He nodded. “I thought so. Thank you.”
Thank you? The relief she felt almost made her laugh. “I thought you might be upset.”
He shrugged. “I hated that man.” He paused. “However badly you think he hurt me. It was much, much worse. For years and years. And I wasn’t the first. A man like him shouldn’t get to live. Shouldn’t get to keep hurting children for a government paycheck.”
“Oh, Brendan…” She wanted to tell him she was sorry. That what happened to him was wrong. But something about the way he held himself made her swallow the words. This isn’t the time.
They broke through the thick woods that surrounded the road. In front of them, a dark castle was nearly overwhelmed by trees and plants left wild. Sickly green vines covered the bottom half of the building as if attempting to take the land for the wilderness once more. Dozens of expensive vehicles were already parked on the other side of the circular driveway.
“Looks like we’re the last to arrive,” she said, wishing her palms weren’t so sweaty.
“Is that good or bad?”
Bad. “It doesn’t matter. A Darkmore can never be anything but fashionably late.” Layla said the vote will be split. The fact that he had the other houses come before me won’t change that.
Their car stopped. The driver ran around swiftly and opened the door, and she exited in grand fashion. She swept her long skirts so that they would flow evenly around her, then took his arm. We can do this.I won’t lose my family’s home and everything we fought so hard for. I will protect my people.
I will.
At the top the stairs, the doors were open. Music exploded out into the cool, quiet night. It was harsh, angry music. Something that suited Draven Cerberus perfectly.
They entered the hall, and she felt every muscle in Brendan’s arm tighten. On both sides of their path alcoves with beds had curtains pulled back. Feeders stood in some of the open doorways, barely clothed. They showed their necks, which already had far too many unhealed bite marks on them, and gestured for them to join in.
She shook her head and pulled Brendan along, who stared, his jaw tightened with anger. Growls and moans came from the next room. She caught sight of a human female and two vampire males in bed out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t turn her face toward them, simply continued into the main part of the house.
Feeders were approved by her brother, but this is not how they handled these people in her home. Instead, humans and magical creatures were active parts of her household, and when she was hurt or in dire need of fresh blood, she used them with respect.
We don’t treat our Feeders like pieces of meat or livestock.
Perhaps harsher rules on the treatment of these people will be one of my first orders of business.
“I’ve never seen vampires eat before,” Brendan whispered softly in her ear. “Is this how it always is?”
She shook her head. “No. Not even close.”
Another set of doors was opened into a chaotic party. The room was dark other than red lights that flashed in random order around the room. Women danced, barely clothed, in cages that hung from the ceiling. And most of the massive space was crowded with dancing bodies.
At the far end of the room, Draven sat on a gray throne, human women surrounding him. Rubbing against him. One writhed in his lap as he regarded her, fangs bared.
She gritted her teeth. “So this is how you honor my brother?!” Her voice boomed through the room.
As she entered, slowly, regally, humans and vampires turned to stare. Their dancing slowed, and then stopped. After a moment, the angry music stopped too, and normal lights brightened slightly along the walls.
“Alexa!” Draven shouted from across the now-silent room. “Come in! Join the celebration!”
Brendan squeezed her hand softly in reassurance. She squeezed back, then let go of his elbow, her strides lengthening.
The crowd parted at her approach. When she reached the bottom of the stairs of his throne, she continued on until she was standing two feet in front of Draven.
“You will address me as Lady Darkmore.” Her voice cut through the quiet room like a knife. “My family has ruled these lands for hundreds of years, and you will respect it.”
He rose, the red-and-orange light in his eyes danced with his elementalist magic. “I thought to give you time to enjoy the celebration, but—”
“This celebration is over. It is not fitting to honor the life of my great brother with this…madness.”
Fire sparked to life in his palm, but she didn’t flinch away from it. “I’m sorry if it displeases you.”
“Are you?” She cocked her head. “Because only a fool would think this celebration, one that flouts our laws and disrespects the humans of our lands, appropriate. Are you a fool, Draven?”
“That’s Lord Cerberus to you.” His words were clipped as he looked from her to the crowd behind her. “And I am no fool. A fool is a person who would challenge a person far more powerful than themselves.”
She smiled, glancing at the crowd behind her. “It seems that my brother’s passing has loosened Draven’s tongue.”
A laugh rose up from the people watching the exchange.
“What are you implying?” Draven asked, encroaching on her space.
She straightened to her full height, which was half a head shorter than the vampire who challenged her. “I am implying that you, Draven, are a coward. A man who held his tongue while my brother ruled, but who suddenly seems to have grown a spine.” She placed one hand on her hip and looked back at the crowd. “Remember the story of good Lady Cynda? She fought an attack against an army of orcs using her power over the elements. When she was finished, she turned to her sister, who pierced her through the chest with a sword. Lady Serna called herself a hero for defeating the slayer of the orc army. But no one called her brave. She will forever be remembered in history as a coward. So now, Lord Cerberus, what would you say to me, while my brother’s grave is still fresh?”
She felt it. Every eye in the room on the man behind her. And in her people’s gazes, she saw their mixed emotions. Some looked guilty. Others looked expectant.
