.”

  The simple statement sobered Brooke, and she glanced at her mother, her expression apologetic. But it had felt good to deal one good blow…

  “What is it you want from us?” Lara asked in frustration.

  “They want us to tell them where to find Paige,” Anna Kinnell enlightened her girls as she stared at the woman. “You’ve come to the wrong house, vampire. She’s not here.”

  “Obviously,” Gwendolyn sighed, bored already. “Tell me where she is, and I might let you and your charming daughters live.”

  “We can’t,” Brooke smiled impishly, not believing the vampire would let them live either way and determined not to cower in fear.