by A C Warneke
“Well, as you can see I’m fine,” he bit out. He started to turn his attention back to Taella but Malorie’s pained gasp twisted something up inside him and his head whipped back to her. His son had sunk his teeth into Malorie’s throat and he was drinking deeply while her eyes were closed and her forehead puckered in agony. “Malorie.”
“It’s fine,” she gasped in obvious pain, waving his concerns aside with no thought about her own safety or what it did to him to see someone else, even his son, drinking from her. “He needs the sustenance. Worry about Taella… just don’t kill her.”
Tearing his eyes away from his mate and son, he forced himself to focus on Taella. Her smirk worried him. She was acting as if she wasn’t going to pay the price for her abhorrent crimes against Aradians, against Varick, even though drinking the blood of a fellow Aradian was tantamount to cannibalism. Narrowing his eyes, he shook her again but she simply smiled, making him growl, “What do you have to smile about?”
“I’m not powerless,” Taella grinned. “You’re little boy provided so much more than nourishment, my dear. I can see why the elders frowned down upon the sharing of blood between our kind.”
“It’s toxic.”
“Not the blood of Varick,” she taunted. “The Breeder-born son of the first Breeder-born Aradian. You should have known he was special, Feryn, instead you coddled the boy and made him weak.
“You’re dead.”
She chuckled, her eyes lit with foolish mirth. They still weren’t dull like other vamp-mad Aradians but they were no longer as bright as they had been before he wiped out all of her vampires. Why had he never seen the madness beneath the illusion? How was Malorie able to see it when he couldn’t? “Your little whore will hate you if you kill me.”
“No,” Malorie protested and both Feryn and Taella looked at her. Gently pushing Varick away from her neck, she made sure he was stable before she nodded in satisfaction. Facing Taella, she squared her shoulders and met the Aradian’s eyes without flinching even as she held her hand over her throat. “I don’t want Feryn to have the stain of your death on his soul. I’ll do it.”
Taella gasped as a tremor worked its way through her slender body. Before Feryn had a chance to process Malorie’s words, Taella raised her hand and swiped a blade across his face, slicing him open from cheek to chin. As Malorie screamed, he hissed in pain and dropped his hold on the woman, who didn’t hesitate before taking off at a dead run.
“Feryn!” Malorie cried, abandoning Varick and rushing to his side. Her arms wrapped around his waist to hold him steady but it wasn’t necessary because he was already healing. The attack had just been a surprise, a diversion for Taella to escape.
Furious with himself, he pushed away from Malorie, not wanting her warmth or concern at the moment. He should have seen Taella’s madness, he should have listened, and having his mate close made him aware of his weaknesses, her being chief amongst them. She had seen Taella for what the Aradian was and tried to warn him and he had ignored her, time and time again. No wonder she went behind his back. “I’m fine.”
Her hand pressed against his cheek to see the damage but he had no time because he had to get to Taella. Without her connection to his son, they’d have no way of finding her and she would amass a new vampire army to devour the world, an army who wouldn’t abide by the rules he had laid down after his son’s death. “Stay here.”
He knew his coldness hurt her, he could feel it in his soul, but he had to find Taella before she disappeared. Part of him was glad that Malorie suffered because then maybe she would understand how much it hurt when she went behind his back, when she refused to listen to him when he only had her best interests in mind. As he blindly ran through the caverns looking for a woman who knew the place far better than he, his brother’s words kept echoing in his head, I want a Breeder.
Malorie would have been Jiro’s if things had worked out any other way. Feryn doubted Jiro would have appreciated her because he had never known genuine loss. She would have been bound and used until she was broken and the thought of a broken Malorie made him physically sick. Without Malorie and her passion and determination, his son would have suffered for eternity while Taella grew a vampire army to take over the world.
