Divine Hunter (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 4)

by C. N. Crawford

  Caine stared at her for a long moment. The air had gone so cold, that her breath misted before her face. “Fine. First we try on our own. If it doesn’t work, Malphas gets the third soul.”

  Shadows darkened the air around Ambrose. “I’ve read the legends, the historical accounts of Alexander the Great’s army. It won’t work with two mages. You’re wasting my time.”

  She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “We might as well try Caine’s idea. What do we have to lose? It either works or it doesn’t. Then we move on.”

  Ambrose stared at her for an uncomfortably long moment before straightening. After a moment, he snapped his fingers. “Kevin! Come closer.”

  Rosalind jumped, startled to realize that another vampire guard had been lurking in the shadows. A tall, thin man with long hanks of ginger hair lumbered into the center of the room, a silver pike in his hands.

  Kevin. Rosalind frowned. They really needed some better vampire names around here. Mentally, she was renaming him Vlad the Eviscerator.

  “Kevin,” Ambrose said, interrupting her thoughts. “We’re going to try an experiment on you.”

  Kevin—Vlad—furrowed his brow, his eyes widening. Clearly, he didn’t like this idea, but he seemed to like the idea of arguing with Ambrose a little less. Smart man.

  Vlad cleared his throat. His fingers visibly tensed on his pike, knuckles whitening. “What do you need me to do?”

  Ambrose cocked his head. “Just stand there, I believe. We’ve never done this before.” He turned to Rosalind. “I take it your second souls know the spells?”

  “Let’s find out,” Rosalind said.

  She stood next to Caine, staring at Vlad. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she was ready for this. She had no idea what would happen to Vlad. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and for all she knew, she was about to kill him with magic.

  “Just give me a second.” She threaded her fingers together, then flexed. “I just have to get in the right zone.”

  Caine quirked a smile, his body already glowing with silver light. “Certainly. You wouldn’t want to pull something.”

  Rosalind closed her eyes, summoning Cleo’s vibrations, that leafy, green power that curled through her body. Cleo. I need to turn this vampire into a daywalker.

  Tendrils of Cleo’s magic enshrouded her body like vines. In the next moment, she was whispering the words to an ancient spell, a song that spoke of light and darkness, day and night, a union of opposites. As she chanted, she could feel Cleo’s aura mingling with Caine’s magic, shadows entwining with life, birth with decay. She could feel Caine’s body drawing her closer, like a magnetic pull, until her arm brushed his…

  As magic unfurled from their bodies, she began to lose all sense of time and space. They were simply the night and the forest, the crows feasting on dead deer, the yews growing above graves, sun dappling their branches.

  The whispers of the ancients whispered in her mind. Dizzy, she opened her eyes, staring at the stars, staring as the constellations shifted around the North Star, the slow waltz of Cassiopeia and Ursa Major.

  She had the sense of shifting winds, shifting stars, time slowly passing while the words of the spell tripped off her tongue, over and over, while magic whirled from her body. As her magic whirled around the room, her body began to grow tired, her legs shaking. How long had she been chanting for? Since the beginning of time, perhaps.

  The ancient song of magic knelled in her skull, the power of the gods, until her legs began to shake, and her breath grew ragged in her throat. And in the vault of stars above them, the night sky danced on—until shadows crept over the pearly light. She stared above her as a dark wind snuffed out the stars. At last, nothing remained but the darkness.

  A painful void gnawed at her chest, and in the hollows of her mind, her sister’s face flickered, eyes wide. Sorrow climbed up Rosalind’s throat, and she sank deeper into the darkness. Caine’s magic was overwhelming her, his shadows seeping into her body. And yet, she couldn’t feel his presence anymore. She only felt alone. Stolas.

  The void would suck her in, and never let her out again.

  Light. I need more light. If she couldn’t conjure the light, she’d die here, alone and insane.

  And that’s when the screams pierced her concentration. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at Vlad, his clothes blazing like a torch, smoke curling through the open roof.

