by Bianca D'Arc
Chapter Seventeen
When the attack came, it was without warning.
Breaking glass was heard from every room. Megan and Duncan jumped to their feet, not knowing which way to go. The tinkle of deadly shards of sharp glass sounded throughout the house. It was as if every window had shattered simultaneously.
“Be ready for anything!” Duncan shouted. She could feel him gathering his magic, an intense vibration in the air around him.
She sniffed and listened closely, hoping her were senses would tell her what direction to take. After that ear-splitting shattering of glass, all was silent. Eerily so.
Then, from below she heard the sounds of movement.
“Dante.” She breathed his name in a whisper of dread even as she took flight toward the secret entrance to his underground lair. Duncan was right behind her.
She leapt down the flight of stairs, only bothering to bounce off one or two on the way down. Megan harnessed all of her were agility and strength to get to the room she had never visited but knew from the sharing of Dante’s mind.
He was awake. Thank the Goddess. He was awake. She could feel that from the connection, held tightly closed on his end. If he had enough strength to maintain the compression of their link, then he was either unharmed or protecting her from something much worse.
She prayed as she had never prayed before that he was all right, even as she tore through the rooms that made up his lair, heading for his bedroom. She felt his presence there. His presence—and one other.
One other that most definitely did not belong. An incongruous abomination. A blank hole of evil magic where there should only be Dante’s warrior spirit.
“She’s in there with him,” Megan whispered back to Duncan in warning as she finally slowed. He wasn’t far behind, but he was still no match for her were speed. She was in front of the door, and she wouldn’t wait to help her lover.
Megan kicked open the door and ducked low, expecting the sorceress would aim high if she was lobbing fireballs. The scene Megan interrupted was far worse.
Dante was covered in blood. A quick look at Siobhan told Megan it wasn’t her blood. Dante was bleeding. Far too freely from the looks of it.
Megan half-shifted, growling as Siobhan turned to face her, a bloody silver knife in her hand.
“So it’s true. D’Angleterre’s got himself a wolf bitch,” Siobhan spat. “No doubt she was your reward for murdering my brother.”
“I didn’t kill your brother.”
Megan could feel Dante’s regret through their link. He knew what it was to lose a brother all too well.
“He left with you,” Siobhan accused. “You returned. He’s nowhere to be found. Nowhere in this realm! I’ve looked and looked. He’s dead, and you’re responsible.”
“Your brother brought about his own demise when he attacked an innocent woman. To my great regret, I helped him—until I understood what his true mission entailed. When he tried to kill a Priestess, I realized what he was.”
Siobhan seemed to grow in height as her outrage sizzled in the room. “He should have killed you when he had the chance, vampire!” She struck out with her silver blade. Thankfully, Dante was no longer within reach.
Silver was deadly to immortals and dangerous to shifters too. Megan didn’t care. This bitch was going down. Megan advanced on the sorceress, the gleam of death in her eyes. Megan’s clothes were in tatters over her half-shifted body, but that barely registered through the battle haze engaging her senses, except as a nuisance. Her claws extended, ready to rend the sorceress from end to end if only she could get close enough.
Duncan registered in the back of her mind. He was in the doorway, standing firm. He wouldn’t let Siobhan escape, even if Megan failed. But there was no way she was going to fail.
“Why are you awake?” Siobhan accused, probably to gain time as she tried to corner Dante again. “It’s high noon. You should be dead to the world. Weak. Vulnerable. Pathetic. Yet here you stand, defying me. Did you steal my brother’s magic when you killed him?”
No, Megan thought. Dante had enough of his own. It was a good question though. Dante should probably be a lot weaker than he appeared. Even bloody and bludgeoned, he stood his ground and moved quickly when needed. He was strong, even with the sun streaming over the house outside.
“You brother’s evil was dispersed,” Dante said. He kept the woman talking to gain time so Megan could get closer. They made a good team. She could feel his intent from the connection that joined them. She’d take him up on his useful ploy so he could get close to the sorceress and take her out.
