by Talyn Scott
It was Oycher who spoke. “Don’t let him get into your head, Sage.”
But he wasn’t in Sage’s head, not anymore. “I mean, seriously, you travel all over the world and masquerade as an honorable Lovec before our monarchy. Then go back later and snatch up all the pretties you want to sink your fangs into, or use to earn money that you haven’t needed in centuries.” Sage almost hauled off and beheaded him, right on the spot, but managed to keep level.
“When your sister refused me, the earth erupted from beneath my feet and I had nowhere to go but down. But to lose myself in the blood, that was my only escape!”
“Then you should’ve done all of us a favor and killed yourself! Wouldn’t that have made better sense than to shame Elissa’s memory! Don’t you see any of it, or has the bloodlust brought on nothing but madness? Killing sisters, daughters, and mates, while you lived your life of sick gluttony.”
“You - ”
“And it’s me you want to bring down?” Sage kept going. “The one who cleans up your messes year after year, so the human authorities won’t find out about vampires. Because Volos wouldn’t do it. So we formed an illegal faction to fight against the very existence of creatures like you, and we’re to be executed?”
“Sage Noskov,” a Gryph boomed, storming toward them. “Drop those weapons!”
“I loved her,” Edik repeated, tears of blood suddenly streaming down his face. “The voices and the cravings turned to madness, you’re right. I should have never taken my first sip of Donor blood. Will you ever forgive me for how I drove your sister to death?”
No, absolutely not, Sage thought. Instead, he said to the maddened male, “What’s there to forgive, Edik?” He brought his hands closer together, cutting in Edik’s throat a half an inch. “What’s past is past.”
“Don’t do it, Sage,” Roman warned. “Drop the blades. By Edik’s dying, we will never live.”
Sage yanked back the blades, just as a Gryph landed. Unfortunately, Edik moved like a striking snake, throwing his wings out and upending the long daggers. They flew into the air, one even hitting the Gryph in the shoulder, the other slinging into the marsh.
Then Edik beamed at Sage with his sick, sick, smile. “This is the part where I say, I’ll see you in hell.” He dove on the blade Sage still held upright in his hand, and pierced his heart in two. “But actually, I’ll see your sister there first.”
He fell backwards.
“Shit!” Oycher hissed.
Sage kept looking between his blade and Edik. The bastard still got him, even by dying.
“Too bad you didn’t listen before you lost your temper, Vojak,” the Gryph said as the first cuff went on Sage’s wrist.
“I have,” Sage spoke evenly, thinking of what this would do to Scarlett, “witnesses that say he fell onto my blade.”
“Yeah?” The Gryph threw his thumb over his shoulder, to four other Gryphs. “I have witnesses that say otherwise. It’s finally over, Sage Nosov.” He looked at Roman. “And for your accomplice.”
And it really was, because in that moment, Sage and Roman had lost everything.
Chapter 23
Donor Complex
Sanibel Island, Florida
“You must be Scarlett.”
Scarlett lifted her eyes, taking in an extraordinarily handsome male with blonde hair and green eyes. He wore what could only be described as Vojak fighting leathers, but instead of the typical brown or black she’d so far seen, his were an alarming shade of crimson. At his nape, a white cloak was fastened by a glittering medal, the cowl turned down around his throat.
“You must be a Vojak,” she said, finally.
He nodded, his ice-green eyes solemn as he placed a dress bag onto the table. “May I join you?”
She scooted over on the sofa, strangely not intimidated by his size. He wasn’t entirely vampire, she realized after he sat down. His power was odd, though, when compared to any other vampire she’d been around.
“I’m part Habaline shifter.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“My power level is making you tense.” He seemed to realize she didn’t want to talk, so he did. “I am Sage’s brother-n-arms, one of many, though one of few. Since this whole thing started, I’ve tried so hard to find something, anything to save him, and also his cousin.”
She couldn’t see Sixten for the tears suddenly blurring her vision. “I’m sure he knows it.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her tissues. They’d come in handy. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want you to thank me.” He leaned forward, hitching his elbows on his knees. “I’ve accomplished nothing more than raising further questions, and I have run out of time.”