Turning back to the man she despised, she waited.
It took him a few moments to recover, during which she saw the workings of his mind in the expressions on his face. Then she saw it, the second he decided to challenge, her regardless of what their people thought of her. Or him.
“Lady Serna attacked a powerful woman who deserved to lead her people in a moment of weakness, driven by blind greed for a position she could not otherwise attain. I will not do that, Lady Darkmore.” He gazed around the room, the orange fires in his eyes gleaming with unholy light. “Instead, I ask that the houses appoint me as leader of the coven, in absence of a family member of the Darkmore house worthy of leading us.”
The crowd erupted into murmurs and shouts.
Lord Jareth Emrick came forward, separating himself from the crowd. He wore a well-tailored dark tux that emphasized his height and muscles. Unexpectedly, her gaze swung to Brendan who watched the situation through narrowed eyes. Before I saw Brendan, I thought Jareth the largest man alive. Now, he looked almost normal-sized.
Jareth winked at her and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “My vote is with the Darkmore house. They have ruled us long and well, and I believe Lady Alexa will continue to do so.”
Bacia Kyran shoved her way forward next, wearing a tight short black dress. “My vote is with the Cerberus house. We vampires are the top of the food chain.” She sneered. “I think somehow we forgot that.”
From one corner came a strong, deep voice. Lorcan Aldon stood from a chair in one corner, his bushy gray brows drawn low. He leaned heavily on a cane, his glare sweeping over the room. “The Darkmore house brought civility. Class. An age of peace and enjoyment of the finer things.”
“Do you have a point, old man?” Draven shouted, clenching his jaw tightly.
Lord Aldon’s gaze sharpened on h
er enemy. “My vote is with the Darkmore house. Not a spineless bastard.”
The ball of flames in Draven’s hand grew.
The old man inhaled sharply and blew. Air rushed through the room, knocking down the people in its path, and the flame in Draven’s hand died. Insulting one of Lord Cynda’s ancestors, the defeater of an orc army, was a poor choice, even by the cocky vampire’s standard.
Draven ran a shaking hand through his silver hair. “I—well, my vote of course is with the house of Cerberus. And as the rules state, the current leader of the coven cannot vote.”
“So, a tie,” Lord Aldon remarked.
Alexa saw the sympathy in his pure silver eyes as he caught her gaze.
Draven’s pleasure was written across his face. He stalked forward, faster than a human, and leaned into her, his breath whispering hot against her ear. “Agree to be my bride, and I will not challenge you to the customary fight.”
She shoved him back, anger heating her blood. “I would rather die than share your bed!” she retorted loudly. Too loudly.
Murmurs rose behind her along with a few laughs. And then, like an explosion, everyone was laughing.
Draven’s expression was thunderous. “Just for that, your death won’t be quick.” Then, he raised his voice. “House of Cerberus challenges House of Darkmore to a fight to the death. Winner take all.”
The laughter died.
There was stillness.
They think I am defeated.
“House of Darkmore calls Brendan Cardon as its champion.” She turned and looked at Brendan. He held his head high, his expression one of confidence, as he took a step forward and nodded.
Her enemy’s face twisted in disbelief. “A shifter?” He laughed, a hollow sound filled with shock. “Wouldn’t it be more merciful to kill him now?”
She smirked. “Careful, Draven, your fear is starting to show.”
Murmurs went through the crowd. “She can’t be serious.”
“He must not be a normal shifter.”
“What is she doing?”
Turning her back on all of them, she started toward the door, Brendan following closely behind.
“The battle will be held in two days’ time.” Draven shouted at her back.
“A week,” she said over her shoulder, not slowing.
“And here I thought to give him some chance. Aren’t wolves strongest before the full moon?”
She stiffened. He was right. Why hadn’t she thought about it? Does it work the same with alien shifters? She glanced at Brendan. He gave her the subtlest nod.
I wanted to give him more time to heal. “Two days,” she agreed, speaking loud enough for all to hear.
They strode past the Feeders and exited out to the coldness of night. At the bottom of the stairs, her car waited, expectantly. Her driver opened the door at her approach. But just as she was about to climb in, a voice stopped her.
“Lady Darkmore!”
Lord Jareth Emrick was hurrying down the stairs. The clumsy movements of his large body made her appreciate Brendan’s grace even more.
He smiled as he reached the bottom of the stairs, running a hand through his too-long blond hair. “May I speak to you a moment?”
She turned to Brendan and nodded.
Brendan stepped back, but only to the car, where he waited, his body tense. Alert.
“My lady.” To her surprise, Jareth reached out and took her hand. His gentle brown eyes seemed to caress her face. “This is the last thing I wanted for you. In this time of grief, that monster strives to hurt you even more.”
She forced a smile. Jareth was a good man. A vampire who had easily adapted to the changes in Mist. A man who hated violence and protected the weak without thought. “Thank you, Jareth. Your support meant the world to me.”
