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

by Kayleigh Sky

  With a weird, wild strength, he gripped Rune’s arm and bit, sucking his blood. The shock of it jolted him, but he held still and let Thomas drink. One swallow, two…

  Rune screamed.

  Fire raced up his arm and exploded in his chest. He wrenched away and a smaller, familiar pain marked the tearing of his flesh and vein.

  But that was normal. Welcome.

  The other pain—it seared him from inside, pumping through him with every beat of his heart. Spurting out of him with his breath and sweat. He staggered up and spun in a dizzy circle, looking for an exit from the flames and the acid surging through him. The windows wavered in his vision. Gasping, he stumbled toward the pale rectangles. His arm bounced against his leg. He lifted it. Blood welled and spilled from the dark holes in his skin.

  Never take it off.

  He swayed in the middle of the room.

  Never take what off? The rivulets thickened into streams and then rivers. He poured blood, and it pooled on the floor and covered his boots. He let it flow. Every lost drop cleansed him of whatever Thomas had exchanged with him.

  A few minutes later, the blood seeped through the cracks in the floor and disappeared. Had that been real?

  His head lolled, and his chin fell on his chest. He staggered in a half circle, forced his eyes wider, and stared from beneath his brows at Thomas’s supine form.

  Weariness washed over him, and he dropped to his knees at Thomas’s side again. “The necklace, Thomas. Where is it?”

  His voice faded. If that was what Thomas had for him. If it wasn’t…

  Without the necklace…

  No home. No Isaac. His heart refused to believe what his common sense told him over and over. Losing the necklace meant starting over, coming from behind to get ahead of the Adi ’el Lumi, and he was tired. Cursed by the blood on his hands. In his veins.

  Fingers dug into his arm. He startled and gasped. “Thomas?”

  Thomas gurgled. His fingers spasmed, and his arm jerked as he sliced a hand through the air, hit his other arm, and jerked back. One finger pointed downward. Rune followed the trajectory to the space between Thomas’s shoes. Beyond was a floor littered with broken ceiling panels, shards of glass, paper, and bits of metal. On the far wall, a few sections of paneling remained. Rune struggled up and staggered over. He ran his fingers along the edge of one of the panels. It separated from the wall in places. He glanced back at Thomas and his still-pointing finger, got a grip in one of gaps and yanked the panel free. It splintered and fell in pieces on the floor. There was nothing in the wall behind it. No safe and nothing stuck to the paneling itself. He pulled off the remaining panels and still found nothing.

  “Fuck!”

  His voice rolled back at him, and his stomach knotted and twisted. Pain speared through his spine. Poison. Was this how the murdered vampires had died?

  He turned and went to his knees at Thomas’s side again. The vampire still pointed. Confused, Rune stared down the length of Thomas’s pants to his—

  A cough pulled his attention away. Blood bubbled from the vampire’s mouth. Rune groaned and cupped his face. “There’s no hospital in Baggins, Thomas. I can’t save you.”

  The seep of Thomas’s breath carried a whisper. “Map…”

  A map? “Where?”

  But Thomas said nothing else, only jerked his arm. Again, Rune gazed down the length of Thomas’s body to his feet. Now broken paneling joined the detritus beyond Thomas’s shoes.

  Shoes.

  Rune jerked his gaze back to Thomas’s eyes. “Your shoes?”

  A sigh whispered past his lips.

  Rune scooted down his legs, unlaced the shoe on his right foot, and eased it off. He wore a sock caked with sweat and dirt. Rune peeled that off too. Nothing. He pulled the tongue on the shoe wide and shoved his fingers inside. The muggy interior coated his fingers with heat. He met nothing until he brushed the lining and dragged his fingertips over a rough surface. After scraping at it with a nail, he peeled it loose and extracted it. Parchment. Thick and dark. He climbed to his feet and took it to a window where his eyes absorbed the ambient light. There were scratch marks and the shape of words.

  “Aba… di…”

  He spun. Thomas lay still, and Rune hurried over. Thomas’s mouth hung open, his eyes frozen in slits. “Thomas.” But he was dead. Dead with a witch’s name on his tongue.

