by Tessa Dawn
It is long overdue, and I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with it anymore—which is why I have an additional favor to ask of you.
‘Ask?’ Kagen sounded surprised.
Marquis sighed telepathically. Yes...ask...unless and until you say no, of course. There was no hint of humor in his voice...because he meant none.
Kagen laughed anyway, although his laughter sounded primitive, both amused and irritated. But then, that was Kagen: the kindest and the meanest of the Silivasi brothers at the same time. Luckily for the rest of them, the easy-going persona took up ninety-five percent of his character; however, when that five percent came out, even Marquis knew enough to clear a path...although not because he feared him. Marquis feared absolutely no one and nothing—save, perhaps, Napolean Mondragon—but when Kagen got that damn-mean, it just wasn’t worth all the energy it took to try and calm him down.
I’m listening, Kagen drawled, Mr. Nice Guy spilling over.
I want you to keep Kristina for the next week or so. I don’t want her staying anyplace where Dirk might find her, and if for some reason, he does happen to track her to the clinic, then you are to…take care of him…for me, long before he gets anywhere near her. No human involvement.
I have no problems with Kristina—or handling Dirk—I’ll keep her.
Good. Be well, then, Kagen.
And you as well, my brother.
Marquis looked across his desk at Chad, who was still waiting patiently for his boss’s directions. “I’m going to take Kristina to the health center, where she’ll be staying for a few days.”
Kristina looked up, startled. Her eyes grew wide, and her face hardened like stone. If there was any doubt that Marquis meant to kill Dirk, it was gone now. She was being placed under the supervision of a Master vampire until her boyfriend was in the ground. By the look on her face, she knew it was final. The situation had been removed from human hands.
“Absolutely no one is to know where she is,” Marquis admonished, staring at Chad. “And the moment you see Dirk, you call me. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, boss.”
“Good.”
Kristina dropped her face in her quivering hands, defeated.
It was dark when Marquis pulled his H3T Hummer onto the private dirt road that led to Kagen’s health clinic and private residence. The graphite metallic truck—with its eighteen-inch chrome wheels and ebony leather seats, encased with cashmere inserts—made easy work of the rough terrain, and it took them less than ten minutes to pull into the front lot of the clinic once they made the final turn.
Kagen Silivasi was a true loner—preferring to live as far back into the mountain as possible. The high-tech clinic was virtually hidden within a dense forest of pine and spruce trees, anchored into the base of a steep mountain. Kagen’s own personal residence was about one mile west of the center, also built half-in, half-out of the steep, rocky crevice.
Both properties were accessed by a single dirt parking-lot that bordered the southern branch of the winding Snake River. To get to either one, visitors had to go forward on foot, crossing an archaic stone bridge that arched across the deepest branch of the white-water tributary; then follow a steep, inclining path that finally took them to the structures. In the event of a severely injured patient, there were stretchers and wheelchairs available, but the difficult environment served a purpose: Vampires could materialize, and humans weren’t welcome.
Like every other structure in the house of Jadon, the clinic was on private property. With human hunting societies, Dark Ones, and lycans always posing a threat, it was important that the community remain well-hidden.
Marquis parked the Hummer just to the right of the bridge and got out of the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition. He never worried about such things; after all, gods help the soul who decided to steal from him. Although...it might make interesting sport: fun to track, easy to dispose of. He opened Kristina’s door and waited while she slowly climbed out of the vehicle, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying.
Marquis frowned. He was good with his fists and his guns—and his trident, stilettos, and sling—but words were simply not his forte, which was ironic considering he spoke twenty-one languages.
“Do you need a minute before we go in?” he asked. It was all he could think of.
Kristina looked up at him, incredulous. “What difference would that make?”
“None at all,” Marquis answered factually.
“Well, why not take one then,” Kristina quipped sarcastically. She crossed her arms in defiance and leaned back against the graphite, metallic truck, wincing from the pain of moving her battered muscles. And then she stared straight ahead at the bridge as if it were the final walkway to the gallows—the last journey of a condemned woman. She said nothing, so Marquis peered into her mind...
It was more or less blank. She was listening to the roaring sound of the rushing water, trying her best not to think or feel anything.
Marquis crossed his heavily muscled arms and leaned back against the truck next to her; he figured he’d give this whole reflective-silence thing about three minutes, and then he was taking her inside.
As the two of them stood side-by-side, waiting for time to slowly tick by, the air around them began to fill with strange electricity. The night suddenly became eerily dark, almost as if someone had turned out a light in the sky. Instinctively, they both looked up, and their mouths dropped open in unison.
The sky above them was transforming. From a clear, solid blue to a deep, infinite black. It was as if the moon and the stars had simply burned out—as if light no longer existed—and then, just as unexpectedly, the celestial lights began to come back on. One after the other, the most brilliant, iridescent stars shone in the sky like a thousand torches in the hands of the gods. The heavens were positively...and unequivocally...breathtaking.
And then the moon reappeared, shifting along its lunar path, dipping down until it hovered behind the stars, beaming like a spotlight trained on the most magnificent constellation. The spotlight began to change color. From grayish white, to pinkish rose, to a deepening shade of wine...until it finally emerged the color of fresh blood.
