by Scott, Talyn
Ail could have sworn he saw the devil himself flash behind Volos’ eyes, but it could have been the lighting. “You did not receive notice due to your queen’s current fragility. Why would you attend?”
“She may be grumpy, but she’s far from fragile.” Jayce turned his back on Volos in a blatant show of disrespect and… confidence. After all, who wouldn’t be afraid of the Prince of Vampires poised at your back? “You okay, Ail?”
Ail cleared his throat, rising to stand but Jayce waved away his effort. “Yes, I’m fine,” he lied and everyone could probably smell it. He wasn’t exactly afraid of dying, knew that Heath would take care of his Molly. Simply, Ail wanted to spend the rest of his immortal life with her, sparring with her and making babies. She wasn’t the only one who had fallen hard. He had, too. And he should have had the courage to admit this to her before coming here. “Thank you for attending, Alpha Jordan.”
“No need for thanks, my man,” Jayce said with an easy smile. “It’s what I do.”
Bane would never talk mind to mind in deep-shit situations, figuring the vampires could listen in, and he always blocked Ail. So he reached out to his Alpha. If anyone else besides the Beta Beast could hear Ail, it would be Jayce. He projected his thoughts, just as Jayce turned to Volos. Tell Molly that she’s the most ornery female I’ve ever met. And even though she doesn’t always listen to what I tell her to do, I wouldn’t change a thing about her. I –I love her and she should know. And if something happens to me now or in the next few days, I want her to remember us as good thing.
Jayce looked over his shoulder, his eyes flashing the Alpha Beast. “You are going to relay that message personally. Now, Prince Volos, back to the Gryphs,” he said with a nod towards the vampiress. “You might want to excuse the widow. Some things are hard to hear, especially about the ones you love. Or in her case, possessed.”
When Oycher made a move to collect the vampiress and herd her out of the Joint Faction Facility, she gripped one of his daggers made from ancient, Habaline ore and came after Ail with all she had. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t going down at a vampiress’ hand. He couldn’t shame his family that way. Oycher gripped her just as Ail kicked out, but the flimsy chair hampered his move and metal bolts flew in all directions. In a blue blur, Jayce had the female by the throat, holding her out as she fruitlessly kicked at him. With a scowl on his face, Jayce asked, “Who has her leash?” Oycher came up to her, bit her throat, and misted her away.
Once again, Jayce faced Volos. “You don’t care what happens to her, do you?”
Volos turned nearly purple. “How dare you.”
“How dare I?” Jayce mocked. “Even though you and I have had a long-distance acquaintance, I always felt comfortable with you since you and my father got along alright.” Jayce’s lip curled when he said, “But I’m not comfortable anymore.”
“Over a youngling, you would degenerate centuries of harmony?” Volos hissed, tossing his blond hair over his shoulders.
“Unlike your kind, I will back each and every member of my Pack. The werewolves and mixed bloods who have trusted in me to care for them and their generations, to look over them, to hand them loving discipline when they get out of line. I take my position seriously, just as my father did before me.”
“I see where this is leading and I am more than surprised that you would challenge me to a Death Match, when you have an Alpha Youngling on the way, your Pack’s next leader.”
“Firstly, and I say this with all due respect, I’m not too concerned about the outcome of any Death Match with you. Still, if in this hypothetical match, things don’t go accordingly for me, my mates will raise my Alpha Youngling in the way I would raise him myself. And I’ve made provisions for any possible circumstance. Funny about sons, isn’t it? You would do anything for them, even before they’re born. But I don’t have to tell you that - do I?
“I’ll take you word for it as I’m still unmated.”
“Yeah, it’s a little different for the Dynasty Vampyr as opposed to a Species vampire, though. Whereas a Species has a fated Bride, you can choose and bring your own female to your way of eternal life. Mate them the way a Species takes his one and only Bride. Or not. You can choose lovers and procreate wherever, whenever. I guess that suits royalty, the ability to choose among many.”
“Your point.”
“My point is that we will bring your bastard son, Extol, down. Now, I suggest you drop this ridiculous Blood for Blood trial against Ail.”
