Witch’s Concubine

by Cara Carnes

  Welp. No guts no glory. Honing in on the flickering flame, she fed it, nursed it to a large plume of fire. Slowly, hoping to capture Dragos’s attention, she spanned the flame into a fine, fiery strand and drew it toward her, making sure it was a beacon large enough to see from a distance.

  “What are you doing?” Dmitri growled.

  “Ringing his doorbell,” she whispered. “I hope.”

  The two vampires braced. She ignored the posturing and the influx of testosterone in their auras. She had another, bigger problem to deal with. The flames were rushing for her, rippling with animosity and rage. Raw power surged into her outstretched hand.

  Clearly, this wasn’t a good idea.

  She cried out at the assault. Dmitri snarled and shoved her behind him. But the flames maneuvered past him and surged around her, searing her flesh with their fury. A surge of power ruptured the air, the earth around them. The voracity enveloped them within a bubble of environmental elements her pained mind couldn’t beat.

  “I don’t think Dragos is taking visitors,” Alonzo commented.

  “Dragos.” Dmitri’s voice boomed over the gale-forced winds knocking them into one another.

  Dirt stung Macy’s eyes, her body contorted in magical pain, enveloped in flames she doubted Dmitri and Alonzo could see. Her screams made Dmitri’s eyes widen, his stance hardened. His touch fueled the inferno. She gasped and pulled away.

  “Dragos.” Dmitri thundered. “You’re killing her. Macy needs your help.”

  An unnatural calm settled around them. Macy sensed the danger prowling somewhere on the edges of the trees, within the darkness. Magic grew, prepared to deal a fatal blow if they lied.

  “Dragos.” Her voice was edged with unspoken pain. Her magic battled the intruder, holding most of the flames at bay, but she sensed more than felt she’d failed on many counts. The power he wielded was greater, harshened by a decades old battle against a curse far viler than hers. “Dragos.”

  Flames bloomed to their right. He stepped from within them, blue flames flickering across his skin.

  I so want to learn to do that.

  “Macy.” Hesitancy reflected in his voice. His hands remained at his side, palms out. “You brought vampires.”

  “They brought me, technically,” she winced. “Can you kill the flame fest? I think I’m better medium well. Charred Macy doesn’t taste good.”

  Dmitri growled. “You harmed her. For that you must die.”

  He kneeled beside her. His hands hovered over her seared skin. She couldn’t help but brace for contact. “I think ringing the bell was a bad idea,” she stated weakly.

  “Summon a healer, dragon warlock.” Dmitri’s voice was mottled with uncontained rage.

  “Don’t bother.” Macy winced and maneuvered herself to a sitting position. “They won’t help.”

  “Why not?” Alonzo demanded.

  “The curse,” Dragos replied. “None of our witch healers will touch her for fear of removing a curse not of their making.”

  Dmitri’s jaw twitched. His eyes darted over her body briefly, then over to Alonzo. “Then we take her to one who has no choice but heal her.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Alonzo tensed. “I can’t allow you to do this.”

  “Last time I checked, I commanded you, not the other way around.” Dmitri’s voice lowered to a feathery whisper against her ear. “Tell me where to touch you, little dragon. I’d rather rip out my soul than harm you.”

  “You intend to take her into your realm, vampire?” Dragos growled.

  “Leave us, dragon. You’ve done enough damage.” Dmitri ran his hand around her neck and positioned the other under her knees. Pain scored her body, but she bit her lip. There was no way to avoid it.

  “Why did you come? I told you to never try and locate me.” Regret cleansed Dragos’s aura. “I am far gone.”

  Dmitri lifted her. Dots returned in her gaze, a filmy haze settled. A response panged on her tongue, but the words refused to come. Crud. Her mind was shutting down because of the pain.

  “Ease yourself, little dragon.” Dmitri settled her fully against his body. She sensed his vampiric shields form around them. “We came in search of a vampire slave auction. She suspected you could help us locate it.”

  Dragos sneered. “Why would I help two vampires?”

  “You would help her.”

  “It is not her cause.” Dragos regarded them all.

