by Ava Benton
Which would explain his animal magnetism.
“No. Don’t go there,” I warned myself. It was time to focus on finding them again.
I started walking the perimeter of the room, or as far as I could get without running into the bed along one wall. I had walked that exact path enough times to wear down the floor. It was easier than going outside, where the rest of the team would want to know how we were moving forward—and likely throw in their own two cents, which only served to infuriate me.
Where would he take her? Not too far off, since he had no idea what the modern world was like. I tried to picture myself waking up after a hundred years and could only imagine feeling terrified with all the changes. He would need time to adjust to the new ways, unless they planned to spend all their time in the woods. The woods were timeless, especially where we were. I had seen entire towns which looked as though they hadn’t changed since before the Nightwarden went into stasis—well before.
Not that I minded. I’d never cared much for technology, and the people didn’t bother us as long as we didn’t bother them. Nothing irked me worse than curious townsfolk. We had run into many of them over the years. We had learned to keep ourselves even quieter than we once did.
So, it was likely they would stay in the woods. That narrowed my field of possibility down to, oh, hundreds of miles. Even thousands, perhaps, if they left the state. Like needles in an impossibly large haystack. I had never wanted so much to kill my sister as I did when I recalled how close I had come to taking him in before she messed it up.
We could back off, pull out, but the situation was still perfect for our purposes.
I would never find another Nightwarden so ideal. His service wasn’t sanctioned by the High Council.
They probably didn’t know yet that he was missing.
He was away from civilization, meaning there was little chance of being discovered. And his witch was just unbalanced enough that I could sway her into agreeing to give him up. I was sure of it. Hell, I was a Tracker and had been all my life. Who better to help her track this love of hers?
I had to get moving again and catch up to the two of them before they put too much distance between us. The only thing I knew with any degree of certainty was that they’d moved south from the location where I’d lost them.
I found that position on the map—two miles from the little group of sad, decrepit cabins we’d called home ever since I’d sensed the presence of another witch high up in the mountains.
I didn’t sense her now, even when I closed my eyes and focused all my attention, sending out my “invisible feelers,” as Mother used to call them.
My abilities had proven invaluable and were probably why I led the group instead of my sister. A sense of level-headedness worked in my favor as well, and so did the ability to lead.
Gwyneth didn’t understand that. She didn’t understand a lot of things.
Even so, I didn’t have a choice but to leave the group in her hands while I tracked on my own. It was always easier to do it alone—the others merely held me back, slowed me down, asked too many questions. It took more time to explain myself and the choices I made than it did to simply move forward and get the job done. I had tracked no fewer than five Nightwardens over the years, which put me miles ahead of any other Tracker since the time we began our quest.
Mother’s teachings ran through my head as I filled my canteens from a well behind the cabin—one of the few conveniences the spot contained, which wasn’t saying much.
Indoor plumbing would’ve been preferable. The day was warming up, and fine hairs stuck to the back of my neck as I turned the crank to raise the bucket. I could’ve made life much easier by applying magic, but that had never been my style. One of the few things Mother and I had never agreed upon. She never understood why I’d chosen to do things “the human way,” always wrinkling her nose when she said it.
Mother didn’t share the special abilities I had been honing since childhood and so had never understood how little acts of magic—hauling a full bucket of water from the bottom of a well, building a fire, cooking dinner—depleted my strength and made my “signal” weaker. I couldn’t sense the presence of other witches as easily.
None of us had been as evangelical on the subject of Nightwardens as Mother had, and she could preach on the subject for hours on end. I’d never forget the fire in her eyes, the zeal with which she spoke. They deserved their freedom from servitude. They deserved a clean, honest death and long-awaited rest. Our ancestors had been banished from their coven because of this evil, this disgusting misuse of magical power.
There was also the vampire’s lesser state of being when compared to witches. They weren’t fit to shine our shoes, much less guard our lives. We were the only ones we needed.
Entire branches of our bloodline had been guarding witches from behind-the-scenes for centuries, all without their knowledge. It was up to us to protect what was ours… even if it hadn’t technically been ours since Esmerelda died, back in Serbia.
Yes, Mother could rail on about history and our superiority, and I supposed it was my duty to carry on in her footsteps.
Gwyneth was better suited to that than I was. I would rather take action than flap my gums.
“Are you going back out?” My sister waited for me in front of the cabin.
We were practically twins except for our eye color—her dark, deep-set eyes looked little like my blue ones—and I wondered if my face looked the same as hers when I was irritated.
What did she have to be on-edge over? I was the one traveling away from the group.
“Of course. I can’t wait for them to move even further away.”
“I don’t like you going off on your own like this. Since when do you take such risks?”
“Since we currently have two factions watching over dozens of witches throughout New York and I would prefer the rest of you staying behind to watch over our camp. We’re stretched thin at the moment as it is.”
