It also whispered that there was much more to come—worse events that sent a chill through my body and blood. Gritting my teeth, I pushed down the dark dread that filled me and turned my attention to the room.
And then I saw him.
Julian—the bastard who had caused my family incredible heartache and devastation. He was the reason behind all of this. He was the one person responsible for tearing apart those I loved.
Like the coward he was, Julian was currently fleeing the room, his plan to kidnap my niece foiled—my newly born niece who had been whisked away in order to protect her.
What remained was my dying sister, bleeding out on the birthing bed having just fought off her former lover’s magical attacks. The effort had left her drained—her beautiful face bleached of all color, the twinkly lights I so loved in her eyes slowly fading.
I knew what needed to happen. I’d lived this before, and a smug sense of knowing pressed over me because I wasn’t going through this blind. I could do what the Fates required of me and then everything would be restored—price paid.
Easy, right?
Still, catching sight of Julian’s retreating back and knowing that he wasn’t slinking off like the coward he was to remain hidden for the rest of his pathetic life, lit a fire in my need for vengeance. He wouldn’t stay hidden. He would never give up his quest and thirst for power. Julian Blackwell was destined to return over a century later with his sights set on Darcy and then . . . he would rain down pain and horror upon everyone.
In my very long life, I’d never witnessed anything as gut wrenching as what he would do to Darcy. He’d almost broken my sister, but he’d ruthlessly set out to destroy the sweet niece I adored and had protected since birth.
I moved to grab him but he blasted me with magic, sending me crashing into the wall and crumpling to the ground. My fists clenched, knuckles cracking under the strain, and my body ached.
That’s when I realized—I was human again. My weary muscles were experiencing the very mortal reaction to being pummeled. It had been so long since I’d felt this . . . weak . . . vulnerable. A reminder of how often I took my vampiric strength for granted.
“Devlin,” Elynor croaked, her voice cracking under the strain.
My gaze was drawn to where she lay with Vivien working hard to staunch the bleeding. My heart whispered for me to quit wasting time. I was reliving this for a purpose and one of the most pivotal moments in my entire life was upon me . . . again.
The blood oath.
The promise I’d made with the utmost sincerity, to stand as a sentinel over the future generations until I found the child who received Eleanor’s magical legacy.
The reason I became the man I now was.
Suddenly, a new thought grabbed at my attention—tugged until it became a relentless assault demanding I honor it.
This all happened because of Julian. I knew what lay ahead and I could end it now. It was my head and body that pushed me toward the door, staring after Julian. Yes, in the past, I had ignored the bastard and spent Elynor’s last minutes holding her hand and assuring her I would do everything in my power to protect our family.
Now history was repeating itself.
History—if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was I didn’t need to chase after the bastard because I’d thankfully taken care of him already. The adrenaline from killing him, the coppery tang of his blood spilling on the ground, was a memory I savored . . . relished. It didn’t make up for all the damage he’d inflicted on others or the fact pursuing him had become a vengeful focus for so much of my existence.
The Fates had granted me the chance to rectify my inability to destroy him and now, now they were giving me another opportunity to clean up the mess he’d made.
That I had made due to my many failures.
“Devlin,” my sister once again pleaded, dragging me from my bitter musings. I had to trust Julian would meet his final demise in the future. Even though it went against everything inside me, there would be no chasing after him. That wasn’t why I was here. These next few moments were why. Everything had to remain as it was, no matter how viewing his retreating form twisted an angry knife in my gut. We were destined to meet another day.
The blood oath.
This was a solemn promise between brother and sister—family.
“I’m here, beloved,” I whispered, rushing to her side and taking hold of her hand. Vivien and the coven member who helped assist in the birth stood back. The frantic movements of those struggling to save Elynor’s life, to somehow keep Death at arm’s length, stopped. There was nothing more to be done.
She was dying and it felt like I was dying with her. After all these years—the memories that I’d kept guarded within my heart, and the healing I thought I’d completed melted away and pain ricocheted through me as though this was my first time experiencing it. Tears filled my eyes and a thick lump made it almost impossible to swallow around.
I knew what was coming.
I’d lived this before and yet it was still on the tip of my tongue to order Vivien to keep trying, to not stop until Eleanor’s last breath left her battered, damaged body.
I stroked away an errant strand of hair that was damp with sweat. “I am so sorry,” I added. Already grieving the paleness of her features and the way her eyes seemed like they were already crossing the bridge into the afterlife. I wasn’t ready for this. I would never be ready to say goodbye.
“There is nothing to apologize for, brother mine. I promise, I leave with no regrets.” The last part of her words came out with a series of crackling coughs. It wouldn’t be long.
I glanced once more at Vivien in an unspoken plea. She shook her head, her own eyes filled with tears, many spilling down her cheeks and she wiped her bloodied hands over the apron she wore. We would later recount this moment, agonizing over whether there was more we could’ve done. There wasn’t.
But guilt was guilt.
We would second-guess these decisions with the hope that, over time, the pain would lessen and heal.
Turning back to my sister, I offered the only smile I could. It was weak but it was the best I could do.
