by Kresley Cole
Regin jerked her head around. Through the rain, she spotted the soothsayer strolling along the beach toward them. Nïx? She was the one Regin had sensed?
The soothsayer had white sunblock on her nose, high-heeled flops, a wide-brimmed hat—and Bertil perched on her shoulder. Her T-shirt read: I Lost My Heart on Immortal Island.
“Nïx!” she cried. “Is Chase going to live?”
“Dearling, it’s up to fate now.”
“Back in New Orleans, you asked me what I would do to break the curse. I said just about anything then. Now I’m saying anything! Tell me what to do, Nïx!”
“All that could be done has been. Now as soon as everyone gets here, Malkom will be a dear and trace us off the island.” She turned to Carrow. “Until then, good witch, a round of freedom for Regin’s friends! And for … him.” She pointed to Lothaire.
He intoned, “Valkyrie.”
“Vampire,” she said in greeting. The bat unfurled its wings aggressively.
Regin gathered Chase’s head into her lap, frantically smoothing the hair from his cool forehead. When Brandr’s hand covered her shoulder, her tears fell, splatting against Chase’s cheek. “Wh-what are you doing here, Nïx?”
“You know how it goes, had some miles about to expire. And it’s just like you said. A little vacay was all I needed!”
Her voice thick, Regin asked, “Is Lucia safe? Did she face Cruach without me?”
“Cruach is no more! She and Garreth MacRieve took him out forever.”
Cruach’s dead. Regin’s mind could hardly wrap around the idea.
“The two lovebirds are here on the island,” Nïx continued, “hoofing it to get to you.”
Lothaire stalked toward Carrow. “Free me, and be quick about it.”
“That’s right,” Nïx said. “You’ll want to be at full power before the wolf arrives. Since you broke his female’s neck down in the Amazon. Directly after you woke La Dorada.”
Regin gaped. “He did what?”
“Witch, now,” he grated.
“Don’t get pissy with me, leech.” With a glare, Carrow pressed her print to his torque. “Even tapped out, I can still do a love spell to make you fall in love—with the sun.”
When the collar dropped to the ground, Lothaire rolled his head on his neck. But instead of disappearing immediately, he traced to stand mere feet from Nïx.
A towering vampire with skin like marble and chillingly flawless features was staring down a petite Valkyrie with crazed eyes and a cryptic smile.
The tension between the two was palpable. Even on the verge of flipping the fuck out, Regin couldn’t look away.
“The Accession grinds on, does it not?” Lothaire said.
“Just like old times.” Nïx winked. “Alas, Dorada will come for you once she rises again.”
“I’ll be ready.” He narrowed his red eyes. “You’ve likely foreseen this moment. Tell me, are we to fight now? As in the past?”
“You defy foresight, Lothaire.”
“That’s only fair, Phenïx, since you’ve long defied insight.” Phenïx?
Nïx canted her head. “What does your Endgame tell you?”
“That white queen will never take black king.” He gave her a formal bow. “Until our next match.”
“There won’t be a next match, vampire.”
His brow creased into a frown, the Enemy of Old disappeared.
With a lackadaisical air—as if she just hadn’t been toe-to-toe with the Lore’s most-feared fiend—Nïx strolled over to Regin. “Tsk, tsk.” She gazed down at Chase. “He was such a cute boy. He gave me a hug good-bye that day at the fair, even though he thought I was a fortune-teller crone.”
Regin swung her head up. “You saw him?”
“Saw who?”
“Nïx!”
“Regin!”
Inhale. Exhale. Pet Chase’s forehead. Don’t go crazy like her.
Lucia arrived then, hand in hand with Garreth MacRieve. “Regin, thank gods, you’re al— who are you holding?”
Out of the corner of her lips, Carrow said, “That’s the guy I was telling you about.”
Lucia’s eyes went wide. “This isn’t the man who … tortured you?”
“It’s complicated, Luce. J-just help me get him back to Val Hall.”
“Help him?” Garreth growled. “After he tortured my cousin Uilleam? Who, incidentally, is seconds behind us and bent on mauling this mortal.”
