So what was going on?
Greta appeared equally suspicious. Her pretty features were hard as she glared down at Levet.
“Where is she?”
Levet waggled his brows. “Closer than you think,” he murmured in what he no doubt hoped was a mysterious voice. “But farther than you can touch.”
Greta jerked her head from side to side, as if expecting to see the young female walking over a nearby hill.
“You’re lying,” she spat out.
Brigette stepped forward, drawing the woman’s attention back to her. The gargoyle was presumably trying to help, but his babbling was as likely to get them killed as to save them.
“Are you willing to risk the opportunity to capture her?” Brigette demanded. “All I have to do is say the word and Levet will send her running from this place.”
The woman twisted her lips, no doubt preparing to tell Brigette to go to the netherworld. As if Brigette hadn’t been stuck in a hell of her own making for the past five hundred years. But before she could speak, she whirled to the side, her hand reaching out.
Brigette sucked in a deep breath. Was there someone coming? She couldn’t sense anything. Just the endless hills covered in sage and moss. But Greta might have the power to detect anyone entering this particular dimension. Or maybe she was just crazy.
Right now it didn’t matter.
Greta remained staring into the darkness for several seconds, then with a jerky motion she grabbed the brooch at her neckline and yanked it off. The sheer material of her gown ripped, but she didn’t seem to notice as she tossed the piece of jewelry toward Brigette.
“Fine. Here’s your reward.”
Brigette snatched it out of midair, staring at the piece of jewelry in confusion. “What is it?”
“Make your wish with it.”
Brigette cradled the brooch in the palm of her hand. It was beautiful. Each strand of silver was delicately interwoven layer by layer to form the symbolic knot. And in the very center was a pale stone that she hadn’t noticed when she’d first caught sight of the ornament.
She bent closer. She didn’t recognize the stone. It didn’t have the fiery brilliance of a diamond or the blueish hue of an aquamarine. It almost looked like a piece of plastic stuck in the middle of the knot.
“I make a wish with this?” she asked, wondering if the woman was trying to fool her with a piece of junk she’d found in a pawnshop.
“That’s what I said,” Greta snapped.
“But—”
“Begone.” With a wave of her hand, Greta spoke a magical spell in a language that Brigette didn’t understand.
There was a swoosh of air, as if someone had opened a massive door behind them. Brigette clutched the strange brooch, stumbling as the wind pulled her backward. It felt like a black hole had formed and they were being ruthlessly sucked inside it.
Beside her Levet flapped his wings, his eyes wide as he struggled against the gravitational pull; then, with a cry of frustration, he lost his balance and was inhaled into the darkness.
Brigette watched him disappear a second before she was pulled in behind him.
Chapter 19
Basq wrapped his arms around Chaaya a second before they tumbled out of the doorway and landed on the hard ground. He managed to take the worst of the impact, bruising his ribs and jarring his fangs, but it was Chaaya who gasped as if in pain.
Rising to his feet, his pulled her upright, scanning for any visible injuries.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when he didn’t see any blood or protruding bones.
Chaaya stepped past him, her gaze locked on the collection of huts that circled a blazing firepit.
“This is my home,” she breathed.
“Home?” Basq frowned. A vampire couldn’t sense magic, but even he knew they were in another dimension.
She shrugged. “It looks exactly like the village where I lived as a child,” she told him. “As if someone scooped it up and placed it in this new spot.”
“Are you sure?” he carefully demanded. Glancing around, he could see the rolling hills that appeared barren beneath the midnight sky before returning his attention to the nearby buildings. “It looks like any other village to me.”
Almost as if she was in a dream, Chaaya glided forward. She circled the large pit, the glow of the firelight tinting her skin and shimmering against the tattoos snaking down her neck.
Basq watched her in fascination. It was as if he was seeing her in her natural habitat for the first time. A proud Celtic warrior who could face down any enemy.
He shook himself out of his weird sense of fascination as she reached the largest building in the center of the village.
“This was our home,” she murmured, touching the heavy wooden door that was scarred with glyphs. “I remember the day my mother carved this. It was her personal protective spell.”
“You speak of your mother, but never of your father,” Basq pointed out.
She dropped her hand and turned to face him. “I come from a very long line of druid priestesses.”
“I assume you still had a father?”
She shrugged. “I never knew him. Not even his name.”
Basq was surprised. In the past, human cultures had a long, tedious history of placing the emphasis on the males. It didn’t matter if the father participated in the child rearing or not, fathers were always given the reverence for creating a baby while the mothers were often shoved into the background. The fact that Chaaya didn’t know who her father was seemed odd.
“Did he come from this village?” he demanded.
She looked confused at his question. “Only females were allowed here,” she said. “When my mother decided it was time for her to have a child, she traveled to London.”
Ah. That would explain her mother’s ability to keep the father a secret. But why?
“She never told you anything about him?”
Chaaya shook her head. “He was incidental after my mother became pregnant.”
“Harsh.”