A crimson moon beckoned in a backlit sky, shining its haunting light on a single constellation.
Draco...the Dragon.
If Marquis had not been leaning against his truck, he would have fallen over. Awestruck by the incredible sight. Fascinated by its beauty. Stunned by its meaning.
After fifteen-hundred years—living alone, walking alone, sleeping alone...existing alone—he had all but given up on the idea that the gods even remembered who he was. Yet now, his princess had awakened after so many centuries, and in the blink of an eye, they had rediscovered a love beyond the confines of this world.
Marquis drew in a deep breath and almost...smiled.
He had to get back to Ciopori right away. He had already explained the Blood Curse to her, but he had failed to tell her his own constellation. She would be thrilled to know that the gods had blessed them—that they had made it possible for them to truly be together.
Marquis ran his hands through his thick raven hair and looked at Kristina. “We need to get you inside right away; there is someplace else that I need to be.”
Kristina’s deep blue eyes blinked several times, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. She looked up at the sky, over at Marquis, and then back at the sky a second time.
And then she repeated the whole process again.
She nodded quickly, tucked her injured arm behind her back, and began walking at a strange angle so that she continued to face him even as she attempted to walk beside him.
Halfway over the stone bridge, Marquis stopped. Cold spray from the rushing river misted his face. “Why are you walking like that?” he asked—straight to the point as usual.
Kristina shook her head way too rapidly. “Oh...was I? I didn’t realize. Yeah...I think my injuries are just...yeah. I didn’t realize that I w
as...walking strange.”
Marquis frowned. He noticed that her left arm was still tucked behind her back—the arm Dirk had burned with a cigarette. “Is that burn still causing you pain?”
Kristina visibly trembled. “No, not anymore...I mean…yeah, but not if I hold it like this.” She tried to smile. The warmth didn’t reach her eyes.
Marquis took a step back then. There was a pungent odor in the air. One he had never scented around Kristina before: fear. More specifically, fear of him.
He wrinkled his forehead. “What is wrong with you?”
Kristina shook her head and looked toward the clinic. “The pain is just…we should hurry and get inside so you can go on and get to...wherever you need to be.”
Marquis’s stomach lurched. All at once, a powerful sense of dread swept over him. “Show me your arm, Kristina.”
Kristina showed him her right arm.
“The other one,” he barked, holding his breath.
Kristina blanched and took a step back.
Marquis heart did a back-flip in his chest. “Kristina, you will show me your left arm now.” He pitched his voice an octave lower, the tone as smooth as velvet, making the command impossible to refuse.
Like a puppet on a string, Kristina’s left arm came out from behind her back and dangled in front of him as if he were working her limbs from above.
Marquis took one glance and staggered back, catching himself against the solid stone railing. His head spun in circles like he had just stepped off a carnival ride.
It was right there in front of him. As clear as the sky. Every marking, every line, every unmistakable contour—creating one inevitable image: on Kristina Riley’s inner wrist. Draco, the Dragon. Marquis’s own birth constellation.
The woman was terrified now, and frankly, Marquis could not have cared less. His mind was in a free-fall, as if he had just been in a terrible accident and was still trying to regain his equilibrium, figure out where he was—what had just happened—whether or not he was going to survive.
Marquis shook his head adamantly. “No, this is not possible.” He looked at Kristina’s arm again, and then he stared into her petrified eyes. “Do you know what this means?”
The petite redhead croaked out an incoherent sound.
Marquis spun around and stared at the river, his powerful hands closing into two hard fists...
And then just like that, an iron gate closed in his mind.
It closed in his heart, shut out all thought, and locked out emotion. It allowed only instinct and obedience. He couldn’t afford anything else right now.
Marquis looked up at the sky, then at the parking lot behind them, and finally, at the shadows among the trees. “It is not safe for you to be outside anymore, Kristina.” His voice was monotone.
The skinny red-head visibly wilted, too afraid to speak.
Just then, Kagen Silivasi shimmered into view, standing on the bridge directly in front of them. His glorious dark brown hair rustled in the wind like fine spun silk. His commanding brown eyes, with their unusual silver reflections of light, stared straight through the Ancient Master Warrior with wonder and concern. As he took a step forward, Kagen’s muscles shifted like the powerful haunches of a black panther stalking toward prey. It was the signature walk of a male vampire. “My brother…” His raspy voice trailed off.
Marquis met the healer’s gaze but said nothing.
Kagen looked up at the moon then. “I just saw the sky.”
Marquis’s mouth was set in a hard line as he refused to respond.
Kagen looked completely taken aback. “It’s Draco.”
“I know this!”
Kagen frowned. “Who is she, Marquis? Do you know yet? Do you think the princess—”
Marquis held up his hand and just shook his head.
Kagen looked at Kristina then...and all the pieces fell into place. There was a moment of stunned silence while the three of them stood on the bridge, desperately trying to process the enormous turn of events.
Finally, Kagen spoke to Marquis telepathically, his worry readily apparent. My brother, are you okay?
Marquis scowled then. You and Nachari—you both ask such inconsequential questions!
