by Eva Brandt
The simple tones distracted her and I decided to try something similar. Conversation clearly didn’t work. Instead, I went with touch, kissing her tears away, keeping every gesture platonic and non-invasive.
“Why?” Imogen whispered. “Why is this happening? I don’t want this. This isn’t fair.”
No, it wasn’t. If life had been fair, Imogen would have never had to suffer at all. Daimon Rossi would have long ago died at the hands of one of her ancestors. And none of the creatures like him would be alive today to plague us with their existence.
But reality didn’t care about what was fair. In our world, strength took precedence over everything else. Imogen was strong, her life as a huntress having taught her to withstand demons. We’d just have to make sure she could keep fighting.
“Xander, she can’t beat this alone,” Ulysses said, as if guessing my thoughts. “We’re going to have to give her a hand.”
At one point, he’d managed to slide out of Imogen. He was white, as if he’d just seen a ghost, but he didn’t look physically hurt. “If you have a plan, I’m all ears,” I told him.
Byron kept humming, but nodded. Imogen laughed. “There’s nothing you can do. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I don’t belong to you. You need to free me. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing, nothing, nothing.”
She kept chanting that, over and over, but Ulysses wasn’t thwarted. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
Between the three of us, we managed to immobilize her better and position her in a safer, more comfortable position. Then, Ulysses pressed his hand to her heart, right over the necklace of fangs she was still wearing. I joined in and so did Byron.
“You won’t take our soulmate,” Ulysses said. “Begone, foul demon!”
It wasn’t a spell, because like us, Ulysses didn’t use chants and incantations. Half the time, he wasn’t comfortable with his demon side at all. But the pure energy of his core was still there and it reached out to all of us, bringing us together to fight for the same woman.
If we had finished claiming her, this wouldn’t have been necessary. The bond would have allowed us to protect her without Ulysses resorting to his demonic skills. But trying to complete the connection now would only result in disaster. This would have to do.
I took a deep breath and focused on Ulysses, using him as a guiding light, as a way to touch our mate’s heart. Even if she was officially part of our pack, she wasn’t a werewolf, so I hadn’t tried to talk to her telepathically before. Byron hadn’t either and his chances of reaching her that way were even slimmer than mine.
“Begone, demon!” Ulysses repeated.
At the same time, Byron and I fought our way through the demonic haze and willed Imogen to hear us out. “Come to us, Genny. Come!”
The world blurred. Darkness invaded my vision. And that was when I saw it—when I saw the monster.
Imogen’s delicate features twisted. Her cheekbones sharpened so much they looked a little like the daggers she had once wielded in battle. Her tears turned black, almost inky. “You should be careful, Xander Brooks,” she said. “You might get your wish, but it will curse you.”
Shadows twisted around us. Byron let out a sharp gasp and tightened his hold on Imogen. “You’re not her. Don’t pretend that you are.”
“You’re the one who’s pretending. You’re lying to yourselves and to your union, and for that, I will make you pay. In the name of the Julii, I will destroy you. I will honor my clan and my duty, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
* * *
Ulysses
“In the name of the Julii, I will destroy you.”
The words echoed between us like a sentence. I didn’t know what to make of them. Imogen had turned away from her family, because they had turned away from her. They’d rejected her, even if her new nature wasn’t her fault. They’d called her a monster and had tried to kill her. And now, here she was, speaking as if she was still fighting for them.
Maybe it had been a little too optimistic of us to hope she could let go of the past so easily. She was right and we had been lying to ourselves.
But we hadn’t lied to her, at least not when we’d told her how much she meant to us. And that was still true, no matter what kind of shadow lingered over her heart, no matter what demon haunted her.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward, ignoring Imogen’s screech of protest. Byron and Xander were right there, by my side, their unfaltering support helping me along the way. We were a team and we would free our mate, no matter what we had to do.
“Leave!” I insisted. “This isn’t your home. You have no right to be here.”
At the back of my mind, I could see Imogen shattering. Her shadowy twisted reflection tried to reach for us with clawed fingers. “You can’t do this. Don’t push me away. Don’t abandon me to him.”
She sounded so much like Imogen that I almost faltered. But Imogen’s true presence was different. Our bond went beyond physical things. It could read souls, and because of that, I knew Imogen wasn’t the one talking to me.
My lover was still there and she was terrified. I needed to protect her from this invasive torturer. I had no idea what kind of trick the demon was trying to pull, but I wouldn’t fall for it so easily.
Together with Byron and Xander, I pushed one last time. Emotions burned through me, my own, but also theirs. Anger, fear, love, need, determination—our pasts, our memories, our wishes, our hopes, our very souls—everything was mine to use. I turned our feelings into weapons and directed them at the shadowy demon. It didn’t have a chance. With one last, inarticulate cry, it dissipated into the ether.
The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but still, by the time I returned to my body, I felt like I’d aged five years. I was exhausted, my soul bruised and battered.
Never had I been more aware of just how badly I’d failed.