  Rune crouched down, the scrap of parchment in his fingers. He cupped Thomas’s face with his other hand and groaned. Why?

  “Why did you say my mother’s name?”

  9

  The Contract

  Anin waited at the door. Across from him was Ray, one of the other enforcers. Nobody had taken Justin’s butler position, but Anin was now Zev’s personal aide. That had been another blow to Isaac. Not that he’d been close to Justin, but in a way, he’d worked for him. Justin had hired him when Isaac had shown up out of the blue with Asa, which meant everything he had now could be traced back to Justin’s decision. The king’s butler had been a cool and taciturn boss, and a stereotypical vampire, but not an assassin in Isaac’s eyes. At least, Justin’s face wasn’t what surfaced in his imagination when an assassin appeared in one of the books he was reading. Justin had looked like a personal servant. Anin didn’t.

  “Not a friend. A boyfriend.”

  Anin had a mix of tough and gentle on his face at the same time, and he carried a gun under his jacket. Obviously, Justin had fooled him though, so maybe he should be leery of Anin too, but he wasn’t. He was more unsure of Ray who wore no expression on his face. He was as blank as the proverbial undead vampire.

  Isaac smiled, and Anin smiled back, but wariness teased at the back of his eyes. He opened the door and tipped his head toward the room on the other side. “He’s expecting you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Anin nodded.

  The room was the study attached to the king’s bedroom, smaller than the one he used for formal meetings. Maybe that was good, except…

  Why was Otto here? He stood as Isaac entered and gestured to a seat beside him on the couch. The king sat in a chair angled toward the sofa. Wasn’t the memorial buffet in progress?

  Isaac sat sideways and smiled at the king. Facing Zeveriah put Otto behind him, and his neck heated as though Otto’s stare drilled into him.

  “Is something wrong, sir?”

  The king’s smile widened. “You always ask that, and it’s always no.”

  “I wasn’t in the kitchen. Well, I was. I was making ice cream the way Marcus liked it. I know I haven’t been much good at my job the past few days, and I know I’ve been saying I don’t want to do it anymore in case you heard that, but I guess I was upset and not thinking, because I want to keep my job. I really like it here and was helping Dot and decided ice cream would be good with the tarts and then…” He shot a glance behind him. “Jessa found me, and I wanted to explain something to him, and then I showed him the library because he really loves books… Romances,” he added.

  The smile on Zev’s face turned into a grin. “I’m glad you took some time for yourself.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Zev shifted, and his grin turned into a grimace. “I wanted to talk to you about something though. I have a question for you.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  “What do you know about donors under contract to Comity House?”

  Isaac’s breath left him without a sound. It simply vanished, his lungs empty. Chills ran over his skin, burned away in the heat that followed.

  Holy fuck—

  He hadn’t thought of that in… Over a year. Not since going to live with Jessa. But… Fuck, when did he sign it?

  Zev stared while Isaac worked to get enough spit to speak. He opened his mouth on silence. Closed it and swallowed. “They aren’t common.”

  “But they do exist? They’re legitimate?”

  Isaac nodded. “I had one.”

  “Did Jessa know?”

  Isaac swiveled a look at Otto.
“No. I didn’t even think of it. The contracts are just between donors and Mr. Wrythin.”

  “Comity House,” Zev said.

  Isaac frowned. Wasn’t that the same thing? “I don’t really remember. I signed it. I knew what was in it. And Mr. Wrythin signed it too. I saw him.”

  “As representative of Comity House. That’s a problem because Comity House still exists. Therefore, the contract is still in force.”

  Isaac swallowed again, throat dry, and clenched the hands he had clasped between his knees. He hadn’t run away from the contract. He’d only… well, forgotten about it. That’s what you get for running in the first place. But he hadn’t run—he’d gone to live with Jessa. Maybe he’d thought the Seneras had taken care of it. Or it wasn’t valid anymore with Mr. Wrythin gone or… Fuck, he didn’t know what he’d thought.

