Vengeance From The Dark (D'Vaire Book 3)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “I would be your friend but I will not step beyond the border meant only to protect me from wandering too far from home. Surely you can see my blindness, I am told the sight of my pupil-less eyes are impossible to miss.”

  “Very well, Edion. Will you meet me here tomorrow? We can work on this friendship of yours.”

  “I would like that,” Edion said as he bent his head toward the ground. Although Lorcan had seemed strange at times, he did wish to get to know him better. “Be well.”

  “Until tomorrow,” Lorcan replied after another of his strange breaks in the conversation. Edion gave a small nod of his head and turned away from the sound of the other elf’s voice and began counting the steps he needed to return to his home. He was rather excited by the idea of sharing his unusual day with his family.

  * * *

  Lorcan watched Talfryn walk toward the giant house and with a wave of his hand dismissed the apparition of himself that had stood so close to the magical barrier and conversed with Edion. Knowing that a strong sorcerer lived among this family of what Lorcan now knew were dragons, he was cautious not to get too close and alert the others in Talfryn’s home to his presence. After all, the elf called them family and he doubted any caring family would wish to know that the harbinger of Talfryn’s demise was so very close to them.

  Their conversation had not gone the way Lorcan had imagined it would when he’d thought about it countless times over the centuries. He had not been prepared to see Talfryn looking so different from his memories. His still-beautiful hair was tied back loosely from his face. The color was the same, but the style was vastly different. Talfryn had grown up the child of chieftains and then had become a chieftain himself.

  Elves used beads to decorate their hair that was often worn long. Talfryn had been no different and had always kept his hair adorned with beads of lavender and after meeting Lorcan had added ones of black. Lorcan had often spent hours braiding the silky strands and sliding in the beads Talfryn took so much time designing with the tribe’s metalworker. As a chieftain, Talfryn had worn twice as many beads as an unranked elf. Lorcan had loved the admiring glances Talfryn had received from all that saw him.

  Now his creative mate looked like a peasant with his hair so simply worn, Lorcan thought as he contemplated the changes in Talfryn’s appearance. The hair, he decided, was only the tip of the iceberg. His mating marks were missing as were the rings in his ears. Lorcan could only guess as to what type of magic could wreak such havoc on what had once been such a stunning face. It had not helped that he was forced to be so far from Talfryn during their exchange.

  The most shocking part of seeing Talfryn again had been his eyes. Gone were the gorgeous pale lilac eyes Lorcan had stared into the day they had traded blood and become bonded mates. In their place were white globes that offered no window to see inside Talfryn’s emotions. Sightless orbs in a lopsided face served him right for allowing such a spell cast to forget his life with Lorcan.

  He called himself Edion now, Lorcan thought with disgust. He decided he didn’t really care what Talfryn bothered to call himself—his fate was the same. All Lorcan had to do was convince Talfryn they were friends and that he had nothing to fear by stepping beyond the protective bubble. Then he would end his sad life with their athame.

  But first, he decided, he would figure out how to uncast the spell that rendered his memories forgotten. Talfryn would remember how he’d left nothing but a note behind saying he was no longer going to live his life amongst demons. Lorcan was going to make sure Talfryn recalled all those promises his lying tongue had made. Before his death, Talfryn would know why he had to die.

  Chapter 6

  Flipping his dark gray hood over his head, Gavrael D’Vaire stepped into the shadows, making himself disappear. At his side, his mate, Gedeon D’Vaire, mirrored his actions. Every day of their lives, they practiced dissolving their bodies into nothing and trained diligently with their poisoned daggers. Today wasn’t about their daily practice, so the pair had donned their cloaks and were now preparing to step outside of D’Vaire land to find what very well could be an imaginary stranger.