  In the next moment, shadow magic surged from Caine’s wrist, and he iced the flames, snuffing them out in cold shadows. Vlad’s body shook, holes burned through the fabric of his clothes, and smoke curled through the open roof. The air smelled of burnt flesh.

  Rosalind rolled onto her hands and knees, her body shaking. Nausea welled in her gut, and she suppressed the urge to vomit.

  I guess that didn’t work out so well.

  Caine held out his hand to her. “Are you all right?”

  She grabbed it, standing on shaky feet. Fatigue burned through her muscles. “I’m fine. More importantly, is Vlad alright?”

  “Who?”

  “I mean, Kevin.” She turned to the vampire, who shuddered, smoke still rising from his skin. “Are you okay, Kevin?”

  Mutely, he nodded, then shot a panicked look to Ambrose. “Do I have to do that again?”

  Ambrose frowned. “Yes.”

  “No.” Rosalind loosed a sigh, fighting the nausea that climbed up her throat. “I don’t think this is a good idea. It didn’t feel right. If the spell was meant for three mages, I don’t think it will work. How long were we going for?”

  In the corner of the room, Tammi had fallen asleep in an armchair, and Malphas sat at the edge of a bed, sipping wine, watching them. Aurora had already left.

  Ambrose shrugged. “Eight, ten hours. The servants have been supplying me with blood.”

  No wonder her legs were trembling. “You do know that humans need food and water, right?”

  Ambrose frowned. “It sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “One more time.” Caine ran a hand through his hair. “It didn’t work that time, but we can try it one more time. I felt it working before Rosalind succumbed to the magic.”

  “Don’t blame this on me,” Rosalind said. “You were using too much magic. I could feel it overwhelming me.”

  Shadows thickened around Ambrose. “I don’t want to wait any longer. Caine, fetch the sigil. It’s time to grant your brother another soul.”

  “One more try,” Caine said, the air chilling around him. “Then we use the sigil.”

  Dizzy, Rosalind faltered and Caine caught her by the elbow. He tucked a finger below her chin, looking into her eyes. “You don’t look like you’re ready to try again.”

  “I may have the magic of seven gods, but I still need to eat and sleep like a human. Whatever we’re doing, I’m not doing it now.”

  Caine glanced at Ambrose. “She hasn’t learned how to absorb the gods’ power yet. If she uses too much at once, she’ll become lost in the magic. It’s already overwhelmed her. We won’t be using the sigil nor the spell again until Rosalind has rested.” Caine slipped an arm around Rosalind’s waist. “I’ll help you get back to your room.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m fine. I can get back on my own.” She pulled away from Caine, walking for the door.

  “Rosalind,” Ambrose called out before they got to the door. “Whatever you do, don’t let Bileth know about this. Any of it.”

  She turned to look at him. “What’s the story between you two? Why does he hate you so much?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” Ambrose said.

  “I’ll find out, one way or another.” As she began walking again, her eyes started to drift closed, but she fought against the urge to sleep, blinking to keep her eyes awake. She couldn’t let her mind rest yet—not until she’d figured out a way to save Lilinor.

  Chapter 14

  Rosalind lay back on her bed, letting her muscles melt into the soft blankets. Her mind churned. Was Malphas really
the only answer to this problem? In a world of magic, there had to be more than one way to achieve their goals.

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Peeling herself off the bed, Rosalind rose. On the way to the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the enormous, silver-framed mirror. Even now, her cheeks still looked gaunt and pale, her shoulders a little bonier than she’d like.

  She pulled open the door—expecting Caine, but finding instead a young vampire, whose long black hair tumbled over a white dress. She held a domed tray, and steam curled from the top.

  “The beautiful incubus said you’d be hungry. He sent me with dinner.” A blush rose to her cheeks. “If he ever needs anything else from me, tell him he can ask me anytime.”

  “I’m starving. Thank you.”

