Ellowyn Found: An MM Vampire Trilogy Omnibus Edition Books 1 - 3

by Kayleigh Sky

  Damnit.

  Jessa sat with Otto and didn’t look around again. Shame crawled around in Isaac’s belly because he’d let Rune wreck his life. Well, wreck probably wasn’t fair, but Isaac blamed him anyway. He’d been happy in Senera Castle with Jessa—wasn’t I?—though being there had smacked a lot of charity because Jessa didn’t need him anymore, not with Otto to feed from. And Rune’s voice had been in his head—not words at first—just a sound that was… sad. Calling to him. Isaac didn’t make that up, he knew it, so he’d followed him. Nobody but Jessa had ever really needed him before, and then Jessa didn’t need him at all. But Jessa wouldn’t have wanted him to go either and would probably have tried to talk him out of it, so taking off had made sense, but he’d only done it for Rune.

  His shame flared into a sick embarrassment over the spectacle he’d probably painted in hurling himself at Rune a few nights ago. But God, that kiss. It wasn’t the kiss of somebody who didn’t want him. It’s called sex, dummy.

  Well, screw him anyway. Isaac had his own life to live and a real job now.

  Startled at a touch on his hand, he swung his gaze sideways. Dot smiled and tightened her fingers on his. “It’ll be okay,” she mouthed. Of course, she didn’t know what was really wrong, but she didn’t have to. She liked him. Dummy. Forget about Rune.

  And a second later the chapel stilled as the service began. Of all the people who might have spoken on Marcus’s death, the king was the biggest surprise. But he rose and turned to face them. Elaborate braids decorated with seed pearls formed a knot on his head. He wore a black suit with a bright-white shirt and stood for a moment with his palm over his solar plexus. A moment after that, he swallowed, and a smile formed on his face.

  “I’ve known Marcus for fifteen years. We met at a town called Paso Robles where Marcus was working. This was only a year after the end of the war. The devastation was massive as most of you probably remember. Eating out wasn’t a pastime many people could afford, so I remember being surprised when we saw this out-of-the-way diner. There were only a couple people inside, and I found out later that was actually a busy night, and that those customers didn’t pay a cent for the food Marcus made them. The place was on its last leg. Structural damage and no income coming in. Marcus knew it couldn’t last, but he was hanging on to the last minute. And the food was unforgettable, simple though it was. Marcus didn’t work there before the Upheaval. He was a chef in a restaurant in Las Vegas but came out this way looking for his family. They hadn’t made it through the Upheaval, and he didn’t go back home. He found the diner and cooked free dinners for people. But as I said, it couldn’t last. So I made Marcus a deal. I’d arrange for renovations, safety upgrades, stock it, and continue his tradition if he’d work for me. He didn’t bat an eye. ‘I can tell you’re vampire of your word.’” The smile on Zev’s face grew, and he gazed across the chapel right into Isaac’s eyes. “Marcus knew people. That diner is still there, and if you need a meal, it’s still free. Marcus was a human of great character, and I will never forget him.”

  Isaac’s eyes blurred, and everything in front of him blended into a formless blob of colors. Dot wrapped her arm around him and pressed the side of her head to his. They sat that way through a few others who got up to talk. Isaac recognized Adalyn’s voice. “Well, I have something else to say about Marcus. Coulda been a great character, but he broke his word to me. He went first, and that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared it. “Well, I’m going to have something to say about that someday, you can bet your ass on that, Marcus James Callahan.”

  Gaspy laughs broke out. A vampire in the next pew whispered, “Humans.”

  Isaac sniffled and wiped his eyes. “One of the best.”

  The vampires stilled at his mumble but didn’t turn back. At the end of the service, they scuttled away, still without showing their faces. Sometimes they were no different than humans. They are humans, the doctor at Comity House used to tell them, reminding Isaac not to expect anything better from vampires and to treat them like everybody else.

  He stood, and Dot grabbed the pew in front of her and pushed to her feet. Dennis cocked his head toward the door, and Isaac nodded but stayed where he was. Dot disappeared in the crowd jerking its way to the front of the chapel. Otto and Jessa stood with the king. Isaac waited until Jessa glanced over, frowned, and jostled Otto, who followed Jessa’s stare to Isaac.

