Breathing deeply, I filter my magick into a pin point and seal her skin back together. Her blood soaks back into her skin, and once more she’s whole.
Rage flows through me as I see the fallen. My anger burns bright inside me, over the exhaustion on the faces around me, the desperation to survive this battle, and the pain of the wounds that have been inflicted.
I feel a shield slide down over my eyes, turning everything violet. My arms pulse. Glancing down, I am surprised to see them lit up like Christmas trees. The intricate web design now looks like a map, with bright pin points showing me where members of The Protectors fight. Granted, that’s everywhere, yet there’s something odd about how they’re grouped together in some places. There’s something I can’t put my finger on.
Anger suddenly pulses through me. Gathering power to me, I twirl around in fury, bending and twisting in a strange dance, yet with each twist and dip, flames erupt around me, roaring into the sky, causing fear to ignite in the fighting warriors.
With a howl of rage, I once more transform into my wolf. Burning brightly, I run through the field leaping on all those I see on the map shining on my arms. Seeing Victor fighting for his life, I jump over a fallen warrior, twist midleap, and transform into my human form, landing behind my lover’s enemy. I twist his neck and let the body drop to the ground.
Calling fire to my hands, I send the flames out. “Follow the map on my arms, and extinguish only those from my enemy’s camp.” Bright flames of silver, gold, and red rush from me, darting around the combatants, wrapping like steel bands around The Protectors’ warriors, and with the slightest tightening, they drop to the ground. A quick death—they wouldn’t even have known they were about to die.
The battle is over. All who had come to fight against us on this day are dead. And all that is left to do is heal our wounded. I send out healing magick which joins with the other witches around the battlefield. It slides over our wounded, cauterizing wounds and mending broken bones.
Sadness grips me at the deaths I’ve caused. Not the one on one fighting, but the final destruction. Murder, plain and simple. Tears cloud my vision. I look into the eyes of the man I love and whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Transforming into my wolf, I howl mournfully my apology before darting off into the woods.
Chapter 46
I don’t know for how long I ran; all I know is, by the time I stop running, I’m exhausted and darkness has fallen. My sides heaving from exertion, I collapse into foliage by a fallen dead tree. A shiver rakes through me, not from cold but the memories of the battle. The final moments when I’d murdered all those people in one brutal act of vengeance.
Transforming into my human form, I curl my body in on itself and wrap my arms around my knees. Tears flow unheeded down my face as I feel like my heart is breaking. I can’t forgive myself for the atrocities I’ve just committed.
I’ll rest for a while and then move on. I can’t face the others, and yet the thought of never seeing my friends again hurts me, but not as much as the thought of being without Victor. The only man I’ve ever loved. My soul mate.
I howl out my agony causing birds to take flight with squawks of irritation and wildlife to scatter. I repeat a litany of an apology over and over, as if this will somehow release me from my guilt or change what I did.
I loosen the grip I have on my legs and let them slip to the side. “I’ll have to keep moving. I can’t let anyone find me,” I mutter out loud, as if to hear the words will encourage me to get up and go.
“You want to keep moving because otherwise you’ll know no one will come looking for you.”
My fear whispers in a snide voice, telling me the truth of my deepest fears.
“You did them a favor running away, saved them from driving you out. After all, you’re a vindictive monster!”
It’s only when I wipe away my tears and prepare to stand that I realize I’m not alone. And it wasn’t my voice in my head I was hearing. I should have realized, as now I think about it, it was a man’s voice I’d heard.
Staring balefully at me with a knife clutched in his palm, he curls his lip at me in disgust. “You’re a disgrace to her memory. I should have killed you long ago.”
“Who are you?” I demand. “And a disgrace to who’s memory?”
“Cynthia’s, of course. Who else would I be on about?” the man asks me in such a tone of voice you’d think it was a logical assumption.
“I don’t know you, so how the hell would I know who you’re on—wait, you knew my mother?”
