Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  “I’m taking him to my chambers,” Elsie assured us, still cradling her servant easily. “I need to clean him off anyhow.”

  “Do you trust us to send them all to the witches’ holding rooms?” Draven inquired behind us. Elsie nodded absently, heading for her rooms without a backward glance. It would be less magic overall to transport them as a group into the cellblock than to force them to stand and walk the several flights of stairs and the numerous hallways it would take to reach them. I tugged on the blood that remained on the floor—clearly belonging to the servants who had attacked Ash—as I spun it into a portal. Draven forced the assailants through, shoving them hard so they’d land against the stone below the portal’s access point. They’d be sealed there, unable to escape, until we pulled them out again. The magic that was built into the rooms prevented them from killing themselves before we could.

  It was a handy spell, long since forgotten by most witches, and one I took particular pleasure in. I’d adapted several versions to help lengthen the lifespan of those I tortured, though unfortunately none were instant spells—they all required intricate spellwork that had to be done in advance. I had yet to find an emergency alternative that could be used for battle or situations like the one we were in today.

  “Well, that was fun,” Draven growled, his pale face covered in sweat. Draven and I had been heading toward Elsie’s chambers to begin our research for the day after spending some time getting to know a few of the looser lipped coven members who were in residence here. The sound of screams had caught our attention when we realized they came from the hidden flight of servants’ stairs. It was an odd place for a vampire to take their prey, and curiosity had won out. “What do you think of the fact that she took the debt?” His tone was serious, even as he began the small spell that would energize us, his hands tracing a rapid series of symbols in the air. It wouldn’t be perfect, we’d still need actual rest, but the spell would bolster our small reserves.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted, brushing at my sweat soaked hair, breathing in deeply as the spell tingled over my skin.

  “She can’t know what it means,” he muttered, his head angling back as he inhaled deeply, letting himself recharge.

  “She’s the princess,” I pointed out, shivering at the pleasure the magic caused as it pumped through me. “She would have been trained on debts and oaths, otherwise she wouldn’t have even thought to mention it.” As shocking as it was that she had accepted his life debt, it was just as much of a surprise that she had refused to turn him. In his weakened state, a few drops of her blood would probably have been enough to make him a vampire. Yet knowing his distaste for her species, she had automatically rejected the notion as if it wasn’t even worth considering.

  “I don’t like things I can’t explain,” Draven muttered to himself. He glanced over to the pooled blood, the spell for the portal having used every drop. I released the barrier preventing others from accessing the area now that we had recharged slightly, and indicated for him to lead the way up the stairs. I hadn’t been willing to drop it before we had more reserves in us, despite the toll it took. Better safe than sorry and all that jazz.

  When I had burst into Elsie’s room to grab her, she had been furious, launching herself toward me, but as soon as I’d said her pet’s name, she was scrambling after me, not even pausing to see if I was lying or to ask for an explanation. I couldn’t tell if it was the bond that made her so protective of her charge, even to the point of endangering herself by following a witch into unknown territory, or if it was who she was. Like Draven, I didn’t care for the unexplainable. Even magic had logic to it, but the idea that Elsie was simply that caring was something I couldn’t wrap my mind around.

  It went against everything we had ever learned about vampires, both in our studies and our own personal experiences. Again and again, we had seen their cruelty, their stubbornness, their unflinching glee in the face of the darkness they reveled in. Many didn’t even care for their own families, putting their self-preservation above all else, an innate instinct they couldn’t break. Yet she had done it now not once, but three times. She followed me without question, she refused to turn him, and then she offered herself in his place, again without guarantees of what the debt would require. A life debt was no small thing. It didn’t mean she actually had to die, but it did mean that aside from her own life—as it would invalidate us saving someone—we had free rein to ask of her what we wished. We could torture her, fuck her, or take anything she owned until the debt was settled. The debt wasn’t simply words, it was a magical oath, and now it was etched into our skin and hers as well. I looked down at the interwoven band of red, black, and deep blue that decorated my wrist. I knew without looking that both Draven and Elsie bore one also, a physical manifestation of the oath. It would remain there until the magic decided the price had been paid.