  He’d changed very little over the years. Dark blond hair tinged with red streaks ran in wavy lengths past his ears, somehow softening a haggard face. His eyes were darker, sinful blistering streaks of amber amidst a swirling sea of midnight ocean. Dark circles under his eyes detracted from his square jaw and full lips, now thinned with thought.

  “By ancient right, I demand you aid them. That will settle your debt with me.”

  “Debt?” Alonzo asked.

  “The harm I did demands I indenture myself to her as recompense,” Dragos snarled. He glared at Dmitri. “Even if I know something about this auction, they would never allow you entry. Her either.”

  “Tell us what we need to know so we can get her the aid she needs. Make no mistake, dragon warlock. You will tell us what we wish to know.”

  Macy shivered in Dmitri’s embrace. A part of her wanted to defend her long-trusted ally. Dragos hadn’t meant to harm her. But another part wrapped around the protective vampire and yearned for his taste, his heat.

  Goddesses, it was cold. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, ignoring the stabbing pain the movement created. Dmitri was so warm.

  “Her powers are coalescing with one another.” Dragos moved toward them.

  Alonzo stepped in front of her and Dmitri. “Say that again in layman terms and stay the hell back.”

  “She’s dying.” Dragos prowled forward until he was eye-to-eye with the vampire. “Is that clear enough for you?”

  “What do you mean?” Dmitri demanded.

  “Her magic inhaled as much of my powers as it could to prevent her body harm. The newfound abilities within my power strands are merging with hers. She must be healed soon or she will die.” He looked at Macy. “I wouldn’t have ever hurt you intentionally.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I’m so cold.”

  “The fire is internalizing within her. Soon she will experience a raging inferno, her skin will blister and sear anyone who touches her.” His voice lowered. “Get your healer before that cycle completes. You don’t want to watch what will happen otherwise.”

  “How would you know this?” Dmitri asked.

  “My mate died this way centuries ago. I can still hear her screams as she combusted.” Rage boomed in his voice. “Go. I will see about your vampire slaves.”

  ****

  Macy whimpered against him. Her cheek seared his shoulder, but he didn’t care about the pain. All that mattered was healing her. He turned to Alonzo and commanded. “Make the portal.”

  “This is suicide. Your father will destroy you for no other reason than to finally have an excuse.” Alonzo’s power surged, the portal shimmered behind him. “Remain here. I will take her.”

  “No.”

  Before his second could continue the argument, Dmitri rushed into the portal, his soul aching with each movement. Macy suffered because of him. He shouldn’t have taken her to the dragon warlock. The danger had been too great, and he’d failed to realize it soon enough.

  She could die.

  The thought increased his speed until he darted through the portal, uncaring of what awaited him. Darkness swallowed the light, ringlets of fire beckoned from the distance. The corridor between the other worlds had become more sinister over the years, as if an unseen force infringed on the two realms with malevolent intent. His father never wanted to hear the whimsical notion, but one day Dmitri would investigate.

  Two sentries bowed upon his entry. Their eyes widened upon sensing the female in his arms, but they remained obediently mute. Loyal subjects were hard to
find, clearly these had decided they’d rather live today.

  Power hummed in his veins, ready to strike the first threat. Aside from the absence of light and the continuous battle for blood, the realm he’d been raised in wasn’t much different from the human one. Blood bars with inflated prices lined the main streets. Primary locales were divided between factions. Few treaded where they weren’t bred.

  “Petra?” Alonzo asked.

  Dmitri’s skin crawled. “No. That hag would require a blood bond with her. I will not subject Macy to that.”

  “Then who?” Alonzo’s gaze scanned the vacant streets. “It must be feeding time.”

  “Or they sense her presence and fear the king’s actions.”

  Cannibalism purged most of the weak fledglings from this sector. Poverty prevented the masses from affording human blood trafficked in from the other realm. Since only royals or their trusted infantries could cross to another realm, the majority of the vampire realm’s inhabitants were left hungry the first several centuries of their existence.

  “I don’t miss this time,” Alonzo commented. “My veins still ache from the hunger.”

