Blood Oath (#8, the Mystic Wolves)

by Belinda Boring

  Try as I might, I couldn’t muster the particular shock and curiosity he expected. “It doesn’t seem quite as far fetched considering my sister is—” My voice caught and I corrected my painful mistake. “—was a witch. I have a friend who’s a powerful seer and I met a Fae Queen. Do you honestly believe I am that shakable that testing the limits of my imagination further would break me?” I chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Besides, earlier you said there would be plenty of time for you to answer my questions should more arise.” I’d offered the usual, expected ones when he’d first began talking, but I guess he still wasn’t convinced I fully understood the enormity of his revelation.

  “I wish all humans could be as calm as you, my friend. In the few occasions I’ve had to step in when others discovered the truth, there have always been two predictable outcomes: they either run away screaming of monsters or they vow to hunt us down and wipe us off the face of the Earth. Yes, we are predators, but we are no threat to mankind unless they first attack. We only defend what is ours and our right to live as we choose. At least, it is that way for me and mine. It’s how this Pack has always been governed.”

  “Spending this time with you has shown me that,” I said, hoping this would quiet his concern. “Perhaps that’s why I’m not as rattled as you expected. I know you, Sullivan Kilgrave . . . the man you are. The beast within you doesn’t change that. After seeing how you use your . . . gift . . . I don’t fear you. Your secret is safe with me.”

  He placed his hand over his heart. “Then I vow you this—at any time, should you need me all you need do is ask and I will be there. No matter what. You are hereby an honorary member of this Pack, with all the rights and privileges that entails.”

  I wanted to order him to take that back, that he didn’t understand the gravity of his pledge. He didn’t know that one day soon, I would be forced to take advantage of that . . . that in a state of blind blood lust, I would reap those benefits and destroy him with it.

  “Sullivan,” I whispered. “My friend, you don’t know what you say.”

  “Oh, but I do. You’ve proven yourself a valuable friend and someone I know I can always rely on and trust. My word is as good as my bond. I mean it . . . ask and if it is within my power to give it, it is yours.”

  Words that should’ve filled me with confidence made me miserable. Unable to speak, I simply nodded my thanks.

  “You should go. The journey to Bath is long and the sooner you depart, the safer you will be.” The irony was I was in the least amount of danger here.

  “One day I will tell you what business brought me to your door,” I promised. “When the time is right.”

  Sullivan grinned, squeezing my shoulder. The dark circles beneath his eyes did nothing to hide the glimpse of my friend who’d disappeared under the weight of last night’s tragedy. “I didn’t want to push, but I was tempted to say that now that I’ve shown you mine, perhaps you could return the favor. I’ve been curious about what’s so important that you rarely speak about it.”

  “In time, my friend,” I repeated. Slowly, we made our way outside where Verity and Vivien waited by the carriage they’d arrived in. With our luggage already stored, we said quick goodbyes and began the next part of our journey.

  “Don’t hesitate to write should you need me,” Vivien added, accepting Sullivan’s thanks for her help. “I’ve left a list with Joshua and the name of another healer who could come if needed. Annabeth should be out of danger but I would rather be overly cautious than unprepared.”

  He nodded and offered her a respectful bow. “I can never repay you for your kindness, Vivien. You will always be welcome in my home.”

  Turning next to Verity, he kissed the back of her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Sullivan stepped closer to whisper in her ear, loud enough that we could all still hear him. “Take good care of Devlin. He was lost without you.”

  She chuckled as a blush crept across her cheeks. “Truth be told, so was I.”

  Exchanging one last hug, I stepped into the carriage after the two women, closing the door behind me.

  “Don’t do anything reckless,” I admonished, trying to sound stern. “Protect yourself and don’t underestimate Balthazar. He will resort to the lowest forms of trickery to destroy those he deems his enemies. Question everything.” Then after a brief moment of pause, I added. “Even your friends.”

  If he thought that last part was strange, he didn’t say. Instead, he waved goodbye and, with a tap to the roof of the carriage, we were on our way.

  Bath.

  The place of my death.

  The place of my rebirth.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “The next item up for auction is something extremely valuable and a once in a lifetime acquisition. We have it on good authority that the Fates themselves used these golden scissors to cut Gandhi’s life string. Whoever wins this precious artifact is promised a life of peace and good fortune . . . the iconic philanthropist’s karma is still deeply ingrained into the metal. Who starts the bidding with fifty thousand pounds?”

  Paddles rose in the air as the crowd exploded in excitement. This was by far the most prestigious piece so far tonight. Unfortunately, while good karma was always considered an asset, and heaven knew I needed an abundance of it, the scissors wouldn’t give me what I needed. No, what I impatiently awaited was in the next lot.

  A mixture of eagerness to get this over with and dread of what that would entail had been steadily wreaking havoc on my nerves since we’d arrived. Both Vivien and Verity drew attention from nearby admirers as they slowly sauntered through the attendees until we found the table where we now sat.