Freed of his collar, Brandr stepped up. “He’ll have to go through me.” His eyes glowed, his muscles burgeoning.
Natalya flared her poisonous claws. “And me.”
Thad bowed up his chest. “Me, too.”
Garreth looked ready to tangle. Lucia plucked her bowstring, her loyalties torn. A howl sounded in the near distance, footfalls crashing closer. …
It was Malkom who broke up the tension. “The magister tortured me, as well.”
Great, another hater. “You got your revenge, demon! You want more?”
“I have Carrow because of him,” Malkom said. “I want no revenge. I seek to repay.”
Carrow gazed up at Malkom like a sap. “Let’s start by tracing him the hell out of Dodge.”
FIFTY-SIX
For two days, Chase lay in her bed at Val Hall, pale, still, his heartbeat so sporadic that at times she thought he’d … died.
Brandr had paced a hole in the rug, while Regin struggled to hold on to hope.
No one had any idea what would happen, not even Nïx, who’d only absently said, “Such a sweet little boy.”
Now, as another morning broke, Regin rechecked the curtains, ensuring that no light reached him. “Will you stay with him, Brandr? I need to go downstairs for a bit.” To go on a fool’s errand.
“Of course.”
She leaned down and kissed Chase’s damp forehead. Strapping on her borrowed sword, she marched from her bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door of Val Hall.
Thad and Natalya were on the porch swing, drinking coffee and holding vigil with Nïx.
Regin’s sisters had initially taken issue with a half vamp like Thad and a dark fey like Natalya gaining entry past the wraiths, but Regin had been adamant about their staying.
Thad asked her, “Is DC going to be okay?”
“He’s totally gonna pull through,” Regin said, but even she recognized that she sounded half-hysterical, her words tinged with that out-of-place confidence people had when staring down a gun barrel.
“Don’t be long, Regin!” Nïx called. “And if you see Bertil, tell that little scallywag that it’s past his bedtime!”
Huh. Nïx is literally batshit cray-cray.
Regin tossed her hair toll to the wraiths in order to cross their guard. With their forbidding presence and brute strength, those flying, spectral creatures kept anything out of—or in—the Valkyrie’s manor.
But the yard was another matter. Regin cast a murderous look at the crowd gathered along Val Hall’s drive. They were like vultures, waiting there either to celebrate Chase’s death—or to kill him.
The only thing that kept them from advancing? The recently repaired driveway gate, imbued with Carrow’s protection spell.
Regin flipped the crowd off with both hands, bobbling her birds up and down for good measure while mouthing, Suck it. Then she headed to the swamp on Val Hall’s property.
Near the water’s edge she stopped beside a monument, one that looked totally out of place in the bayou: a Norse rune stone, draped with swamp moss, on “indefinite loan” from a Scandinavian museum of natural history.
Taking a deep breath, she knelt in front of it. Clearing her throat, she muttered, “Are you there, Wóden, it’s me Regin.” She gave a nervous laugh.
“I know you and Freya sleep, and that praying to you is probably just a big fat waste of time. But I have to try. Seems I’ll try anything.” Another steadying breath. “So, Wóden, I need you to do me a solid and save the life of Declan Chase, a.k.a. Aidan the Fierce. …”
She trailed off. This is stupid. She needed to be by Chase’s side, not talking to inanimate objects. What if he … dies while I’m gone? She swallowed. Then he’d still be gone. Attention back on the rock, she said, “Look, I know I’m not your favorite daughter, never have been. But I’m still your daughter! If you’re punishing Aidan for his hubris, then know that you’re punishing me too. No, you’re destroying me.”
Though she tried to bite back the words, out they came: “I’ve hated you for this! How can you do this to me? For a thousand years, I’ve lived with this curse, when I should have been living with him.”
Her voice broke, and embarrassing tears streamed down her face. “P-please … please just let me have him this time.”
Nothing. Only the sounds of the swamp waking from the night. She hadn’t expected lightning to hurl down or anything, but she’d hoped for a glimmer of a sign, anything to give her hope.
Instead, she’d just become deeply aware of how insignificant she was, of how her prayers meant nothing.