  His skin itched at his wrists and the inside of his elbows. He couldn’t go back to Comity House. His stomach knotted as though vampires were feeding on him right now, sinking their fangs in and whispering propositions in his ears.

  Zev sighed. “Earlier, the Wrythins came to speak to me. The younger son, Bronwen, has taken over the administration of the center, and he was the one who found the contract. A five-year contract signed slightly more than four years before you left.”

  “Why?” asked Otto. “Couldn’t you get a job without it?”

  “I got more. I got a bigger room and a guarantee of a place to live for five years. Without the contract maybe they’d let me go.”

  “I don’t think Wen fired people very often,” said Otto.

  “I didn’t know that. I was scared, I guess, and tired of not having a real place to live. Five years with a job in a center like Comity House would give me lots of experience and connections. I wanted to make sure I could take care of myself and not have to worry for a while. I did a good job and made sure people were happy with me. I don’t mind working. I just need a chance, and I got that for myself with the contract. I’m being honest that Mr. Wrythin didn’t offer it, but I heard I could get one from a guy I knew.”

  Understanding surfaced in Otto’s eyes. “Mateo?”

  “Yeah. Everybody knew Comity House was the best place to work. I thought it was a smart thing to do. I had no problems, and Mr. Wrythin was good to me. I just didn’t think of it after everything that happened, and I went to live with Jessa. I was still feeding him, so I guess it was kind of like I was still working. I wasn’t trying to get out of anything.”

  “This isn’t an accusation. Nobody can blame you,” said Zeveriah. “I wish this had never come up. I’m afraid I’m the one who’s to blame.”

  “Wen was no innocent,” said Otto, “and this Bronwen is just as squirrely. You’re under contract, Isaac. It’s legally binding.”

  Panic rushed through Isaac again, blowing all reason from his brain for a moment. He wanted to fling himself out of a window. He couldn’t go back. And after only a moment of having no rational thoughts in his brain, fury rushed in. Goddamn Rune for leaving him like this. You were supposed to want your fated love with all your heart. Bastard.

  “Isaac.”

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, weighing him down. He looked back at Otto. “I can’t,” he whispered.

  “You won’t.”

  “No,” Zev agreed. “I can promise you that.” Isaac turned back. “But I can’t ignore the contract either. Otto and I have come up with a solution. I’ve been in contact with Princess Esseline. She attended the coven meeting at the lodge. Do you remember her?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Not really. The name’s familiar.”

  He’d spent most of the time in the kitchen, and the rest of the time trying to avoid Otto and having to explain why he’d run away from Senera Castle.

  “Essie is a member of the Orla family. Staunch supporters of mine. She is old and venerable and commands absolute respect. I have asked her to purchase the time remaining on your contract, and she has agreed.”

  Isaac sat straighter. “So I won’t have to go?”

  Zev opened his mouth then took a breath. “Not to Comity House, no. The Wrythins will not deny her. As a lower family, they can’t afford such a show of disrespect. They will agree, but what we’re doing here can’t merely be for show. You won’t have to feed anyone, but you can’t stay here.”

  “Where will I go?”

  “To Essie’s.”

  Well, this was fucking typical. The minute he decided he wanted to stay, he had to go. He sank back into the sofa. Otto sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “It’s not for long. Jessa can visit.”

  “I like it here though.”

  Zev’s smile softened his face. “You belong with us. I want you to return. You’ll always be welcome here.”

  Isaac stared at his hands, still clasped between his legs. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’ll leave tomorrow. Anin and another of my enforcers will go with you, and Anin will stay.”

  Isaac looked up. “He will?”

  “At least until you feel settled and comfortable. You are my responsibility.” Zev smiled again. “A friend. As is Essie. But I don’t want you to feel alone, and you and Anin are friends too, correct?”

  Not friends.

  “Boyfriends,” Jessa had whispered.

  Would Rune know where Isaac had gone? Would he care?

  Come for me.

  “Yes sir. We’re friends.”

  “Good. Tomorrow then.”

  He stood, and Otto rose too and walked him to the door. Otto gave his arm a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Isaac nodded. “I know.”

