6. Chapter 6

6

Chapter 6

Darick

T he soft glow of the moon casts long shadows across the manicured lawns and carefully tended flowerbeds of my gardens. The night air is cool against my skin, but it does little to ease the churning in my mind.

This is unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

I've lived long enough to see empires rise and fall, witnessed the birth of technology that would have been considered magic in my youth. Yet nothing – absolutely nothing – has prepared me for this.

A voice in my head. A woman's voice, no less.

I pause by a statue of Artemis, her marble form frozen in an eternal hunt. How fitting. I feel like I'm on a hunt of my own, chasing answers that seem to slip further away with each passing moment.

The conversation replays in my mind for the hundredth time. Her voice, clear as a bell, demanding I get out of her head. As if I were the one intruding. The audacity of it almost makes me chuckle. Almost.

But the laughter dies in my throat as I consider the implications. If this is real – and that's a big if – it means I'm experiencing some form of psychic connection. In all my years, I've never encountered anything like it. Vampires have their own forms of mental communication, sure, but this? This is something else entirely.

Who the hell is she? And how the hell did she get into my thoughts? Is it some sort of trickery to infiltrate our clan? Learn our secrets?

But no, that doesn't fit. She seemed just as surprised as I was. Just as confused. Just as angry.

I reach out and touch a rose petal. The scent wafts up, rich and intoxicating. Once, long ago, I would have savored it. Now, I'm too preoccupied.

The Bloodbane. Could this be a symptom? To be honest, as much as we're aware of it, we don't really know much about it. The Bane seems to affect everyone differently. I've considered the possibility of hallucinations, but this felt too real, too interactive to be a mere figment of my imagination. And yet, the alternative seems impossible. I'm connected to someone.

I continue my path through the garden, each step measured and deliberate. The gravel crunches beneath my feet.

What if it is real?

What if, somehow, I've formed a connection with this woman? The implications are staggering. It could change everything we know about vampire physiology, about the limits of our abilities.

Or it could be the first sign that I'm losing my grip on reality.

I clench my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palms. The pain is sharp, immediate. Real. Unlike the voice in my head.

But even as I think it, I know I'm lying to myself. It felt real. As real as the ground beneath my feet, as real as the blood that no longer flows through my veins.

I stop at the edge of a small pond, its surface a perfect mirror of the night sky above. My reflection stares back at me, pale and ageless. The face of a predator.

And now, that face looks uncertain. Troubled.

Scared.

Bullshit!

I push the thought away. Fear is a luxury I can't afford, not with Lucien's plans looming on the horizon, threatening to unbalance the tenuous relationship we have with humans.

But the fear persists, a nagging whisper in the back of my mind. What if this is just the beginning? What if the voice comes back? What if it gets worse?

What if I'm going mad?

I turn away from my reflection, shaking the uncertainty away. I need answers. I need to understand what's happening to me. But where do I even begin? Who can I trust with this information? Marcus, certainly. But beyond him?

"Darick?" As if my thoughts have conjured him up, my friend emerges from the shadows.

I turn to face Marcus, his expression grim. The urgency in his eyes tells me this isn't a social call.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice low and tense.

Marcus glances around, ensuring we're alone before speaking. "I've been digging into Lucien's activities, as you asked. Darick, it's worse than we thought."

The chill that touches me is colder than the night air. "Tell me."

"He's planning an attack. Tonight."

"Tonight?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. I've expected this, but not so soon. Then again, it shouldn't surprise me. If Lucien was ready to raise his plans at our Assembly, he must have been planning this for a while.

"Yes." Marcus nods. "On a gathering of witches – some sort of spiritual ritual."

"Fuck," I hiss. This is exactly what I've been afraid of. Lucien's always been ruthless, but this? A brazen attack on a large group? This is going to draw the worst kind of attention. "How sure are you about this?"

Marcus's jaw tightens. "Very. My source is reliable, and the intel checks out. Lucien's gathered his most loyal followers. They're armed and ready."

My mind races as I decide what needs to be done. "We can't let this happen, Marcus. If Lucien attacks a witch gathering, it'll spark a conflict we might not be able to contain."

"I know," Marcus says, his eyes following my restless movement. "That's why I came to you immediately. We need to act fast."

I stop, turning to face him. "What else do you know? Where is this gathering taking place?"

Marcus pulls out his phone, opening up an app. "Here," he says, pointing to a map on the screen. It shows a nearby forest. "It's a sacred grove the witches use for ceremonies. My source couldn't give me specifics on the event, but apparently, it's significant. There will be a lot of witches there."

I study the location. I know the area – an old, dense part of the forest, perfect for secretive gatherings. And for ambushes. The thought makes my blood boil.

"How long do we have?" I ask, already formulating a plan.

"Not long. An hour, maybe two at most." Marcus's voice is tight with tension.

I straighten up, decision made. "We need to move now. Gather a small team – our best warriors. We don't have time to put together a large enough contingent to match Lucien's numbers, but we can outmaneuver him."

Marcus nods, already turning to leave. "I'll assemble the team. Meet you out front in ten minutes."

As he disappears into the darkness, I take a deep breath, centering myself. The tranquility of the garden feels like a distant memory now. War is coming, and I'm about to throw myself right into the middle of it.

I rush back to the mansion, my mind racing. Weapons, strategy, potential outcomes – a thousand thoughts clamor for attention. But beneath it all, a singular purpose drives me forward: we must stop Lucien.