  We were all a little dazzled by the opulence around us. Crystal chandeliers hung throughout the large spacious hall—the ornamental fixtures glittering and casting beautiful light displays from the candles lit around the room. Champagne flowed freely as wait staff moved about with silver trays laden with an assortment of foods. It was difficult to know who the other guests were, whether they were human or supernatural, but this much was certain—each of us was here for a purpose. It was impossible to miss the hungry energy that emanated and filled the air with electricity. Vivien had immediately bristled the second she’d entered the room.

  “Do you think that might help?” Vivien murmured, leaning in so her words were for me only. She knew why we were here—something that I still kept hidden from Verity. To her, we were simply here honoring the request made by Sullivan’s friend, Iriana. The lure of seeing such a gorgeous jewel up close had filled Verity with excitement, her foot tapping beneath the table.

  Slipping my hand into her lap so I could hold her hand and squeeze it, she’d smiled at me. It had always been my dream to present her with jewelry worthy of her beauty. This would perhaps be the closest I would ever get at fulfilling that wish.

  Casting another look toward the stage where the auctioneer stood, I shook my head and replied with a no. Another look of disappointment graced Vivien’s features.

  After an enthusiastic bidding war resulting in one lucky guest paying an extraordinarily exorbitant price for the scissors, the crowd fell silent, collectively holding their breath. Whether you were here to find a treasure or came simply to witness the night’s events, the atmosphere was ripe with that addictive quality that made it hard to resist raising your hand. It was almost as if an intoxicating perfume had been sprayed into the air, triggering those suppressed gluttonous tendencies. Even Verity caught herself leaning forward, her arm slowly rising before she stopped.

  “This will be our last item before taking a brief respite for refreshments. It is an unusual article but one I know will appeal to you all. Before I announce what it is, there is a stipulation added by the seller. There is no price set . . . instead, it is up to the bidder to offer something of value. Should your offer be accepted, you will then meet privately with the seller to further discuss and close the deal. Do we have an understanding?” He looked about the room to find every
one nodding, some murmuring their curiosity.

  “This is it,” I said without thinking.

  This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

  “In my very long life,” the older gentleman began. “I have only ever seen this item presented once. Having gone through the auction house records, there have been a total of three times in its three hundred years existence that this particular seller has considered proffering . . .” With a flourish I knew was specifically designed to make the audience gasp in wonderment, he whipped back the cloth draped over a square object. Under the red material, a jewel-encrusted goblet sat inside a glass box.

  Balthazar’s.

  The crowd instantly groaned their disappointment.

  Holding up his hand to calm them, the silver-haired gentleman quickly continued his sales pitch. “It is not the cup that’s up for auction but what it will hold . . .” This time he paused for dramatic effect. “May I present—the gift of immortality.”

  The result was instantaneous. The room exploded into riotous noise as people jumped to the feet, waving their paddles in the air indicating their desire to buy.

  Verity’s gasp didn’t come because of the announcement, but more because I had also leapt from my seat. “Devlin?” she asked, her mouth agape. “What are you doing? I thought we were here for Iriana.”

  Vivien quickly laid her hand on her friend’s arm and shook her head. “Wait. This is why he is truly here.”

  There was no mistaking the hurt that clouded her eyes or the way she seemed to shrink away from me. What I wanted to do was go to her and whisk her outside where I could try to explain why I’d kept my intentions a secret; but leaving meant missing this opportunity and I had my orders.

  With the room in chaos, people began shouting out their offers, vehemently arguing with those around them who tried to outdo them. I knew their attempts would be in vain. What the announcer had failed to mention was Mikhail lurked behind the curtain, hidden from view, scanning the hall for someone who met Balthazar’s criteria. It would be that person who won the right to stand before the vampire king and negotiate his or her immortality.

  Each of the previous items had sold for obscene amounts of money or deeded lands. The supernatural community was a rich one—its wealth making that of humanity’s a mere trifle. If mankind knew the kind of affluence that surrounded them, they would perhaps not fear the unknown as much and embrace it with the hopes of claiming some of that fortune for themselves.

  I didn’t need to jump about or threaten others in my attempt to be seen. The second we’d stepped into the room, the treasure had been witnessed and immediately desired.

  The announcer coughed loudly, clearing his throat in an attempt to bring civility back to the auction. After a few more tries, the room finally settled—each person’s gaze locked on the stage as an assistant came forward to hand him a note.

  After a quick perusal, he folded the cream paper again. “It seems we have a winner already.” He gestured toward our table.

  A hand touched my arm as the same assistant from the stage appeared beside me. “Sir, if you would follow me.”

  Both Vivien and Verity gasped. Everything began moving fast, leaving me no time to explain or at least silence some of the fear keeping the love of my life rooted where she stood. Shaking her head as if refusing what had happened, I told Vivien to stay with her, assuring the women I would return when I could.

  It was all in vain, as I already knew, because the assistant was quick to add that our entire party was requested to attend my meeting with the buyer—particularly young Verity.

  It still chilled me that Mikhail had known who she was without any prior introduction.

  “Devlin?” she uttered again as we moved through the jealous crowd, notes slipped into my hand that would later reveal bargaining pleas from people hopeful to buy the gift from me. If only they understood it was actually a curse and not one worth having.

