Mills placed a hand on David’s shoulder and drew him back into the circle of witches. In his other hand was a spray container of colloidal silver. He placed himself shoulder to shoulder with David. As he raised the container, the witches around them raised a single finger in Vlad’s direction.
Vlad closed his eyes, held several deep breaths, and regained his composure. He whipped out his cell phone and rapidly dialed another number. Speaking so fast David thought it sounded like buzzing, he directed someone to secure Max in his chambers and lock down the surrounding grounds. He looked up at the changing sky. Turning to the Council members, he bowed.
“If I may impose one more day, I vould be grateful for your hospitality and shelter,” he said with manners learned in at court centuries ago.
“You are welcome to shelter with us,” Lady Helena agreed. “If you would be so kind as to help us locate our missing mother, we would be much obliged.”
“Certainly. How else may I be of service?” The politician replaced the enraged warrior. He offered Lady Helena and Lady Ursula each an elbow, escorting them back the main house.
“Geesh, is he bipolar? He can flip like a light switch,” Mills commented. He gave another signal, and the security witches stood down. “One minute he’s about to eat someone alive, and the next he’s this perfect gentleman.”
“If you had that many years to practice, you’d be as good an actor as him,” David said once sure Vlad was out of earshot.
“You think that much anger is an act?” Mills looked doubtful.
“No. I think the politician is the act. The sociopath is real. He obviously loves those he chooses for his circle. Everyone else is either for him or against him with little leeway between the two,” David replied.
Deep down he knew what he said was true. Vlad gave Cassy her freedom and David his life, so long as he was bonded to Cassy. Max enjoyed free rein to do as he pleased. Vlad covered up some of his errors on occasion, but at the slightest hint of Max’s involvement, Vlad nearly lost it.
The sky began pushing back the black with shades of indigo and dusty lavender. The sunrise made its approach known. The dangerous pinks and golden-oranges threatened to replace the purple hues.
Liz walked up to David and buried her face in his chest, sobbing. She said something he did not understand. Her arms went around his neck. She dropped her weight on him. To prevent her from throwing them both out of balance, he picked her up with one arm under her knees and the other behind her torso.
“I’m…I’m…oh, Max!” Liz wailed.
David felt bad for her. She found out by eavesdropping about her husband’s potential involvement in her kidnapping. With no experience in such areas, David said nothing, hoping his presence alone comforted her.
She slowed the crying down to mere snubs in no time. Accepting a handkerchief a wispy-looking witch offered, she dried her red eyes and pink-tinged cheeks. Motioning to be let down, she straightened remnants of her dress as best as possible. A couple of deep breaths appeared to help her calm her further.
“I know who Josephine Corvinus is, if you want in on a dirty little secret,” Liz offered. She did not wait for anyone to accept. “She is Max’s mistress and daughter of Matthias Corvinus. He was responsible for the death of Max’s grandfather, Vlad the Impaler.
“I tried overlooking his dalliances for decades, but this is the final straw. She wants made vampires to be free of the laws restricting their numbers and feeding habits. She sees humans as little better than farm animals and born vampires as overlords. If she succeeds, our wealth gets redistributed, all part-vampires get turned, and the world becomes their personal playground,” she confessed.
Mills took her hand, giving it a sympathetic pat. “Does Vlad know this?”
“He knew about her plans. I’m sure he didn’t know about their relationship until tonight. She just couldn’t wait to gloat. That will be her misfortune. Vlad will have every mercenary on file out looking for her, both werewolf and vampire,” Liz replied.
“We need to get the two of you inside pronto,” Mills advised, looking at the horizon. “I don’t want to know what the paperwork will look like if two vampire royals get turned to crispy bacon on my watch.” He gave them both a wink and a coy smile.
“Gee, thanks man. Nice to know you care so much,” David teased back. He started down the earthen ramp toward the main house. A series of gasps from behind him stopped him in his tracks.
“Sir! We have a problem!” A shout came from the other portal.