He sputtered. “You can prove nothing!”
“Not only will I challenge you, I will make sure all factions know the years you’ve covered up Extol’s and many other Dynasty Vampyrs’ self-inflicted sickness. Even vampires want a leader who can protect them, but what if he doesn’t protect them from themselves? Yeah, I know all about it. Unfortunately, my sister by mating was caught in the middle of his psychotic life, but you knew all along, didn’t you? Cover up after cover up, daddy wiped Extol’s dripping claws.”
Jayce addressed Ail, “You know Dynasty Vampyrs can only drink from Donors, a classification usually made up of mixed bloods who the Dynasty Vampyrs receive their sustenance. Problem is they are so very rare. Centuries ago, and I have this straight from Alpha Ciaran’s records, Extol experimented, trying to create Donors to feed the Dynasty Empire. His expenditures funded by Volos himself. Of course, like all things creepy, Extol’s plan backfired.”
“This is nonsense!” Volos screamed.
“Hush, now,” chided Jayce. “I’m not finished. In the process, Extol and many others drank from those other than Donors, keeping the humans and mixed bloods alive by feeding them Dynasty Blood as anti-venom. Sometimes it works, right? Other times,” Jayce said with a negligent shrug, “not so much. So many, many innocents died in the process. But what was even more frightening was that Extol and the other Dynasty Vampyrs became deranged form drinking non-Donor blood. All those years ago, it was swept under the rug. Recently, you tried to do the same, covering up for his addictive bloodlust. And what has that cost you? More lives have been lost. And for what? Your pride?” Jayce pointed at Ail. “You would execute one of my werewolves to cover up your deranged son’s behavior, take away his life so Extol can run free to kill again. What kind of leader are you?”
“I tried…” Prince Volos said wearily.
“If you tried something right, it would have worked. But you’re going to stop this now, and you’re going to drop these fraudulent charges against Ail Ruyter. Or you’ll face me one on one. You may be the Prince of Vampires, but I guarantee, you’ve never fought anything like me.”
“It’s a trap,” Volos said, clenching his teeth.
“What did you say?” Ail growled. “What’s a trap?”
“He took her clothes…made her think she was having a job interview.”
“We know the historical museum is a trap,” Ail snapped. “And we have a kickass counterplan.”
Prince Volos closed his eyes. “It won’t work if the historical museum isn’t the actual trap.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“Down, Molly! Get down, Lass!”
Explosions.
Three to be exact.
Heath’s hands came high over her shoulders as he pressed her to the cobblestone sidewalk, where Bane’s property joined the compound. Molly angled her head, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. She saw Rune’s frantic face, as he called for his brother, pitted against the oddly blue fire behind him. He was in mid-transformation with blood quickly saturating his shirt. Molly hearing was going in and out, though there was a distinct ringing.
She remembered Heath walking next to her as they veered toward the main building of the werewolf compound. They were headed towards Ail’s car in a rendezvous with Arian and his brothers to do their part in the counterplan against Extol. “Heath,” she said as loudly as she could, though it came out as a desperate whisper. “Can’t you get…off me? I’m fine.” He was too heavy, and she tried to
ease from under him.
“You’re not alright, lass,” he said, cursing loudly. “Give me a minute. I have to get you to safety, and I cannot sense where the worst of the fires are.” What he wasn’t saying is that he didn’t know where the next explosion might erupt.
She blinked several times, her lashes sticking together, though she wore no makeup. There was someone down at the steps that led to the long, wooden walkway which trailed the marsh, and his limbs were back in a way she knew that he was dead. Bile rose in her throat. “Heath,” she nearly choked on the words, “is this Extol’s depravity in action…could he have done this?” A searing pain went through her stomach, just as another explosion rocked the compound. In its ground-jolting wake, she heard the muffled sounds of someone calling out clipped orders and a grumbling series of growls.