Renewed anger surged through him, fueled by Taella’s unforgiveable betrayal. The lying bitch allowed him to believe his son was dead. No, she had wanted him to believe it, guessing that in his sorrow he would move on to the Otherworldly Planes. Once he was gone, she would have been able to amass a vampire army while hiding her madness behind Varick’s blood. Then she would have challenged Jiro to the throne and Feryn was very much afraid that she would have won. Their once proud race would have been destroyed from within, the vampire rot too much to ever recover from.
He should have taken Malorie’s concerns more seriously instead of dismissing them because he believed Taella was the same as any other vamp-mad Aradian, all of whom still suffered from the vampire annihilation from six years before. As they slowly crawled back from the hell they had created, they were barely able to function. But they hadn’t been feeding off Varick.
A piercing scream rent the stifling air and his heart sputtered to a stop in his chest. Malorie! The foolish girl never knew when to stay put! Sprinting through the halls, he tried to keep his thoughts from racing out of control. The last time she had a confrontation with Taella, his foolish mate had almost died, but it hadn’t been at Taella’s hands. No, the Aradian had left the dirty work to her vampires, keeping her hands clean as she disappeared back into the night.
But it hadn’t been Malorie who had screamed. Of course it hadn’t because there was no way she could have gotten past him. It had been Taella.
The moment he came upon his son and Taella, Feryn skidded to a halt, bending over to release the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Varick’s long fingers were wrapped around Taella’s slender neck and he held her in the air as the woman’s eyes were wide with terror. Her fingernails dug into the tender flesh of Varick’s wrist but he didn’t even flinch. For the first time since he found his son in the caves, Feryn saw how much Varick had changed.
Varick had always been slender but now he looked gaunt, his limbs long and thin with a scary elegance that belied everything he had been through. The easy smile that had always graced his face was long gone and in its place was a dark, cynical grimace. Varick’s green eyes were burning with righteous fury as he squeezed his fingers together and hissed, “You stole my life.”
“Yes,” Taella breathed, trying to twist out of his hold, her legs flailing as she kicked at him. “But now you have it back, my love. You should be grateful.”
“I’m not your love,” Varick ground out, ignoring the painful kicks against his shins, his thighs. As Feryn watched, the wounds in Varick’s skin closed and began to heal. Unnatural strength surged through Varick’s broken body as he seemed to grow in size.
Slender fingers pressed against his back and without looking Feryn knew that Malorie had followed him again, disobeying him once again. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not while his son was about to cross a line by taking an Aradian’s life. No matter how desperately Taella deserved to be killed, he had enough sense now to know she had to be interrogated. He would see to her execution after taking measures to make sure something like this never happened again.
But Malorie was still there, tugging at his shirt. Fury towards his mate welled up in his chest as she continued to ignore his wishes. If he looked at her he was afraid of what he might do, either take her in his arms and kiss her into compliance or spank her luscious ass.
Fortunately for his sake, Jiro came stumbling into the chamber at that moment, clutching his head and looking worse for the wear. His skin was pale beneath all of his piercings and he was unsteady on his feet but Feryn didn’t care because his brother could deal with his wayward mate. “Jiro, take Malorie home. Now.”
Jiro nodded, stumbling across the way until he reached them. In a low v
oice, he uttered, “It was a trap, Feryn.” Nodding his head towards the woman who stood behind him, Jiro sneered, “She took advantage of the situation and made her escape while I was unconscious. Forgive me for failing you.”
“It’s not your fault,” Feryn bit out, wishing Jiro and Malorie would leave so he wouldn’t have to worry about his mate’s safety while he dealt with Taella and Varick. “Just take her home.”
“But, Feryn,” Malorie whispered, disobeying him even now. Pulling at his shirt, she silently demanded his attention but he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off of the drama playing out between his son and Taella, even for her.
“Go!” he roared. He could feel Malorie flinch behind him and he almost relented. It would have been foolish to show any weakness to the enemy and after everything the Aradian had done, Taella was his enemy. There was a quiet whoosh and the two of them were gone, thank the fickle gods.