Scarlett yanked out more tissues, blotting her eyes.
“What I’m here for, however, is to escort you to Prince Volos’ court.”
“I’m not allowed there,” explained Scarlett through a rolling sob, her body starting to jerk. Then she’d explained what Sage and Roman had told her in the letter Oycher had given her. That they didn’t want her to remember their deaths the way Sage could never forget Elissa dying in his arms. “Not that I can imagine seeing anything so cruel and painful. But the way I figured it; Roman and Sage are facing the end with their friends and family supporting them.” She placed her hand on her chest, right over her broken heart. “Yet I’m the one who’s supposed to spend eternity with them. I’m the woman they love, and I’ve been cast outside for the very last moments of their lives.”
“As a fellow Vojak, I’m honor bound to uphold Sage’s wishes.” He started unzipping the bag, revealing a dress in a glimmering white that matched his cloak. “But my wife agrees with you, so I’m honor bound to abide by her wishes.”
She met his eyes. “You’re really taking me to the Dynasty Empire?”
“Only if you agree to behave.” He wasn’t kidding. “You can’t carry on, crying and wailing during the” — he cleared his throat — “execution. Believe me, no one attending will think you’re fine with it. Simply, you cannot dishonor a Vojak or a Dynasty Vampyr. Your males, and all of court, must see your strength.”
“I thought I was strong. That is, until I realized my males were going to die.” Her hand reached out, petting the soft sheen of the gown. “I’m trying not to break, but I don’t think I can get through tomorrow or the next day, dealing with this pain.”
Sixten’s eyes flicked to the side for a second, then looked back to Scarlett. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told a male I’m rehabilitating. Don’t think about tomorrow, just get through the next hour. From there you go for another hour. After a while, they’ll add up, and all along the way, you’ve picked up bits and pieces of strength from your friends and family.”
“I don’t have a lot of friends in your world.”
“Yes, you do,” Oycher said as he solidified in front of them. He was dressed in the same way as Sixten, though the medal attached to his cloak was crystal, and his face was full of sorrow. He bowed formally and kissed her inner wrist. “You have yet to meet everyone.”
“As long as they’re nothing like your Prince Volos…”
“Who you meet is up to you, Scarlett.” A blonde man came around the corner. He looked nothing like a vampire, but more like an LA dream. His eyes a stunning, frightening blue, he was massive though Scarlett couldn’t spot an inch of fat on him.
“Who are you?”
He knelt in front of her, his jeans straining around thick thighs. “I’m Dax Jordan, the Territorial Alpha of Florida. My brother is the Alpha of North America.”
She pulled out another tissue, putting it to use. “I sense you.”
“Because you have werewolf blood in your veins.” He placed a respectful hand on her knee, and she picked up on a different power, though oddly familiar. Then, strangely, her mind drifted back to that night when…
“Whether you meet with Volos or any other vampire again is solely your decision,” Dax explained, handing her a black business card embossed wit
h only a phone number. “I’m sorry for everything you're going through, and I want to offer my assistance in anything you need.”
Oycher ground his molars. “Scarlett has the Vojaks for that, Dax.”
“Considering you’re not officially mated,” Dax continued as though Oycher hadn’t spoken, “Pack can offer you protection, too.”
“She’s not only a Vojak’s Bride, but the Chosen Bride of a Dynasty Vampyr,” Sixten interjected. “As far as money and protection, Scarlett will want for nothing.”
Dax’s eyes flashed cerulean as he stood. “I wasn’t talking to you, shifter.”
“That’s Vojak to you, dog.”
Oycher snarled, “Scarlett doesn’t need this.”
“I apologize, Scarlett.” Sixten stood and tapped the dress he’d brought with a thoughtful fingertip. “We need to leave in ten minutes. That is, if you’re coming.”
“Yes, Sixten.” She squeezed his enormous hand with hers. “And thank you for the lovely dress. I’ll be ready in five.”