As an Omega, I should have seen this coming. But even when I’d realized Imogen’s situation was dangerous, it hadn’t occurred to me that Daimon’s hold on her was so strong. She had resisted him when he’d come from her. In her own way, she had fought him off. I’d thought that meant his power over her was limited. Clearly, I’d been mistaken.
The air in the bedroom cleared. Xander coughed, expelling smoke from his lungs. Byron shook his head, as if trying to chase away his dizziness. Even if they’d been further away from her when the demon had come out, they’d taken more damage than I had. My half-breed nature had protected me. It didn’t make me feel any better.
“What the fuck, Ulysses?” Xander croaked out. “What was that?”
“I wish I knew,” I said, leaning over Imogen to check up on her. She was alive and physically unharmed, but she was unconscious. “My best guess is that Daimon has her under some kind of binding spell.”
“And us trying to claim her triggered it?” Byron asked. “If that’s the case, it’s no wonder that he didn’t really push. He must realize that our hands are tied and we can’t keep her from him.”
I refused to accept that. Any spell could be undone. We just had to find the right method. Just like vampyr wards, demonic magic had weaknesses. I hadn’t been able to find the hooks in my lover’s mind, but that didn’t mean I’d abandon all hope.
“We can fix this,” I said. “We must. Her powers make things complicated, but we’ll find a solution.”
Byron opened his mouth, perhaps intending to point out that empty bravado wouldn’t help us right now. Before he could speak, Imogen started to stir. “Ugh… What happened?”
“You were attacked by a demonic spell,” I replied. “How do you feel?”
Imogen blinked at me in confusion and got up on her haunches. “Like I was attacked by a demonic spell. Was someone else harmed? I don’t…” She rubbed her temples, her hands trembling slightly. “I don’t remember what I did.”
“You lost control of your power,” Xander replied. “Imogen, I think we’re running out of time. We didn’t want to force yo
u to talk about a traumatic experience, but it can’t be helped, not anymore.”
Well, it looked like we were finally addressing the proverbial elephant in the room. I was glad Xander had brought up the topic. If he hadn’t, I’d have been forced to do it in his stead.
“What do you mean?” Imogen asked shakily. “What am I supposed to do?”
“When you were attacked, you told us you were bitten by a vampire,” Byron said, threading his fingers through hers. “For some time, we believed you were manifesting some kind of thrall or shadow magic. But that’s not what happened. You don’t have a thrall, Genny, and your body is alive. You’re not undead, half-way or otherwise. Whatever happened to you gave you demonic magic.”
“But… But that’s not possible. Why would Daimon want to do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, lovely,” I offered, gently brushing my fingers over her forehead. She was so beautiful and at that moment, I hated the world a little more for forcing her to suffer through such a terrible thing. “I think it must have been a side effect of the ritual. It’s not possible for you to turn into a demon, of course. You’re a human and only vampires can change that. But I’ve heard demons can share their magic with others.”
“Or maybe something happened when I interfered,” Byron mused. “He didn’t finish casting the spell, so some of the energies may have seeped into you.”
“Like radiation,” Imogen whispered. “That makes a lot of sense. I don’t feel any different, but it’s true that I’ve been doing things I wasn’t capable of before. How are we supposed to handle this now?”
She was taking this far better than I’d expected and she was calmer than I’d thought she would be, considering she’d just been mind-raped by Daimon Rossi. But that wasn’t something we could rely on. She was probably in shock.
I wrapped my arms around her, subtly using my Omega abilities to reassure her. She relaxed against me and the fist clenching around my heart loosened. I’d been worried that any touch of demonic power—even mine—might trigger her, but fortunately, my skills were too different from Daimon’s for her to be scared of them.
“The best solution might be to go to the witches’ coven and ask them for help. Mother Dora would know what to do. She has far more experience with such things than I ever will and she might be able to show us how you can protect your mind.” If nothing else, she could definitely tell us what kind of binding spell Daimon had cast on Imogen.
“Do you really think so?” Imogen asked. “Then why didn’t we try it before?”
Xander let out a sigh. “To be honest, Genny, it’s complicated. Witches are neutral and they don’t really like to get involved in direct confrontations. When we fight demons or undead, they’ll show up to do damage control and make sure the forest and the ground don’t suffer. They’ll occasionally trade with us, since they don’t hunt themselves, and they’ve helped us secure our lair. But I can’t say I trust them to be our steadfast allies.”
Imogen grimaced. “I guess we have no choice right now. Either way, it’s better than nothing. I can’t stay like this. If I do, God only knows what’ll happen next time.”
She was right. In a way, we’d been lucky that she’d been attacked now, with us present. What if it had happened earlier, in the middle of the training session? I’d seen traces of Imogen’s demonic nature when she’d been fighting Sandra. What if Daimon’s curse had emerged then, triggered by their sparring?
Sandra was a strong fighter, but she was no match for demonic magic. She couldn’t have fought the creature off. It hadn’t been our physical strength that had helped us, but our bond with Imogen and our specific Alpha and Omega abilities. If not for that, the result would have been very different.
I had to be realistic, though. We couldn’t control and contain this ourselves. The witches were our only hope.