He stepped towards the charged standoff but froze when his son whipped his head around and glared a silent warning. Holding his hands up, Feryn murmured, “Varick.”
Ignoring Feryn, Varick turned back to Taella and smiled a cold and cruel smile as he pressed his face even closer to her face, “You’ve always underestimated me, Taella, keeping me prisoner, torturing me, starving me and using me for your own power and gratification.”
“I only did that because I love you,” she crooned in a sultry tone, running her fingers lightly over his ribs.
Varick chuckled but there was no humor in the sound. In a low rasp, he asked, “Do you want to know how I escaped?”
If possible, Taella’s eyes grew even wider as she slowly shook her head no. “Your father found you.”
“Yes, but I left a trail of bread crumbs for him to follow,” Varick taunted. Reaching up, he ran a finger along Taella’s jaw line, almost in a lover’s caress except for the hatred that burned in his eyes. “Once upon a time, there was a girl who went around the world killing vampires. One day, she came upon a vampire that wasn’t an ordinary vampire. In fact, he wasn’t a vampire at all. This vampire who wasn’t a vampire was injured and this girl selflessly offered him her blood. A bond was formed, a secret bond that the vampire who wasn’t a vampire hadn’t realized until he was starved almost to death.”
Taella sucked in a stunned gasp, echoing Feryn’s silent shock as his son continued to tell his story. “He bided his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity and finally one presented itself so he set his plan into motion. ‘It’s Christmas, mistress. Don’t you think your vampires deserve a special treat?’”
“No,” Taella breathed, seeing where the story was leading.
“Yes,” Varick countered. “You’ve told me often enough that my father is always present at these feedings and you loved rubbing it in his smug face that you could create vampires and not lose yourself in the process. But you’ve been lying to yourself, Taella, because it never even occurred to you that the one who held the string at the end of the maze would use it to bring you down.”
Frantically, Taella shook her head no, clawing at Varick’s hands, his arms, in her desperation to break free. Varick’s grip tightened, cutting off her blood supply and making her face turn purple as he continued in a conversational tone, “You see, when that vampire who wasn’t a vampire bonded with the vampire hunter, he made an astonishing discovery: the girl was his father’s mate and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the two of them found one another. Being captured, tortured, used and abused, was a small price to pay to bring the two halves of the Aradian whole together if only because it would mean the end of you.”
Varick squeezed his fingers together and in that moment, Feryn understood Malorie’s determination to spare a loved one the self-destructiveness of murder. Stepping forward, he put his hand on his son’s shoulder, “Varick, ease your grip.”
“She deserves to die,” Varick growled, not relaxing his hold even though Taella was no longer conscious.
“Yes,” Feryn agreed, reaching out and gently prying Varick’s fingers away from Taella’s throat. Violent purple bruises marred the pale flesh and if she had been human, she would have been dead. The traitor crumbled unconscious to the floor and Feryn took his son into his arms, “You’re alive.”
A low sob came from Varick’s throat as he collapsed in his father’s arms, “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come for me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Feryn rasped in an emotion choked voice as he held his son for the first time in six years. Holding onto Varick, he wrapped a fist in Taella’s hair and brought the three of them back to his rooms at the compound. He deliberately stayed away from his mate while he dealt with Taella because he was too close to losing control and she would have pushed him over the edge, unintentionally or not.
Binding Taella, imprisoning her in her own mind until he could figure out what to do with her, Feryn took care of his son, cleaning him up and healing his wounds both old and new. Varick stared vacantly with wide eyes, taking everything in and seeing nothing and Feryn cringed with the horrors of what the boy had gone through. Holding up a straight edge razor, he murmured, “I’m going to shave this monstrosity off your face.”
Varick’s lips quirked upwards in an almost-smile but he didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at nothing in particular. Keeping his movements slow and deliberate so he didn’t startle his son, Feryn trimmed the excess hair before he lathered his son’s face, his thoughts racing a million miles an hour with questions and self-recriminations. He had failed his son and he didn’t know what to say and the one thing that might drag his son out of his stupor was the one thing Feryn couldn’t talk about. Malorie.