David’s head snapped in the direction of the shout to see the energy ring flicker like a florescent light about to go out. The edges shrank, even as the witches poured more power into maintaining it. The scene on the other side became an indistinct collection of shapes and colors. With a whooshing noise followed by a loud pop, the portal collapsed.
David hit his knees. His mind screamed, No! The words stuck in his throat. Cassy’s way home had disappeared.
* * * *
Ronan’s home was a larger version of the wooden structures Cassy saw other elves using. The bridge ended at a wide platform encircling the entire massive oak. A set of stairs with intertwined vines and branches led up to the dwelling, making it possible for others to use the platform without going past Ronan’s doors or windows.
The front door consisted of a curtain of thick English ivy draped over the archway. As Ronan approached, the ivy untangled and parted to allow entrance. It quickly rewove itself behind them.
Glowing orbs bobbed near the ceiling. As the light outside dimmed, the orbs grew brighter. The spheres seemed to move as Ronan did, providing him all the light he needed. He waved his hand at a group of them. Several jockeyed for position to attend to Cassy.
All the interior furnishings and decorations were crafted from ornately carved wood. Shell and stone inlays decorated some items, like chairbacks, tabletops, and the front edges of the shelves. The shelves covered one wall and housed brightly colored glass jars and vials filled with a variety of unknown liquids. Plant material floated in some, giving the room the feel of a laboratory.
The window tapestries opened to reveal a view of the forest floor and the leafy canopy. The breeze wafted in the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. A sweet, melodic song drifted in and mingled with the scents to create a deep sense of sacred space. Suddenly, Ronan’s house seemed more like a temple than a home.
“Please, Cassandra, this way. A bath is ready for your use, and fresh clothes are on your bed,” Ronan said. He held open another curtain of ivy and gestured her through. “I spelled the ivy to recognize you. No one will bother you as long as you are here.”
“Thank you, Ronan. I have to ask. Why are you doing this? Being so nice, I mean.”
Her curiosity finally got the better of her. She wondered about him, about who he was. Mab said she should have known Ronan was involved. But why? Queen Mab ruled Avalon. Ronan resided in her kingdom. Why buck the queen?
“It is late, and the explanation requires more time than we have. I will see when you rise. Happy dreams, Princess Cassandra,” Ronan said, bowing slightly with a hand over his heart. He passed through a different ivy-covered door. Through it, she saw a bed similar in style to those in the fortress.
Cassy stood shocked and wide-eyed. Happy dreams. Her beloved best friend and bodyguard of over two hundred years, Erica, wished her happy dreams every day before sunrise. Until her murder, that is. How could he have known? Maybe he just wanted to wish her well. She felt, however, Ronan knew more than he seemed and did nothing without a reason.
With a shake of her head, she went through her own ivy-covered door. A vine-and-branch-woven bed draped in white satin filled most of the space. A soft, pink cotton gown lay on the foot of the bed.
A slipper-style tub filled with water and floating foam sat waiting for her in the corner. Lavender oil warmed by the water scented the room. Fluffy towels hung on a vine rack by the tub. Tortoiseshell hair combs sat on a small wooden table. She assumed th
ey were meant for her use.
She pulled her hair up and secured it with the combs. Dropping her clothes in a heap by the tub, she stepped into the water. It was perfect, hot enough to melt away the stress but not hot enough to be unpleasant. She sank down until the water touched her chin.
From her bath, she saw the window and its tapestry covering pulled back. A view similar to the front room greeted her. The light levels streaming through the leaves changed gradually. The golden-pink she associated with dawn and early sunset at home slipped into a dusky purple. She recalled Ronan telling her the day and night here was reversed. A ray of soft light fell close to tub’s edge.
Cassy reached out to touch it. Her skin reacted instantly. It blistered and stung her fingertips, just as it if she stood in full sunlight. She jerked her hand back and cradled the wounded fingers to her chest. The magic humming in her core gave a panicked flutter and then settled. Ronan had been right. Daytime here presented a risk just like at home.