“Of course I knew her. I loved her!” bellows the man. Rage flashes across his face as his grip tightens around the handle of the knife. He advances a step closer to me, then pauses, his head tilted as if listening to something farther away.
“Who are you?” I ask again, slowly I stand up.
Once more, he focuses on me, glowers at seeing me standing up. “You look so much like her. Seeing you is like seeing her alive again.” His tone is filled with regret, looking at me, he curls his lip up in a snarl of anger.
“I’m Jeremy Reynolds, and I should have been your father, by rights. Except she never looked at me the way she looked at Killian. The moment they clapped eyes on each other…I ended up hating him, my own brother. Do you know what that’s like? To hate your own…”
I gape at him. This man who hates me for looking like my mother. Who hated his own brother because my mother loved him; this man is my uncle? I stare at him in shock. I feel as if I’m watching a train crash and can’t look away.
Lifting my hand to drag my hair away from my face, I notice a blip on my arm. I’m horrified as I realize that my own uncle must be a member of The Protectors.
“You’re one of them.” I don’t ask him if he is, because the evidence is in front of me. I stare at him in disgust. How could he join them after what they did to his own brother and the woman he supposedly loved?
“Of course I’m one of them,” he shouts. Spittle flies from his lips, spraying everywhere. “I needed permission to kill Killian. By the time I joined them long enough to hunt, they’d married and she was pregnant with you!”
I feel myself go icy cold at his words. I stare at this stranger who’s apparently my uncle. A man who joined a group of maniacs because my mother didn’t love him. A man who killed his own brother and the woman they both loved. My mother.
“You joined them so you could kill your brother?” I hope I’ve somehow managed to get the wrong idea.
“Of course I did. What was I supposed to do, wish them happy?”
I stare at him blankly wondering if he actually hears himself. “Yes.” Shaking my head, I stare at him in disbelief.
“Don’t be stupid!”
“Who killed my parents?” I ask the only question that is now relevant. The only question I’ve ever wanted to know the answer to.
****
I stare sightlessly out my sister’s apartment window, as turmoil flows through me. My thoughts are haunting me, and it’s only my sister’s strident voice that pulls me out of my internal battle. Though to be honest, her words are not what I need, or want to hear.
“You are obsessed, just as our father was obsessed with her mother. What is it about those women that have the men in our family tying themselves up in knots over them?” demands Sophie, in genuine confusion.
“You don’t understand.” I cringe as I hear the petulant tone in my voice.
“You’re right; I don’t. What I know is another matter altogether, though. Our father hated Killian, his own brother, because he wanted Cynthia for himself. Even though it was obvious from the first time Killian and Cynthia met that they’d fallen in love with each other and had no eyes for anyone else.”
“How do you know this?” Turning, I stare curiously at my sister. “Neither of us was even born when they all met…”
“Mum was there. They all went to college together. She was dating Dad at the time, and she told me about it. She remembers how Dad became moody
and acted jealous every time he saw them together. She almost broke up with him over it.”
“So how come she didn’t?”
“She fell pregnant.” Waving a hand to shush me before I can point out that I wasn’t old enough, she continues on, “Not with you, she miscarried soon after, and Dad became attentive around her. Not long after that though, Killian asked Cynthia to marry him, and she accepted.
“Dad was furious. It wasn’t long afterward that he became secretive.” Pausing in her story, she turns away to look out the window. “He asked Mum to marry him, she said yes because she loved him, but she admitted to me, she always felt like she was second best. Not long after they’d married, she realized that he’d joined The Protectors.”
“He joined because he was jealous that he didn’t marry Cynthia?”
“Yes. He wanted her. I half think he decided to kill them so that no one could have her, including Killian, his own brother.”
“Jesus. I never knew. Why didn’t Mum tell me?” I feel anger and confusion wash through me and hurt, too.
