The Bringer of Wrath

by A. E. Via

  Is he still coming? Alek knew the answer but he asked Wrath anyway.

  YES, Wrath and Wolf said at the same time. Which meant the enemy was even closer.

  That psychopathic vampire had crossed the ocean to finish off his mate. He’d actually come. He’d stop at nothing to kill Bell this time. Wolf growled with viciousness. Alek understood. He’d been hoping the half-a-million-dollar bounty the king had put on Alessandro’s head would’ve had those ruthless mercenaries already calling with the confirmed kill.

  “I smell him,” Wick said. “Something is not right. The vampire who approaches has a shield like I’ve never felt before. Come on, Justice.” Wick finished removing the rest of his clothes.

  Justice was the first to shift into his huge white wolf. When Wick knelt beside him, Justice tucked his long muzzle against his mate’s neck and nudged him with a sharp nip at his throat. The sound of Wick shifting into his Siberian tiger was like a sonic boom. His shift was instant, effortless, and always an amazing sight. Alek stayed close to Bell’s side. They were going to launch every defense they had.

  “We’ll give them a warning first,” Justice told them.

  Mac translated Justice’s thoughts for the vampires. Ramon stood in front of twenty of Wick’s guards who had stayed on the compound.

  A WARNING! Wolf sneered. We shouldn’t warn them. Don’t even think of allowing anyone close to Bell. We should just kill them all. Wrath, send out your waves.

  Wolf, calm down. Justice has to be fair; you know that. If some of the rebels are acting against their will then I’m sure Wick wants to give them a chance to surrender, Alek explained the best he could. Wolf’s battle strategy was always to protect first, show mercy never.

  Justice and Wick approached the edge of their compound, facing the uninvited intruder charging towards them. Even Alek could hear the rapid footsteps now, but he couldn’t smell a thing, only the usual scents of his home and his mate beside him. Whoever this was had perfected the art of disguise. Alek shifted uneasily and Bell leaned closer to him.

  Wick and Justice moved in sync. His brother’s massive beast stalked forward, with his ears low and his tail straight out, ready to push his energy that could bring many to their knees at once. But, when he was with his mate, his force was maximized.

  Wick arched forward with his big head raised to the sky, and roared with all his might, the sound almost deafening to their sensitive ears. It was a roar that was powerful enough to paralyze, and Justice followed Wick’s warning by shooting a blast into the woods that should’ve stopped any and all. But their intruder pushed through, his shield still intact, and kept advancing. Justice and Wick came back and shifted in front of them. “That should’ve worked,” Justice said, sounding winded.

  “It’s the vampire,” Wick said. “I think it’s only one.”

  “Let him move in,” Justice said, glaring at the trees. “No one attacks unless I give the command.”

  It took another forty to fifty seconds before a short figure cloaked in black came into view. He crossed the boundaries onto their compound, and Alek took note that his brother, Mac, was the first to growl his disapproval. No one could get a good look at the trespasser’s features as he wore a midnight-black scarf draped over his head and covering half of his face. He wore loose-fitting clothes, so Alek was unsure of his build, but it clearly wasn’t Alessandro, who’d stood at least six feet.

  “He doesn’t smell right.” Mac snarled.

  “He’s blocking most of his scent,” Ramon frowned.

  “Easy. Let’s see what he wants,” Justice said.

  Alek could see the man had a backpack on with a couple of long rods sticking up over his shoulder.

  Swords, Wrath confirmed.

  Wolf became enraged. NO CLOSER, Aleksei!

  Shit, Alek had to console his animal. Over the past month he’d been doing extensive training with Wrath and Wolf, practicing on working together as one. Like they had in the Dales. They all needed to think the same thoughts at the same time, and it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  Wolf was relying on Alek not to ignore his concerns while he had the surface.

  “Justice, that’s close enough. He needs to state his business,” Alek told his AZ. He was first beta. His counsel mattered.

  “Agreed,” Justice said. “Stop him there.”

  When the devious vampire began to move, Alek took a couple of steps forward and extended his hand in front of him. He immediately felt the heat surge through his body and project from his fingertips. The heatwaves were so hot and wide, Alek struggled to contain them.