The bitch wasn’t going to make it easy. Megan got in range and made one long arcing swipe with her clawed hand. Her razor sharp nails skittered along an energy barrier, causing sparks to fly in every direction, igniting little fires along the rug, furnishings and bedclothes. Shit!
Duncan’s magic swept into the room, dousing the flames, much to her relief. Fire was just as deadly to vampires as it was to any other being. Dante sagged, but he stood behind Siobhan, ready to engage. Megan read his intent through their bond.
“She’s mine,” Megan growled through their link. “I want her blood.”
It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while her beast demanded blood. For what Siobhan had done, Megan’s wolf wanted her dead.
“She’s crafty,” Dante warned in their shared mind. He allowed the connection to open a little more, sharing information easily between them. In a flash, Megan saw how Siobhan had taken Dante by surprise. She sent back images of what had happened above stairs. Siobhan had taken them all by surprise. “Her shield is strong. We might find a weakness if we work together.”
It was a sound plan. “Good. We do this together. My wolf needs her blood, and you’re injured. I’ll take point. You hang back.”
“Never let it be said I argued with my lady,” Dante answered gallantly. “However, if she puts even a toe wrong, all bets are off.”
Even in this dire situation, he had the power to charm her. She sent him a feral grin through her elongated teeth as she rolled out of the way of a small fireball. It was a good thing Dante believed in luxurious simplicity. His bedroom was huge and uncluttered enough for her to have room to maneuver.
Duncan remained in the doorway. Dante stood on the far side of the room, near the bed that filled one corner. Siobhan was between them, holding them both at bay with outstretched hands crackling with evil fire.
“So you admit it,” Siobhan screamed. “You killed him!”
“He’s gone,” Dante said quietly, “but not by my hand. I’m sorry for your loss, Siobhan. However, this is no way to honor his memory.”
“Avenging his death with yours is the perfect way,” she countered. “My Order has wanted you dead for centuries. Patrick could have done it, but he wanted to use you first. I’ll have my pick of honors for killing you.”
“Among the Venifucus?” Dante asked shrewdly. Siobhan jumped visibly, surprise written on her features. “Oh, yes, I know of them. I know they were never fully eradicated. And I know they’re working to bring Elspeth back. Just as I’m working to keep her banished.”
“You’ll never succeed. I’ll kill you and unlike the fools who’ve tried before, I won’t try to turn you to our side. I’ll just end you. After all this time, they’ll have to realize you won’t be turned. You can’t be allowed to continue and fulfill your destiny.”
“Destiny?” Dante repeated quietly, surprise showing on his face.
“Don’t say you didn’t know?” Siobhan laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “A seer spoke at your birth. You’re to be a knight.”
“I was a knight,” Dante said, still clearly confused. “I fulfilled the seer’s words. I served my king and country.”
“Fool.” Siobhan was gathering her power. Megan could feel the crackle of it in the air. “Not that kind of knight.”
Dante’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He said not a word as Siobhan prepared another volley. She
sent little licks of flame out around the room, a warning to keep back.
Megan could feel Duncan’s magic rising to meet it, tamping it down, controlling any stray bits of flame that might escape. The feel of his power—a tingle along her nerve endings—gave her an idea.
Though Megan was no mage, Duncan insisted she was part fey. If that was truly the case, she should be able to use the innate magic of the fey race, coupled with her natural were ability to withstand most human magic, to her advantage.
She advanced on Siobhan, drawing her attention.
“When I get close enough, distract her.”
“How?”
“I don’t care. Throw something. All I need is a split second.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t worry. I think I can get her. I need to get close enough—jam her up so she can’t lob any fireballs.”
“What about her shield?”
“I’m betting I can slice through it like butter if I really put my mind to it.”
“You sparked off it before. What makes you think you can get through it now?”
“I sparked off her perimeter. I’m willing to bet that I can walk right through the perimeter to use my claws. Close in, she can’t throw fire and she can’t use that perimeter unless she knows some way to magically armor bare flesh.”