Which pissed her off.
She shot to her feet and kicked the stone. That felt good. So she shoved her braids out of her tear-streaked face and kicked it again. “I’ve never asked you for anything!” She drew her borrowed sword, slamming it against the rock so hard her blade and arm vibrated. “Wake—the—hell—up!” Another swing. “I can’t lose him again!” She dropped the sword, launching her fist against the rock. Just as Aidan had in ages past.
As sobs racked her body, she pummeled her forearms against the stone. “L-let me have him.”
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she stilled. Lucia, as silent as ever. “Sister, calm yourself.”
Regin turned, unsteady, sucking in a lungful of air.
Lucia’s eyes widened at her appearance. “My gods, Regin. You really want him this much? I still don’t understand. Carrow said he’d tortured you.”
She squared her shoulders. “So our courtship was rocky. When have I ever done anything normally?”
Lucia inclined her head, conceding the point.
“Besides, you’re with a werewolf, Luce. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Engaged to him, actually. We were just waiting to find you before we have a grand-scale royal ceremony.” For secretive Lucia to be the center of attention that big …? She must truly want MacRieve.
“The wolf was okay with you waiting for me?”
“I explained that I could never do something that important without my wingman.”
Regin tried for a smile and failed. “Yeah, well, that’s the least you can do since you two ganked Cruach without me.” After all these centuries, Lucia was finally freed of her worst nightmare.
“I didn’t have a choice, Regin. Since you were tied up with your … courtship.”
“Did Lothaire really break your neck?”
“Oh, yeah.” Lucia unconsciously rubbed her nape. “Garreth went ballistic.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to sacrifice your archery mojo for MacRieve.” Lucia would forfeit her fantastical skill with a bow if she was unchaste. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you’re a talentless nobody?”
Lucia quirked a brow at that. “I don’t have to sacrifice it. Turns out, it’s been my own skill for some time.”
“Wow. That’s great, Luce.” Everything was working out for her. “You deserve this happiness after you’ve waited so long.” But so do I!
“Now, come on.” Lucia reached forward to sweep her thumbs under Regin’s eyes. “Things are getting tense around the manor. Even more beings are lining up to take out your man.”
“I’ll kill them all.”
“Though Garreth’s cousin Uilleam isn’t among that mob, he will seek revenge in the future. Apparently, Chase had him … vivisected. What would you do to my fiancé’s cousin then?”
Regin tapped her ear. “Hellooo, you got something in your ears? I said, I’ll—kill—them—all. Including anyone in your wolf pack, if you don’t make with the royal decree and declare my man off-limits.”
“Huh.” Lucia tilted her head. “I could do that, couldn’t I?”
“Yep.” As Regin picked up her sword, she gazed at the stone one more time, laying her palm against it. She silently cried, Please!
Lucia put her arm around her shoulders. “You know Wóden can’t hear you.”
“Didn’t figure it could hurt.”
“Lothaire’s blood is strong,” Lucia said. “It might still work. But don’t depend on our father for this.”
Yet as they walked back to Val Hall, a warm breeze blew against Regin’s face, almost like a caress.
Declan’s eyes flashed open, and he sucked in a deep breath. Where am I? Where’s Regin? Gaze darting, he shot upright in bed.
Brandr was there. “Easy, friend. You’re safe—your woman’s safe. She’ll return directly.” As thunder rumbled the walls, he said, “We’re inside Val Hall.”
Only then did Declan relax a measure, surveying his surroundings. If he hadn’t known he was in Regin’s bedroom by her scent, he would have by the decorations.
Concert posters covered the walls, bands from ABBA to Phish. Workout gear and video games abounded. Strands of Christmas lights dangled from the ceiling, only these had strings of vampire fangs wrapped around the cords. Tightly closed tie-dyed drapes blocked out all but a few needle holes of sunlight.
The bedding? Star Wars sheets.
“You’re healed now,” Brandr said. “Your wound’s completely mended.”
Declan glanced down. There was no new scar to join his others.
All his life, he’d suffered nightmares of that blow, of Regin’s screams.