  Isaac bit his lip. He wanted what Jessa had. To lean his weight into somebody. To be somebody else’s place to lean.

  Otto bent, lips moving near Jessa’s ear, and Jessa turned and spoke. Then, with a nod, Otto headed down the aisle. When he reached Isaac, he grinned. “Time to buck up and face the consequences, kiddo.”

  6

  The Meet

  Rune was back in the motel room Uriah had gotten him. For most of the day, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The air blew in fits and gusts from the unit in the wall. Anger simmered underneath his skin. He had given up most of his life for what he was doing, and it burned in his gut that Isaac wasn’t on his side.

  The sun somehow managed to wiggle through the gaps in the curtain, and the room was hot and golden and lonely. He thrashed and kicked at the sheets. Was he wrong? God knows he never asked for any of this. His happiest times were at home in Senera Castle—sometimes lost in his studio, other times sitting beside the pool with Jessa and Mal.

  But that was for other people. Not for the prince who was supposed to be king.

  He burned sometimes to reclaim his throne, but that wasn’t why he did what he did. It wasn’t why he chased after the necklaces. It wasn’t why he wanted the treasure. After the Upheaval, his father had spat on what he wanted. Despised it with every human he’d hunted down and slaughtered. But Rune, who’d only wanted mercy and peace, had killed with him.

  He squeezed his eyes shut against the sun and the image of Qudim flailing at the edge of a portal that gaped like a necrotic pustule, his mouth open in a soundless scream.

  Rune had grabbed his arm, but Qudim had ripped out of his grip anyway, leaving only his ring clutched in Rune’s sweaty fist.

  Now Zev had the ring, a beautiful thing. That was what Rune longed for and wanted. Beauty. Art. Impossible colors in dull rock. Limber curves in hard glass. The pitch dark caverns and the luminescent cities had filled him with wonder, and the strange miracles that had formed from his hands had led him away from Qudim’s blood thirst.

  So he tossed and sweated until the sun slowly crawled away, then he got up and took a shower. After packing his things in his bag and setting it by the door, he left his room. It was quiet outside, maybe too hot for people to wander. That was good, but he still kept to the side streets. A few cars whistled past but didn’t slow. He entered The Hot Spot, a cramped, dark place with a few small lamps hanging from the ceiling that did nothing to chase away the shadows. Rune took a booth in the corner of the room, and a human woman approached.

  “Something cold for you?”

  He rubbed his throat. “I wouldn’t mind a beer.”

  “I don’t have anything on tap, but I can get you Corona, Coors, Budweiser…”

  Rune swallowed. “Corona.”

  “Anything to eat?”

  “Just a beer.”

  She went off, and he rubbed his face. The shake in his hands sent a shiver down his spine. Close. He was close now. All he had to do was get through this night and maybe he’d have the last necklace. Maybe he could tell Zev it was over.

  Could he go home? After everything he’d done? He’d lied to his family. Abandoned them and Isaac. How could he make that up?

  He clenched his hands, only relaxing his fingers when the woman returned with his beer and set it down with a smile. “Here you go, hon. I hope that hits the spot.”

  He forced a smile, and when she turned away, picked up his beer and took a long swallow. It rushed down his throat like snowmelt, and he breathed a sigh after he set the bottle down. The gray light outside slowly
darkened, and he frowned at the door. Nobody came in or out. The woman was the only human in the place, and the only one behind the bar. She was frayed and tough-skinned as though the sun had baked her dry. She glanced up when a customer a few booths down said, “‘Nother one.

  She wiped her hands off, strolled over, and picked up the vamp’s empty mug. “Go home.”

  “I don’t want your lip. Just get me another one. That’s your job.”

  Rune clenched his fists. Was he going to have to get up and slap the bastard down?

  “Yeah,” said the woman. “This is my place, my job, my life. Thing is, Roel, I’d love a family to go home to.”

  “That’s you,” the vamp muttered.