Kagen didn’t respond to the derisive remark. More than likely, he understood.
All of Marquis’s brothers understood him—even if they didn’t always appreciate his personality—and they were smart enough to know when to back off, that there was nothing they could do when he didn’t want their help. Marquis prayed Kagen would just leave it alone.
Kagen turned to Kristina then. “Welcome...little sister...it is nice to see you again; we need to get you inside so we can attend to your wounds.”
Kristina looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she slowly nodded and began to follow Kagen inside.
“I’ll be there in a while,” Marquis whispered.
Kagen stopped walking then. He squared his shoulders to Marquis and just glared at him...speechless.
Though it was very poor manners—if not downright disrespectful—Marquis didn’t have the time…or the ability…to deal with Kagen’s confusion right now. Desperate to head any inquiry off at the pass, he delved into his brother’s thoughts, hoping to put the healer’s concerns to rest before an uncomfortable conversation ensued.
Kagen was thinking about the one—and only—opportunity a male vampire had in a lifetime to start a family. To find a mate. To atone for the sins of his forefathers and once and for all live free of the Curse. Following the Blood Moon, a male had only thirty days to secure his female...to live or die...and consequently, the territorial instincts of a male who had just discovered his destiny were as powerful as they were overwhelming. It was simply unheard of for such a male to leave the female’s side so soon after the Omen. And as for leaving her alone in an enclosed space with another male? Whether that male was a friend or a brother, it just wasn’t done.
Ever.
As far as Kagen was concerned, Marquis should have been edgy, defensive, and overbearing right now. If anything, he expected Marquis to shackle his destiny to his wrist, to drag her indoors, cursing and fighting every step of the way, especially considering the warrior’s complete lack of tact. Kagen knew something was wrong.
Terribly...terribly...wrong.
And because it was such a volatile time, he was worried to death about his eldest brother.
Do not waste your energy concerning yourself with such things, Kagen, Marquis advised. Please, just take my destiny inside and see to her wounds. I will be there shortly: I promise.
Kagen looked surprised, and then he nodded. Very well, Marquis…but hear this: You are the most honored amongst our family, and I understand that this is a very pivotal…and difficult…night for you. And I also know that you have a habit of checking up on all of your brothers by brushing our minds from time to time. That is simply your way, and we all accept it. However, should you ever retrieve my thoughts again without my permission, you and I will have a very serious problem.
Marquis snorted and frowned. Kagen was right, of course. Etiquette amongst the males in the house of Jadon was paramount. Sacred.
Oh well, his silence was the only acknowledgment Kagen was going to get and as close to an apology as Marquis would go.
Understanding, Kagen turned to Kristina and gestured toward the clinic. “Shall we?”
As they began to walk away, Kristina looked over her shoulder at Marquis, her deep blue eyes wide with shock. When their gazes finally met, a deep sorrow passed between them.
Marquis quickly looked away. This was all wrong. This was all so absolutely, positively...inexcusably...wrong!
After all this time—serving his people honorably, living for his brothers, enduring century after century alone; after watching his beloved mother, Serena, die; his best friend and father, Keitaro, disappear; and the joy of his heart—his youngest brother, Shelby—slain by the Blood Curse; this was simply...
Wrong.
&
nbsp; And it was cruel.
In his mind’s eye, he saw the princess in her beautiful summer dress. He heard her infectious laughter and remembered the tantalizing sway of her hips—the way that she looked at him with so much love in her eyes—and his heart wept at the enormity of what the gods had just done. Why now? Why to him?
Marquis watched as Kagen and Kristina made their way up the path toward the clinic, and he couldn’t help but think…for just one day...
Out of hundreds of thousands...
He had actually been—happy.
four
Ciopori spun around on the back terrace of Napolean’s majestic home, marveling at the beauty of the sky. As one of the original Celestial Beings, observing such an event was the equivalent of witnessing a miracle, a rare blessing bestowed upon them by the divine god, Draco, and her emotions varied from reverence to awe...to disbelief. Despite their ultimate extermination, the females of her race had once been very powerful, indeed. Powerful enough to fashion a curse that was still carried out by the gods twenty-eight hundred years later.
A soft breeze blew through her hair, rustling a wall of towering aspens that flanked the back porch, and Ciopori closed her eyes, taking in the magic of the moment. Her last memories, before Marquis had found her, had been of a dark ship taking port in a strange land, her brothers being left behind in the Old World, her culture being decimated...her life forever changed. When Fabian placed the two remaining females under the spell, Ciopori knew she would awaken to a completely different life, but in her wildest dreams, she could have never imagined this. She could never have imagined Marquis.
The warrior from her dreams had been real all along. And he had found her.
Ciopori felt a chill shoot up her spine, even as goose bumps appeared on her arms. Marquis was such a proud and sure warrior, a leader by both nature and birth, as passionate as he was intense...the celestial epitome of a wild animal. Yet there was a rare, indefinable beauty beneath his harsh exterior, a spiritual quality that hinted of something much deeper. He had a soul that had been honed through fire, a wisdom that had been refined through experience, a strength that was deeply anchored in primordial law, and yes, a love for his brothers that surpassed all else. A love that now included her.