In my chambers, I quickly change into dark, flexible clothing suitable for combat. I strap on my weapons – a combination of ancient and modern, much like myself – then I make my way quickly out of the building.

I meet Marcus and our team in the courtyard. Five of our best fighters, each looking prepared and determined.

Good.

We'll need every ounce of skill and determination tonight.

"You all know the situation," I address them as we gather together. "Lucien's crossed a line. This is not about witches – we're protecting the peace, fragile as it is. If his attack succeeds, we'll be facing a shitstorm."

"You know you can count on us, Lord Drake." I see nods of understanding and feel a sense of satisfaction. These are vampires I trust with my life, who've stood by me through centuries of conflict and change. Tonight, I'm asking them to potentially fight their own kind.

They'll do it.

The courtyard is swathed in shadows that darken the cobblestones. I extend my arm, focusing on the darkness around me. The shadows begin to swirl and coalesce, forming an inky vortex at our feet.

"Remember," I say as the shadows engulf us, "our priority is prevention. We stop Lucien's attack before it can begin. If we can avoid bloodshed, all the better. But if it comes down to it…" I let the sentence hang, knowing they understand the implications.

We stand together as I summon the shadows closer, preparing to take us to our destination. The sensation of being enveloped by darkness is both familiar and disorienting. I swirl my hand, and the darkness snaps shut. For. a moment, there's nothing; a sense of standing in a vacuum. And then, in an instant, we're transported beyond the city limits and reassembled at the edge of the national park.

"The place we're looking for is deep inside the forest," says Marcus. "But we'll need to proceed on foot rather than shadow travel because I'm not exactly sure where they are. We'll have to listen for them until their scent leads us closer."

I nod, stepping forward, and the others fall in behind. I prefer to travel through the shadows, but I have no trouble moving quickly and quietly regardless of how I get around.

The forest looms ahead, dense and foreboding. We move silently, wraithlike, each of us ready for action. It's eerily quiet as we move through the trees, our attuned for any sign of Lucien's group or the witch gathering.

About five minutes in, Marcus puts a hand on my arm and gives me a meaningful look. I pause, stiffening as the sound of voices floats in on the breeze.

Chanting.

The grove isn't far now. I can feel the tension radiating from my team as we draw closer. The snap of a twig makes us all freeze, but it's just a startled deer bounding away. Still, it's a reminder of how precarious our situation is. One wrong move, one moment of carelessness, and everything could go to hell.

As we near the grove, I hold up a hand, signaling the team to stop. There's something in the air – a faint scent overlays the sweet fragrance of blood I've learned to detect over the years. The gathering is close.

But where's Lucien? I strain my senses, searching for any sign of his attack force. Nothing. The forest holds its breath as if waiting for the storm to break.

Then I hear it – a rustle of movement, too coordinated to be another animal. As one, we stop moving. I'm tense as I filter through the scents and sounds around us. And then something catches my attention. There's something…something… I can't put my finger on it, but I feel as if I'm being drawn forward.

Through the trees, I spot a glow and then catch sight of them. A circle of people clasping hands. They're chanting. Oblivious to everything around them.

Oblivious to the danger.

And then chaos erupts around us as Lucien's vampires descend upon the gathering. The air fills with screams and the crackle of magic as witches scatter, desperately trying to defend themselves. I bark orders to my men, commanding them to hold back the attacking vampires. We can't let this bloodbath continue.

As I survey the unfolding scene, my eyes widen in surprise. The witches are more formidable than I'd anticipated. They're not cowering victims – they're fighting back with impressive force. Bolts of energy streak across the grove, felling vampires left and right. The scent of singed flesh mingles with the metallic tang of blood.

Through the chaos, I spot an older witch cornered by two of Lucien's lackeys. She raises her hands, preparing to defend herself. Without hesitation, I sprint toward them, shouting instructions to my team as I move.

"Marcus! Take the east side! Jared, cover the retreat!"

The older woman's power crackles through the air, a shimmering barrier materializing between her and her attackers. It's an impressive display, but I can see the strain on her face. She won't be able to hold out for long.

I'm almost there, ready to intervene when a flash of movement catches my eye. Another woman appears beside the older witch, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.

And just like that, the world stops spinning.

I freeze, transfixed by her presence. She's tall and willowy, with hair like living flame cascading down her back. A midnight blue dress hugs her curves, the fabric shimmering with what I can only assume is woven magic. But it's her eyes that hold me captive – green as spring leaves, flashing with defiance.

My body reacts viscerally to the sight of her, as if a jolt of electricity has set every nerve ending alight. My fangs ache, longing to extend, and a hunger unlike anything I've ever known claws at my insides. It's not bloodlust – it's something deeper, inexplicable.

The woman turns, sensing my gaze, and our eyes lock. She freezes, too, her lips parting in shock. Plump pink lips with the tiniest hint of a pout. Her skin is like porcelain, a touch of color on her high cheekbones. For a heartbeat, the battle around us fades away. There's only her, only those insanely green eyes drilling into mine.

"Darick!" Marcus's voice cuts through the haze, urgent and strained. "We need you!"

I hear him, but I can't look away. Can't move. Can't breathe.

"Wait," I manage to call back. "Wait…not now!"

The woman's expression shifts, horror dawning in those mesmerizing eyes. Recognition flashes across her face, followed swiftly by revulsion.

"You!" she exclaims, shock and disbelief laced into the words.

And suddenly, I recognize her too. The voice in my head. The presence that's been haunting me. She's real, she's here, and she's looking at me like I'm her worst nightmare come to life.