  “Oh, you’re feelin’ sorry for yourself, aren’t you? Gonna drink it all away. Fine. I won’t stop you, but seriously, go home after this one.”

  “Fuckin’ humans,” he grunted after her.

  But he didn’t follow her, and when she returned with his drink and gave him a pat on the shoulder, he didn’t complain.

  Rune lifted his bottle again and took another swallow. It didn’t go down with the same chill, but it still spread through him like a breeze from a fan. He wiped his sweaty forehead with the side of his wrist, unease stirring in his belly while he finished the beer and set down the empty bottle. Only four people kept him company, the mouthy vamp in the other booth and three others sitting separately at the square tables that took up most of the space. The walls were plain paneled wood, unadorned except for a pockmarked dartboard. The place was quiet, only occasional mutterings breaking the silence. Rune eased back into the shadow between the corner of the booth and the wall and twisted sideways. He fixed his gritty eyes on the door. The last of the light seeped away from the windows. After a few more minutes, he picked up his bottle and strode to the bar. He bent his head, letting his hair fall forward, and gazed at the woman from under his brows. She sat on a stool, playing solitaire on the work surface below the counter. She stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Another one?”

  He shook his head. “I was supposed to meet somebody here. A vampire.”

  She smiled. “Most of my customers are.”

  “I think he’s an occasional visitor who travels.”

  She raised one shoulder in half a shrug and blew out a breath as her smile widened. “This is a quiet place.”

  “Yours?”

  She nodded.

  So she probably knew how to keep her business open in a town full of vampires. He raised his head and let his hair fall away from his face.

  “You’d have noticed him.”

  “I did,” she said. “But he didn’t stay.”

  “Why did he leave?”

  “His friends met him.”

  “Where did they go?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “How long ago?”

  “A few minutes before you came in.”

  With a nod, Rune pushed away from the counter.

  “Another one?”

  “I have to go,” he said. “You have a nice place.”

  She smiled again. “Thank you. Please come back.”

  “I’ll try.”

  After he left a ten dollar bill on the table, he strode across the floor and out the front door. Traffic whispered a block away. Stars dusted the sky, some bright, some dull, and a few street lamps glowed above the rooftops. Rune headed away from the light. A heavy quiet enveloped him, and he stepped noiselessly, his chest barely rising with his breath, letting the faintest of sounds drift to him.

  The old stories of vampires who shape-changed, flied, and bedazzled or charmed humans had only been humorous myths until he’d dimmed. Rumors of a royal necklace in Comity had reached him over a decade ago. By the time he’d discovered the vampire who’d had it, it had disappeared with a human whore. Uriah had found no trace of her until another vampire had given him the name of the human’s brother, and Uriah had followed her from her brother’s house. When it had become clear she was meeting a customer, Uriah had contacted Rune.

  The urgency that had swept over Rune that day hadn’t made sense to him, but it had plunged him into a dizzy spiral. For the first time, he’d dimmed but was still too late to save the whore.

  Cthonic dimming.

  That was what an old vampire had called it at a pub he and Uriah had gone to for dinner years later. The old vamp had played tricks with a set of stones at the next table while they ate, and when Uriah had bought him a drink for the show and asked where he’d learned his tricks, the vampire had regaled them with tales of his great grandfather, a non-Nezzarram witch, who “turned into steam. Not many of us do that anymore.”

  Uriah had chuckled. “Or ever.”

  “Oh, it’s a real thing,” the old vampire had said. “Cthonic dimming. We Ellowyn have all kinds of secrets.”

  Dim was a strange word for it. When it happened to other vampires, it was a trick of the light, but to Rune, it was a storm through his body, whipping through him like a sand devil, and some days he feared he’d return to a husk as dry and thin as parchment. A shell without a spirit.

  He had other powers too. A brush of his finger wiped memories away. Recent ones and only of himself. But he had strange abilities nobody had told him about and that had come from nowhere. They filled him with unease—like the powers of sorcery—and he was afraid of them.

  But he used them, and he made no sound now as he traveled.