“She’s beautiful, Elynor,” I added. Ignoring how feebly she squeezed my hand. “On my honor, I will care for her and see that she always knows how brave and perfect her mother was.”
Her hand rose slowly and I leaned forward to allow her to cup my face. “I am far from perfect, Devlin, but thank you. Knowing she won’t be alone once I am gone brings me comfort.”
“I can bring her to you now that Julian has left.” Vivian approached the bed, standing on the other side from where I sat. “Hold your child. Name her. Grant her a blessing before . . .” Her voice trailed away as fresh tears fell.
“If the Goddess would grant such a wish, I would freely ask it but I don’t have much longer, my dearest friend and mentor. My moments are numbered.” As if to prove a point, her breath rattled inside her chest and her hand fell limply back to the bed. “Devlin—”
“I’m here,” I uttered. Damned if I didn’t feel a sense of urgency—a frantic need to somehow stop time.
“Mother and father won’t understand. I know this will break their hearts. I need you to help them understand. I couldn’t have them here because of Julian. I couldn’t have born it if they were also hurt because of my weak and foolish heart.”
I nodded, agreeing that I would even though I didn’t have the words—wouldn’t have the words. “I’ll do my best.” And I would. Until their own last breaths, I would say whatever they needed to find peace over losing their only daughter.
“Tell them I love them. That I will continue to love them, and that I am so sorry for failing them.” A ragged sob escaped my mouth yet she wouldn’t let me speak. “Do not argue. This is not how I envisioned my life, but how can I regret it? My Lucinda is in the world now. She is my legacy . . . my hope . . . my gift.”
Lucinda.
Lucy.
She was everythi
ng that made my sister extraordinary.
“I promise.”
Eleanor closed her eyes, happy that I had agreed so easily. She knew me well. She knew our entire lives were spent with me acting the over protective brother, often fighting with her when her choices didn’t match my own. “Thank you.” With a strength I would later see in Darcy, Elynor gripped the soiled sheets and pushed herself into a sitting position. For the briefest of seconds hope flared in my heart, wondering if —in an act of mercy—the Fates had restored her health.
The action drained what little color remained in her cheeks. This wasn’t a revival. It was the brief respite in the eye of a storm. Elynor had just enough energy left for one last thing and all I wanted to do was scream for her to summon Lucinda.
But she wouldn’t. The sharp inhale of breath was the same as before. She was ready, the spell forming in her mind. With Vivien still in the room, my sister had all the power necessary for the blood oath.
“Promise me, Devlin.”
And so it began.
“Anything.”
“Find a way to protect whoever will receive the magic I sent into the future. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I fear for them. Julian . . . he is relentless. He will find the vessel and I couldn’t bear leaving this world knowing that, in protecting my sweet daughter, I have sealed a horrible fate on someone else.” This time she loosely gripped my hand. “Promise me, brother. I can’t go without hearing you utter you will.”
How could I possibly deny her anything?
“I give you my most solemn vow.” Reaching for the knife used to cut the baby’s cord, I slashed it across my palm. “A blood oath. Unbreakable until you release me from it.”
Vivian gasped, shocked that I would reference one of the most powerful vows given. Eleanor’s eyes widened, but she simply nodded. She understood what was at stake and, even though she believed my oath was almost impossible, she knew I’d never give it lightly. She understood I would have to dive headfirst into the supernatural world in order to honor it . . . a world she’d been adamant I kept my distance from. To her, I was still a mere human with no powers of my own.
“I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe—my life for theirs. Everything that I am and will become . . . I swear I will not rest until Julian has been wiped from this earth.” There was no doubt in my words, no fear wavering in each syllable. This was as true now as it would be when Darcy was born and signs of Elynor’s magic finally appeared. “Trust me.”
“Oh, I do, brother. I just wish such an oath wasn’t required.” Reaching for the knife I’d dropped beside her, she sliced her own palm with shaking fingers. “Vivien, please help. The room is dimming. My time draws nigh.”
Refusing to tear my gaze from her face, I listened as Elynor and her teacher performed one last rite together, speaking only when necessary, holding our hands together when my sister’s strength faltered.
A torn strip of bed sheets was wrapped around our wrists, binding us together. Blood dripped. Electricity built and gathered within the room, cocooning us with magic.
Blood to blood
I pledge to thee
Until the end of time
And of this oath I am freed
I pledge my life
I honor this task
To protect this child
And all you ask
With this magic
I bind my soul
Grant me the strength
To honor thy goal
My life for theirs
I sacrifice freely
I pay the price
So mote it be.
With each part of the incantation, something stirred inside me. The oath slowly took root in my soul—a familiar presence I would, from this moment, carry with me. It was what fueled my determination to follow through with what I knew was destined to happen.
Good intentions that would pave my personal road to Hell.
“So mote it be,” Elynor whispered faintly. “I love you, brother. I am so proud to be . . .” She became silent, her eyes closing.
“Elynor.” I let out a strangled cry. I needed more time to say everything left unsaid, hold all the conversations we would never have. “Please don’t leave me,” I muttered, kissing the back of her hand.