  “Do you love me?” I quickly answered. When she nodded, I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Then trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  That wasn’t the right thing to say based on how she tried to stop again. But there was no preventing this trainwreck now.

  I would be on it through to the bitter end.

  “We meet again, puppy.”

  Mikhail’s simpering grin did nothing to ease my worry. It had never been my intention for Verity or Vivien to get this close to such cruel evil. I didn’t even want the vampire to know they existed, but it was already written in the cards, so to speak. There had been no preventing it. Events were rushing forward rapidly.

  “Mikhail,” I replied, bowing in fake civility. We both knew he had no respect for me. I was human, so he didn’t care what I thought about him. I was simply a bug he could squash beneath his foot—a plague in the world he and his kind believed they dominated.

  “Shall we begin with the formalities and see what you have to offer my master?” He gestured for us to enter the room the assistant had escorted us to. Different from the first time we’d met, this one was meant to reflect a more intimate, cozier atmosphere, but it only made my skin crawl knowing we were so close together. An endless sea wouldn’t be wide or deep enough to create the distance I desired.

  “Yes.” Ensuring I was always between him and the women, I did my best to block his view of them. While I didn’t like the outcome of this meeting, I wouldn’t give him a second longer to stare at my Verity. She was too pure to be tainted by his vile and lustful attentions.

  “What have you to offer Balthazar? Think carefully, Devlin Lockhart. He will only accept the most treasured thing you possess. Immortality is not a gift so easily given.”

  Resting back in his seat, he tapped his fingers against his knee in a show of mock patience. When one of the outside wait staff entered to ask if he wanted something to drink, he brushed them away.

  “I offer him my fealty,” I finally said, knowing it would be refused.

  Sure enough, Mikhail burst into laughter. “Your fealty. A pitiful human . . . a distasteful pet to an Alpha believes he holds any value. I see you are not taking this seriously enough. Perhaps I should choose another.” Going to stand, Mikhail knew his threat would hit its mark. There was no way I could let him leave. One way or another, I would claim my prize.

  “Then tell me, what would please your master?” It took everything to open my mouth and utter those words. I wanted to cut out my tongue, wear a muzzle, anything to prevent me from speaking that dreaded question. I didn’t care what the vampire king wanted. He would never, ever get it. The thing I most cherished was not for sale.

  But when dealing with a vampire, everything had a price, and if they couldn’t acquire it . . . they would simply take it.

  Before he could reply, Vivien spoke up. “I am a powerful witch. I offer the one you serve my gifts. Whatever he requires, no matter how dark the magic, I will aid him.”

  “Oh, Vivien,” I groaned, knowing that doing so was equal to damning her soul on my behalf. Tears filled my eyes at the faith she’d so easily placed in my hands. “No.”

  “I concur,” Mikhail interjected, cocking his head to the side as he studied her. “While damning your soul with the darkest and foulest of magic would be a pleasure to witness, my liege has no true use for you. He has many such witches at his disposal.”

  “Then what do you require?” Her voice was barely above a whisper as Verity peered around me.

  The room stilled, waiting.

  “You.”

  It was one word but it reached down my throat, grabbed ahold of my heart and squeezed without mercy.

  “No!” I roared, jumping to my feet, my arm swiping backward to keep both Verity and Vivien behind me. “Over my dead body!”

  “That can be arranged, insolent pup. You overestimate your worth. You ask for immortality and the price is something of value. She—” He pointed toward Verity again, “—is exactly what Balthazar needs.”

  “And what would that
involve?” It broke my heart to hear how small she sounded, yet how completely courageous her sentiment made her.

  “Don’t talk to him, Verity. Please . . . this is my problem. I brought you here. I will not bargain with your life, not for anything in this world. I told you I would keep you from harm and I will give my life to do so.”

  Coming around me, still keeping her back to Mikhail as an act of dismissal, Verity cradled my cheek with her hand. “I love you, Devlin Lockhart. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you when we were children. Then and there I swore there was nothing I wouldn’t do to see you happy.”

  “But how could you think this would do that?” I interrupted, a wildness creeping into my voice. It was strange—even with foreknowledge, terror practically consumed me.

  “Let me finish.” Her lips curled into a soft smile. “If this is what it takes, what harm comes from merely asking? How bad could it be?” Not waiting for me to argue with her foolish logic, Verity finally turned around to address Mikhail. “I ask again, what would it involve?”

  His ghoulish eyes roamed over her body and he had the audacity to lick his lips with appreciation. “It’s quite simple. You would become his to own . . . his sex slave . . . his blood slave . . . his to do as he pleases.”

  Verity’s knees gave out and I caught her before she dropped to the floor. In her wildest dreams, she would never have expected that. Both Vivien and I had filled her in on the existence of supernaturals, but this was a bracing slap in the face of how truthful that conversation had been.

  The fact Mikhail’s fangs had descended and he’d flashed them had also confirmed it.

  “Never,” I retaliated, once again stating my refusal. “Her blood is not his to sample. Her body is not his to own.”

  “Then you have wasted my time. Pity, I would’ve liked to watch him feast on her more . . .” His gaze dropped to below her waist, his eyes flaring. “. . . erotic places.”

  I lunged forward, barely restraining myself.