Blood Wars (The Bloodborn Series Book 2)

by Iris Walker

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Stolen

  Chapter 2 Awake

  Chapter 3 Vested interests

  Chapter 4 Fire

  Chapter 5 Dreams

  Chapter 6 Control

  Chapter 7 Into the Shadows

  Chapter 8 Answers

  Chapter 9 Unraveling

  Chapter 10 Loyalties

  Chapter 11 Visions

  Chapter 12 Fate

  Chapter 13 Conduit

  Chapter 14 Beneath the surface

  Chapter 15 Sacrifice

  Acknowledgements

  THE BLOODBORN SERIES

  BOOK 2

  Blood

  Wars

  IRIS WALKER

  Copyright © 2020 Iris Walker

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter 1 Stolen

  Lucidia

  Honestly, Lucidia Draxos would have considered this to be a pretty fun night, if they hadn’t been trying to escape massacre, lugging two unconscious bodies through the underground tunnels of a vampire mansion. Fun, because she loved killing casters. Not so fun, because they were being pursued by a literal army of them.

  Her steps pounded against the smooth stones of the tunnel, her caster’s disguise no longer in effect because of its inherently short range. She’d returned to her preferred black hair and tactical gear that she’d worn coming into this godforsaken vampire stronghold. A sheen of sweat beaded her forehead, possibly due to the panic, or the constant sprinting, or the claustrophobic maze of tunnels.

  Reykon Thraxos, the other strongblood that had involuntarily pledged his life to protect Robin, seemed less concerned and more determined. His dark eyes burned with anger and tunnel vision, focused only on Robin, unconscious and bloody, clutched in his arms, blond hair cascading down in a frenzy with each step.

  Then there was Ivan, the vampire Reykon had insisted they picked up. He had eastern European features and was ragged from however long he’d spent rotting in Magnus Demonte’s prison cell.

  The tables had turned on that one, because the blond, brutish vampire master that used to be Magnus Demonte was now slung over Ivan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes; limp, covered in blood, and providing three hundred massive pounds of dead weight.

  Their little posse turned another corner, barreling through the darkness towards the smuggler’s route that had brought Lucidia into this wretched place so many hours ago.

  Hours that felt like a lifetime.

  In Lucidia’s defense, so much had happened. There’d been Magnus’s grand entrance and his declaration of war on the other royal vampire houses. He’d dragged Robin through the aisle in front of all his subjects, and then, commenced a celebration that had apparently served as a method to distribute some poison that… well, they weren’t totally sure on that yet.

  The bottom line was that the casters had done something to the vampires – something that involved massive blood loss and spontaneous dental ejection. We’ll get there later.

  Then, she’d broken Reykon, her once-enemy-now-ally strongblood brethren out of prison, and picked up Ivan the vampire, supposedly one of Reykon’s friends from the good old days. Ivan was now the one leading them out of the tunnels and away from the bloodthirsty casters.

  Lucidia’s mind crept back to the gruesome ritual that she and Reykon had charged into.

  She could still feel the ache in her wrist as her dagger had found purchase in the evil caster’s gut. She’d stabbed Calliope Dragomir, the crazy powerful caster that had no doubt organized this whole power-hungry shindig and manipulated Magnus into believing she was on his side instead of conspiring against him. But if there was one thing Lucidia was certain of, it was that Calliope was nowhere near dead. Probably slinking back into a hole to lick her wounds, yes, but dead? No. That wasn’t really her style.

  Not to mention, there’d been the whole deal that backfired on Magnus and had left him bleeding, comatose, and inexplicably human. Supposedly, he’d had an agreement with Calliope and her veritable army to attack the other vampire houses until they proclaimed him supreme leader of the sandbox. Something like that, anyway.

  That bit about him being human was significant because he’d been born at the dawn of civilization and had been a powerful vampire for millennia.

  But apparently, Robin could turn vampires into humans, now. It was probably a side effect of whatever Calliope had done to her.

