by Caris Roane
A soft vibration flowed over her entire body, full of desire and latent with power. More than at any other time in the past twenty-four hours, she felt in her bones she was a blood rose. Her destiny had come to her, maybe because of Ian, to provide a mastyr with blood rich enough to end forever his chronic blood starvation.
She was essentially a woman of service, so even if she hadn’t cared about Ian as much as she already did, she would have felt grateful to be able to help out.
Thank you, Regan. He lifted his gaze to her, his nostrils working like bellows as he continued to drink from her.
She smiled. “You’re welcome. It means a lot to me that I’ve taken away your pain.”
He suckled for another minute, then eased away from her wrist, though he didn’t seal the wounds. He was about to use his finger to paint the lines on his skin, from his wrist to his elbow, when she stopped him.
“Allow me.” The vibration grew stronger. “Can you feel that?”
He still held her arm in a gentle clasp. His color was heightened despite the chilly air on the deck. “I can. What the hell is this between us, Regan?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But I want you to seal the wrist wound. I think I need to do something else here.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Using his tongue, he swiped over the two punctures on her wrist and the small incisions faded to nothing. “What do you have in mind?”
She offered the index finger of her right hand. “Bite me here.”
His eyes rolled in his head at her not-so-subtle command. His scent sharpened and she loved it, loved he was so into her. She planted her left hand on his bare shoulder. “I need to create the marks, so make it good.”
“It’ll hurt.”
“I know, but I need a steady stream for this.”
His fangs descended once more and with a quick jab, he sliced open her finger. The sudden strike made her gasp, but she ignored the pain of the cut.
She slid her left hand down his arm and using her right forefinger, painted a slow line down the center of his forearm all the way to his wrist bone. Without Ian’s tongue to stop the bleeding, the cut flowed freely.
“Take some of this,” she said. “I want this to be right.” She held her forefinger up for him and he took it in his mouth, sucking once more. She didn’t stop him right away because she loved the look on his face, his eyes at half-mast, pupils dilated.
I need you, Regan.
She thought a clear intent would be best. I’m with you all the way.
He groaned softly. Tell me what to do. Is this enough of a mark?
She shook her head. “I’ll be making three on each arm, but I want to stop in between in order to keep the lines clean.”
She still held his arm as he nodded, then relinquished her finger. The blood flowed better because he’d suckled. As a vampire, he released chemicals when he drank to keep the body from healing the fang-wound until he was done.
She began the second mark, moving slowly down his arm. The line formed a slight angle to the original one. Once the line was complete, she stopped just as she’d said she would and had him suckle again. Each time, he got a hungry look in his eye which fed her own growing desire to be with him.
After a moment, she created the third line. When she was finished with his right arm, she repeated the process with his left.
When she was done, the same strange vibration flowed from her hand stronger than ever.
He stared at his arm. “I don’t recognize this vibration, Regan, do you?”
“No. It’s not familiar at all. But look at the lines. Sweet Goddess, what’s happening?”
Regan pulled his arm forward and peered at the stripes of blood. She’d expected them to melt, instead, they were transforming, shaping themselves into deep burgundy lines. “They look like tattoos.”
She had no idea if they were permanent or not, but her heart beat hard in her chest at the sight of them.
He caught her gaze. “You’ve marked me, Regan. Yet, somehow this has become more than just a simple warning to other mastyrs. And you’re dripping again.”
“What?”
He caught her finger in his hand and took it in his mouth.
“Oh,” she murmured softly. He needed to seal up the wound.
She felt knocked sideways by all of it, by the feel of the vibrations flowing between them yet centered on his arms, by the way he suckled, and because his forest-fern scent flowed over her now in heavy waves.
She felt his tongue touch the slice on her finger and the next moment, her skin knit together. She was relieved to have the sting gone, but at the same time, wished he would continue. She’d always loved it when Ian drank from her.
With the small wound sealed, he surprised her by pulling her into his arms and kissing her. And not a gentle pressure this time, but an invasion.
Sweet Goddess, how she loved his arms around her and his tongue in her mouth pulsing. For a good, long moment, she forgot everything, forgot the difficulties between them or that their enemy had a fortress in Camberlaune, no doubt preparing for invasion.
Instead, she allowed herself to savor Ian, the strength of his body, the sensual feel of his kiss, and his forest scent.
She could feel the markings on his arms as well, like another pair of arms, surrounding her, protecting her. But even as she experienced these things, she knew the marking bond wasn’t complete.
She drew back, holding onto both of his forearms. “We need to do something else.”
“Yes, we do.” He dipped down and tried to kiss her again, but she put a hand on his chest, chuckling softly. “Not that. I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but the marking bond isn’t complete.”
“What do you mean? It feels perfect.”
“Yes, it is. For you. But every fae sense I have tells me I need to do something else, something more.” She thought for a moment then she understood. “Oh, I see. Ian, you have to mark my arms in the same way I’ve marked yours, only using your blood this time. This will strengthen the shared vibration.”
He met her gaze. “I wish I understood what was happening here. Do you get this? The purpose of it?”