She seemed to rally. “I’ll always be with you, Devlin. In the wind . . . the quiet moments . . . I’m always watching over you.” A fat tear escaped the corner of her eye and I caught it with my thumb.
“Please?”
“Be brave. I sense the oath you made will be a hard one to honor and I am too selfish to refuse it. Go in peace.” This time she turned to Vivien. “Help him. He cannot face the future alone. However you both survive the days ahead . . . do it together.”
“Always,” Vivien promised and we both watched on as Elynor relaxed into the bed, her body releasing the tension she’d held. “Let go, my friend. Let the Goddess take you home.”
My sister’s spirit left the world in reverence and hushed tones. We whispered cherished memories and once again shared our unshakeable love in each other. A soft smile graced her lips as she drifted into death.
When the silence threatened to crush me, my grief as real and overwhelming as the first time I’d witnessed her passing, I spoke the exact same sentiment I’d uttered before. “How am I to do this?”
“Together,” Vivien answered, drawing in her own deep breath as she straightened. “We do this together.”
I nodded. “Then we start once we’ve said our proper goodbyes.”
Planted firmly on the path the Fates had chosen, there was no other choice but to move forward.
Into the future.
Into events that would later define me.
Into darkness.
CHAPTER THREE
The sound of my shovel breaking through the soil echoed in my mind. It was yet another thing that I’d remembered these many years—the incessant scrape as the shovel’s blade split the ground, my wrists twisting to drop the dirt next to what would become Elynor’s grave.
I couldn’t remember how many burials I’d participated in, but this one marked the beginning of what I viewed my new life. In a sense, I was also preparing the earth for myself. Though I continued to live and breathe, the path on which I was about to embark ensured I not only honored my newly pledged blood oath, but that the future I’d hoped and dreamed of was forever beyond my reach.
Memories from an hour earlier filtered through my mind—my mother’s anguished sobs causing my hands to shake. I’d stood witness to many things—some wondrous and others painful. It all paled in comparison to the heartbreaking grief that shattered the peace when I told my parents that their only daughter had passed away after giving birth to their grandchild.
There were no words.
There were never the right kinds of words for such an occasion.
With gaping mouths, they listened as I spoke quickly, choosing not to prolong the agony or sugar coat the truth. There was no real way to soften the devastating blow, but I tried to do so as gently as possible.
In all the days to come, the sight of my father barely able to hold up my mother as her legs seemed to crumble beneath her would haunt me.
Many things would linger—tormenting the tight control I held over my past. At the first sign of weakness, my mind always thrust me back to the very scene I’d just left. Parents should never have to bury their children. So, with a heavy heart, I’d backed out of the room so they could find solace in each other.
Parts of me demanded that I stay there and give voice to the battering storm of emotions swirling inside me, but it was fresh for them. I’d had countless years to find a way to breathe through the pain.
I considered remaining outside until darkness forced me inside. Guilt ate at me, even now. There was more I could’ve done. I should’ve been able to protect Elynor from that monster, Julian Blackwell. I’d failed her just like I’d eventually fail her descendant, Darcy.
Regret and condem
nation kept me from joining my family.
It’s what drove me to the cemetery where we’d laid Elynor to rest the first time I’d lived this nightmare.
It was the reason I returned now, shovel in hand.
Wiping at the sweat that beaded my brow, I let out a weary huff of breath. This never got easier. For the second time, I silently wondered what it would be like to simply jump into the grave, lie down, and follow my beloved sister.
The words of the blood oath drifted back.
With a swift jerk, I planted the shovel into the disturbed dirt and took a seat on the ground. Tears still threatened to escape but I wouldn’t allow them. There would be plenty of time to grieve, to feel. Too much was at stake and I couldn’t let myself become distracted.
But that’s what I was—distracted, discouraged, and racked with doubt. I’d barely begun the path to my darkest moment and I was being destroyed piece by piece. It didn’t help that I knew, just knew, that this wasn’t what the Fates had selected as payment. They weren’t known for their mercy and what I’d requested was no small favor.
With each heavy shovelful, I tried searching through years of recollections, hoping to pinpoint the precise moment they’d chosen. With each thought my anxiety grew because I was spiraling toward one fateful event—a time of such darkness I’ve always been surprised I’d survived it.
I would become a monster.
I would become the very thing I’d later hunt and destroy.
I would become someone from whom even the Devil would flee.
“Son?” I should’ve remembered he’d followed me here, not wanting to let me face this task alone. It hadn’t stopped my father from surprising me with his arrival.
“You didn’t have to come. Mother needs you and this is my responsibility.” I left it at that. True, there was someone whose task was digging graves, but I’d asked to do the honors.
“Vivien came to the house and is sitting with her. She brought some of the herbs Elynor talked about—” His voice cracked and his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight. I swore my father aged ten years in the span of time it took to utter his daughter had died. Gone was the vital, vigorous man I’d worshipped since I was old enough to walk behind him. Weariness seemed to hang off his body like a cumbersome coat. He no longer stood tall, instead shrinking into himself.
Blood Oath (#8, the Mystic Wolves) Page 2