  It had been a jam-packed day. Week, for that matter.

  Only a week ago, Lucidia had gotten the call that her half-sister, whom she was supposed to execute twenty-five years ago, had been picked up by a ruthless Demonte agent, Reykon Thraxos. They were careening across the country, and for some unfathomable reason (now clearly caused by the magical influence Robin had over creatures), Lucidia had felt the need to sacrifice her life for her sister’s. Reykon, too, had fallen to Robin’s allure, though Lucidia could tell that for them, it was a two-way street named Love Boulevard.

  But none of it mattered, because they hadn’t been able to stop Calliope’s magical ritual. Their only goal now was to keep the girl alive long enough to determine how much damage was done.

  Just as they turned the corner, a caster slithered out of the shadows; a cold, Legolas looking dude with his magical weapon poised and glowing yellow in the dark tunnel.

  “Mine,” Lucidia growled.

  That was just as well, because her other two companions were carrying bodies.

  She clenched her fists and grinned as the red symbols racing up her arms glowed with magical rage and raw power. In an instant, she was running, feet pounding against the grimy stone floor.

  The caster stayed put, deepening his stance and pointing his weapon straight at her heart.

  God, Lucidia loved being Lucidia.

  Her eyes danced with triumph as she tucked, rolling once and coming up swiftly, burying her dagger hilt-deep into the caster’s gut. The glowing yellow scythe faded, steam rolling into the air as it fell to the ground with a satisfying clank. He dropped like a sack of bricks.

  “Six,” Lucidia claimed, wiping her dagger on the tight-fitting tactical pants she’d stowed under her disguise robes.

  “You’re seriously counting?” Reykon shot out, ducking down another corridor.

  “As good a time as any,” she grumbled, sweeping her gaze from side to side as they came to yet another fork in the tunnels.

  She didn’t really like Reykon; she’d worked with him before and found him to be irritating, anal about details, and way, way too much of a control freak.

  But goddamn was he good at what he did. He had a mind like a steel trap, and an uncanny ability to think himself out of any sticky situation. His combat skills weren’t too shabby, either.

  Almost as good as her, though she’d never admit that to his face.

  “How much longer?” he whispered to Ivan.

  The rogue vampire cast a sideways glance, red eyes burning in the night, ears pricking up at the slightest sounds. “A few minutes. Not much further.”

  They moved swiftly, ducking through the shadows. The tunnels grew slimy and dank, less maintained than those closer to the heart of the castle. Not many late-night getaways went this deep, Lucidia supposed.

  She’d clearly taken a different route into Magnus’s stronghold, which meant there were at least two pathways that had slipped the once-formidable leader’s notice during his Robin-fueled, power-hungry spat of bloodlust.

  But now, seeing how careless he’d been with his own security, Lucidia felt only loathing for the ex-leader. He wasn’t even powerful enough to keep his house in order, much less conspire with Calliope to take down the other vampires. Never trust a caster,
she thought bitterly, apprehension gnawing her mind at the thought of how much violent fallout there’d be from this attack alone.

  Not even considering what else the casters had planned. They wouldn’t have attacked if they didn’t have a strong follow-up already lined out. But that was a problem that would have to wait for later.

  After what seemed like a marathon, they came across a rusted metal ladder, leading up to a circular grate.

  “End of the line,” Ivan muttered, keeping his voice down and hiking himself up on each rung, Magnus’s dead weight slung across his shoulders. Ivan was weak from prison (they didn’t exactly feed you well), but weak for a vampire was still strong by any standards. He effortlessly scaled the ladder, and jammed his fist into the grating above, releasing it with a screeching clunk.

  Lucidia’s shoulders tensed at the loud noise, and the way it bounced through the tunnels, towards the casters gunning for their throats. Ivan left Magnus somewhere at the surface and came back down for Robin. Lucidia felt her heart wrench at the way her sister’s body hung lifelessly around the vampire’s form, the way her blond hair bounced with each movement.

