Chapter 34

34

D amp ivy. Oak trees. Home. She'd somehow made it.

Or at least to the grounds surrounding Val Hall. But her skin still smoked, and she was weak as a babe from her injuries. How much blood had she lost? Had she made it so far just to die at dawn?

She tried to roll over in order to crawl, but failed. The effort made her vision go blurry. When it finally cleared, she spied a massive, black-haired man peering down at her.

Brows drawn, he scooped her up into his arms, then began walking the long drive to the manor. Emma thought this was the drive. She could also be mistaken that he was a man.

"Easy, girl. I know you are Emmaline. Your aunts have been worried." Deep voice. Strange accent. European and moneyed. "I am Nikolai Wroth."

Why did that name sound so familiar? She squinted up at him. "You are a friend of my aunts'?" she said, her voice sounding faint.

"With one. And it seems only one." A short laugh with no humor. "Myst is my wife."

"Myst married?" Was that where she'd been? No, no way. "That's funny. "

"The jest's on me, I'm afraid." As they reached the manor, he bellowed, "Annika, call off the goddamn wraiths and let me in."

Emma stared up at the sky, at the swirling red swaths of ragged cloth that circled the house. Occasionally she spied a gaunt, skeletal face, but it would change to beauty if you met its eyes.

The price for their protection was hair from each of the Valkyries within. The wraiths wove the locks into a massive braid, and when it grew long enough, they bent all living Valkyries to their will for a time.

"Myst hasn't returned yet," someone called from the house. "But you know that, or else you'd both be naked and fornicating on the front lawn."

"The night's young. Give us time." To himself, he murmured, "And it was a field a mile away."

"Don't you have a tanning appointment to go to, vampire?"

Emma stiffened. Vampire? But his eyes weren't red. "Did you follow me?"

"No, I was awaiting Myst's return from shopping and sensed you trace into the woods."

A vampire waiting for Myst? He'd said she was his wife. She sucked in a breath. "You're the general, aren't you," she whispered. "The one Myst had to be pried from?"

She thought the corners of his lips quirked. "Is that what you heard?" At her solemn nod, he said, "It was mutual, I assure you." He glanced away down the drive, as if willing Myst to return, and said almost to himself, "How much lingerie can one female need...?"

Suddenly Annika was shrieking, running for her, vowing to kill him so slowly .

Amazingly, his body was still relaxed. "Cease trying to take off my head, Annika or we will have words."

"What have you done to her?" she cried.

"Obviously, I clawed her, bloodied her, and burned her. Now, oddly, I offer her up to you."

"No, Annika," Emma said. "He found me. Don't kill him."

Through heavy-lidded eyes, Emma saw Myst returning, dropping shopping bags full of lace—and leather—to run toward them in all her heart-stopping beauty. Gaze locked on Myst, the vampire finally tensed, and his heart sped up, beating loud like a drum.

Then Emma felt a very decisive yank as she went from his arms to Annika's.

"I was on fire," Emma told her. "I slew Demestriu."

"Of course, you did. Shhh, you are unwell."

When Myst reached them, she pressed a trembling kiss on Emma's forehead.

"Myst, he found me," Emma said. "You shouldn't kill him."

"I'll try to refrain, my sweet," Myst answered in a wry tone.

The others in her coven gathered round until she was surrounded. No one was raising a sword against this vampire? When Annika stroked her face, Emma succumbed to the blackness.

***

Lachlain hauled himself to his feet, then sagged against the castle wall, still holding his sword out.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have pushed so hard to have you tortured," Ivo said. "But I can't tell you how much the thought of your skin being cooked from your bones has gladdened me. "

He was baiting Lachlain, stirring up the beast to render him thoughtless.

"I can't let you leave here alive. A Lykae after his mate..." Ivo tsked. "Annoyingly tenacious. You'd keep coming long after she's forgotten you. And she will forget you. I'll force her to take necks until you're a distant memory."

Trying to enrage him. Vampires always sought to trigger the beast.

"Now that I've found the key to turning demons, I can turn her fully as well. A true vampire—a true killer. She was made for it."

Stir the beast. Why not give him what he wanted?

Ivo smirked, so confident. "The first neck she takes will be my own."