  The scent of garlic and fresh fish wafted into the air.

  “Where should I put it?” asked the vampire.

  “I’ll take it.” Rosalind’s mouth watered as she pulled it from the vampire’s hands. “Thank you.”

  As she turned to walk to the balcony, the vampire propped open the door, adding one final request. “Like I said. If he needs anything, I’m available.”

  “Got it.” Rosalind practically slammed the door in her face, then crossed to the balcony. She wanted the open air as much as possible.

  She slid the tray onto the table. She took a seat, then pulled the dome off the tray, her stomach rumbling at the sight of salmon and garlic mashed potatoes, seasoned with rosemary. At this point, she was so hungry her entire body was shaking.

  A corked bottle of wine lay out from the night before, and she pulled the cork, filling the empty wine glass on the tray.

  It was peaceful out here, with flickering lanterns hanging from the myrtle trees, and the faint rhythm of the waves pounding the rocks below. She cut into the fish, spearing it with just the right amount of potato on her fork. The flavors melted in her mouth, and she closed her eyes as she ate. Heaven. The vampires had no idea what they were missing.

  When she was halfway through her meal, someone knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Malphas.”

  Interesting. “Come in.”

  He pushed through the door, crossing to the balcony. As he pulled out a chair for himself, he smiled. “I see you’re making fast work of the meal I ordered for you.”

  “My hunger waits for no man.” She smiled. “So you’re the beautiful incubus.”

  His eyebrows rose. “As if you just noticed.”

  She giggled. “Where’s Caine?”

  “Busy scouring the harems. I believe that was once a favorite pastime of his.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “Looking for a third human who Ambrose will approve of.”

  Rosalind took another bite of the salmon and potatoes. The rich, buttery food melted in her mouth. Lilinor’s fae chef was amazing. “Do you want any of this food?”

  “No. I’ve eaten already.”

  Good. She didn’t particularly want to share.

  The lantern-light wavered over his porcelain skin, flickered in his pale eyes. When she looked at him, she could see the boy he once was. She could almost hear his laughter filling the air, as they trampled over the mayflower petals, running through the hawthorn grove.

  He poured himself a glass of wine. “Despite what Caine said earlier, he’s still resisting allowing me to take on the soul.”

  “He’s awfully protective of you.”

  “Do you think this spell will work, even if Caine finds another human?”

  “I have no idea. It’s not like we have a lot of information to go on.” She took a sip of the dry red wine. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why Caine is so determined to stop you from taking on this role?”

  He loosed a long sigh, staring at the moon through the myrtle leaves. “Before you began using the gods-magic, you were human. You were human when you got the second soul. Caine and I are demigods. We’re descendants of Nyxobas, the lord of darkness. He believes that we’re tainted somehow. That darkness runs through us, and that with all this power, it will turn us into monsters. He believes that a second soul unleashes your true nature, and that because of who our father is… our true nature is malignant.”

  “And what is your father like?”

  Malphas shrugged. “Neither of us really knows him, but he’s on Nyxobas’s council. Caine says he’s a rapist.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t think Caine really thinks we are the same, though.” Malphas’s gaze met hers. “He wants to think we are, but he’s worried that we’re not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We were born several centuries apart, from different mothers. My mother was from the noble classes of Maremount.” His eyebrows drew together, and he took a sip of his wine. “He doesn’t talk about his own mother. Not even to me.”

  Caine was never as open as Malphas, and she was so fascinated she nearly forgot to eat. “Was Caine’s mother from Maremount too? Is that where you both were born?”

  He shook his head. “Caine is from South London.”

  How strange that after all this time, she’d never even known where he’d been born.

  “Where is your mother now?” Malphas was close to her age. His mother might be in her forties or fifties.

  “Dead. I never knew her. After my father seduced her or raped her or whatever he did, her reputation was ruined. Not long after I was born, she jumped from the Silver Tower of Throcknell Fortress.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her heart ached for him. “If that’s how they treat women, I’m glad to be out of Maremount.”