  What did Calliope do to you?

  But there was no time to worry about what horrors Calliope had cooked up in her lab.

  Reykon glanced at her for a brief moment, and she knew undoubtedly that he was thinking the same thing, that his thoughts were running over Robin’s fiendish red marks, now crawling up her throat, nearing her jawline.

  She could see that it was breaking his heart.

  He’s gone soft just like you have.

  Either way, they had no choice but to pull it together. Casters swarming all around them, Calliope on the loose and out for blood; it wasn’t really the time to have a talk about feelings.

  “Ladies first,” Lucidia said, outstretching her hand and bowing.

  Reykon narrowed his eyes in irritation but gripped onto the ladder and moved quickly.

  She didn’t waste any time following, casting one glance back down the tunnels before escaping into the moonlight.

  Reykon

  It was a good thing he and Lucidia had taken the extra thirty seconds to free Ivan, because they wouldn’t have stood the chance that God gave a turnip trying to escape without him.

  Because of Ivan, they now found themselves whipping down the freeway in a getaway vehicle, going about thirty over terminal velocity. Reykon didn’t even mind handing the reins over to Ivan, who’d been Magnus’s second in command before a lover’s quarrel about this little mutiny. Ivan, after all, was the one that had led them to safety.

  Reykon was born and bred in the Demonte House, so he wasn’t without wits. In fact, he knew that place like the back of his hand.

  But evidently, not like Ivan.

  That didn’t really sit well with him, but hell, there was a list of a hundred and one things that didn’t sit well with him after the night they’d had.

  Numero Uno?

  The beautiful girl sitting in the backseat, unconscious and bloody and different than she’d been so many hours ago, on that ship, kissed by the sunset and the churning ocean and the red clouds.

  Calliope had altered her during the magical ritual she’d supercharged with Jadzia’s Comet. During the comet’s last passing, casters had altered five humans at once, birthing Reykon and Lucidia’s own race. If that much power had been channeled into five…

  What had it done to Robin?

  As his thoughts drifted back to Willow’s warning about the magic rolling off of Robin, a stab of guilt and sorrow dug deep in his gut. He’d gotten both of them, Dag and Willow, killed. Executed. Slaughtered. It would take a long time for him to forgive himself for involving them. Before, they’d been able to detect the elemental magic on Robin because they were casters themselves; naturalists, but magic slingers all the same. Now, Robin was quite literally oozing with magical mumbo jumbo.

  You could smell magic, if you were trained for that, which all strongbloods were. It was itchy, and it burned going through your nostrils, crackling on your skin like you’d just rubbed wool socks together in a shag carpet store.

  Vitalurgical traces were even more potent.

  The closest thing Reykon could get to explaining it was turquoise. It smelled like turquoise, whatever that meant; sharp and crystalline and a little salty. And Robin smelled like she’d walked through the Macy’s perfume aisle of vitalurgical magic.

  She was pale, so pale, and those red marks encircled her arms like giant slashes in her skin. Reykon brushed his fingertips against them, expecting to feel brutal wounds like the wicked bite mark on her neck.

  But his touch was met by smooth skin, and a featherlight heartbeat.

  Hold on, Robin, he prayed, swallowing hard and turning his attention to the road behind them. If her magic really was that potent, then it would be that much easier for Calliope to snap her fingers and find Robin, anywhere in the world. Cover was their top priority, and it needed to happen soon. “We need somewhere safe from magic,” Reykon said, leaning forward. Lucidia sat, stoic as always, in the passenger’s seat.

  Ivan didn’t even glance back. “I’ve got a place where she’ll be safe. It was all part of the plan, before Magnus locked me up.”

  “Why’d he do that, exactly?” Lucidia asked in a voice that could cut through steel.

  “I found out about his little alliance with the casters and I openly rebelled against it,” Ivan explained, his hands tightening on the wheel. “My only mistake was that I didn’t realize how far gone he was. I tried to reason with him, the idiot I am.”