  Stay with me, Aleksei, Wrath said, sharing the surface with him.

  I’m good, Alek grunted as more power surged through him. The wave was tall and wide, and Alek was moving it closer to the intruder. With his pack safely behind him, Alek trusted Wrath to do this.

  The vampire was close enough to be heard. His voice was low, raspy, and held a no-nonsense tone. “I’m not here to fight.”

  “We don’t know why you’re here. Drop your shields,” Wick commanded. “If you mean no harm.”

  Alek kept his hand extended, gaining more control by the second. Bell’s steady presence at his back kept him grounded and composed.

  “The shield is there for protection. I only wanted a chance to explain my appearance here.” The vampire held his hand out towards the rippling lines sizzling a few inches away from him. When he made contact, he yanked his hand back, shaking it vigorously. He gasped, his black eyes wide with disbelief. “It’s true. You have returned. These are the waves of Wrath. It’s really you.”

  Alek waited on his other half to tell him what to do. Wolf?

  I don’t like this. Let him in with a strict warning, Wolf instructed Wrath, and the demigod followed the command without question. Alek’s hand trembled as the waves began to glow a warm, orange hue that illuminated the vampire’s keen eyes. Wrath turned up the heat, showing their visitor what he was up against. Alek’s voice was deep and intimidating as Wrath spoke, “If you attack. You’ll die slowly.”

  “Those are not my intentions,” the vampire affirmed once more.

  Mac growled again, his chest heaving and his eyes wild with fight. Alek wasn’t discounting what his little brother’s gifts brought to their pack. His wolf was sensing something bad and they’d be a fool to ignore him. Alek slowly lowered his arm, watching the waves fall to the ground.

  “Nice work, brother,” his alpha praised him.

  Alek gave the glory to Wrath, the one who deserved it.

  Alek was certain that it was not Alessandro the Conqueror. The vampire approaching had no smell, but Alek could see that he was old, strong, and brave. He’d come to them boldly, not like a thief in the night. With no one but himself and one impressive-ass shield. Which meant he was around the same age, or older than Bell.

  Alek was on edge. He didn’t know if the lone figure in front of them was a trick, or were they about to be ambushed from behind? Had Alessandro found another army to support his cause? Flashbacks of his mate being captured and tortured assailed him. When the vampire was about twenty feet away Wick told him that was far enough and Alek was glad he hadn’t had to say it, first.

  “I would like to introduce myself.”

  “Drop the shield,” the Lord Protector ordered, stepping in front of Wick and Bell.

  “Please, my lords. A moment. My family’s name… is Cavalerie. I am the oldest, Adres. I am here to honor our code, pledge my loyalty to your crown King Bentley, and to hopefully, swear an oath.”

  “Drop your shield,” the Lord Protector ordered with finality.

  The moment he did, Alek narrowed his eyes, not sure how he felt about the dominating smell of leather and potent spices that flooded off their visitor. But no one had a stronger reaction than Mac.

  “I smell you.” Mac glowered. He shifted into his wolf and bounded in front of them, stopping only inches away from who they now knew was Adres Cavalerie. The shifters all looked dumbfounded,
but the vampires gaped with fascinated expressions.

  “This is unbelievable,” Ramon whispered. “You are a Cavalerie? The oldest?”

  “Yes,” Adres said, keeping still with the huge wolf stalking around him aggressively.

  “Never thought I’d see one in person,” Wick said.

  “You’ve seen me, my Lord. You just didn’t know it,” Adres said.

  “Do you mind filling the rest of us in, because my brother’s wolf says your soul is wicked and corrupt,” Justice said, his voice laced with caution. “I’m not going to ask you if that’s true, because I believe him. His animal not only senses the righteous but the unjust as well. Now, tell me why you’ve come onto my pack lands and why we all smell the traitorous Alessandro Giuliani.”

  Ramon shook his head at Justice. “No, AZ. He is not wicked, nor corrupt. His family are the harbingers of judgment. Have been for millennia. It’s why his shield makes him undetectable. It’s his family’s creed. Adres has a reputation of living up to the meaning of his name—the inescapable.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t like him. I don’t like that he’s able to withstand your power, Justice. Let me chase him away,” Mac said. He’d yet to let up, his head dipped low and his teeth bared.