Another male was now running down the pathway, and Molly could literally smell his skin burning. Ashamed of herself for gagging, she caught her breath and held it for as long as she could do so. But it wasn’t long before she had to release it again, to inhale the same stench. Werewolves were literally on fire, which was one of reasons Heath wouldn’t allow her to move. He didn’t want her hysterical, making decisions that could get her killed. “We have to move, Heath.” She wanted to move instead of playing sitting duck.
“Not yet,” said Heath, his breathing labored. But she knew he shook his head, because his hair slid over the side of her face and neck. “There was another Gryph flyin’ above the highest building, and I suspect he’s lurkin’, waitin’ for the others to run off so he can take you.” She felt him tense before a wave of coughing racked his body. Luckily, he flattened his palms on either side of her head and relieved Molly of some of his body weight. In the distance, she heard a girl sobbing, and she wondered if it was the woman, who she'd met yesterday. The one Ail tried to ignore. Towards the beachside, she heard a smaller round of explosions, shouts, and the clomping of boots coming across the wooden walkway. And even though it was in the middle of the day, shadows darkened the sky, nearly eclipsing the sun.
“Do you see Ail’s car, lass?”
She blinked again several times. Something grey was in her eyelashes but she could see Ail’s silver car. It hadn’t been hit, was sitting there waiting like her chariot. “Y-yeah.” She shoved down more bile, refusing to give in to hysteria. More shadows darkened overhead, casting the walkway in deep shadows.
“Slip your hand inside my front pocket and pull out his keys,” he said and released another pained gasp.
“Heath, what’s w-wrong with you.” A waft of thick smoke suddenly covered the ground, followed by low rumbling beneath her body.
“Just do it,” he said in a steely voice and she felt his compulsion come her way. “We have no choice but to…try.”
Reaching behind her, another searing pain tore through her stomach when she found his pocket. She breathed through it and quickly retrieved the keys. “Got them.” There were only two keys on the ring, and she pushed her finger through the circlet of the fob, securing them.
“Get ready and when I say move, head straight toward that car without looking up or to the sides. You’re to concentrate on getting to the car and nothing else. Not even me.” Another wave of compulsion came her way, but it was a feeble effort on his part and Molly was truly horrified at his weakness.
She shifted, ignoring the pain in her stomach. The cobblestones cutting into her raw flesh only seemed to make it worse, so the benefit of moving was two-fold. Mimicking his hands, she pressed her palms flat on the walk. “I know this isn’t a good time,” she stopped and took a cleansing breath to dull the pain, “to say this…but when I said I was falling…hard.” Her bones felt like they were grinding together. “I meant that I…”
“You love me, too,” he declared against her ear, his lips pressing the outer shell. “Thank you…for lovin’ me. Move!”
Molly pushed off the walkway, staggered, and then ate up the distance between her and Ail’s car as fast as she could possibly go. Debris and ash were floating down from the sky and those ominous shadows were overhead, but she didn’t look up, kept going just like Heath had demanded. All the sudden, she heard absolutely nothing, as if someone pulled the plug on the earth, right before a painfully bright burst of light encompassed them.
Heath moved ahead of her, tugging her hand, running for the car. And she soon realized why he wasn’t carrying her. She could barely recognize him. In fact, not one inch of his body appeared to have any skin left. She nearly fell at the sheer terror of seeing him that way, going down on one side, her elbow and knee banging excruciatingly against the parking lot. He gripped her and pulled her forward, right when the sounds came back to her ears. Her feet flew from beneath her as he raced on and she was certain her shoulder nearly dislocated with his efforts, but it was better than dying.
With the pain growing in her stomach and her throat filling with clogging ash, she nearly collapsed when they reached the car. She hit the button on the key fob and heard the locks open. And suddenly Heath wasn’t there. She spun and caught him backing away several feet with wide eyes and a determined forehead. With a warning leaving his lips for her to drive off, a whooshing sounded over her. A Gryph was heading straight for her and Heath’s intentions were clear: he was going to fight it hand to hand while she took off, which wasn’t going to happen. “We stick together!” But her words landed on deaf ears because he took off to the left. One hand pointed at Ail’s car and the other reaching up to claw the low-flying Gryph.