Lachlain cast his sword at the remaining henchman's neck, nailing him to the wall with the blade. Then, with a mindless roar, he charged Ivo. As he'd known it would, Ivo's sword shot out for a killing blow. Lachlain struck it down with his fist, sending the steel into his own thigh. He left it wedged there, and let the beast free.

Fangs and claws. Cracking, tearing . . .

Through the haze, Lachlain saw Ivo's long, sadistic existence end in horror.

Lachlain growled with satisfaction and dropped the body. He worked Ivo's sword free of his leg, and then his own sword from the henchman's neck. "Video," he snarled.

The vampire clamped a hand to his wound, scrambling to a small computer in the adjoining chamber. When he handed up the video, Lachlain rewarded him with a quick death.

Several more vampires had crowded at the opened door, but Lothaire, the Enemy of Old, appeared to be blocking them. How long had he been there?

Lachlain could guess. Long enough to allow Ivo's death. He asked Lothaire, "You know about her?"

A tight nod.

Lachlain narrowed his eyes. Lothaire couldn't take the throne, because he wasn't a blood heir. Lachlain knew of no one who could except for Kristoff—unless they went after Emma.

He bared his teeth at Lothaire. "Follow their fates if you follow their actions. I guard her ruthlessly."

Lothaire's lips subtly drew back from his fangs.

No, Lothaire would never get Emma, so the Horde would surrender to the rebel king or descend into chaos.

Unless Kristoff had a sister.

Lachlain needed to kill them all, but needed to get back to Emma more.

He escaped into the sun, never so glad to see a cloudless sky.

***

Emma knew the cost.

She'd wakened, having dreamed of people pouring blood down her throat, but she couldn't hold it down. First came blood in glasses, and then everyone started shoving gashed wrists to her lips. But she drank directly from no one, unwilling to risk more memories.

Annika's voice was thrumming with worry. Myst tried to calm her. "Annika, we will think of something. Go speak to the Lykae downstairs. Maybe he knows something we don't."

Ten minutes later, Annika returned. Emma cracked open her eyes to see a man lurch after her, hands shackled behind him. Following were Lucia and Regin, faces pensive, swords drawn.

The man was tall with a shadow of a beard. His eyes were a burnished gold, and he'd been frozen into his immortality with rakish laugh lines fanning out from them. He looked so much like Lachlain that it pained her. Garreth.

Would he despise her for her involvement with his brother?

Annika pointed at Emma. "Is that who Lachlain should take out his vengeance on? We've all suffered at the vampires' hands, yet that dog thinks to punish our Emma, who is nothing but innocent and kind." She uncovered Emma's leg. "Look at these gashes! They won't heal! What has he done to her? You will tell me or—"

"Christ," he murmured. "That's his... no, it canna be." He strode forward, but Regin yanked on his bonds. "Let me closer," he growled over his shoulder. "Closer, or you'll get no help from me." His voice grew deadly. "Get her well."

"We've tried everything!"

"Why will she no' drink? Aye, Valkyrie, I hear your whispers from her room. I know what she is. What I doona know is how she is my brother's mate."

"Emma will never be a ‘mate' to one of you!"

"It has been done," he grated. "I assure you."

Emma opened her eyes, needing to explain.

Annika struck him with all her might.

"He's marked her," Garreth bit out. "He'll be coming for her. I'm surprised he's no' here already."

Annika raised her hand again, but Emma didn't want him hurt. "Annika, don't...."

"Force blood down her throat," Garreth said .

"You think we haven't tried that? She can't keep it down."

"Try other blood. Take mine."

"Why do you care?"

His voice was so strong, so like Lachlain's when he said, "Because that's my queen, and I'll die for her."

Annika was shaking with emotion. "Never your queen."

"Goddamn it, let her drink from me!"

"She won't." Annika suddenly sounded like she was about to cry. That had happened only once before.

Emma wanted to drink. She didn't want to die, but she feared Demestriu had poisoned her with his claws. She was so weak she could barely keep her eyes open.

Garreth said, "Let me talk to the other vampire I scented in the house."

"He wouldn't know anything."

"Let me talk to him!" he roared.