  For the past several days, the newest member of their household had arrived at dinner speaking of an elf he’d met at the edge of their property. The D’Vaires were not sure what to make of the stories. The powerful sorcerers that lived among them had sensed nothing. Dra’Kaedan’s potent spell to encase the estate in magic was an almost living entity. He had designed it to allow him to detect anything close to it, and yet the warlock could feel no elven presence.

  Although none of them had wanted to think it, let alone say it, they could not rule out the possibility that this elf was simply a figment of Edion’s imagination. That morning Brogan had decided—whatever the case may be, they needed more information. If there was someone prowling outside their land, the D’Vaires wanted to know more. With the heightened abilities of necromancer sentinels, it was Gavrael who had volunteered the services of both himself and his mate.

  Expert trackers and trained assassins, Gavrael knew if there was any elven about, he and Gedeon would be able to locate a trace of him. Stalking through Dravyn’s dense garden with Gedeon at his side, Gavrael concentrated on the world around him. Now, all he could feel was the powerful essence of the green dragon that tended these many plants each day. Duke Dravyn D’Vairedraconis’s life-force was so strong amongst all the shrubbery he cultivated that Gavrael was half expecting him to be standing close by even though he knew the man was in the house conversing with his sister, Noirin.

  “The flowers sing loudly today,” Gedeon said to Gavrael through the mind-link they had discovered after completing their matebond. Indeed, the flowers crooned a happy tune of their masterful gardener. It always stunned Gavrael to hear it as he had been told that only druids had the ability to make their blossoms buzz with joy. Dragons, Gavrael knew, couldn’t hear the voices of the plants, so he had never mentioned to Dravyn the beautiful songs he and Gedeon heard when they practiced outside each day with their daggers.

  “They are missing Dravyn,” Gavrael replied, speaking telepathically to his mate.

  “Guess we better hurry the hell up then, so he can get back out here.”

  “We’re getting closer to the barrier.”

  Their dark gray boots were eating up the distance quickly, and the pair soon found themselves beyond the melodic garden and in the area where Edion traveled each day. The blind elf’s presence was thick here, and Gavrael knew they were in the right place. Gavrael came to a stop as he reached out with his magic to try and locate a second elf, but he found nothing. He turned his head slightly to the left and even under the heavy cloak, he could make out the pale minty green eyes he loved. Giving Gedeon a nod, he signaled to him that he was ready to cross Dra’Kaedan’s barrier.

  Gedeon offered him a roguish smile in return and in a lightning quick move had his lips pressed to Gavrael’s. Reaching up and grabbing Gedeon’s face in his hands, Gavrael tilted his head and opened his mouth to deepen their kiss. Gedeon’s response was immediate; he let out a soft moan as he took a step closer and pressed their bodies together. Unable to resist the temptation of his mate, Gavrael soon found all his blood draining south.

  Telepathy was not their only gift from Fate; Gavrael could also sense Gedeon’s emotions when they stood close. While molded together so intimately, all Gavrael could feel was Gedeon’s desire interlaced with his own. Unfortunately, they were not going to be able to do anything about it now, Gavrael thought as he withdrew his tongue and gave his mate one final smooch before resting their cloaked foreheads together.

  “Geddy, we will make love later. We have a task to complete.”

  “Of course, Gav. It just wouldn’t do for us to interrupt our schedule.” Gavrael could feel his mate’s humor and was happy he had not upset him by ending their impromptu kisses. He lifted his head and dropped his hands from where they still rested on Gedeon’s face. Taking a deep breath to get his body back under contr
ol, Gavrael studiously ignored the sight of Gedeon pressing his hand down on the front of his dark pants. His mate might be suffering a bit now but that night, as he did each night, he would pamper and love him until they were both beyond satisfied.

  “You ready?” Gedeon asked, just before he crossed Dra’Kaedan’s magic shell. Gavrael gave a nod and followed him.