She shrugged, as if she’d come to terms with the fact that she would never know anything about the man who’d fathered her. He didn’t know why the thought bothered him. As a vampire he’d awoken with no memory of who he’d been when he was a human. That had been fine with him. He had no interest in learning anything about his previous life.
“My mother was focused on her duty as the head priestess,” she told him. “Nothing was allowed to distract her. Not even her daughter.”
“So true, my dear,” a female voice drawled.
With a curse, Basq spun around, his fangs bared as he stepped between Chaaya and the unknown female who was stepping out of the darkness. Why the hell hadn’t he sensed her? Was she an illusion or…?
His mind went blank as the woman stepped into the glow of the firelight and he caught sight of her face.
She looked exactly like Chaaya.
He hissed in shock, moving to stand between the mystery creature and Chaaya. It had to be a trick.
“Stay back,” he warned, his darkness beginning to spread toward Chaaya. He could keep her hidden while he discovered a way to escape this latest trap.
“There’s no need for threats, vampire,” the woman murmured, her gauzy gown drifting on a soft breeze as she moved toward him. As she neared, Basq could start to pick out differences between her and Chaaya. The stranger’s features were sharper, her nose longer, and her eyes a shade lighter. Plus, she didn’t have any tattoos. “I have no intention of harming my niece.”
“Niece?” Chaaya moved to stand next to Basq, ignoring his frown of warning. “Who are you?”
The woman blinked, as if startled by the question. “Don’t you remember?”
Chaaya furrowed her brow, studying the face that looked so much like her own. At last she sucked in a sharp br
eath.
“Greta?” She spoke the name tentatively, as if it was pulled out of the deep recesses of her mind.
“Yes.” The woman smiled, reaching out her hand as if she would touch Chaaya.
Basq growled low in his throat, fulling exposing his fangs. Greta glared, but she hastily dropped her hand, her lips pinching together with annoyance.
Next to him, Chaaya barely seemed to notice the exchange. In fact, she had a disoriented expression that troubled Basq. He was used to this female being razor sharp and on constant guard. Her distraction was a sign of just how unsettled she was to land in the middle of her old village. And it didn’t help to be confronted by a creature who claimed to be a long lost relative.
It had clearly rattled her.
“You were driven from the village when I was barely more than a baby,” she finally muttered.
“Driven?” Greta repeated in confusion. “Is that what Keyrah told you?”
Chaaya nodded. “My mother said that you were caught using black magic.”
“Foul lies.” Greta lifted her fingers to her mouth, looking aghast. “I didn’t think even Keyrah would stoop to such depths.”
Chaaya simply stared at Greta as if unsure how to respond. Or maybe she was just trying to decide if the woman was a strange illusion sent by the power-controlling Brigette to distract her.
If that was the case, it was doing a hell of a job.
Assuming that Keyrah was Chaaya’s mom, Basq took command of the conversation.
“Are you saying that Chaaya’s mother lied to her?” he asked.
Greta slowly turned her head, stabbing him with an annoyed glare. Did she hate vampires? Or was she worried that he might interfere in her nefarious plans for Chaaya?
“She did,” she finally forced herself to say.
“So why were you forced to leave?”
Greta sniffed in disdain. “I wasn’t forced. I fled.”
Basq narrowed his eyes. “Why would you flee? A woman alone at such a point in history would have been far too vulnerable to survive.”
With a deliberate motion, Greta turned back to Chaaya as if determined to cut him out of the conversation.
“I left because your mother was determined to sacrifice me,” she told Chaaya.
Chaaya blinked, stunned by the blunt words. “You were supposed to be the sacrifice?”
Greta grimaced. “Yes. I’m so sorry, dear Chaaya.”
Taking a step to the side, Basq wrapped an arm around Chaaya’s shoulders. At the same time, he kept his gaze firmly locked on the stranger.
“I don’t trust her,” he stated in firm tones.
A smoldering fury flared through Greta’s eyes before it was quickly hidden. Not soon enough, however. Chaaya instinctively pressed against his side as if seeking the reassurance of his touch.
“Neither do I,” she softly murmured.
A strange emotion rippled over Greta’s face. Not pain that her niece didn’t trust her. Not regret. No. It was something closer to fear. Then, as if aware she was revealing more than she intended, the woman forced a small smile to her lips.
“I understand.” She once again held out her hand. “Please, I can explain everything if you will just listen.”
Basq hissed in warning, his fangs fully extended. “Talk fast.”
If looks could kill, he would be a pile of ash. Thankfully, Greta’s vicious glare did nothing more than convince him that she was a danger to Chaaya.
Smoothing her hands down her sheer gown, the woman paused as if trying to regain command of her temper. Then she pasted the smile back on her lips.
“I was older than your mother, but it quickly became obvious she possessed the greater power,” Greta said, the words suspiciously smooth. “When the previous head priestess died, the role passed to her.”
“That must have pissed you off,” he said.
She was too smart to deny her desire to be head priestess. “I was disappointed, but resigned,” she admitted. “In our community we all have a role to play.”