  No one knew exactly how the magic judged what was owed or the value of what was given in return. For some, it was as simple as claiming the physical possessions of those they had created the oath with. For others, the oath would mar their skin for decades as task after task was completed in return. Neither Draven nor I would be able to extend the oath—it was a master unto itself, weighed, judged, and decreed by the magic that made up the world around us.

  If Elsie refused to keep to the terms of the oath, denying Draven or me what we asked, the magic would take what it wanted without her consent—usually at the cost of life or limb depending on the strength of the oath. Upon completion, the bind would break away, fading into nothingness and proving the completion of the spell.

  It only took us minutes to reach Elsie’s suite, and we didn’t bother knocking as we slipped inside.

  Elsie had been working fast, I realized, as we saw Sebastian sprawled out on her bed. The man was still unconscious, which was not surprising after everything he had gone through. She had slipped his shirt from him—his pants had already been removed by the time we reached him—and was busy cleaning the blood from his skin with a soft cloth and a bowl of gently scented water she must have taken from the bathroom.

  “I need to change this out, if you don’t mind,” Elsie stated stiffly, sliding from the bed to head to the bathroom before returning with another bowl. Her hands were firm but gentle as she removed the blood from every inch of him, then she tugged the blankets over his form and turned to face us, settling the bowl onto the nightstand. She didn’t rise from the bed, merely inclining her head. “Thank you for saving him.” Her eyes were still hot with rage, her muscles clenched tightly as she glanced down at him. “I have not had a bonded pet before. I assumed I would feel if he was in trouble.”

  “Some do,” I told her, tugging chairs out for myself and Draven to settle into. While the spell had restored some of our magic, rest was as important for us right now as it was for Sebastian. “Usually those are pet bonds that have been built over time. Multiple feedings, constant intimate contact. Your bond is new—solid in a way, yet incredibly fragile in others. It is likely that if they had attempted to remove your marking from him then you would have felt it, but they appeared to have avoided that area.” She nodded her agreement as she studied us.

  “You wear the oath mark now,” Draven commented, indicating the same mark on her wrist. I firmly believed the penchant for marking pets with bracelets and medallions was a vampiric version of the witches’ oath marks, and from the grimace on Elsie’s face as her eyes darted to where Ash’s wrist lay over the covers displaying his band in all its glory, she thought the same.

  “Yes.” The word was stiff, but she didn’t try to deny it.

  “Why?” Draven asked, voicing the question we both needed an answer to. “Truthfully,” he added before she’d have a chance to lie.

  “Is that an oath demand?” she countered, arching a brow. Smart vampire. The oath wouldn’t just automatically give us what we wanted from her, we had to demand it as part of said oath and make a formal claim to the magic, or she did not have to give us w
hat we requested. He glanced at me before turning his attention back to Elsie. “Let’s just say it’s a question between colleagues.”

  Elsie stared him down, and I swallowed back the urge to chuckle. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t a laugher. That had always been Bran’s role in our group. Yet around Elsie, I had been forced to swallow a laugh, normally at my brother’s expense, on more than one occasion.

  He threw his hands into the air as she continued to stare, completely unflinching. “Fine. Yes. I’ll make an oath demand for the truth of why you took on his debt.” Warmth flared on my wrist as the magic acknowledged the request, but the marks stayed strong and bright. Unsurprising, since he was only asking a simple question and not requesting anything of monumental proportions.

