by Caris Roane
His heart hurt and his chest felt caved in. He gasped for breath he couldn’t find.
Willow.
No, please, no.
Surely the pain in his stomach would return any minute now and set him free from an entanglement he couldn’t afford.
Surely.
He waited a minute … five … then ten. But for the first time in two-hundred years, since he’d risen to mastyr status, he had no pain. And from the events of the past two years and from the first time he chased Willow through the woods, it all made sense now, especially his complete and utter obsession with her.
There could be no doubt; Willow was his Goddess-be-damned blood rose.
He roared the depth of his frustration, letting his loneliness, his anger at the evil forces in his realm, and his blood-needs rage into the air. He was only surprised that the entire forest didn’t catch fire with the depth of his distress.
When the last roar echoed down the hollows, he began coming back to himself.
Willow was a blood rose.
And nothing could change that.
The problem was that she could never be his blood rose.
He’d been in his recently built communication center and he’d read the exchanges of the bonded mastyrs, those who’d gone through exactly what he was experiencing, but who had also embraced their women. He knew the signs, especially the sudden release of centuries of terrible cramping in his stomach because only a blood rose could take that kind of pain away.
In his case, however, there were tough obstacles preventing him from ever bringing Willow fully into his life and he honestly didn’t see how they could be overcome. His own duties demanded all of his time, and he couldn’t be distracted by a woman. There was that. But worse, he’d played a terrible role in her father’s death, so how would Willow ever be able to forgive him for what he’d done?
He cringed inwardly. The memories flooded back of when her father held a sharp blade to the troll’s throat, threatening to kill him. Malik had tried to calm the grief-stricken husband down, but nothing could reach him. When the tall, fae professor sank the blade, cutting deep, he’d given Malik no choice; Malik had fired a single, powerful hand-blast straight into his head, killing him instantly.
The troll had almost died as a result of that cut.
Willow’s fae father had essentially chosen death-by-Guardsman rather than live without his half-wraith, half-fae wife, leaving Willow orphaned.
And now the woman whose father he’d killed was his blood rose.
What a fucking nightmare.
Just when he was ready to release another set of roars, his phone rang. Pulling his cell from the pocket of his leathers, he was surprised to see that his housekeeper, Francesca, was calling him.
And she never called.
Sweet Goddess, what now?
“Francesca? What gives?”
“I am so sorry to bother you, Mastyr, but Davido is in your living room asking for you.”
“Davido? The ancient troll who lives in Merhaine Realm?”
“Yes, that would be him. Davido the Wise. And he’s pacing.”
“He’s pacing?” Malik tried to recall if he’d ever seen Davido pace.
“He seems sorely distressed, Mastyr, and can’t raise you telepathically. He says he needs to speak to you at once.”
At once. Holy shit. He glanced around. He’d flown two-hundred miles and was a helluva long way from his southern home. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Can’t you get here sooner? He has smoke rising from his elbows.”
“I’ll put on some speed.”
~ ~ ~
Willow sat on the porch of her smaller meditation treehouse, a cup of cinnamon tea in hand. She wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, sitting with her knees up and her bare feet balanced on a footstool. She was listening to the night-birds chatter happily. An occasional bat flew by, something that always made her smile.
Bats were her particular friends, inclined as they were to swallow up insects by the ton-full each night. They kept her garden free of the small winged predators that could gobble up her fresh produce in a heartbeat.
She still had so much feel-good flowing through her veins that all she could do right now was smile. Of course, Malik had seemed distressed, but she knew that he’d deal with whatever was bothering him in his own time and way.
She sipped her tea and smiled a little more. She was in trouble. No question about that. But her veins had all these little joyful bursts of sensation exploding now and then to give her another dose of post-coital bliss.
She’d forgotten what it could be like or maybe she’d never really had this experience before, the savoring of sex with a man as powerful as Malik.
His shoulders. They were so well-muscled and yes, massive, even. She loved how he looked and felt physically, but then again what was not to love? He was a Vampire Guardsman, tall and built. His pecs were so beautiful that she wished she could call him back and spend some time feeling him up and maybe even sinking her wraith-fangs …
She caught her breath, closed her eyes, and forced the thoughts away or she’d be fully aroused all over again.
She’d meant for this to be nothing more than a first-and-a-last time with him, something to cleanse the palette so she could move on and return to her duties as the Protector of the wraith colony. Malik needed to become a distant memory.
She made herself relax and to release the images of him naked in her bed and on top of her, still joined. She wanted more, but she had to let him go.
What surprised her, as another sip of her tea brought the cinnamon sweetly into her mouth, was that she felt better, even stronger after having been with Malik. Maybe it was because she’d taken some of his blood, but she sensed that her ability to support the shield had improved.
Oh, but his blood. Dear sweet Goddess, the memory of not just his exquisite forest flavor, but of how she’d felt and how his blood had been like the most erotic fire down her throat, made her crave him all over again. And the more she’d suckled at his wrist, the more pleasure she’d felt deep inside her well.