She finished her bath quickly and took great care to stay in the shadows. She eased her way to the window and pushed the tapestry covering closed. The room was dark. Several orbs hovering nearby increased their light output. She slipped on the pink gown and crawled between the smooth, cool satin sheets.
Her head sank down into the enormous down-filled pillow. Sleep overtook her instantly as her vampiric powers drained. David was the last image that surfaced before she fell into her dream. The images reminded her of early television, a little out of focus and grainy.
David was on his knees in the woods. Cassy recognized the spot as the place her portal once occupied. He wore an anguished expression of disbelief and pain. Witches stood around him looking crestfallen, staring at a spot just in front of him. Mills tugged at his arms, attempting to get him to his feet. He fought Mills to stay at his post and only stopped resisting when the gatekeeper arrived, casting a spell to subdue him.
Early morning rays broke through the forest around him. His skin blistered where the rays came too close. Several witches conjured a canopy over him and a fainted Liz. They were levitated and taken to the main house like a procession.
The dream skipped. The images of David and Liz blurred. A new image replaced them. A small, pulsing light of warm red radiated from a single point of origin at a distance. It came closer and rose above her head, hovering around her crown chakra. The light point lowered itself through her body, stopping at each of the other chakra points until it was even with her sacral chakra point, the place the warm humming magic resided in her waking self. The light infused the knowledge of its desires directly to Cassy, almost like the dream telepathy Ronan used. It wanted to descend but needed permission. She understood the permission needed to belong to David as much as it did her. The light sank deep within her body, hiding itself from view.
In the remaining dark, Mab’s laugh echoed. Lines from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream whispered in the background. The exchanges between Titania and Oberon arguing over a boy came to the forefront and then faded to the back.
Somehow, Cassy knew Shakespeare had it all wrong. He used fairies to tell the story, but the characters were elves, as was the boy they argued over. The child possessed elf parents but had been born with an anomaly. Oberon had wanted to keep the boy in Avalon. Titania feared the effect his influence might have on the other elves and his offspring. She deemed him tainted and sent him as a changeling to the living world. Oberon never forgave her. The battles between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts began.
Cassy woke with a start, her fangs extended. Someone or something had parted the ivy-covered door. The leaves gave a rattle as they moved. Light from the other room streamed in behind her visitor. Over the edge of the bed, she saw a tray making its way to the small wooden table balanced on the head of a small man slightly taller than a leprechaun.
“Evening! I have a tray for you. Ronan says you are to try the food. The magic of Avalon will curb your thirst, but you will need to eat something. Sorry. There aren’t any humans here. This will have to do!”
The orbs over her bed increased the light levels. Instead of a tall leprechaun, a satyr stood in her room. The tray had hidden his horns and the fold of fabric in his hands his legs and hoofs. He plopped the peacock-teal fabric on the end of the bed and walked to the window. His hoof made a tiny clicking sound on the wooden floor. He drew back the window tapestry.
Cassy cringed away from the light but relaxed once she saw the golden-pink hues greeting her. The safety of day had returned. It felt strange to hear the words “safe” and “day” run through her mind in the same sentence.
“I will leave you to get ready. Call, if you need anything,” the satyr said, clicking his way to the door.
“What do I call you, if I need anything?” Cassy asked.
“It’s Robin to most, Robin Goodfellow when I am in trouble, and Puck to you and my master.” He gave her a sly smile and left.
“Robin. Robin…Hmmm,” she pondered aloud. “Puck to you and my master, huh?”
A thought occurred to her like a lightning strike.
Holy Mother of Night! Ronan is Oberon!
Chapter 15
David awoke stiff, unable to move his arms and legs. He tried to talk but found his mouth also frozen. The curtains pulled themselves back, allowing moonlight to fill the darkness. The stiffness eased and made getting up possible.