  Elsie looked back at Sebastian, a frown creasing her brows. “I’m not fully sure,” she told us slowly, reaching up to tug on one of her curls in a gesture I’d never seen her do before. She was usually calm and collected, or outright radiating fury, but this quiet self-doubt and the absent distressed action were both new. “I partially did it because I truly believe in the bond I created. It is my duty to protect him as his life protects my own. I do not take oaths lightly, it’s why I haven’t bound anyone to me before. The idea of being responsible for someone, especially to this extent, wasn’t something I had ever wanted before I met him. There’s something about Sebastian that’s different. He isn’t like the other servants, the other humans, I’ve met in the past. There’s a fire in him, a strength in him, that draws me in, and I can’t not protect that.” From the grimace that passed over her face, it seemed the magic might have drawn a deeper answer from her than she would have preferred to give. She glared at Draven. “Since you’re requesting your debt now, is there something specific you have in mind?”

  Draven brightened immediately, a wicked smile curving his lips. Elsie rolled her eyes, obviously knowing she wouldn’t enjoy whatever he was thinking. “I want my dagger back, Elsie. On the oath, I demand its return.” Again heat flared over my wrist, and Elsie pouted. The colors on my wrist seemed to flicker slightly, some of their brilliance dimming, probably due to the importance of the dagger to Draven—and to me as well if I was being honest.

  “That’s just low. I won that fair and square,” she snarled. She didn’t hesitate though, even as she glared at Draven. I expected her to hop up and head to some secret hiding spot and nearly fell from my chair when she hitched the gold skirt of her dress up nearly to her waist. Strapped around the inside of her thigh in a tight band of cloth was the dagger. I could almost hear Draven swallow as she wiggled it from the sheath and tossed it to him. He snatched it from the air with ease, beginning his old routine of spinning it. “I’ll take it from you once more if you disrespect me again,” she warned with a growl as she dropped her skirt, though there didn’t seem to be much heat behind her threat as she glanced back at Sebastian’s unconscious form.

  “Do you think he’ll sleep for much longer?” Even as I asked the question he stirred, his eyelids fluttering. Hopefully his head was clear, because I certainly wanted some answers regarding what we walked in on, then I wanted to watch Elsie tear those humans apart. I had a feeling it would be a sight to behold.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elsie

  Sebastian shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not concerned regarding what percentage I owe to each of you. You all saved me. I owe you all.”

  “You owe us nothing,” I growled at him. “I assumed your debt to them, they cannot call on you for anything regarding their rescue. You owe me nothing because your safety is already my responsibility until I have dissolved our bond.” Sebastian grimaced as if he objected, but I squeezed his hand to distract him. Surprising me, he didn’t pull away from the touch. “Tell me what happened, pet. How did you end up in that stairway? How did you end up with whatever that was?”

  Sebastian sighed deeply. “That is the stairway I usually take to your rooms. When I reached the landing, I was accosted by them.”

  “Why?” Crowe’s cool voice interrupted the silence Sebastian had lapsed into, and I wanted to hiss at him.

  “They’re worshippers,” Sebastian explained. “I never have been.” He glanced up at me through his thick lashes, and it didn’t take much for me to remember what we had spoken about last night.

  “They were the type I warned you about.” It wasn’t a question, but he made a bobbing motion with his head.

  “Some were,” he admitted, a slightly green hue coloring his face.

  “What kind? What warning?” Draven was nosy as hell, and I ground my teeth together. I wanted to kick them out, to get the truth from Sebastian myself, but they were a part of this whether I liked it or not, the bastards. They had saved Sebastian, they deserved to hear the truth of how it had come to pass. It wasn’t as though I could claim that truth as part of my oath either—it was Sebastian’s to give, not mine.

  “Some humans who wish to become vampires will eat their own kind,” I informed them without turning to look. Both drew in sharp breaths, and for a moment, I thought I heard one of them gag. “It’s a fairly common scenario, actually.”

  “They were offended that a non-worshipper was your pet,” Sebastian elucidated, swallowing hard. “They…” He trailed off, his eyes going dark. “They said they frequently get rid of pets who aren’t worshippers. That they don’t deserve the position. That when they do, certain vampires will reward them for it by accepting them as pets themselves.” A snarl ripped from my lips. There were vampires in my castle who would so blatantly break the pet bonds? Who would go behind my back, my parents’ backs, and work with the human servants to violate one of our sacred laws?