“Not all of it, though it feels very protective in nature. But I do sense the marks will increase each of our abilities, though in what way I have no idea.”
He nodded. “I would agree with your take on it because this vibration feels full of power.”
“Are you concerned about marking me in return? Does this feel like it will be too much of a connection between us?”
He slid his gaze away from her, no doubt exploring the vibration himself. Finally, he shook his head, reverting his gaze to her. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t have a sense this is about a bond, more like power we’ll be able to use.”
“I agree.” She then held out her arms to him and smiled. “Just do me, Ian.”
He held her gaze steadily and when a new wave of his earthy, erotic scent rolled over her, he added fuel to the fire by throwing a growl into the mix. Once more, his fangs emerged. Only this time he punctured the tip of his right index finger and began creating the trails as she had, first with a center line almost from the elbow of her right arm, all the way to the wrist bone, followed by angled lines down each side.
When he was done, he took both her hands in his, frowning. She understood why. The power she’d been feeling had doubled on them both. The vibrations raced up her arms and down her back, flowing from her hands and into his, then returning the journey.
“Holy shit.” He held on, his frown deepening. “Regan, what’s going here? Is this because you’re a blood rose?”
“I think so. And because you’re a very powerful mastyr vampire.” She thought it was an idea worth exploring, but his cell phone rang and he instinctively let go of her hands to retrieve it. With their physical connection broken, the vibrations drifted away as swiftly as they’d come.
“Hey, Ben,” he said, his cell t
o his ear. “Everything’s good here. I have Regan with me and I’ll be sticking close for a while, especially since she’s seen Margetta’s fortress and her army.”
He paused to listen to whatever Ben was saying.
Regan moved away, needing a moment to think. Whatever this was between them, it was happening fast and coming on strong. She felt dizzy with sudden concern. Nothing had truly changed between herself and Ian, just the strange blood rose phenomenon that had clipped her at the back of her knees.
She saw movement from the corner of her eye and shifted to see if an owl had flown out over the gorge. But what was actually there sent fear pummeling her heart. A red wind flowed down near the cliffs, the truest sign deadly wraith-pairs were headed their way.
She returned to Ian and waved her hand at him, drawing his attention back to her.
“Invictus,” she said, gesturing to the southern vista.
Ian followed the line of her arm. “I see the wind.” To Ben, he said, “I’m switching to telepathy. We’re in trouble here.”
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and she sensed he was now pathing to Ben.
Looking up at his face, she could see he stared out at the gorge, then slowly turned to view the farthest western horizon, the southern cliff, then the eastern flow of land in the direction of the Leberion Plain.
Finally, he turned to her. Regan, I won’t pretend we’re not in trouble. By my best guess, having fought the Invictus for centuries, we’re looking at twenty pair and they’re headed straight for us. Ben’s sending the Guard. Ten will be here in a few minutes, with an additional thirty arriving after that.
What do we do until then? she pathed.
Hold them off.
Even during the time they’d been together, she’d never been in a real battle situation with Ian. She felt his tension as though every muscle in his body was flexed, ready and waiting.
He lifted his arm, staring down at the blood tattoos. “Do you know what this means?”
She looked at his arms. Each line now pulsed. She lifted her own arms and it was the same thing, as though the marks were alive. “We’ve both agreed this is power, but I don’t know what it is or what I’m supposed to do with it.”
“Same here, but we’ll figure it out. Right now we have to hunker down.” He caught her arm and guided her back into the house, closing the sliding glass door and locking it.
He began moving furniture, pushing the sofas and chairs up against the curved windows. “The glass is bullet-proof, but with this many pairs, I don’t know what we’ll be up against.”
“Can I help? What about the steel shutters?”
“That’s next, because it will slow the enemy down. But most of the shutters are set at a distance from the house. Any of the Invictus can slip between.”
As he moved toward the foyer, he gestured with a quick wave of his hand for her to join him. She didn’t have to be told twice, but ran to his side.
He took her hand. “Stick close.”
“I will.”
Moving across the foyer, then turning into the hall leading to the bedrooms and the library, he opened the control box. He flipped the switch to override the automatic commands and pressed the shutter button. The sudden sound of the shutters lowering made her jump again as they had the first time.
The next moment, there was an awful banging on the steel, gaining in volume as more and more hands struck the metal. What followed was worse as several wraiths started to shriek in the horrible way the Invictus wraiths could.
“Oh, God.” She covered her ears.
But he took her hands away, forcing her to hear the thunder-like sounds. “You need to be strong, Regan. We’re in it right now and this noise is nothing; it’s only meant to frighten you, but don’t let it.” He kept hold of her right hand. “Okay. Back to the living room.”
“Why there?”
“Because if any of these Invictus have enough battle energy to bust down the windows, we’ll have room to fight.”
“We?” She swallowed hard.
He lifted her arm. “Do you see how your marks are pulsing? They’re matching mine and what I’ve accessed is my battle energy, the vibration I can release when I engage the Invictus. And I believe you’re also experiencing a ramped up version of battle power.”