He leapt out of bed looking around for Cassy. Her pillow lay smooth and fluffy. The spread was still tucked under and unruffled. She obviously had not slept in her room. He checked the bathroom. All he found was a cold, dry tub and fresh, folded towels. Her closet still held the same clothes hung in the same order as the previous evening.
His heart sank. He remembered the portal collapsing at sunrise. His beloved remained in Avalon without him, without a way for him to join her. He felt crushed.
His breathing hitched. Tear sprang to his eyes. It felt like a hard knot tied itself in his gut. Pain prickled along his skin from head to toe. Thirst burned his throat like a raging wildfire. Collapsing onto all fours, David tried to scream but all that came out was a rasping, garbled wheeze.
The side door that had once allowed access from the master bedroom to the sitting room between it and the yellow silk bedroom crashed open. Lady Helena’s eyes widened as she looked at him. He thought surprise and fear mingled together to produce an unfamiliar look on the elder witch’s face. Lady Helena stretched out a finger and began chanting.
The more she chanted the more the pain eased. His breathing improved enough to whisper a quick thank you. He thought he heard running footsteps in the hall.
“Stars above!” Lady Ursula’s voice shouted and then added to the chanting.
David felt himself lift off the floor like a ragdoll carried by a child by the neck. He drifted over the bed and felt his arms and legs drag along the top. He lowered until his back pressed against the mattress. The Ladies put him back to bed.
They stood over him. He heard them speak but did not bother trying to answer. He knew it was pointless. Besides, what difference did it make? Cassy lost her way home. Why should he ever care what happened to him again? The reason his moon rose and set was her. Only her. It had only ever been her. With each passing thought of her loss, he felt himself slide further into the depths of despair. He knew when he hit rock bottom, true death waited there to take him.
A heaviness washed through his mind like a Novocain bath, numbing everything into a state of nonbeing. The relief was instant and welcome. No feeling. No thinking. No hurting. Nothing. His body seemed to gain a thousand pounds in mere minutes. A haze filled the rest of his waking moments, making him euphoric. Then, sleep made all other thoughts impossible. The final image he took with him was Cassy in a pink cotton nightgown holding a pile of peacock-teal fabric. He sent her a final thought and then gave in to the slumber.
I love you, Cassy. You and no other for eternity.
* * * *
Cassy stroked the spider silk fabr
ic draped over one arm. It felt soft and supple. The rich peacock-teal made her pale hands look like marble. She gave the garment a sharp, snapping flip. A long tunic like Ronan’s unfurled like a sail. A pair of matching pants fell to the floor.
She shimmied out of the cotton nightgown. The tunic’s long sleeves hugged her like a second skin. The shirt body fit snug, but a slit at each side of the hem allowed flexible movements. The long pants reminded her of the martial arts uniform she wore to practice with Mills. No shoes meant padding barefooted around the room.
Stopping by the tray, Cassy took in its offering. She recognized the eggs, cheeses, and fresh fruit. However, there was a thick red porridge she did not know. Sniffing a spoonful, she thought she detected a hint of blood but not human blood. Animal, maybe? She sat the bowl down and perched herself on the edge of the bed.
A tightening in her middle preceded a wave of panic. Cassy grabbed her constricting throat as if she choked. The low, warm hum grew into a white, hot vibration. She wrapped her arms around her waist and bent double. Her throat itched, but the burning thirst did not present itself. A rippling of calm washed its way through her body, starting at her head and ending at her feet. Everything went back to normal.
David, she thought. She closed her eyes and concentrated on remembering his face and the sound of his voice. An out-of-focus image came to her, David asleep in their room. It was like a fading dream with no sound.
She relaxed. If he was asleep, the panic must come from his dreams. He seemed so peaceful. Almost too peaceful. The scene reminded her of finding Nadia, Alena, and Martina. He slept. She felt sure he was resting, but should he not be up? Just as day had come to Avalon, night had fallen back home.
Scion's Avalon [House of Dracul 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 12