If only she could be with him again.
But there was another obstacle besides her role as a Protector, which was something she needed to keep in the forefront of her mind. Malik was a Guardsman, and in many ways his lifestyle was opposed to her deeply committed fae life that always sought peace and a non-violent resolution to all problems.
Malik made war. He killed when necessary.
So, how could she ever be truly connected to all of that?
As the blissful sensations finally began to dim, and her responsibility as the Protector rose once more, she renewed her commitment. She knew her duty and she would fulfill the job given to her above all else.
And though she would always hold this night as one of the finest of her life, she had to let Malik go.
Taking a deep breath, she did just that.
As she stared out into the forest, however, she saw a faint light through all the branches and the leaves of the oak wood. Her heart set up a quick racket. No one should be able to find her here.
She tested the powerful spell that kept her home hidden in complete secrecy, and the charm held.
Malik had been able to see through the spell, but he was one of the most powerful vampires in the realm. Yet, as the light grew ever closer, she knew someone else had found her.
But who?
~ ~ ~
When Malik arrived back at his home in the south, his thoughts were divided between the reality about who Willow was in his life and the very bizarre fact that Davido was now in his home and very upset, at least according to his housekeeper.
Both circumstances had him tense as he entered the heavy, front door of his villa. He lived in a two-story house with an adjacent treehouse rec room that his Guardsmen could use whenever they wanted. The treehouse overlooked a fairly wide ravine, with a generous stream and a bathing pond.
When he didn’t find Davido
in his living room, he grew very still, extended his vampire hearing and listened for the old troll. The soft cursing that returned to him also surprised him as well as the location.
Davido was in his aviary of all places.
He crossed the living room and made his way through several smaller rooms to the path that led to the outdoor bird sanctuary. He’d never quite heard his birds squawking as much as they were right now.
Much of the hedge surrounding the aviary needed trimming back, so he couldn’t see inside what was a large forested area covering a quarter acre. When he reached the entrance, and the cursing started again, he finally caught sight of Davido and laughed outright.
“What are you doing, my friend?”
Davido the Wise scowled at Malik since he had birds covering him from head-to-foot. It would appear that every bird in the aviary had taken a fancy to him. “This is my wife’s doing. She took a pelter for reasons of which I am still ignorant. She gave me this spell insisting it would keep the birds away, but you see the true result for yourself.” He made an odd, disparaging noise with his lips, worse than a simple raspberry.
Malik entered the screened gate and quickly shut it behind him. He watched the path carefully since many of the birds were injured and could only hop.
Tonight, apparently, he didn’t need to worry; even the hopping birds climbed aboard the troll’s feet.
Malik couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to ever offend Vojalie, which means you must have really crossed the line with her. So what did you do?”
Davido shook his head, clearly bemused. “I only wish I knew. I’d apologize to her, a thousand fold, if I could figure out how I’d given offence.”
Malik glanced around. Screen mesh covered the entire enclosure, preventing any of the birds from leaving and predators from getting inside. “So, why did you come to the aviary at all?”
He rolled his eyes. “Because of that damned spell. I was drawn here like a fly to gremlin shit.”
The three rolls of his troll forehead were in such tight lines that Malik had the impression if Davido didn’t get help soon, he’d burst into flames. And Francesca was right; he did have smoke coming out his elbows, a real sign he was quickly reaching his limit.
Malik sensed what needed to be done, having been the brunt of more than one of Alexandra the Bad’s spells at one time or another. He drew close and, after gently nudging a chickadee out of the way first, he settled his hand on the troll’s arm.
Just as Malik thought it would, the spell broke and the birds, one by one, fluttered away.
Davido’s nostrils flared. “I need a fucking drink.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place, and I think I might just join you.”
Once outside the aviary, Davido added, “Just to be clear, I want some of that fine Scottish single malt of yours.”
“Absolutely. But we’ll need to head to the treehouse.”
Davido turned, glancing up into the canopy and glowering. “You mean the one up there?”
Malik glanced up at the large treehouse about fifty feet distant and nodded.
This time, Davido took hold of Malik’s arm and said, “Hold on.”
The next moment, Malik flew through some kind of space-time event. Only Davido and his wife Vojalie had the power to vanish and reappear in this way and this was the first time Malik had ever taken the trip himself.
He felt slightly disoriented as he arrived with Davido in the treehouse, a rec room he’d built just for his Guardsmen.
Davido looked around, still scowling. “A party pad for your Vampire Guard I see.”
“Yep.” Malik moved behind the bar and set out two glasses.
All the chairs were designed for big men and there was a pool table off to the side. A dozen stools lined the large bar.
He could hear splashing in the expansive pool below and the laughing of realm-women as they took advantage of the protected watering hole. The tree that housed the rec room had grown at the upper lip of the ravine through which a good sized stream flowed.
He’d had part of the stream dug out near the base of a twenty foot waterfall so that any females who wanted to partake could bathe freely without hindrance of clothes. Males of any species were forbidden to swim in the pool, but his Guardsmen had a view from above and could extend invitations to the women at will.