Swallowing down the guilt and doubts, he slid the blade across his son’s cheek, taking the black hair away and leaving behind smooth, pale flesh. He had to stop a few times when his hand began to tremble but soon enough his son was clean-shaven. Varick looked so young and vulnerable, except for his eyes which were ancient with all that he’d been through. “You need to eat.”
Once again, Varick’s lips quirked in that little half-smile but he remained silent, as if he had used all of his words telling Taella his story. Standing, Varick stretched his long limbs, his bones protruding from his taut flesh, his muscles nearly wasted away. There was an ethereal beauty, an innate grace, about him even if it was painful to see. Feryn remained motionless as Varick made his way around the rooms.
Picking up one of Toby’s wooden airplanes, Varick looked at Feryn and arched an eyebrow, that slight smile ever present. Clearing his throat, trying to brace himself for the agony of discussing Malorie, Feryn said, “That belongs to Malorie’s child.”
The eyebrow arched higher and the smile grew and Feryn felt the heat rising into his cheeks, though he wasn’t sure why he was blushing. “A little boy who just turned six… um, Toby.”
Carefully, Varick set the toy down and continued strolling around the room. It was pretty much the same as it had been before Taella faked his son’s death because Feryn hadn’t cared enough to change anything. He had given Malorie free rein to put her own mark on the place but so far, the only thing she’d done was change all of the security measures. Chuckling to himself, he murmured, “It would have been nice if you had found me a less combative mate, Varick. Malorie is… well, she is impossible.”
Varick simply raised that eyebrow in response and Feryn wondered how long the boy was going to remain silent. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he shook his head and smiled, “She’s nothing like I have ever expected and yet everything I need. It’s… disconcerting.” Facing his son, he lowered his voice, “She brought me back to life, son, and right now I am so angry at her I could tear the universe apart. She has upset all of our plans and I don’t know what to do with her.”
~Malorie~
Malorie stepped away from the door when she heard Feryn’s words, her blood pounding through her veins. It’s not that she purposefully kept disobeying him, not about everything, but she also wasn’t one to wait around f
or something to happen. Her father trusted her enough to take her on hunts from the time she was eleven years old and it wasn’t in her to stay behind, no matter the danger. But for Feryn’s sake, she would have tried.
Except, she had been terrified when Jiro had slumped over after Feryn fucked her brains out and then went off to find his son. Jiro had been taunting her about her having sex in front of him but she hadn’t cared because she had been so utterly relaxed she didn’t think anything would bother her ever again. But then he had abruptly stopped talking and all of her senses flared up with warning and she knew Feryn was in trouble. How could she live with herself if she hadn’t done everything in her power to make sure he stayed safe?
So she had followed him, using the route that she knew so well even though she’d never travelled it. When she saw him and how close he was to the edge, she couldn’t let him kill Taella, especially when she knew what it did to him when he had to take an Aradian life, no matter how justified. She had been more than willing to bear that burden, especially once she saw Varick in real life and not just her dreams. His body was even more wasted, more starved, more abused, than he had shown her in her dreams and in that moment she was fully capable of ripping the Aradian bitch’s head off. Freeing him from his bindings had been awful because the rope had eaten into his flesh and when she untied each knot the old wounds were torn open. Every time he winced she had wanted to cry.
It had been a relief when Varick had sunk his fangs into her throat to regain some of his strength. Unfortunately, he hadn’t closed the wound when she had pulled away to go to Feryn’s side and it hadn’t even occurred to her that there might be a problem until after Feryn told her to stay put. Of course, the jerk couldn’t be bothered by her or the fact that she was still bleeding, not that she blamed him when she saw the wrath emanating from Varick as he held Taella’s life in his gaunt hands.