  Ramon continued to vouch for this vampire as if he was a personal fan. “The name Cavalerie translates to Horseman in Romanian. And, no, his legend has no association to the mythical folklore of the headless horseman. It’s merely coincidental, if not a bit ironic, that Adres and his many brothers are known for raiding immoral covens and bringing victims the heads of their tormentors. Their history goes back for generations, having originated during the Roman Draconian Era when many coven leaders were adapting to some of the excessively harsh laws of the tyrannical ruler, Septimius Severus. The crown couldn’t bring justice for all so the Horsemen were formed. Some of the old ancestors say the Horsemen were sent as gifts from Nemesis, the Roman goddess of retribution. So, the council never hunted them.”

  “Okay. He’s a notorious vigilante,” Alek said.

  “Not really. I know of the Horsemen. They’re not as active as they were in the late eighteen-hundreds, but still champions for the downtrodden of our kind,” Bell said, speaking for the first time. Until Cavalerie had dropped his shield, Bell hadn’t known why the smell of death was so foul and the scent of Alessandro encompassed them. Now he did. He knew exactly why the head horseman had come to his doorstep. “What does Wrath say?”

  “That this man has killed many times in his name. In the name of vengeance.” Alek smirked. “And that he’s not mad at him. Nor is he a threat. Now that he’s dropped his shield, Wolf doesn’t smell any trickery or deception.”

  “Southeastern Europe vampire covens were plagued by unethical leadership during the Middle Ages, that’s when my family dominated, through the nineteenth century. Until we got a fair king and a council that worked for the people and not for their own hierarchal games. “So before you judge my actions as righteous or not, Volkov wolf.” Adres spat, scowling back at Mac’s radiant blue eyes, “Know that every vampire is not born into royalty or has personal favor with the king like you’re used to seeing around you. A lot are born into poverty… and are later taken advantage of by bad covens. It was a long time before nobles cared what happened to the commoners. Crimes against nameless vampires went unpunished, so, I did the punishing.”

  Adres reached up and tore his scarf away, revealing a mature, handsome face. Of course, he didn’t have the flawless beauty of a young vampire, and he also didn’t have Wick’s classic gorgeousness. No, Adres Cavalerie had a full mix of gray and black hair that wasn’t styled in any particular direction. The sides had been shaved so close that Bell noticed a protruding scar on his skull that ran from the top of his earlobe to the back of his neck. It had to have been an injury he’d barely survived. He had creases in the corners of his haunted, onyx eyes and around his mouth. Bell was intrigued to be standing before a legendary horseman.

  Mac shifted and stood to his full height, towering over Adres, trembling with holding his anger in check. “I wasn’t judging you. I was letting my family know the kind of man they had in front of them.”

  “And how would you know that? By sniffing me for five whole minutes?” Adres asked, his aged, raspy voice sounding more and more venomous as Mac crowded into the vampire’s personal space until he was forced to look up… or look down in submission. Which, of course, he did not. Adres tilted his head back, meeting Mac’s glare head on, and gritted his teeth. “How in the hell would you perceive to know the kind of man I am, young Volkov wolf.”

  “Macauley, don’t,” Justice commanded.

  Bell didn’t know what the hell Mac was going to do, but he knew Adres wouldn’t just give Macauley the kind of respect he was demanding, the same way he hadn’t just given it to Alek. Shifters, especially alphas, felt they should be revered on sight. Well, reverence was earned in Bell’s world. Mac didn’t appear to take Adres’ glower as a challenge, and instead stood there seething, his chest rising and falling so hard, that on each inhale his body brushed against the vampire. That close together, Mac dominated the horseman with his hands on his bare hips. Beads of sweat rolled from Mac’s muscular, naked body as he radiated his frustration.

  “You may be a master at hiding your scent.” Mac dipped low and pressed his nose to Adres’ temple. “But, I smell the real you… killer.”

  Adres took a couple of steps back, but Mac didn’t let him retreat. Bell cringed. He knew this was a testosterone-filled-two-alphas-colliding type thing happening before him, but he didn’t want to see them tussle on the ground for an hour all because they couldn’t see the obviousness.