  “We survived.” Barely. His father had seen fit to toss him with the masses. Only the toughest of warriors deserved to lead the people. The bullshit excuse had served well enough and left Dmitri to fend for himself within the harsh existence of the Bloodless Realm. “I wouldn’t have survived if it hadn’t been for you, your family.”

  Alonzo grunted a response and kept walking. Mentioning those his family had slaughtered brought old wounds to the surface, the festering rage returned.

  “He’ll pay for what he did,” Dmitri promised.

  The second nodded, his throat constricting with unspoken anguish.

  Dread and tendrils of fear seized Dmitri. Seeking Zivon’s help would stir ancient waters, but there was no choice. Alonzo remained thankfully silent, the destination all too clear when they rounded the corner and headed into the Dead Lands, where no sane vampire treaded—most especially an ancient of royal blood.

  The ostracized resided within the barren, arid region with little to no food, no water, and no revenue. No hope. The region, according to legend, had remained blessedly vacant for centuries until Dmitri’s father’s reign. Most residing within the sanded foothills were political refugees clawing and scratching toward one objective: to destroy the royal bloodline.

  “Surely there’s another healer,” Alonzo stated.

  “Not one strong enough to do what must be done.” Dmitri increased his speed, noting her slowing pulse rate. “And no one with enough balls to defy my father.”

  Macy would live. No matter the recourse, she would thrive.

  Unseen souls, devoid of any thought but survival and vengeance watched from a distance. Their hatred flowed freely, but they stayed away.

  “They’re too weak to take us both,” Alonzo commented.

  “More likely their leader demanded the right,” Dmitri responded. “Vow to me that no matter what occurs here you will get her help. Take her to Petra, and do what you must to get the treatment.”

  Alonzo’s jaw twitched. Resentment reflected in his eyes, but a curt nod sealed the pact.

  Macy would live.

  Dmitri continued up the hill to a dilapidated structure built of bone, mud, and residual debris. Shrapnel scattered the area, useless trinkets grabbed in desperation. Nothing contained value in this land. Only blood.

  He paused several yards away. “She doesn’t have the time to play your games, Zivon.”

  The man stepped out of the structure, large arms crossed, a glower on his scarred face. “You surprise me, Dmitri. I thought you were smart enough not to come back after the last time.”

  “Heal her. We will deal with the payment afterward.”

  The man stepped closer. His bored gaze regarded Macy. “The witch is dying.”

  “Heal her.”

  “It will require much strength.” Greed saturated his aura. “The payment will be great.”

  “I’d be worried if it wasn’t.”

  Zivon sighed. “Follow me.” He paused and pointed at Alonzo. “He stays outside.”

  “He stays with her.” Dmitri tensed. “That is my demand.”

  “Very well.” Zivon moved inside.

  A small flame flickered to life in the corner. Zivon chuckled. “She is a dragon witch. Interesting.”

  Dmitri remained silent. Macy moaned in pain when he set her down, moving toward him.

  “So cold,” she whispered.

  Her skin raged with fire. Dmitri stood beside her and forced his attention on Zivon. If the healer sensed the concern and emotion within him, Macy would suffer.

  “You can heal her?”

  Zivon sat beside her and moved his hands above her body. Power flickered between the two. The man paused, his eyes widened. “She is cursed.”

  “Yes.”

  “I assume you’d like that handled as well.”

  “Might as well get my blood’s worth.” Dmitri settled into acceptance. “You can heal her?”

  “I can.” Zivon stood, moving to a cabinet. He mixed a couple of jars with a vile of liquid. “Tell me how she came to be this way.”

  “I know little of the curse.”

  “Not that. I recognize that bitch Morva’s work by now. Enough vampires have come to me stricken with her toxic concoctions.” Zivon settled beside Macy and grasped her head. Dmitri tensed at the man’s touch, but remained still. “Tell me how she came into such power.”

  Morva. The witch his father had enslaved had proven a difficult rival these past few years. Her power had amassed, rotted into evil that his father manipulated like a puppeteer would a prized toy.