  The pair came to a standstill just a few steps beyond D’Vaire land. Releasing all his sexual tension, Gavrael concentrated on the world around him just as he had done before Gedeon had touched their lips together. Beyond the warlock’s barrier, there were no singing plants happy to be tended by a master gardener. The D’Vaires lived in a remote part of western Arizona, elevated high above sea level and teeming with desert flora and fauna. Gavrael could feel the plant life rich around him but was unable to find any trace of an elven presence.

  “I feel nothing,” Gedeon said in his mind, echoing his own thoughts.

  “He hurts no one by conversing with someone who exists only in his head. I know I speak my best when I say it only in my own mind.”

  “While that may have been true once, you say some pretty good shit to me. Especially when we’re naked.”

  “Your body is very inspiring. I could almost write poetry when you toss your clothes onto the floor.” Gavrael sent his thoughts to his mate and was quite proud of the fact that he was able to joke with him. Words did not always flow easily from Gavrael’s brain to his mouth, but Gedeon constantly reminded him that not everything he verbalized needed to be perfect—it just needed to be said.

  “Come on hot stuff, let’s walk around a bit more and then head back to the house. I think I need a bath after all this traipsing around.”

  “Your bath is after dinner, Geddy,” Gavrael replied and watched as Gedeon, still invisible, tossed back his hood. He turned toward Gavrael and gave an exaggerated eye-roll.

  “Keep it up, Gav, and you are going to have to light candles and everything.”

  “Candles won’t be necessary tonight. I bought a vibrator to use on you,” Gavrael said in as formal a tone as he could manage. After he sent the words to Gedeon, his mate’s eyes rounded in surprise. Then he reached up and flipped his cloak back over his head.

  “Hurry the hell up and figure out if there was an elf here,” Gedeon said as he began prowling around. “And it’s totally your fault if I choke on my dinner because I’m trying to inhale it.”

  Putting his arm on Gedeon’s to get his attention, their eyes met and Gavrael gave him one of his rare smiles. “I cannot wait to see how it makes you feel either.”

  Gedeon returned his grin before narrowing his eyes and scrunching up his forehead and issuing a single order: “Get back to work.”

  Nodding at the man he loved and releasing his arm, Gavrael did as he was told though he already knew the pair would be returning home to tell their family that this Lorcan was nothing more than Edion’s imagination. Gavrael hoped it wasn’t because the elf found himself lonely without any of his own kind around. When Gavrael had first joined the household, the D’Vaires had assumed he lacked companionship and summoned Gedeon to live among them. Now that Gavrael knew what a miracle it was to have Gedeon at his side, he thought perhaps it was time for the D’Vaires to bring another elf into their family. Gavrael thought that if Edion were lucky, it would turn out to be his mate and his life would be all the richer for it.

  Chapter 7

  Edion muttered to himself as he counted the steps that would lead him to Dravyn’s garden. As he had done for the past few days, he was heading to speak with his new friend Lorcan. He was blind, not deaf, so he had heard the whispers throughout his household. Edion knew his family thought he was out there talking to himself. It made little sense that the sentinels had not been able to find any trace of Lorcan, but Edion was already aware that things with this elf were not normal.

  While elves did not cast spells, they were magical beings. Their bodies healed fast, the fastest among Council members who were not undead like sentinels and fallen knights. That superb ability was what gave them the potential for an immortal life. Sorcerers and elves were capable of sensing the race of a person if it was one they had encountered before and could recognize. But Edion could get no sense of Lorcan’s presence. He only knew that he was an elf because he had told Edion so.

  Since that first day, Edion had learned little more about Lorcan. Their conversations had been brief and mostly about inconsequential things like the current weather or the shrubbery at his back. This strange desire to continue to walk out here to speak to a mysterious stranger was unexplainable to Edion. There were plenty of interesting people to talk to in his large house, and yet here he was, hoping to speak with Lorcan again.

  “You are scaring all the plants in your large garden with that muttering,” Lorcan said and Edion came to a stop. He was barely close enough to the barrier to feel the electric buzz. A strange bubble of joy worked its way through him at the sound of Lorcan’s voice. He couldn’t figure out why he was so happy to be in this elf’s presence.