  He swirled his wine in his glass. “It’s an unforgiving place. Or it was. Things might have changed now. The King was imprisoned, by his own daughter I believe.”

  “Your mother was nobility, even if her reputation was ruined. And Caine’s mother…?”

  Malphas took a deep breath. “I only know she wasn’t nobility. Caine was born five hundred years ago, in a time when everyone believed that some people are better than others by virtue of their lineage. I think that concept stuck with him. I think that deep down, he thinks my mother’s lineage made me different than he is. Purer, or something. He calls me the good brother.”

  Rosalind thought back on the things Caine had said to Malphas in Ambrose’s room. “He was trying to goad you into saying it. He wants to hear you say it out loud.”

  “But I don’t believe it’s true. I don’t believe Caine’s theory, that his second soul brought out his true nature. He is lying to himself.”

  Rosalind nodded slowly. “So when he said you can’t handle a second soul either, it’s because he needs that to be true. He’s not trying to convince you. He’s trying to convince himself. He truly believes that a second soul brings out your true nature. And if you could handle a second soul better than he could, what would that say about him?”

  “That he’s tainted through and through. At least, that’s my guess.”

  Rosalind took another bite of her food, the salmon a perfect complement to the mashed potatoes. “It seems very astute to me.” Since Malphas was much chattier about his personal life than Caine was, this seemed a perfect opportunity to find out more. “How did you and Caine end up with my parents in the first place?”

  Malphas drummed his fingertips on the table. “You know some of my brother’s history now, don’t you? You know he killed the king and queen of Maremount, centuries ago.”

  “Ah yes, the Ravener threw them out the window. He told me. Considering they’d enslaved him for a year, I can’t say I blame him.”

  “You wouldn’t blame him, but others did. After he escaped Maremount, the King’s son placed a bounty on his head. Parents told their children stories of the Ravener, the demon who slaughtered innocents in their beds. The monster who raped queens.”

  A chilly night breeze whispered over them, and the lanterns groaned, swinging the branches, their candlelight flickerin
g.

  “But that’s not the way it happened,” Rosalind said. “It was the other way around. I saw it in his memories.”

  “Well, Caine wasn’t around to tell his side of the story, and no one would believe a shadow demon anyway. Especially not one with a father like Abrax.”

  Rosalind nodded slowly. “I get it. But that was centuries ago. Long before my parents were alive. How did he end up back in Maremount?”

  Malphas traced his fingertip around the rim of the wine glass, the movement hypnotic. “One generation after the next, the mortal kings sought to bring Caine back to Maremount. They wanted to torture him publicly, to hang his ruined body in Lullaby Square.”

  “To keep Erish’s sister company. Her petrified head decorates the fountain.”

  Malphas raised his glass. “Nothing can bring a city together like a demonic scapegoat. As you can see, the Brotherhood continues to use that strategy to perfection. It would have been a beautiful way for the king of Maremount to unify a city, to appease ordinary citizens with a show of bloodletting.” He raised his hand like an orator. “You see, peasants? We’re not the monsters oppressing you, keeping you from learning magic. Keeping you in the dirt. It’s the demons you should fear. And we’re here to kill them for you. We are your protectors.” He shrugged. “So the kings of Maremount hunted my brother for centuries. What a boon it would have been for them to torture the Ravener in the town square.”

  “And Caine evaded them.”

  “The Throcknell family had no idea he was here, in Lilinor. They’d completely lost track of him. After Caine first escaped Maremount, he found his way to this shadow realm for safety. As a grandson of Nyxobas, he could claim sanctuary here. Ambrose took him in, gave him a place in his army. And in a short time Caine proved he was capable of leading it. He was fearless. He liked fighting. And men respected him.”

  A marine wind rushed off the sea, whispering over Rosalind’s skin. “If no one knew where he was, how did my parents end up imprisoning him?”