“You’re the one who thinks it’s important for so many of us to guard the covens right now.”
I whirled on her. “You’re testing the limits of my patience today, sister. Our kind has already experienced two close calls at the hands of sorcerers—no, not even close calls, seeing as how we lost one of our own when we should’ve been paying closer attention. I refuse to make a mistake like that again. Stay here, guard the camp, make sure everyone is aware of the fact that the High Council could show up at any moment, thanks to what happened earlier.”
I left without waiting for her response.
She was lucky I didn’t skin her alive for questioning me, especially when she knew I had to concentrate on finding Claudia and Alexander. They had to be nearby. It was only a matter of time, which was running out.
Damn her for distracting me, I thought as I stormed through overgrowth and nearly turned my ankle on a rock. A lot of good I would be with a sprained ankle.
Where are you, where are you? I stopped when I reached the place where I’d met up with the witch and her vampire pet, then checked my compass to be sure I was staring south.
They were out there somewhere. I only had to feel Claudia’s presence to know where to find them.
My eyes slid closed, and I let my thoughts reach out into the ether, spreading and stretching, knowing from experience that it was always better to let them go without trying to control them.
I had often made the mistake of forcing the process, trying to bend my abilities to my will.
And I had failed every time.
Not this time.
I felt her. Faint, but she was there.
I stepped forward with confidence and knew I would find her. And her slave. It was time for him to have the rest he deserved.
6
Alexander
“Are you finished yet?” I had never seen anybody eat that much at once, not ever. And I had known several witches who enjoyed their meals to the point of gluttony.
Claudia wasn’
t a glutton. She was starving. A little time spent looking closely at her made the bones of her shoulders, arms and chest stand out more clearly through her caramel skin. She had spent a lot of time in the elements, especially under the sun.
“I’m sorry. It’s been so long. I could never take down a beast like this,” she managed to choke out.
“Not even with magic?”
She shook her head, frowning as she swallowed. “There’s something about magic that turns the meat. I’ve never liked the taste of meat from an animal magicked into death.”
“There’s one thing we can agree on. I’ve never been able to stomach animal blood. I don’t know a vampire who could.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Which reminds me. You probably need to feed.”
I did.
The urge was strong enough to make it nearly impossible to think about anything else. I could almost smell blood flowing through her veins, calling to me, whispering my name, demanding that I take it. Drink it. Bathe in it.
Just her mentioning feeding was enough to make the breath catch in my throat.
“Yes,” I growled as my fangs descended.
She didn’t seem afraid. She accepted what needed to be done.
Oh, I hated myself. I cursed myself and would’ve damned myself to hell if I weren’t already damned for being what I was.
I didn’t want to need her. The more I fed, the closer our bond would be. The last thing I wanted was for us to be further entwined—except for not wanting to starve to death. Which I would if I didn’t feed. The need tore at me, taunted me, turned my stomach. I wished I could give into it wholeheartedly, with abandon, and simply be who I was meant to be without misgivings or second thoughts or self-loathing.
I went to her, falling to my knees by her side, taking the wrist she offered me with no misgivings, no doubt.
She trusted me not to take advantage of her, even as the thought of draining her dry and freeing myself of the torment she had thrown me into tugged at my consciousness. It would be so easy. Simply sinking my fangs into her flesh and opening her artery, letting the rapid beating of her heart pump the life-giving fluid into my mouth.
The more I drank, the more terrified she’d become and the faster her heart would race. The easier my feeding would be. The sooner it would be over.
It was impossible. A death sentence for both of us.
Someone was bound to find out what she’d done in freeing me—in fact, someone already knew.
Daniela.
The Tracker whose name and face hadn’t left my mind for more than a moment since I first saw her. She would see to it that I’d receive punishment.
So I exercised all the caution I could with the blood lust wrapped so tightly around my brain, consuming me the way it did.
I took my time, letting my fangs sink into her flesh, holding them there for a moment before latching onto her to catch the flow. And oh, what a glorious flow.
It made me alive; it gave me power and strength and the warm, sweet fire that surged through me with every swallow.
I closed my eyes and let it overtake me, the joy of giving into what I needed with every fiber of my being. The sheer glory of it, taking what she offered, what kept her alive. I swallowed again and again, sure I would never get enough.
Only when she moaned softly did I know I was going too far.
I shoved her away with a snarl, jumping to my feet and stepping back, turning my face from hers to keep temptation as far away as possible. Not nearly far enough, but it would have to do.
“Did I hurt you?” I managed to growl between gasps for air.
I sounded like a crazed animal, and I knew it. The sound of my breathing made me sick. If I could kill myself, I would. It would be better than the alternative of hating everything about my existence. Especially right then.
“No. I’m only a trifle weak now.”
“I should’ve controlled myself better. My apologies.”