“Because, Mark, she knew how close you and Dad were, and Dad…” Shaking her head, she turns to once more look at me. “Do you honestly believe he would have let her tell you the truth of why he’d joined The Protectors? He was grooming you to follow in his footsteps, which you did, in more ways than one.
“Why you are so obsessed with our cousin, I’ll never know. But for your own sanity, you must stop this foolishness. Warn her of the danger she’s in. After all, our own father is more than willing to kill her, just to eradicate the final link to Cynthia’s memory.”
I can feel my face paling at the thought of harm coming to her. I hate the idea of her being with that vampire or, truth be told, with anyone. But the thought of her being in danger leaves me in a cold sweat.
I know my sister doesn’t understand my obsession with our cousin. How could she? After all, I’ve never told anyone, that each night, Candi’s screams echo in my sleep. I’m haunted by her heartbreak and rage. Emotions I helped to cause.
“If she survived the battle, I’ll warn her about Father.”
“The battle, why wasn’t he fighting in it? I’d have thought that would have been right up his street.”
“He’s not needed for the battle; he’s a tracker, one of the best and too valuable to be killed in the war.” Looking at my sister, I admit, “We both were on the no-fighting list. Only half of each level was allowed to fight.” Shaking my head, I wonder if Candi will survive, and for the first time ever, I hope that her friends and lover will also live.
****
“My son and I did. Your father was his first hunt. You should have seen his expression when he realized I was going to kill him.” A satisfied smirk slithers across his face, as he twirls his knife around in his hands.
“Cynthia should have died then too, except my wife went into labor. Took me three fucking years to track her down again. When she realized it was me…” Sorrow for just an instant enters his eyes, before they harden once more. “I asked her to come with me; she refused. Said she couldn’t stand the sight of me, and blah, blah, blah, how could I do this to my brother and wife?”
I feel a brush of familiar power vibrate through me. It’s the only warning I have before Jeremy’s neck twists around at an unhuman angle and drops to the ground. Standing staring at me is Victor Harlow, vampire most scrumptious and the love of my life.
Chapter 47
“No matter what,” Victor growls, as he stalks toward me.
“What?” I ask in confusion, as I watch him close the distance between us.
“You promised, no matter what, we’re in this together,” he slowly enunciates, as if explaining to a rather dimwitted child.
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. No-matter-what does not have an escape clause!”
“Please, after what I just did—”
“You saved us all.” His expression and tone become soothing, his eyes filled with sympathy.
“I murdered thousands!” I scream at him, shocking myself at the sudden volume in my voice.
“Sweetheart, it was a war. If you hadn’t done…if you hadn’t used your magick to end it swiftly, we would all have been dead.”
“I didn’t give them a chance to fight or even surrender…I just…” Tears fill my eyes once more, my body trembles, and it’s suddenly very hard to swallow.
Arms wrap around me, holding me against his solid chest, as he strokes my hair and murmurs soothing noises in my ear. It takes me a while to realize he’s repeating the same sentence over and over. “You saved us all.”
Chapter 48
I must have collapsed from exhaustion because I’m not in the woods anymore. Instead, I’m in a bed, held securely in his arms, with one of his legs thrown over mine as if to make sure I’m pinned in place and can’t disappear on him again.
Looking around as far as I can, it only takes me a moment to realize we’re in our bedroom at Vlad’s castle. What gives me pause, though, is the fact that we’re both fully dressed. This fact makes me realize just how much I hurt him. As previously, no matter how tired I’ve been, awake or not, he would always undress me, leaving me in my underwear but needing that skin-to-skin contact.
I try to wiggle my arms free, from where they’re trapped at my sides but am unable to as Victor has me pinned to him good and tight. I quickly realize that the only thing I can move is my head. Not good as I desperately need the toilet.
“Victor, Victor, wake up!” I call out. He shifts slightly, dragging me even closer to him, though I have no idea how. “Wake up.” My voice has a tinge of desperation in it.