“Come on, then,” Xander said. “Let’s send Mother Dora a message and see when she has time to speak to us. Hopefully, it’ll be soon. In the meantime, we can figure out what we’ll offer the coven in exchange, to make sure they don’t back out or refuse us.”
He was smiling and his voice was steady, but I knew better than to believe he was as calm as he was trying to appear. Even if the witch coven did give us a hand, there was one thing we could not deny, one truth that would always haunt us.
We’d failed our soulmate. We’d been unable to protect her. We’d allowed our own bias to blind us to the truth, because we’d been too afraid to deal with the obvious.
For now, we’d managed to buy some time. Imogen was still with us, temporarily safe. But would that be enough? I didn’t know and it scared me.
Chapter Five
Daimon
“It’s confirmed then. The Popovic coven is moving to attack the Brooks pack.”
I eyed my underlings, waiting for their report. My horde had the largest intelligence network in the world, built over time since the days of the Roman Empire. Some of my contacts were demons, others human, or even undead. It had always paid off and it was especially useful today.
“We’ve received news that Roman Popovic has taken out several notable vampyr aristocrats,” Geneva explained. She was a younger demon in charge of compiling the information I received from my East European spies. “We don’t know the details, but we can only assume some kind of fight for the title of Blood Count took place. It didn’t stall him for too long.”
“It would appear Lord Popovic believes the soulmate summoning ritual may have weakened his brother, which led to him being vulnerable to the attack of the shifters,” Rolf offered, not bothering to hide the resentment in his voice. He was one of the many vampires who didn’t like the influence of the Popovic coven. Since he couldn’t do anything directly, he’d turned to me.
“Wonderful,” I muttered. “Oh, well. I suppose this was always going to happen.”
Roman was many things, but he wasn’t a fool. Besides, he’d been very close to his brother. Vladimir must have given him at least some of the details about his plan.
He couldn’t have mentioned my bride by name, since he hadn’t known her identity at the time. That was the only good thing about the whole debacle.
“Anything else to report?” I asked my spies.
Other than Geneva and Rolf, no one had any news. They shook their heads, some of them flinching. I ignored their terror. The information they’d given me so far had been useful, if insufficient, and I didn’t have the time or the desire to punish them for their inability to find more.
“Keep searching. I know Roman is a secretive asshole, but even the smallest detail can be helpful. Dismissed.”
My spies bowed and fled my office, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to get away from me. Emma sneered at their retreating backs. “My Lord, if I may… You are too generous with the vermin. They should be punished for being so disappointing.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, “but that would be counterproductive right now. Crippling one or two of them would be amusing, but it would also deprive me of a potential source of information. If I don’t see any significant progress the next time I summon them, I’ll deal with it accordingly.”
Emma knew better than to question me further. “Of course, My Lord. How would you like to proceed next?”
“For the moment, make sure the wards protecting the horde den are secure. I’m going to have to drop by the Brooks pack again.”
I hated the idea of cooperating with those filthy betrayers, but it was better than exposing my bride to Roman’s fury. I’d have preferred it if Roman could have destroyed those foul beasts for me, but some things were just more important than others. I had to secure my mate first and then make sure the shifters were out of the way.
Could I convince my bride her presence endangered the Brooks pack? Maybe. It was worth as shot. It might even allow me to sic Roman and the werewolves on one another, as I’d originally hoped.
Musing over my plan, I returned to the ritual room. Kade wasn’
t here and I wondered what he was up to now. He was still worried about the imminent conflict between us and the Popovic coven. I hoped he hadn’t decided to carve another tattoo into himself. I understood the necessity, but he needed someone to keep an eye on him when he did stuff like that.
Once I was done here, I’d go look for him. But my bride took precedence over my friend. And it had been so long since I’d seen her, held her, kissed her.
I still remembered how she’d come undone in my arms when we’d had sex. It might not have been in the real world, but it had happened anyway, and she’d wanted it. She’d wanted me. She’d been so sweet and wet, so willing and passionate.
One day, she would understand her response to me was completely normal. She’d stop fighting it. But until that day came, I had to keep her safe, from both Roman and all other threats—including a certain huntress.
Pushing the thought of Imogen Julius to the back of my mind, I started creating my ritual circle. It was easy. Fire and shadow bloomed at my fingertips, burning trails of white ash into the polished floor. I closed my eyes and thought about my bride, about the way she’d been the last time I’d seen her, afraid, but defiant, wanting to protect the pack who didn’t even realize who and what she was.
My mind traveled through time and space. The magical channel between her consciousness and mine was still open, although it took a little effort for me to slide into it without hurting her.
I opened my eyes again and found myself standing in a forest grove. My mate was there, together with those pesky werewolves who were never very far away from her. Xander Brooks was holding her hand, all the while speaking to a witch dressed in black. “As I said before, Mother Dora, this is a complex situation. We believe it stems from a curse, some kind of demonic binding spell that was cast on her.”
“I can understand why you’d think that,” Mother Dora replied, “but your mate is free of such enchantments.”