  Walls muffled murmurs and mutterings inside the houses. Tires hissed against brakes. Metal popped and cracked as it cooled in the night. A cry broke above the other sounds and collapsed into a gurgle. Rune followed its dying vibrations. He slid through cracks in the walls, gaps in the windows, down alleyways and between parked cars until he slipped into a windowless office building. The back of it had collapsed years ago, probably during the Upheaval, but it still had a roof and the front wall. He took form again in a lobby and threw an arm to a counter to steady himself. His head swam. God-awful desert. It was still hot. A picture of Senera Lake flashed in front of him—still, black, and cold. He swallowed in a dry throat and pushed away from the counter.

  A rattle, like paper clattering across cement, came from above. He searched the dark space and settled his gaze on a shadow that formed an angle on the wall opposite the counter. When he reached it, he found an empty space where the bottom steps had been crushed in the collapse of the back wall. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, but his body stayed stubbornly solid. He took a breath, hopped onto the stairs, and exhaled when they held.

  Halfway up, he stumbled back a step at a scream that ripped the air, high-pitched and mortal. A vampire.

  He raced upward.

  7

  A Friend’s Advice

  The stuffy air in the kitchen clogged Isaac’s head. Too many people coming and going, dropping off dishes, bags, and boxes. Isaac glanced at the door, but the hallway was quiet now.

  “What are you looking for?” Dot raised her gaze from the trays of tarts aligned on the table.

  He tore his attention away from the door. Consequences? “Nothing.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What are these?”

  “Moon lace tarts,” Isaac said. “We’ve had them here before.”

  “Maybe you have. I’ve never seen them. They’re green.”

  “They’re made from ferns.”

  Dot tipped her head back and grimaced at the ceiling. “That’s gross. I doubt even Will would eat them.”

  “Will eats anything,” he muttered, staring back at the door from under his brows. “I hear they’re pretty good though.”

  “Do we serve them just like that?”

  He shrugged. “We can. Or I can make ice cream.”

  Dot surveyed the food displayed on the tables. “I guess we don’t need it. There’s a lot here. All of it weird,” she added.

  He snorted. “You’d think you’d never worked here before. They’re vampires.”

  “Well, Marcus was human.”
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  The sound of Marcus’s name still hurt like a fist to the solar plexus. Isaac struggled with his breath. The aromas of the various dishes filled his lungs. Vampire dishes. He exhaled. “Ice cream. We’ll make Marcus’s recipe.”

  Marcus had taught him to add a touch of cardamom to the vanilla custard mix. “Just a touch. So people wonder. Plus, it is a bit expensive nowadays.”

  Isaac had taken a tiny pinch from the jar.

  “Well…” Marcus chuckled at the wispy dust that drifted to the surface of the ice cream mix. “Maybe a touch more. Be brave.”

  Be brave. So why was Isaac hiding in here?

  Well, it didn’t matter because now he had ice cream to make. He took a bowl from the rack overhead, set a pot on the stove, and whipped together cream, milk, sugar, and a touch of salt. His eyes strayed to the door, but no one entered. Dot got to work moving the food to the trays they’d brought from the pantry. Isaac split a vanilla bean from top to bottom, scraped out the seeds, and added both the seeds and pod to the cream mixture. After a few minutes on the stove, he removed the pot from the heat and whisked the eggs and more sugar, adding it gradually to the pot and bringing up the heat again. At a noise behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, heart in his throat. But it was only Will, curving around the table to peck Dot on the cheek before scurrying to the stove.

  “Hey, Cute Isaac, whachya got going?”

  He meant nothing by the nickname anymore, not since Dot had decided he wasn’t all that bad. And truthfully, he wasn’t. He’d been silly and pesky since Marcus’s death, trying to take some of the edge of grief off for everybody. It didn’t matter he couldn’t. His heart was in the right place.

  “Ice cream,” said Isaac.

  “Oh cool.”

  “To go with the moon lace tarts.”

  “Not so cool. Got something for me to do?”

  Dot sprinkled olives from a container into a glass bowl and motioned to the table with her chin. “You can take some of these platters to the dining room.”