“Good.” He tried to smile but couldn’t fake it. “I’ll be waiting right outside that door.” Sixten pointed to the side entrance, but instead of walking to it, he misted.
When she turned back to Dax and Oycher, Dax said, “Just consider what I’m offering. No matter what you’re going through now, we can help you. And you’re a young, beautiful mixed blood with a full life ahead of you.”
Those words, where had she heard them before? “That’s not exactly what I want to hear right now, considering my males are up for execution.” She leaned forward, cupping her hands over her face. No matter how hard she pushed them down, the sobs were breaking free again. “But,” Scarlett spoke into the palms of her hands, “I understand that you’re trying to help.”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.”
“You’re not why I’m crying.” She felt a hand clasp her shoulder, but knew it didn’t belong to Dax. “I just want my males to live.”
“I better leave,” Dax said to Oycher. “Just brief me on Flynn as soon as you can. We’re in desperate mode.”
Scarlett’s head snapped up. “Flynn?” She studied Dax’s eyes for a long second. “As in, Flynn Ruyter?”
“Yes,” said Dax. “Flynn was in Russia on a mission with Sage and Oycher. His name is familiar?”
Was it ever! “Yes.”
Oycher shrugged. “I’m sure Sage mentioned him. We were all searching for Flynn.”
“You still haven’t found him?”
“No, Scarlett, but we’re looking nonstop. He has a lot of brothers helping out Pack, and we also have some Joint Faction searchers involved. We’re not giving up hope.”
She had to be sure. “Would you happen to have a picture of him?”
“A picture?” Oycher asked
“Yeah.” She shoved her tissues in her purse and stood, then started working the dress from the bag. “I want to see what he looks like. Do you mind?”
Dax was already flipping through his phone. “Any help you can give us will be appreciated greatly.”
When he stopped on Flynn’s picture, Scarlett’s heart stuttered. “That’s him.”
“You’ve got something to go on?” Dax asked, surprised.
“I’m not sure.” She glanced around, hoping no one was listening. “You know how vampires can track by blood?”
“Go on,” Oycher encouraged.
“I slept with him.”
“You slept with Flynn?”
“Yes.” Scarlett went into a brief detail about the night she’d spent with her boyfriend and his buddy, the only threesome she’d had besides with Sage and Roman. “And I thought for months that I’d imagined it, even had nightmares about it. But Flynn bit me.”
Oycher gripped her by the arms. “He bit you?”
She pointed to her shoulder. “Right there.”
“I don’t see a mark,” Dax said. “And I know Flynn hasn’t claimed a mate.”
“I went a little… I mean I did this gripping thing,” she said with a flush. “And he went out of his mind, calling me mixed blood. The next thing I know, he had bitten my shoulder while he was…” She wanted to help, but this was embarrassing. “You know. So putting two and two together, I figured he had some of my blood in him.”
A rush of air left Dax. “How long do you think he held on, enough to swallow a few teaspoons?”
“Oh yeah, I remember it clearly… I was so frightened.”
“You didn’t know what you were, then. And in the human world, people don’t usually go around biting one another.”
“You’d be surprised.” She glanced around, searching for a bathroom in which to change. “So if any of you can hunt him by my blood, I’m ready to donate.”
Dax looked at Oycher. “You think it would work. I mean, one of you could feed from her.”
“As many searchers as we have on Flynn. More than one would need to feed from her before hunting by blood.” Oycher glanced at his watch. “Then, it’s still a fifty-fifty chance.”
The tight lines around Dax’s eyes faded. “That’s fifty percent more than we had a few minutes ago.” He looked at Scarlett. “You’d do this, travel back to Russia and feed vampires to aid in hunting Flynn?”
Going back to Russia would be painful, but she would face it to help Flynn or anyone else who was missing. “Of course, I will.”
“It’s a lot to ask you, right after… the executions,” Oycher added quietly.