“And what was yours?” Basq demanded.
The woman waved an arm toward the huts. “To be a source of support to the head priestess. I performed the morning rituals and kept watch over Chaaya.” She paused, studying the silent Chaaya with an expression of utter devotion. “She was like my own child.”
Basq swallowed his laugh of disbelief. He didn’t have Chiron’s ability to peek into the minds of others to read their thoughts, but he didn’t need to with this woman. She gave a charming performance of a loving sister and aunt, but Basq didn’t doubt for a second that she’d spent her life consumed with a burning jealousy toward her younger sister. The ruthless ambition that drove her life had been etched into her narrow face, and the scent of envy was embedded in her very skin.
“So what happened?” he asked.
“My sister never trusted that I had accepted her leadership.” She sent Chaaya another one of those melting looks. “Or perhaps she was jealous of my relationship with her daughter. Chaaya considered me her mother, not Keyrah.”
Basq glanced toward Chaaya, who was standing as still as a statue. Perhaps she feared the slightest movement might shatter her.
“Is that true?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She shook her head, her gaze remaining locked on Greta. “I don’t remember.”
“You were so young when I had to leave,” Greta cooed. “It’s no wonder you don’t remember.”
Basq pulled Chaaya closer. He had full confidence that she would soon be back to her usual kick-ass self. For now, however, she was vulnerable and in need of his protection.
He glanced back at Greta. “You said you were going to be sacrificed?”
“Yes.” She lifted her fingers to touch her neckline, then she frowned as if she’d expected to find something there that was missing. She gave a small shake of her head and continued. “Word came to our village that a great evil was threatening the world. I offered to travel to speak with the other druid villages. I was certain that if we combined our magic, we could defeat any threat.”
“And Keyrah?”
“She decided it would be better to work with the local coven.”
Basq raised a brow. It did seem odd that Keyrah would choose to work with witches rather than the other druids.
“Did she say why?” he asked.
Greta shrugged. “She claimed that the only way to prevent disaster was to offer one of our priestesses as a sacrifice.”
Basq felt Chaaya shudder. Was she remembering being dragged from this very village? Being held down by strangers and having her throat sliced?
The temperature dropped several degrees. He would give everything he possessed to destroy those responsible for harming Chaaya. Unfortunately, he couldn’t yank them from their graves. And right now he didn’t dare allow himself to be distracted.
He leashed his temper, but a layer of frost continued to coat the landscape, hissing as it hit the flames.
“You didn’t believe her?” he demanded.
Greta blinked. Either she hadn’t expected the question or she was unnerved by the ice clinging to the hem of her gown.
“I…” She stopped to clear her throat and square her shoulders. “I feared she was seeking a way to get rid of me.”
Basq arched a brow. It was a lame excuse. Clearly, she hadn’t gone to the effort of practicing a better one. Sloppy.
“Keyrah was the head priestess, wasn’t she?” he pointed out. “Couldn’t she just order you to leave if she didn’t want you around?”
Realizing she’d lost ground, Greta turned back to Chaaya. She no doubt hoped that the younger female would be an easier touch.
“The others in the village would have rioted if I had been hounded out of the village,” she insisted. “I was a favorite.”
“So y
ou left.” Chaaya’s tone was flat, her expression impossible to read. It was only because Basq was intimately connected to her that he could sense the emotions churning deep inside.
“Yes.” Greta pressed her hands to her heart. “I never dreamed she could be cruel enough to murder her own daughter.”
Basq squeezed Chaaya tighter, taking back control of the conversation. “Why would she sacrifice her daughter if she was trying to get rid of you? You were already gone, right?”
The flames in the pit suddenly shot higher. The female was clearly connected to them. She was probably connected everything in this place.
“I assume she saw her as a threat as well. There was no mistaking Chaaya’s power, even when she was just a babe.” The muscles in Greta’s jaw bulged as she clenched her teeth. “It was only a matter of time before she took over as head priestess.”
“You’re saying Chaaya was sacrificed because her mother feared she would grow up to become the next head priestess?” Basq asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.
“Who knows what was in Keyrah’s mind?” With a curse of frustration, Greta whirled toward Chaaya. “Does this vampire speak for you, niece?”
* * * *
Troy slipped into the small, forgotten closet at the end of the dungeons. The air was musty, and salt coated the walls, a sure indication that no one had bothered to open the door in years. Maybe centuries. Thankfully his curious nature insisted that he investigate each nook or cranny. Who knew what treasures might be hidden away? That meant he knew more about the mer-folk castle than most of the residents who’d been there forever.
A bonus he used to his advantage as he followed Riza from the throne room through the maze of corridors. The guard was lost in his dark thoughts, making it a simple matter to stroll behind him, heading lower and lower, until he at last reached the dungeons.
Troy waited until the merman entered an empty cell before he silently darted into the closet, leaving the door cracked so he could see out. Then he waited. And waited. With a grimace, he brushed his hands down his silk shirt. It felt like the salt in the air was eating through the thin material.
Shades of Darkness Page 19