  Like hell it is.

  The minute he stepped through the door into the dark hall a worse dark toppled over him. He was alone and homeless, his fated love didn’t want him, and no matter what Otto said, it wasn’t going to be okay. A sick feeling crept out of his belly into his throat, and he wanted to throw up, but like hell he was doing that either. Stop countin’ on somebody who isn’t gonna be there for you. Start countin’ on you.

  But, even as the words went through his head, a piece of his heart squeezed tight and sent an ache through his chest.

  10

  A Clue

  Rune sat on the cold concrete beside the body with his head in his hands. His breath rasped as it burned its way down his throat. Chills chased the hot blasts buffeting him. But nothing stirred, no gusts of desert air blowing past the broken glass.

  I have something your king wants.

  His throne, Thomas had said.

  But his throne was Zev’s and wrapped up in the treasure that was the key to destroying the Adi ’el Lumi. According to myth, God had gathered the treasure from Eden after the fall of Adam and Eve and had held it in trust for someone worthy of it. And that wasn’t the fucking Adi. It was Rune. He had to find that treasure to keep the peace with humans and bring honor to his family. He wanted only one thing—the keys to the treasure, which meant the map had to lead to the last necklace.

  Hauling in another breath, he dropped his hands and gazed at the body.

  Was this his fault? He’d been late to The Hot Spot, tossing in his bed all day, trying to escape the images of Isaac’s face running on a loop in his head. Whom didn’t he fail anymore?

  His stomach knotted again, twisting under his ribs.

  But for fuck’s sake, what was going on?

  He squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked.

  “Forgive me.”

  Getting onto his knees, he sat on his heels, pushed Thomas’s shirt off his torso, and unzipped his trousers. After he yanked them down, he viewed the body. The color of the mottled areas was lost in the dark, the spots only slightly darker shadows on the paler skin. Rune funneled his focus into his stare, and the discoloration flushed a dull rose. It followed a path from the throat to the belly and spread across the pelvis. He touched the still warm skin. It gave under his fingers, but thickened to a rigid shell under the discoloration. Strange.

  After working hi
s hands under the body, he rolled him over, and lifted the shirt up. The same discoloration appeared like a bloom over the lungs.

  He shifted his weight on his heels, opened his own shirt with shaky fingers, and gazed down at fair, hair-dusted skin. His sigh shuddered. Thank fuck.

  No discoloration, but something was wrong with him. The pain rolled through in waves. He took another deep breath, and a scent tickled his nostrils. Frowning, he bent lower, following the sweet, cloying aroma of—

  Synelix.

  Not strong, but it was unmistakable and reminded him of his hunger. And it was coming from Thomas’s mouth. So all that blood wasn’t his. Some of it was Synelix. And Thomas had drunk from Rune’s wrist and somehow passed it—poison—into Rune’s bloodstream. He rolled Thomas over again and recoiled. Blood welled in the eye sockets. In fact, the eyes were… gone, and blisters rose on the mottled areas.

  Uriah’s voice sounded in his head.

  “Some people are saying it’s Synelix… There were five more murders last month…

  And it was only a matter of time before no vampire would drink anything but real blood.

  Rune dug through the vampire’s pockets, dropping money, keys, and a few receipts onto the concrete. Nothing of importance. He yanked up the pants and grabbed the shoe he’d taken off him earlier when his gaze jerked to Thomas’s other shoe as though pulled there. The compulsion that had kept him in Baggins flooded through him again. The tension and pain of the poison had pushed it away, but now… alarms clamored inside him. He bit his lip, gazed at Thomas’s face, then scooted around to Thomas’s other side and removed the shoe. Again, his fumbling encountered something flat stuffed into the shoe’s toe, another piece of parchment maybe, but thicker. He worked it out, got up, and hurried to the window, grabbing onto the sill when another pain hit. As soon as it let up, he raised a card into the dim ambiance. It was crumpled and stained from Thomas’s foot, thick and rectangular like a playing card. The blood drained from his face, chilling him before rage flooded him with heat.