“Roman and Sage would expect me to help Flynn in any way I could,” Scarlett said, sure of her decision. “Right now, however, I have to support my males.” She raised her hand to her mouth, fighting back stronger sobs. Hopefully, she would hold her head high as Sixten had asked of her. So she would not dishonor Roman and Sage before the devil’s den known as Volos’ court.
“I’ll make the travel arrangements.” Dax placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Pack is at your disposal, whether you join or not.”
“I’ll remember that.” She hurried towards an open door, thinking she could change in the office, when a male stepped in front of her.
“Don’t bother her, Nolan,” Oycher said sternly. “She has enough to deal with right now.”
“How do you do it?” Nolan asked weakly.
“Do what?”
“Offer to help them… offer to feed them when they’re killing your males.”
“They aren’t killing my males,” she corrected. “Volos is.”
“And you’re not afraid to face your mates’ deaths?”
“I would let Edik win all over again, if I didn’t face any of this.”
“He’s dead.”
“Yes,” she said, her hands gripping the dress, “my mate killed him.”
“And he’s going to die for — ”
“Nolan,” Oycher warned, “let her pass.”
“For nothing wrong, Sage and Roman are dying in vein.”
Nolan took a deep breath, his shaking fingers pushing back his caramel-colored hair. “But I can help.”
Oycher growled at the same time Scarlett dropped the dress. “What are you talking about?”
Nolan looked at Oycher and took a steadying breath. “I’ve got something you need to see.”
In three minutes flat, Scarlett, Nolan, and Oycher were barreling through the side door, all aimed for Sixten. He whirled around, expecting her to be wearing the dress he’d bought. “You changed your mind?”
“No, but we’re going to change Volos’ mind,” she said, her heart brimming with hope.
“Let’s go,” Oycher directed, shaking out a black cloak and handing it to Nolan. “We’ll explain on the way.”
Ten minutes later, Scarlett, Oycher, Nolan, and Sixten were waiting at the marsh’s edge to enter the Dynasty’s Miasma.
“It’s like waiting for a cab,” Sixten hissed, glancing at his watch. “One comes around whenever you don’t need it, but when you do — ”
“Tensions are high enough, Sixten,” Oycher chided as
he adjusted his cloak. Then as the miasma sliced open, he led Scarlett up a seemingly endless flight of marble steps.
“You can’t mist over these?” she asked, thinking they were running out of time.
“The security barriers prevent misting,” Sixten explained. “Pardon my saying, we can still move in the mortal way faster than you so…”
“One of us needs to give you a lift, Scarlett,” Oycher finished, as they entered a vampire tunnel molded with packed dirt and intertwined roots.
Nolan brushed Scarlett’s shoulder, she turned and faced his suddenly glittering eyes. “May I?” He leaned down and opened his arms.
She rushed into them, holding on to his neck and hoping they’d make it in time. Nolan had her up in his arms and running before she took her next breath.
“Go as fast as you can!” Scarlett urged, sensing more than seeing Oycher and Sixten flank them.
Nolan shimmered beneath her, then took off in a streak. His feet never touched the towering fight of shingle steps that led to the main level of the miasma, and his breathing stayed as steady as his heart. He wasn’t even exerting himself at this speed. And if she were not about to have a coronary over making it to Roman and Sage in time, she would be astonished at Nolan’s fortitude.
“Halt!”
Nolan nearly smacked into Oycher’s back.
“You are not welcome here!”
Chapter 24
“I am Commander Oycher Evdokimov of the North American Coven and I enter this miasma weekly,” Oycher told the Gryph approaching him. Though the winged vampire appeared the same height as Oycher, his thickly muscled wings gave him a menacing air of strength and impending doom.
“I said stand down,” the Gryph demanded as he curled his wings to land.
“I will not.” Oycher lowered his cowl and shook out his long, beaded hair. “I am within my rights and station to enter this miasma. And on this day, I am here on official business with Prince Volos himself.”
More Gryphs landed around them, their cloaks were the same red of Sixten and Oycher’s fighting leathers, though their under attire remained black. Mourning clothes, Scarlett realized. Vampires wore red when they mourned.