“I’m never letting you go again,” mumbles Victor in such a sleepy voice I wonder if he’s even awake.
“I need to pee,” I growl at him. “Wake up, you oaf!”
“Did you just call me an oaf?” His voice has a hint of puzzlement in it and sounds just a little more awake than before.
“Yes, I did, and if you won’t let me up, it’ll become very uncomfortable in a minute.”
Slowly, he releases me, as if unsure if he should. I feel his eyes drilling holes into my back as he watches me get up and head toward the bathroom. I practically run in, unbuttoning my jeans as I go and make it just in time.
Once I’ve finished, I enter the bedroom to find Victor pacing the floor. His brow is furrowed, and his normally elegant and fluid movements are stilted. For some reason, I find this quite distressing, knowing that I have caused this anxiety in him.
“I’m sorry.” Shaking my head, I pause in the doorframe, unsure what to do. I don’t feel like I have a right to go to him, to offer comfort. Lord only knows I can’t give him any reassurances.
He pauses to stare at me. His hands ball up into fists before he slowly straightens them out one finger at a time. His jaw is working, and I know he’s grinding his teeth. So not good. But it’s his eyes that make me pause, and a cold sweat breaks out over my body as I stare into his vampiric icy blue eyes with a red ring swirling around them. I’ve never seen anything like it before.
I have a moment of panic where I debate stepping back into the bathroom and locking the door behind me. It’s only his precise, single word sentences spoken with such deadly command that stop me from doing just that.
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
Swallowing, I give him the barest nod, letting him know I won’t run.
“Strip.”
“What?” I ask, feeling I must have misunderstood him, because surely he didn’t just—
“I said, strip!” He takes a step toward me, and I’m positive he looks like he’s expanding.
“Now look here—”
“I am going to make sure you don’t run away again, and the only way I can think to stop you at this moment is if you’re fucking naked!” His words are fired at me, each louder than the last until he’s bellowing.
I shake my head in denial. “No, I won’t.”
“Won’t what? Strip or run agai
n?” He looks me up and down with lips curled into a snarl, yet I see just a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. The barest flash before being soundly squashed.
“Both. Look, I’m not going anywhere.” I glance down at the floor and take a couple of minutes to just try and sort out my thoughts. “You have to understand, I didn’t want to leave you.” Taking a deep breath, I continue to explain what I was feeling, am still feeling to be honest. “How can I expect you to even look at me, if I can’t, because of what I did?”
Confusion clouds his face at my words. In an instant, he’s standing in front of me, looking torn between the idea of shaking me, strangling me, or hugging me. Apparently, he decided on two out of the three, by first shaking me by the shoulders before embracing me.
“Oh, Candi, what am I going to do with you?” He suddenly goes very still. I lean back slightly so I can look at his face.
For some strange reason, he looks as if he’s been hit over the head with a shovel and is completely stunned senseless. His eyes have widened so much that they look as if they’re about to take over his face. Thankfully, the freaky red in his eyes has gone.
“Are you okay?” I ask, feeling very worried that the answer might be a no. I watch him blink a couple of times and almost see the exact moment he comes to some conclusion or another.
Looking down at me, he glides his hands down my back and over my wrists to take hold of my hands. Slowly, he walks backward, bringing me with him until he reaches the bed. Sitting down on the edge of it, he tugs me slightly until I’m sitting beside him. Releasing one of my hands, he grasps me gently by the chin, holding me firmly so I’m looking him directly in the eyes.
“What did you feel just before you cast your last spell on the battlefield?”
I feel my back instantly stiffening. I try to jerk my chin out of his grip, but his hold is tighter than I thought, and his hand holding mine tightens.
“Answer the question, please. What did you feel just before—”
“I heard your question,” I snarl at him. “I felt… hopeless, terrified, as if we were all about to die, and I felt so much rage and anger.” Tears fill up my vision, my nose feels clogged up, and I really, really want to be alone right now so I can cry.
The Protectors Page 15