  “My family believes you to be a figment of my imagination. I am annoyed.”

  “Perhaps I am,” Lorcan said in the same level voice he used most often. Edion found him difficult to read but then, they had only known each other for less than a week.

  “You are as real as I am,” Edion said.

  “Better to think I am imaginary than a danger.”

  “I would be a fool to think you are safe. You wish me to leave the protective barrier of my family’s land. I can think of no purpose for that.”

  “If you wish to discover my intentions, I am afraid you must join me on the other side of your magical fence.”

  “Let us speak of other things. I do not wish to quarrel with you,” Edion said.

  “Of course, shall we discuss the weather again today?”

  “It is much the same as it was yesterday.”

  “Yes, hot enough to boil an elf. Why could you not live somewhere cooler?”

  “You say that as if you meant to find me,” Edion replied as he cocked his head to the side as he tried in vain to understand this strange man.

  “I did mean to find you, Talfryn.”

  “I have told you my name is Edion. I think you may suffer from a malady of the mind.”

  “I do believe you may be right,” Lorcan said and Edion detected some humor in his voice.

  “You confuse me with your Talfryn. Do we look so similar?”

  “Talfryn was never mine. The color of your hair is the same.”

  “Then you know I was once Cwylld,” Edion replied and hoped Lorcan did not think less of him due to his former tribe. His tribe was reviled by nearly everyone.

  “Yes. Your separation from the Cwylld is a recent one. Tell me, do Chieftain Aniernan and Chieftess Taliya still rule over the few that remain?”

  Edion furrowed his brow at Lorcan’s words. He seemed to know a great deal about the Cwylld and even Edion’s life in recent months. Once again, he considered the danger of speaking with Lorcan, and Edion began rubbing his hands together to soothe himself. He saw no reason to lie and replied, “Yes, they rule, still.”

  “You are nervous. Why would speaking of them bring you fear?”

  “I have told you I do not like speaking of the Cwylld.”

  “Very well, what do you wish to speak of?” Lorcan asked. Edion took a calming breath and dropped his hands to his sides. Although Lorcan continued to scare him, he was compelled to ask more questions.

  “You believed Talfryn to once be yours and yet elven lack all sexuality before we meet our mates.”

  “You are clever. Talfryn was…is…my mate.”

  Edion let that information sink into his brain and suddenly, he realized Lorcan’s mate was Cwylld and yet he had never heard of him. Not in a thousand years had anyone ever said the name Talfryn. The Cwylld had never been so vast that a single elf would go unnoticed and since Lorcan still lived, so must his Talfryn. As magickind once blood-bo
nded, elves died together. “I do not understand this.”

  “What is to understand? He is my mate though I curse the day I ever met him,” Lorcan said with such harshness in his voice that a shiver raced down Edion’s spine.

  “No, that is not what I meant. You say Talfryn had hair like mine, yet only Cwylld elves have both blond and lavender hair. I have never heard the name before my chance meeting with you.”

  “Your chieftains, did you spend much time with them?”

  “A great deal—they saw to me after the illness that left me as you see me today.”

  “You must have a great deal of caring for them.”

  “I do not. They were not the kindest of people. I was left often to starve and stink.”

  “And living so close to them, you never heard the name Talfryn?”

  “Not once. It is not a name I think one would forget.”

  “True, though I wish it to be different. Talfryn is the son of your chieftains,” Lorcan said and Edion’s mouth popped open. The elf’s words were impossible to believe; all the Cwylld knew the chieftains had never had any offspring.

  “You are mistaken. And my family thinks I am the one with a wild imagination! The chieftains never had any children. Not this Talfryn, not any at all. Cadlyr, their trusted guard, once said to me that any child born of them would suffer greatly, and I would have to agree.”

  “Cadlyr. So, he lives still?”

  “You know of Cadlyr?”