Malik turned and spun the combination to the safe that housed his liquor. Too many teenagers had taken advantage of the open nature of his treehouse and had pillaged his stock repeatedly.
Pouring out two glasses of Macallan and sliding one in Davido’s direction, he said, “The truth is, I can’t remember you ever having had a fight with your wife.”
Davido and Vojalie were the model of domestic bliss.
“It’s been a very long time since I felt her displeasure.” He downed the first glass and pushed it forward, demanding a refill.
Davido rarely drank like this.
Malik was so shocked that for a long moment the glass he’d brought to his lips just rested there. Finally, he took a sip, then frowned at the ancient troll. “Well, you must have done something?” He poured out another two fingers for Davido.
“I can’t think of a damn thing. All I know is that my wife had some sort of vision in which I did something she didn’t like, something she said was very crude, and she was all over my troll ass for it. I think it highly unfair that any man be held accountable for something in a vision until that ‘something’ happens. But she was breathing fire when I left to come here.”
Malik shook his head. “And is that why you’ve come?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake no. That’s not the reason. What do you take me for, a gremlin’s hind end?”
Malik threw back the rest of his drink and decided that given all that had happened, he needed another one. Pouring out his second, he then waggled the bottle at Davido. “Want another one, my friend?”
“Hell, yes. Three fingers, this time. I’m not going home until I’m blasted out of my head.”
Given that Malik had just learned that he now had a blood rose who he didn’t want, he joined Davido until the pair of them were seated in adjacent chairs with the bottle on the low table in front of them, and a whole lot of slurring going on.
Malik had his fifth drink in hand as he said, “Found two dead children earlier this evening. Just about lost my shit. And this lovely troll cleaned all the blood from my uniform while I stood there in shock.”
“Sweet Goddess,” Davido murmured. “I’m reminded of that human earth-saying that sometimes life just sucks.”
Davido continued to drink.
Malik kept the scotch flowing.
Finally, Davido said, “But I can’t forget why I came here …. which is … oh, shit. Now I’m remembering, and it’s bad, my friend. Bad.” He reached over and grabbed Malik’s arm. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you have to bond with Willow. She’s your blood rose, which I sense you already know. But she’s more than that. She has a connection to the absolute heart of our world, and though I’m not given much to prophesying….” He hiccupped and worked a little harder at getting out what he wanted to say. “Right now the entire future of the Nine Realms depends on you getting into that woman’s sweet spot and staying there.”
Had Davido just said ‘sweet spot’?
Malik didn’t know how to respond, because he was completely torn between two powerful reactions. The first caused all his muscles to tense up since he was ready to beat the troll to a pulp for even mentioning Willow’s ‘sweet spot’. The other filled Malik with an absolute horror that the fate of the entire Nine Realms – not just Ashleaf, but all Nine – now sat on his already overburdened shoulders.
He decided that since Davido was fairly trashed, he’d let the comment slide about Willow’s female parts. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with here. The Society just killed another family, and I intend to start relocating every half-breed in my realm to Swanicott Isla
nd.”
“Why?”
Okay, Davido was seriously drunk.
The troll turned toward the part of the treehouse that overlooked the stream. The entire rec room was open to the air, and each wall was built up only half way which offered a proper view of the surroundings. A few more stools lined the ravine side.
“And what is that delightful sound, like chimes tinkling? Am I hearing the laughter of women? I’m enraptured.” He set his drink down and slid off the chair. He took three steps, almost toppled over, then weaved his way to the half-wall.
Leaning against the edge, he peered down into the pool below. He whistled, then called out over his shoulder. “Why haven’t you invited me here … ” he belched, “before. This is a visual feast. Sunny-side-up eggs all floating in the water. I’m enchanted.”
Malik set his drink down. The image that now moved through his mind of women baring their breasts, plus the fact that he was half in the bag, prompted him to join Davido.
Taking up a stool next to the troll, Malik released a heavy sigh. The sight of so much skin, however, took him straight back to being with Willow. He even felt guilty as he stared down at the bathers.
Davido whistled again and whispered, “Look at the hooters on that one. She’d have to have her lady garments special made. Float for me, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. On your back. Oh, yeah.”
A feminine voice called up to him, “Davido the Wise, is that you? Why, you haven’t been to my bar in a goat’s age? How are you, my fine troll?”
Davido leaned over the railing now, his inhibitions completely wiped out by the Macallan. He opened his mouth to speak, but a woman’s voice coming from behind him and strident in tone, disrupted the moment.
“Just as I thought! My visions never lie. And here you are, flirting with another woman.”
Davido whirled around, then fell right on his ass next to Malik’s stool. “My love,” he slurred.
“You’re drunk?”
Malik quickly left his stool and crossed to Vojalie, although he swayed a couple of times in making the effort. With long dark brown hair and large, expressive brown eyes, Vojalie was absolutely one of the most beautiful fae women in the Nine Realms. She carried her toddler, an adorable troll child, Bernice, on her hip.