“I’m glad.” He moved closer to her. “The thing is, Alexa, I know things between us have never been more than friendship. But I’m growing tired of an empty house full of the memories of my dead family members, just as I’m sure you are. I’m not certain that I could defeat Draven in a fight, but I think I stand a better chance than your friend the shifter. So, I have a proposal for you. Be my bride. We could have a family together. And I believe with our joining, I can convince Bacia to side with us.”
Her mouth fell open with a gasp. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Jareth was a friend to her. She had never thought of him in a romantic way. But if marrying him could spare Brendan a battle that could take his life? What should I do?
“Before you answer,” he said, “let me make my intentions clearer.” And then, before she could react, he kissed her.
A second of pure surprise overtook her, and then she pulled back.
He smiled, a look she thought was meant to be sexy. And it might have been. If not for a certain hybrid shifter behind me.
“Think it over,” Jareth said, turning and striding back to the party.
She slowly turned to Brendan, reluctant to see his reaction.
The agony in his expression took her breath away. She hurried forward, reaching for him. He moved out of her reach, and her hands fell.
Standing stiffly at her door, he didn’t look at her. Instead, he motioned her to climb in.
She did so with her heart in her throat.
He sat beside her. The chill from his body radiated, filling the tight space.
“Brendan—”
“Don’t,” he commanded, his voice low and threatening.
Not sure what else to do, she sat beside him in silence. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She knew if she spoke about Jareth’s offer, he would tell her to refuse. She should keep her own counsel. Decide in the quiet of her room. But could she bear to let him think she was interested in another man? Is being a Darkmore going to cost me the chance for love?
The drive to her home was one of the loneliest of her life.
Chapter Eleven
Brendan stood on the balcony connected to his room, feeling empty. After dropping off Alexa in her suite, he’d taken a shower and put on a clean pair of boxers. A servant had dropped off a meal, which he ate even though the rich food tasted of nothing at all.
Seeing Alexa kissed by another man was one of the worst moments of his life. The physical torture he’d endured at the hands of the aliens at least had an end. He knew it couldn’t go on forever. But this feeling? It echoed through him, slicing him over and over again. And he had a feeling it wasn’t going to stop until his heart stopped beating.
Lord Jareth something or other was good-looking, young, wealthy, and of the same status as Alexa. Of course she wanted him. That made sense. All his fantasies of her wanting a poor, broken freak? That made no sense at all.
I knew there couldn’t be anything between us. Why did I let myself want her? I’m so stupid. I’m here to be her champion, and nothing more.
There was a soft knocking at his door.
“Come in,” he said, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the night air.
“Brendan?”
He whirled to see Alexa standing at the foot of his bed. She wore a short, silky green robe that was tied at her waist. It was clear she’d thrown it on when her body was still wet from a bath or shower. The fabric clung to every curve of her body, damp in the most delicious places. Her nipples pressed enticingly, even while the cut of whatever nightclothes she wore underneath showed a generous portion of her chest.
Is this a dream—or a nightmare?
“Your cream?”
And for the first time, he saw the silver tube in her hand. Of course, this is about preparing her champion.
He nodded in resignation. If all I am to her is a champion, I’m going to be the best champion I can be.“Okay.”
She gestured to the bed. “Sit down.”
He did, commanding himself to feel nothing. There was nothing sexual about her rubbing cream over his half-naked body, in a little robe. There was nothing sexual about her kneeling at the foot of his bed while he sat on the edge.
Nothing at all.
She started with his legs, rubbing gently. It seemed to him she took her time, her movements a cruel torture as she moved up. By the time she reached his thighs, his erection strained against his dark boxers. He closed his eyes, embarrassed.
The other man had offered to marry her. To give her a kind of protection he never could. She hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t said no either.
And her lack of answer? It meant that whatever he thought she was feeling for him was wrong. Because if she felt for me what I feel for her, she would have shot him down in an instant.
But his body didn’t care about that. When she began to rub his stomach, he bit down on a groan, breathing hard. She worked the warm cream into his chest, his nipples hardening as her soft fingertips brushed over them. Then she moved to his arms.
At last he felt her climb onto the bed behind him, goose bumps erupting as she rubbed his back, touching every inch of him. And then, she reached forward to rub his chest once more. Her breasts rubbing against his back.
When her hands moved to his stomach, he opened his eyes. Her lips brushed his neck in a way that had every nerve in his body screaming. If she had any idea how close he was to crashing over the edge, she would’ve been running from the room.
Instead, her hands slid up and down his stomach and chest, at last tearing a groan from his lips. “Alexa, are we—are we done yet?”
Her hands stilled. “Do you want me to be done?”
He turned in her arms, his mouth inches from hers. God, he wanted her. Wanted to kiss her. To touch her. To know what it felt like to be inside her.
“How would Lord Jareth feel about you being in my bed right now?” The angry, jealous words came out before he could stop them.
“Brendan—”
The pity in her gaze was too much. He rose from the bed, paced for a moment, and then went back out on the balcony, waiting for her to leave.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she pressed into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.
After a moment of indecision, he held her, breathing in her sweet, fresh scent.
Magic, New Mexico_A Touch of Death Page 10