  “So Macy somehow became a threat to my father.”

  “It would be one of the only plausible reasons for her to be cursed by the witch he enslaves.” Zivon shrugged. “Or perhaps Morva simply felt threatened by Macy’s powers. They are tremendous.”

  “Neither my father nor his bitch will get near Macy.”

  “What happened to her today?” Zivon asked.

  Providing information to the healer went against Dmitri’s normally cautious approach to situations. Knowledge was power in this realm. But the healer had provided the face of Macy’s enemy. Thanks to Zivon, he knew exactly who meant her harm.

  Now all he needed to do was figure out why. Either way, he owed the healer something in return. Given that Dragos was the reason the little dragon was on the verge of death, he really didn’t give a shit what Zivon wanted with him.

  “A cursed dragon warlock attacked. Macy’s magic somehow inhaled his powers within itself.”

  “And yours as well.” Zivon poured the liquid down Macy’s throat.

  “What do you give her?”

  “A tonic to neuter her curse.” He massaged her throat, forcing her to swallow the medicine. “In time her magic will cleanse her system of any other issues. It is the best I can do. Tell me of the dragon warlock.”

  “I know nothing of him.” Unease rose within him as the inquisition darkened. Something was not right about Zivon’s curiosity. “We left when she was attacked.”

  Zivon stood. “Tell me his location.”

  “He has no bearing on this deal.”

  “He has everything to do with this deal,” the man shouted. “Tell me his location and you live.”

  Dmitri shoved between Macy and Zivon. “You could by law drain me dry for the service you performed today—a life for a life. Yet you choose to let me live for a dragon warlock’s location?”

  “I made a blood vow to another long ago that I would find someone. The magic is too similar to be a coincidence. That dragon warlock is the one I’ve sought.” Determination lowered the man’s voice, sharpening it. “Make no mistake, Prince Dmitri, I would relish draining you dry for your father’s atrocities, but the vow I made must take precedence. It is our way, if you do not recall.”

  Dmitri nodded. “And your intent with this man?”<
br />
  “Not your concern.”

  “She’s his friend.”

  “I would suggest she find friends who cause less damage.” Zivon regarded Macy with disinterest.

  “I’d tend to agree. We’ll discuss it when she’s better.” Nothing mattered beyond Macy’s health. “I should return her to the human realm.”

  “Your father’s army is no doubt searching for you. It will take them a while to get the balls to tread into this land. Let her rest for tonight. You can have my place.” Zivon held out his hand. “For now we’ll set our differences aside for a common goal. Destroy the king.”

  Though a part of him warred with the sentiment, Dmitri accepted it was time to do something more to protect his people. Latching onto the healer’s hand, he nodded grimly.

  Chapter Six

  One thousand bongo drummers banged an endless thrum devised to torture her. It was the only explanation Macy could fathom for why her temples throbbed and searing pain ripped portions of her brain into two.

  The last thing she remembered was the pain. Flames. Dragos.

  Needling prickles wove through her magic, an unwanted strand of tonic. Goddesses, what the hell had happened? Darkness engulfed her when she blinked her eyes open. A lone flame flickered across the wall. She summoned the morsel of light to life, but it didn’t respond. The unknown tonic riddled her power useless.

  Crud. This is so not good.

  She pushed upward and collapsed backward when the movement see-sawed her brain into a bout of nausea she was pretty sure she couldn’t stop. She swallowed, heaved, swallowed.

  Oh, crud.

  “Lean forward.” Dmitri. Oh no, no, no. He can’t see this. Crud. A bucket appeared. Her stomach heaved. Her treacherous throat supported her evil gut’s decision.

  Warm hands stroked her back, her arms.

  “You’re okay, Macy.”

  A damp cloth appeared. Strong fingers cupped her cheek and turned her head. She was lost in his grey gaze, lit with concern and something else. Tenderness? She didn’t know what she saw in his aura, but it was there, a wondrous thing that made her insides churn with awareness.

  He dabbed at her mouth, a grin spreading on his face. “I can always expect the unexpected from you, little dragon.”