  “Did they say who?” My voice didn’t even sound like my own, the tone harsh and guttural.

  “No.” His brow creased as he considered it. “I don’t even know if they technically said they were vampires. Just that they would be rewarded.”

  “Fuck.” Crowe’s chair toppled over as he hopped to his feet to pace. “Elsie, I know he is your pet, but would you allow us to be there when you exact whatever vengeance you’re intending? I assume it won’t be fast, and if they spill information our spells can verify if what they say is true.”

  “If there are witches involved in this mess, we need to know about it,” Draven growled. “We’ll make it an oath bond if you need us to.”

  “No,” I hissed. “I won’t make this part of the bond. I’ll ensure you’re there.” I wanted the spells as much as they did for verification of anything the humans might spill while I tore them to pieces. I breathed deeply, forcing the blood lust down. Soon, soon I would bathe in their blood while I laughed at their pain, but now I needed to know everything. “Pet, tell me what they did to you.”

  Sebastian froze, his breath coming in short gasps as his eyes glazed over, and I knew he was reliving his pain. “Easy, Ash,” Crowe murmured, stepping forward to crouch beside the bed, setting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sebastian’s eyes snapped to the witch as he pulled himself from the memory. “If you’ll allow it, I can pull the memory from you. You won’t reexperience it while I do,” he assured him gently. I couldn’t help but stare. I’d never seen Crowe this soft before. He was always cold, even when he wore the same mask of politeness as Sebastian tended to.

  “Will it be removed completely?” He seemed unsure while he studied the witch, his hand flexing hard before knotting back into a fist. “I-I’m not sure I want it gone entirely.” Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Not until they pay.” Ah, there it was. I nearly purred at the ominous promise in his voice. The idea of Sebastian making his torturers pay was something I could get behind. I’d happily supply him with anything he desired so I could watch him work his way through them. I was only mildly sorry I had already killed a handful of them and he’d have fewer to act on.

  “It will remain,” Crowe told him. “I will take nothing else. I simply need your permission.” His eyes were glowing faintly, though they weren’t the dark
red they had been earlier. This magic was either easier to work, or his power levels were too low for a physical manifestation.

  Sebastian hesitated for only the briefest of moments before murmuring his approval. Apparently things were changing in his mind. I doubted if he would have even allowed one of the witches to touch him yesterday, let alone to work any type of magic on him. Something inside me squeezed tightly at that. While I had wanted him to change the highly moralistic viewpoint he had entrenched himself in, I had expected his logic to win out once new scenarios were placed in front of him. I had never wanted him to suffer. The tips of Crowe’s fingers glowed as he touched Sebastian’s head, his eyes closing as he concentrated. White light swirled around his fingers when he pulled back, and Sebastian sighed.

  “Will you see?” Crowe asked me, his voice echoing slightly as his magic still controlled him. I leaned forward instinctively, Draven joining me a moment later, and he pressed his fingers to my forehead then his brother’s before touching his own, and we each closed our eyes. The memory slammed into me, allowing me to see and feel every moment as it played rapidly before my eyes. I bit back the scream of pain that wanted to rip from my throat in a mimicry of Sebastian’s, and from the strangled sounds coming from the twins, I knew they were fighting the same battle. My eyes flew open as an enraged howl flew from my lips.

  “They’ll pay,” I hissed, my eyes meeting Sebastian’s. Rather than flinching from the savagery I knew decorated my face, he merely inclined his head in agreement. He would have his revenge and do so without regret.

  “We’ll help,” Draven snarled. “In any way you want.”

  “We need answers first,” Crowe reminded the three of us, though his voice shook with the fury I could read in his blood-red eyes. “We can’t kill them until we have them.”