Molly knew the second Heath realized his maneuver was out maneuvered, when another Gryph dipped towards her. She ducked out of its way and it landed right on top of Ail’s car, its feet leaving good-sized dents in the hood. There wasn’t any reason for her not to reach for the door and make an effort to leave the scene and pick up Heath on the way out of the compound. And when she made that move, arms were around her, knocking her to the ground, and they didn’t belong to Heath. Instantly, she struggled, her face scraping the asphalt. From the immediate and excruciating pain, she realized her face had been severely burned. Whoever pushed her down used enough force to knock the wind out of her burning lungs. He pressed her harder against the asphalt as the Gryph took off, leaving them.
“Calm down,” Extol whispered and what was left of her skin literally crawled. He flipped her over, none too gently, and propped himself on both hands, looking down at her. She could see his strange butterscotch eyes taking in her injuries, but he didn’t seem too concerned. So either she wasn’t hurt as badly as she felt or he was the coldest bastard she’d ever encountered. Considering the death and mayhem surrounding her, she knew the answer immediately. His pristine clothes were covered in ash and streaked with dirt, his buttons torn from his shirt. He reached down and cupped her face. The actions stung her painfully but she refused to say so.
“Isn’t it ironic?” Extol said, caressing her cheek, the flesh severely charred. “Your Heath used a Druid curse to keep from claiming you until you divorced your husband. Out of simple courtesy, he’s going to die, ending his lonely centuries on this earth without living his life with his celestially appointed female. And your Ail, isn’t he a handful? But not to worry, even if he never makes it to a Blood for Blood court and dies by my father’s hands, a Gryph will surely kill him.” He laughed manically. “One male cursed for waiting. One cursed for saving you.”
Her throat was impossibly dry, but Molly managed to say. “But I’m strong enough for the three of us.”
“You see,” Extol said, his eyes darkening. “That’s what I find so endearing about you.” He looked to the side and she followed his line of vision. Even in the unnatural overcast, she could see the silver gleaming over Heath’s body, in the form of a large net. And without any protection of skin, he was burning to a painful crisp. He had taken the brunt of the earlier explosion that landed next to them, saving her life. By the looks of him, Molly would have never survived. Tears over Heath’s ultimate sacrifice stung her failing vis
ion. “You want me, not him,” Extol breathed out in a tormented whisper. “Stop looking at him and look at me. I killed your husband for you. Killed him! You have to realize this, by now.”
A nerve jumped in her eye, ticking nervously. “I was no longer married to Wilson. Maybe you forgot I left him. I wouldn’t have…kissed you at the Edison Estate.” His body stiffened with obvious excitement and her heart beat frantically in fear, but she kept talking, “Remember the kiss, when you said you would see me after the next rain.”
“And I’m here, ready to take you home.” He rose slightly above her, stupidly relieving most of his weight, and waved a hand between them, his claws soaked in blood. “I kept my promise.”
“Then, Extol, I have to trust…a male who…keeps his promise.” Molly saw part of the net was sinking into Heath’s throat. She was told silver could devastate some werewolves and not harm others. Unfortunately, Heath was in the former camp and the intensity of his pain was written all over his face. He said nothing, was staring across the length of the parking lot and the yards that separated them felt like impossible miles. I can feel you, she wanted to say.
“Could you want me?” Extol’s voice was hopeful, though he eyed her shrewdly.
“I, too, am drawn to you.” She fought to keep her eyes on the lunatic in front of her, shakily reaching up with her fingers and brushing his chin lightly. “Of course, I’m full of your blood, aren’t I?”
“Yes, yes, and I’m sure it will eventually close that stomach wound of yours, which is the only reason I’m not misting you to safety right now. I don’t know if you can tolerate my bite, in your current condition.” He took a deep breath. “We have to wait until after the revolt.”
“The revolt?”
“I take credit for dreaming this up, but the hard work belongs to the Gryphs. The royal guard doesn’t want werewolves attacking its own so they’re showing them who’s boss. When the fighting dies down, my favored Gryph will transport you safely.”