Dante was silent a moment, most likely thinking through her plan. “It’s worth a try, but stay clear of her blade. It’s pure silver, and it’s magically enhanced.”
The reminder of what had caused his injury only heightened her desire to end this quickly. Dante was still bleeding. He needed care and healing as soon as possible. Until Siobhan was out of the picture, Dante was in danger. No doubt, he was fighting against the poison of the silver just to remain standing.
Megan advanced quickly, holding Siobhan’s attention.
“Do it now. Distract her!”
An object flew through the air behind Siobhan, sparking off her perimeter shield to fall harmlessly to the floor. Siobhan fell for the ploy, spinning her head to see what had hit her shield.
It was only a split second, but that was all Megan needed. She was through the perimeter, her hide only slightly singed, and on the sorceress in the blink of an eye. Megan’s claws dug into Siobhan’s pale skin.
She made one last attempt to slice Megan with the blade. Megan clamped one hand over Siobhan’s wrist until it crunched. The blood covered blade fell to the floor, thumping against the plush carpet harmlessly.
“Do you yield?” Megan ground out between elongated teeth. She had to give Siobhan a chance, regardless of her bloodthirsty words to Dante. Megan wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.
“Never!” Siobhan spat, dragging out a small dagger that must’ve been hidden at her waist with her free hand. She swiped at Megan’s head. Only a quick dodge saved her from losing an ear. The reflexive counterstrike to Siobhan’s exposed throat was the killing blow that ended the sorceress’s life.
Siobhan dropped to the carpet as Megan released her, lifeless.
Megan looked down at her with satisfaction as her wolf retreated, happy now that the threat to its mate was ended. In human form, Megan went to Dante, leaving Duncan to deal with Siobhan’s residual magic.
Dante sagged in her arms as she helped him to the bed. He was weak and bloody, but rallying now that Siobhan’s magic was dissipating. Megan ripped off his shirt to expose the slashing wounds on his chest and arms. There was also a deep puncture wound very near his heart. Her fingers paused as she touched the skin above his beating heart.
“So close…”
Dante’s hand covered hers, drawing her gaze to his.
“She missed. I woke up a scant second before she struck and was able to flinch just enough to make her miss.”
“Thank the Goddess.” Megan leaned in to kiss his damaged chest. “I couldn’t live without you, Dante.”
“It’s the same for me, my love.”
Duncan appeared at Dante’s side. Megan took a quick look back and saw that he’d sent Siobhan’s body…elsewhere. Probably Underhill, until he could get a chance to deal with it properly. That was the least of Megan’s worries now though. Dante was in bad shape.
“The silver blade burned as it sliced,” Duncan said after a quick examination. “Luckily, there is no silver in the wounds. They will heal in time.” He sat back on the bedside as he looked from him to Megan and back again. “How do you feel?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ll live.”
“How about your strength? As Siobhan reminded us, it’s high noon outside. You seem rather perky for this time of day, my friend.”
Dante laughed. It turned into a wheeze punctuated by a dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth. No doubt the knife had hit his lung, but with his immortal constitution, he was already on the mend. Still, the silver of the blade would make it a comparatively long and painful healing process.
“I feel good, actually. Better than I have in a long time while the sun is high.”
“And what do you attribute that to?” Duncan’s raised eyebrow went from Dante to her.
“My lady, I’m sure. She gives me strength.” Dante’s hand clasped hers tightly as his gaze shifted to her. She felt the love behind his words and echoed it right back to him.
“More than you know, my friend,” Duncan murmured, drawing their attention.
“What do you mean?” Dante asked.
“Megan is part fey, among other things. I believe her unique blood will give you abilities few of your brethren can claim.” Megan looked at Dante hopefully. She loved the idea that he’d be stronger for their love. “There’s more, and I believe you are finally ready to hear it.” Duncan’s strange words drew their attention back to him. “Siobhan knew of the seer’s words at your birth, Dante. Apparently the Venifucus took those words to heart and that’s why you’ve been targeted these many years.”