It felt hollow even as I said it, and I could imagine it rang hollow in her ears, but she didn’t reply. She didn’t need to.
I could feel her response. Resignation, understanding. Pity? Yes. She pitied me.
Fierce, unbridled rage rushed through me and threatened to overtake my good sense.
“It’s what you need to do. I understand.”
“You understand nothing,” I snarled, claws out.
“Of course, I do. I can feel your conflict, and I’m sorry for it.”
“You’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you,” I warned, still with my back to her.
She finally obeyed my orders, falling into silence.
It didn’t matter.
I knew what she felt and wanted to tear her apart for it. No one pitied me, especially not a half-crazed, disgraced witch like her.
She wasn’t even smart enough to try to hide what she felt.
Once I had myself under control, I announced, “We have to move on. Now. That Tracker is sure to be on the hunt for us, and we’ve given her a lot of time to bridge the distance.”
“We moved so fast. Do you really think she’d be able to find us now?”
I turned away from her and put out the fire, covering it in dirt and leaves until the flames died. “If there’s one thing I know about you witches, it’s to never underestimate you. Especially one like her.”
“You think she’s special?”
“I think she’s different,” I admitted. “There’s something… else about her. Something other. I can’t put it into words.” I brushed my hands on the seat of my trousers and looked at Claudia.
Her face was blank except for a sly smile hinting at the corners of her mouth.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Only an inconsistency I thought I felt. I must have been mistaken.”
I suppressed a growl. Barely. “You must have been. There’s no time for banter. We must take shelter before the sun falls—it will be cold, and I’d feel much better if we were under cover rather than outside, in full view.”
She looked back and forth. “There should be an old hunting cabin not far from here, if you don’t mind a rather rough night.”
“Physical discomfort isn’t a concern for me. Where is it?”
“That pair of boulders.” She pointed. “Roughly fifteen minutes’ walk from those boulders. South.”
“Come. I’ll get us there.” I held out an arm.
Instead of pressing herself to me, she moved further away.
“What is it now?” I sighed.
“I would rather walk as normal. That sort of travel never held much appeal for me.”
“You mean when I use my speed?”
She nodded, and I looked her up and down.
“Fine. You’re the one who looks as though a strong wind would knock you down.”
“The wind has blown, yet I still stand.” She grinned as she walked away, leading me to the boulders and beyond.
I comforted myself with the reminder that I didn’t exactly relish holding her so close to me as I followed, looking in all directions.
There was no shaking the thought that she was following.
Daniela.
She could be anywhere. How was I supposed to trust when she pledged her loyalty to Claudia?
How was she going to keep my charge safer than I did? She was only a witch, and her body—while warm and full in places I hadn’t touched for centuries—was also soft and pliable and imminently breakable.
I’d thought that part of me was as dead as my humanity. For so many centuries, all there was for me was being a Nightwarden and sleeping away my latest imprinting deep within The Fold.
The Tracker’s body was the first female form I had been close to in all that time. It had never been much of a concern, since the only thing I’d truly lusted for was blood.
Physical passion meant little after Ralf turned me and started the second phase of my life. I hadn’t missed companionship or warmth or the pleasures of the flesh.
&n
bsp; Until just then. And every time I remembered the pressure of Daniela’s breasts against my chest.
“There.” Claudia pointed ahead, and I followed the direction of her finger.
The dwelling was only a cabin in the loosest sense of the word, nothing but a lot of gray, weathered boards leaning against one another.
“Can you—I don’t know—magic it into something a little better?” I asked as we continued our hike. It felt as though we were climbing straight up the face of a mountain.
“I thought physical discomfort didn’t mean anything to you,” she teased.
“I don’t enjoy being provoked.”
“Not many people do,” she pointed out. “But I’ll keep that in mind, for your sake.”
I wanted to tell her it was for her sake, not mine. I wasn’t the one who would be bled dry if I didn’t watch my tongue. However, I was tired of talking.
Conversation wasn’t my strong suit. Instead of replying, I watched closer than ever to be sure there were no eyes on us.
Where could Daniela hide? In the trees? I wouldn’t put it past her if she was desperate enough to track us down.
“I think we made it with no problems,” Claudia announced.
“Oh? This from the witch who didn’t know she’d been tracked for days,” I muttered.
She had the good sense not to argue the point.
The cabin looked no better close-up than it did from far off. The door was a door only by the broadest of definitions, in that it covered the doorway, only it sat across the opening rather than swinging on hinges.
I stood in front of her, holding up an arm to bar her way. “Wait here.”
She held up her hands and took a step back.
Good thing, too.
When I moved the splintered, rotted door aside and my eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the cabin, the first thing I saw was a pair of blue eyes.
Smiling blue eyes.
They belonged to a young woman with long, blonde hair, who sat cross-legged in the center of the floor.
“What took you so long?” Daniela asked.
7
Daniela