Annika told Lucia to go get Myst and Wroth. Seconds later, Emma heard Wroth's deeply accented voice, and her lids flickered open.

As if in slow motion, Garreth shook free of Regin and lunged for him. They caught each other by the throat.

"Heal her, vampire," Garreth bit out.

All eerie calm, this Wroth simply murmured, "Do not do that again, Lykae."

He didn't use the if-then threat. As if he knew the mere idea of his displeasure would terrify others.

Garreth released the man. Seconds later, Wroth let go.

"Heal her."

"I don't know the old ways like some. For a price, I offer to contact Kristoff and ask this boon from him."

"I'll pay it— "

Annika interrupted, "But then Kristoff will know of her existence."

Garreth scoffed. "Surely this vampire's already told his king?"

Myst said, "Wroth protects our interests," but Annika and Garreth appeared doubtful.

Garreth turned to Annika. "If we worked together, the vampires would no' hand us our asses like the last Accession. We ally, and we keep her from them."

Wroth warned in a deadly tone, "Wait till I'm out of the room before you conspire." No consequence clause.

"But Kristoff has my blood, and I killed Demestriu," Emma whispered.

Myst crossed to the bed and stroked her hair. "I know, darling. You've said this before."

Garreth asked Wroth, "What is your price?"

"I want my union with Myst recognized by all."

Silence.

Lightning flashed outside, and Annika bowed her head.

While Myst gaped at her sister, the vampire traced to her. He cupped Myst's neck and stared down into her eyes. She gazed up at him breathlessly, and then they were gone.

***

On the jet, Lachlain pawed at the DVD player.

Harmann had downloaded the video to this machine and explained how to use it, but Lachlain's hands were shaking.

He couldn't imagine what Emma had gone through. Even the strongest Lykae never returned from Demestriu's lair, yet she'd defeated him—something no being had been able to accomplish.

Lachlain needed to see even as he dreaded it, needed to find out why she hadn't returned to Kinevane .

To me.

When he'd finally gotten far from Helvita and staggered back to Harmann, they'd called Kinevane.

She wasn't there. She'd traced to... her real home.

The player finally started, the video loop beginning with Demestriu's arrival.

Emma behaved as if Demestriu's comments didn't hurt her. She might even not realize they did, but Lachlain could see something fading in her eyes each time. Underneath all her swagger, she was still the same vulnerable Emmaline.

Demestriu looked as horrific and awesome as Lachlain remembered. And yet, when she'd admitted her mother had told them nothing about Demestriu, Lachlain could swear he'd looked—for the briefest moment—hurt.

"That's Lachlain's ring," Emma said at one point.

How did she know that?

Demestriu glanced down at his hand. Moments passed before he said, "I suppose it is."

Lachlain had long imagined Demestriu staring at the ring, reveling in what he'd done, pleased to possess a constant reminder of Lachlain's torture.

Demestriu had hardly noticed it.

Then Lachlain heard the most horrifying revelation.

Emma had dreamed his memories. Of the fire. That's what had happened when she'd woken in such pain. She'd felt his agony. Because he'd conveyed that horror to her.

I would rather have died.

The video played on. He watched helplessly as Demestriu attacked. Though Lachlain knew the outcome, his muscles clenched with tension.

But Lachlain hadn't known she'd been injured so grievously. Now his worry intensified, eating at him .

Emma toed the pool of Demestriu's blood as she might the cold ocean. She held the sword over her head, but it shook wildly and tears streamed down her cheeks. How he wished he could have taken that fear and pain for her.

Then Demestriu's eyes changed, as if he'd been lanced of a venom. He'd appeared relieved to die.

Emma's beautiful face was anguished as she knelt beside him, desperate not to kill him. Lachlain saw the moment she'd known that she would have to.

Though it went against everything she was, she'd done it. All alone, his brave Emmaline had slain her own father, then had been sizing up Ivo directly after. Luckily, she'd saved him for Lachlain.

Her final act—leaping into the sun . . .

He was awed by her courage, but knew the toll this would take on her. Knew the toll he himself had taken on her. Was he selfish to go after her?

What if he's my father?

Malevolent, filthy parasites.

Christ, no.