Regan stared at her arms, then closed her eyes, shutting out the terrible din of fists striking steel. She wanted to know exactly what he meant and to feel the energy herself.
A new vibration had started to pulse and it had Ian’s signature. She was feeling his battle power as well as her own since every realm-person had essential battle ability. She’d just never accessed hers before.
Opening her eyes, she turned and gripped Ian’s hand. “You’re right. But what should I do? This is all new to me.”
He held her gaze tightly. “Go with your instincts every step of the way. When the time comes, you’ll know what action to take. Be strong.”
She deliberately straightened her shoulders and forced herself to grow calm.
In response, he offered a crooked smile, then kissed her once on the lips. “You’ll do.”
She hoped to hell he was right.
The pounding on the shutters and the shrieks of the wraiths got louder and louder then suddenly stopped.
“Did someone issue an order or something?” she asked.
“I’m sure of it.”
“I’ve always thought of the Invictus pairs as completely unruly.”
“Not anymore. Margetta has found a way to harness them, to control them.”
Suddenly, several Invictus pairs slid between the steel shutters and the bank of curved glass windows. The wraiths’ eyes glowed a fierce red hue and their bonded mates, whether troll or fae, vampire or shifter, appeared crazed. Each began to hammer on the glass for effect, to make noise to frighten them. A couple of massive shifters threw their weight against the windows. Their combined battle energies could have busted the bullet-proof glass, but noise was something wraith-pairs loved to make.
Ian held up his right hand and let his battle energy flow. He erected a massive blue shield in front of the two of them, his power crackling the air.
Regan wished like anything she had Olivia’s ability to create a shield of invisibility. But for all her power as the Ruby Fae and the realm knowledge she shared on a daily basis with her fae students, she couldn’t do much in a battle situation.
Just when she was sure it couldn’t get worse, she felt Ian tense up. “Shit,” he muttered.
“What? What now?” Glancing up at him, she followed the direction of his gaze.
Ian was staring at a large vampire and his bonded wraith. The woman levitated, her dark black hair writhing as though a strong wind swirled around her. She wore the red gauzy strips of fabric pieced together in a long gown-like garment, a design common among the female wraiths. The woman smiled, bearing sharp yellow fangs.
Her vampire mate wore only leathers and tough-looking black boots with steel toes. His heavily muscled chest was bare.
As she watched him, understanding came to her and she inched closer to Ian. The vampire was a mastyr. Because he was bonded with a wraith, he would have gained an extraordinary amount of power, well beyond Ian’s level.
If they’d been in trouble before, they were now close to the pit of hell. There was no question in her mind that this mastyr could defeat Ian.
“Holy fuck,” Ian murmured.
At first, she thought he was expressing his own dismay. Instead, she sensed it was something else. “Wait. You know him, don’t you?”
“Braden. He was one of mine and I thought him long dead. Looks like he’s been serving Margetta instead. I knew he’d coveted my position, and there’d even been rumors he’d bought some black market fae spells to ramp up his power. But he never succeeded in besting me or Ben for that matter. Now here he is.”
Regan watched in horror as Braden lifted both fists, his Invictus red battle energy glowing like fire over both ha
nds. He waved an arm and shouted an order. The frenzied Invictus pairs all slid away from between the windows and the steel shutters so that Braden and his hovering wraith stood alone behind the glass.
Braden summoned the full breadth of his power. He was a big vampire and all muscle, almost matching Ian’s size. His long, wavy black hair hung loose past his shoulders. With his lips pulled back over sharp fangs and his skin now a dark maroon color, he looked beyond ferocious, ready to kill.
Regan was surprised she wasn’t shaking like mad, except she felt something emanating from Ian, a kind of calm that could only come from a man who’d made war for centuries. In this difficult moment, she felt all that he was, the force of his will, his determination, and his stature as a Vampire Guardsman.
Despite Braden’s amplified power, because of the wraith bond, Ian knew what he was doing.
Ian pathed. This is damn good news, Regan. Braden wants to take me on alone. He could have commanded the field right now if he’d kept even two of the Invictus pairs close by. Instead, he’s throwing down the gauntlet.
Regan felt tears burn her eyes. Basically, Ian had just told her they now had a chance.
Thank the Goddess.
Amen to that.
He released her hand and moved to stand three feet in front of her, yet still twenty feet away from the windows. His blue battle shield shimmered the full length of the living room.
Stay well back.
She drew a deep breath. That’s the plan.
Braden, his battle vibrations at full-bore, planted his fists against the window, and let the same energy invade the thick glass. She watched large fissures form, then with another wave of power, a thousand smaller cracks.
One more burst of his energy and all the panels of the glass wall shattered.
When Braden levitated slowly, flying above the furniture to land not far from Ian’s blue shield, she knew then Ian had been right; Braden wanted to go mano-a-mano with Ian.
But could Ian hold his own long enough for Ben’s troops to get here in time?
~ ~ ~
“Come on, motherfucker. Bring it.” Ian’s vision had narrowed to the traitor who’d once served in his Vampire Guard, but who had since sold his soul to the devil.