  “You have killed too, wolf. I’ve heard the Volkov history,” Adres bit back.

  “I defended my pack... not killed for money,” Mac growled. “Show them the putrid insult you’ve brought us.”

  “It is not for you,” Adres retorted. “It’s for my lords.”

  “Enough of this,” Wick said.

  Adres continued to scowl as he let his gaze travel up Mac’s body, and the dramatic dip of his Adam’s apple was one act he couldn’t disguise. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and no one interrupted as the two of them stood off. Everything Adres was doing to Mac could have been considered hostile and immensely disrespectful, but Mac still didn’t attack.

  “Alek, if Mac is so enraged then why isn’t he doing anything? He’s just… standing there.”

  Alek laughed lightly. “That’s not rage, baby. If Mac was really mad, then he wouldn’t be half hard right now. You can’t feel his thoughts, but this older vampire is really getting under his skin… in another way.”

  “Is Adres Cavalerie your brother’s mate?”

  “No.”

  “This is weird,” Bell grumbled.

  “What’s weirder is Mac isn’t gay.”

  “And don’t look at me like that,” Mac said between clenched teeth.

  Adres moved around Mac, dismissing him, and went down on one knee a few feet from Bell and Wick and opened up the large pack he’d had strapped to his back. When he rose he held out a plastic-wrapped burlap bag, large enough for them all to know what was hanging so heavy – and bloody – inside.

  “I did not do this for the bounty. Keep your money, King Bentley. Or donate it to any of the blood banks or shifter charities. I don’t need it. That is not why I brought you Alessandro Giuliani’s head. That would be against everything my house stands for. What I brought was vengeance for the Lord High.” Adres faced Justice and gave him a slight nod, “I did not bring death to your door as an insult. In my culture, this gesture is seen as the highest gift a wronged man can receive. Word traveled quickly to my house with what happened to Lord Belleron at the Dales, but I had no interest in seeking revenge for the royalty.”

  “Then why did you do it?” Bell asked.

  “When royalty stopped to save one of my brothers.”

  Bell was confused.

  “Th
e fire. That vampire your beloved, Wrath, saved was my middle brother, Andrei. He’s no longer a horseman. None of us, except him, have ever found his beloved. We envied him, protected him. But, I wasn’t there that night. We’d been urging him to get the wiring repaired for months in his shop but he kept putting it off. He would’ve died, Lord Belleron, if your mate wasn’t thoughtful enough to put another, a stranger’s, well-being over himself. It’s the doctrine my family lives by, so I had to come make it right. Duty requires that I do. I’m here to pledge my honor to your demigod and to you, my lord.”

  Bell stepped forward, still staring at the bag on the ground. It was Alessandro’s head. Bell could smell it and he wanted to scream, not celebrate. He’d wanted that fucking kill for himself. It was his. But, things didn’t always work out the way he wanted them to. He was quickly learning that he couldn’t control everything. His mate had promised him vengeance and it had been delivered to his feet. So, why was he so upset? Maybe because he knew his warrior days were over. He had to be there for his species, now. To help Wick know when they were in need and how to help them. It appeared he and Alek had the compassion their kind had been seeking. An ear that would hear them and a voice that would speak for them.

  “My Lord. Will you accept?”

  “I accept your gift, Adres Cavalerie.” Bell swallowed. “And I am grateful… and now whole.”

  Adres nodded, “And do you accept my duty, my Lord.”

  “And what is that duty?”

  Adres smiled for the first time, the boyish-smirk altering his appearance to something nice and not so threatening. “As your Lord of Arms.”

  Bell’s mouthed formed an ‘O’. “I see. An official of the royal court hardly seems your forte, Horseman.”

  “I don’t fancy a title and I don’t seek glory. I live by oaths, Lord Belleron. I am guided by my will. No one will better protect you when you are not with your cherished than me. By saving Andrei, you saved our entire family. I am forever in your debt. If my Lord will accept my final gift before he makes up his mind,” Adres said, then removed one of the long staffs strapped to his sack and slowly unwrapped it. Bell blinked when he got his first look at the brand-new sleek, black cane sword with a gold handle accent.