  “Calliope had her claws deep,” Reykon muttered bitterly.

  They braked hard and switched lanes, zooming ahead of a minivan convention. A thump sounded from the back of the SUV, and Reykon took satisfaction knowing it was likely Magnus’s head, crashing into a hunk of metal.

  “What place?” she asked, still accusatory.

  Ivan’s eyes narrowed, and Reykon shook his head in an angry huff. “Lucidia, lay off it. We’ve got bigger problems. The casters will find us soon, so unless you’ve got a better plan…”

  Her own purple eyes blazed with anger, but much to Reykon’s surprise, she didn’t shoot back a retort.

  So she’s changed, too, he thought to himself, his fingers lacing through Robin’s as he watched the sky turn navy, and then amethyst with the budding dawn.

  They’d whizzed down so many roads, Reykon didn’t even notice that they’d gotten off the freeway, changed to two-lanes and suburban avenues. Old houses littered the streets here, and they hadn’t seen another car for miles as they now approached a large dam.

  “We close?” he asked Ivan, perking up.

  Ivan nodded, and brought the car to a slow halt in the middle of the bridge.

  Tension prickled across the back of Reykon’s neck.

  It was a feeling he was painfully familiar with, and one that had saved his hide more than once. The last time he’d felt it had been in Grand Junction, Colorado, when the werewolves had crashed his escapade with Robin, nearly a lifetime ago.

  So much had changed since then.

  He’d found love; the kind of love that people only saw in movies, the kind that was too good for this world, that he didn’t deserve for one moment. He’d forsaken every vow, and had every belief turned on its head over the course of one explosive, brutal, and unforgiving week.

  And he wouldn’t take a second of it back. Because he could die right now, happier than he ever would have been before Robin. And now, as the hairs on his arms raised, he had the undeniable sense that something was threatening them. Something was threatening her.

  He looked around at the bridge, all wide-open spaces and bottlenecks and definitely not preferred territory for the defense advantage.

  “Lucidia,” he whispered, glancing up just as she’d opened the door and stalked towards Ivan.

  Damnit, he growled internally, slipping his hand away from Robin’s and getting out of the car.

  “Why a
re we here?” Reykon asked, nerves bunching up underneath his skin. “It’s not a sightseeing expedition.”

  Ivan stood a foot away from the car, pointing across the ravine, over the yawning concrete monolith that loomed before them.

  Reykon took a step forward too, peering through the dim light of dawn.

  “See that?” Ivan asked.

  They squinted in the darkness for a moment before Reykon shook his head.

  “Not really,” Lucidia snapped in irritation.

  “It’s your stop,” Ivan mumbled.

  Before Reykon could turn around, he felt another wave of prickling alert race through him, followed by a crushing blow to the head.

  Lucidia

  Smacking into the water from a hundred feet above felt like being vaporized and hit with a sledgehammer, all in the blink of an eye. If she hadn’t moved lightning fast out of the way of Ivan’s strike, her skull probably would have looked like a smashed pumpkin. Thank God for quick reflexes. During the tumble, she’d lost sight of Reykon, lost sight of the water, and then lost sight of the sky.

  Smack.

  The water found her before she could find it.

  The frothing, surging current surrounded her, driving needles into her skin and roaring in her ears. She gasped, choking on it, struggling for air in the downright tempest that engulfed them, pinwheeling her arms like a mad woman. Her fingers broke through air, and she clawed for it, kicking with all the force she could muster with her supercharged, glowing red symbols of power. It was enough to send her shooting up, like a dolphin, above the chaos that engulfed them.

  Reykon, she thought. Water stung her eyes, surrounded by frothing whitecaps, until she caught a glimpse of red. Lucidia groaned and pushed as hard as she could through the waves, racing to the scrap of his shirt still visible.

  Just as he capsized, she dove down, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him upward. She cast a single glance back, all the way to the top of the dam, searching for any sign of the car or Ivan and finding none.