“I don’t understand why, Duncan. I was a knight of the realm. I fulfilled the midwife’s vision. Why should the Venifucus care?”
“Because you did not fulfill the vision.” Duncan’s words were weighty and deliberate. “You were meant for greater things than serving your king, Dante. You were meant to serve the Light, to be my brother, my comrade in arms, a fellow Chevalier de la Lumiere.”
Shock rode Dante’s handsome features as he sat up, clutching his wounds. His full attention was on Duncan and his startling words.
“Don’t toy with me, Duncan.” Dante looked at his old friend sideways, as if not entirely sure if he was kidding or not.
“I never joke about the Order.” Duncan stood at the bedside, a shimmering glow suffusing his being as he called his power. Megan felt the surge in magical energy. When her eyes adjusted to Duncan’s glow, he wasn’t clothed in the armor she’d expected. Instead, he wore a tabard and coat of arms she’d never seen before.
The symbol of the eternal flame and the all-seeing eye were prominent, as well as some sacred geometry in the design. It stretched the limits of her arcane knowledge. All she could really tell was that it was immensely powerful. She could feel it first hand. It shimmered in white and gold, as did his entire being. This was a Knight of the Light in full, formal regalia.
Dante tried to rise, but Duncan’s hand stayed him. “Many Knights have been made in their hospital beds after proving themselves in battle. I see no reason to alter the tradition in your case, my old friend.”
“You would make me a Knight?” Dante was clearly stunned. “I’m not worthy of the honor, Duncan, as you know firsthand.”
“I beg to differ.” Duncan stood tall at the bedside, his expression full of compassion and care for his friend. “I’ve watched over you for many years, Dante d’Angleterre. Since returning to this realm, it’s been my honor to discover that you are more worthy than ever for the space reserved in your name since the moment of your birth. That old wise woman saw far more than I’d realized, and it took our enemies to make it come clear.”
/> “Think before you act, old man. This cannot be undone,” Dante warned.
Duncan only smiled. “Spoken like a true Knight. I should have seen it sooner. My only excuse is that we had been parted so long, I was afraid you’d changed too much. Or perhaps the world had changed too much for me to deal with so quickly. Forgive me for taking time to see the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That you are—and always have been—on the side of Light, Dante. Now, with Megan by your side, you are even stronger. The Goddess would not have trusted you with such a mate if she did not believe in the goodness of your soul through and through. You are a Knight of the Light. It only needs Naming, and you will gain the power you were born to wield.”
“Duncan…” Dante was at a loss for words. Megan could feel his worry, his wonder and his brimming hope. He wanted to believe Duncan’s words but felt unworthy. She sent her love to him through their connection. She knew his heart and if any man was worthy of such an honor, it was Dante. He was the best of men.
“I name you, Dante d’Angleterre, Chevalier de la Lumiere.” Megan felt the same white and gold power coalescing around Dante as Duncan spoke. “Your compassion, even for your enemy, your strength of will and character. Your unfailing honor and willingness to do what’s right even when tempted beyond reason. Your steadfast belief in the Light. These are the things that make you a Knight, Dante. Do you vow to fight for all that is right and good for the rest of your days?”
“I do.”
“Then welcome, brother.” Duncan made a glowing sigil in the air that floated between them before sailing toward Dante to be absorbed into his chest. The wound closed before Megan’s eyes as a tear tracked down her face.
A glimmer of light in the background caught her eye, and she turned to see the ghostly outlines of several men—all clad in similar white and gold tabards—as they flickered into existence, filling the room.
“They project their images here to welcome you, Dante. Our newest brother in the Order. Others will come in time, to teach and train, though I will begin your initial instruction as soon as you are fit.” One by one, the men nodded or raised a hand in an informal salute, then winked out of existence. Megan had witnessed more than a few fey faces in the mix of solemn men.