Her grief had hurt him far worse than any cold steel could.
“So I’m a vampire now.” Bitter disappointment settled over him. She might say she wanted him like this, but he could never walk in the sun with her again. And what if his blood-drinking disgusted her?
At the thought of drinking blood, he grew nauseated, still disbelieving that Lothaire’s ran through his veins.
“You’re an immortal, and that’s what matters,” Brandr said firmly.
“How long have I been out?”
“Two days. Here”—he tossed him a pair of jeans—“I know you’re keen to see Regin.”
As Declan rose to dress, he thought he heard someone outside yell his name. “What was that?”
Brandr gave him a rueful look. “There might be a few dozen beings gathered outside. And they might be bent on revenge against you, even for things you didn’t do. Apparently, you’re the poster boy for the Order, and Loreans want their pound of flesh.”
This is what I’m bringin’ to the table, Regin.
Brandr continued, “Although there are only about three hundred mortal berserkers left, they are your men to lead, Aidan. Dispatch any of us against your enemies.”
“I’m no’ Aidan. And I’ll clean up my own mess.”
“Not Aidan? But you claimed Regin. The curse …”
“He’s a part of me, but he’s long gone. I’m still a scarred and surly Irishman.” He reminded himself that he was what Regin wanted. At least, before he’d been turned into a leech.
“You have his memories?”
“Oh, aye, I remember you from before. You were a young smart-arse whose guard was too low.” Then he grew serious. “I also remember that you made me a vow ages ago, one you kept for centuries.” Holding the man’s gaze, Declan said, “I’ll protect Regin from now on. I’m releasing you from that oath, Brandr.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve been a true friend. You have my gratitude and always will.”
Brandr was looking at him strangely. Not surprising, considering the circumstances, but still … Yet he said nothing, just stalked around the room, batting a boxing speedbag, toeing a pink bowling ball on the floor.
Declan exhaled. “Say what’s on your mind, ber-serker.”
“Your eyes were just glowing as you spoke. And when you were unconscious, I noticed that—�
��
“Release the hounds, muthafuckas!” Regin screamed from outside.
Eyes wide, Declan charged toward the sound, with Brandr right behind him. When Declan threw open the bedroom door, it exploded off its hinges. As he stomped down the stairs, he laid his hand on the railing, rendering the wood to splinters.
“Regin!” He stormed out the front door onto the front porch … directly into the sun.
FIFTY-SEVEN
“ Let us have him!”
“This has nothing to do with you, Valkyrie.”
“He’ll pay with his life!”
Loreans were out for Chase’s blood, which meant Regin was out for theirs.
But at her command, Lucia sighed. “Really, Regin? Release the hounds?” She stood at the gate, her hand on the mystical lever.
“Nut up or shut up, Luce. I’m tired of looking at these assholes, tired of listening to them. Let’s do this.”
With a roll of her eyes, Lucia said, “I’ll be on the porch with Nïx, acting as your spotter.” Then she opened the gate.
As beings of all stripes stalked toward Val Hall, Regin choked up on her sword hilt, ready to swing for the fences—
A man’s deep voice rang out. “Regin!”
“Chase?” Barely daring to believe, she glanced over her shoulder. He was alive!
He and Brandr had come barreling out the front door, but when they tried to make it past the wraiths, those guards hurtled them back.
Lurching to his feet, his face a mask of fury, Declan charged forward again, hitting the barrier like a freight train. The wraiths shrieked. Never heard them do anything but cackle.
The third time he charged, he was in full-on berserkrage. Nïx negligently tossed a braid, and the wraiths were all too happy to let him alone speed through.
As he closed in on her, Regin’s jaw dropped, and the fracas ground to a halt. Chase was huge, and scarred, and he looked dangerous. His muscles rippled, his eyes burning with ferocity as his gaze locked on her.
And gods, she was so freaking in love with him.
“Chase!” She ran to him, and he caught her up in his arms, clasping her tight. “You’re alive!” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “And uh, really strong.” He loosened his grip on her. She drew back to see him casting her foes a look of such pitiless menace that even the stronger ones backed down.
