Chapter Twenty-eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A n hour later, she was looking more at the trees than she was watching the path. Her paranoia spread to the guys, and they hovered so close, they were practically tripping over each other. She'd swear that she could almost hear voices on the breeze. When they rounded the bend, the guys darted to the side, dragging her with them and out of sight.

The men blocked her on each side, so she saw nothing but the tree in front of her. The vines looked like they were digging into the trunk, leaving gouges behind that looked like wounds. When she touched the liquid, the vine creaked and tightened its hold, like it feared she would try to take away its meal.

She looked at her fingers, and her eyes widened when it appeared they were covered in what looked like blood. The vines were feeding on the magic of Faerie. When the magic was gone, the trees were left to die.

"We need to detour and go around them."When Atlas went to grab her arm, she caught his hand.

"No, we can't go into the forest." Even now, her skin crawled with the need to put as much distance between her and the tree they were standing against. "If we head deeper into the forest, we will never come out again. "

Caedmon put a finger under her chin, lifted her face, then sighed at whatever he saw. "Very well, but you are to remain behind us the entire time. If you don't, Atlas will toss you over his shoulder and continue on the journey while I deal with the threat."

"Fuck no." Morgan grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. "We do this together. If either of you numbskulls try it, I will send you back home and finish the trial on my own. Do we have an understanding?"

Though neither man was happy with her ultimatum, they didn't object.

They were both smart and realized they didn't have a fucking choice.

Caedmon stepped back onto the path first, Atlas waiting for her to go next before he followed. When they rounded the bend, she got her first look at what had freaked them out.

Vampires.

Morgan stood rooted to the spot. Vampires were so secretive, many people thought they were extinct, but it appeared the majority of them had just retreated to Faerie when they could no longer keep themselves hidden from humans. It made sense that they would live with the dark fae—they would never again have to worry about the sun and could live their lives like normal.

Vampirism was a virus that changed the human body, craving blood a nasty side effect to keeping their enhanced bodies alive. Those with the right DNA that could access magic survived the change. Those without magic died in agony as their body consumed itself.

The vampires in front of them barely resembled humans any longer. Their skin was pale, almost sallow, their hair limp and falling out. The skin around their eyes was so bruised, it left deep black and purple veins streaking halfway down their hollow cheeks. The same marks were stretched around their mouths as well.

It looked like they'd gone ten rounds against a giant and lost .

If she squinted, she spotted dark bruises dotting their necks, like rot had taken root.

And it was spreading.

Her gut churned in understanding, and she had to swallow back the need to puke.

They were feeding on each other, starving when there weren't enough nutrients in the blood.

Without enough blood, they would devolve until they were nothing more than monsters.

"They're dying."

And slowly.

In a horrific way that would drive them insane first.

The vampireswhirled at the sound of her voice. They moved fast, almost a blur as they spread out. The one on the left hissed, his fangs extended. They should've been only slightly longer than normal incisors, but they lengthened to nearly twice the size, like they were on steroids. His eyes reddened, and the black lines along his face pulsed, spreading up his forehead.

The other two vampires weren't nearly as far along. The male in front of the others had only minor changes, his eyes clearer, some semblance of sanity remaining. Though he held up his hands and backed away, he unconsciously licked his lips.

Caedmon reacted almost as fast as the vampires. He was halfway between the vampires and her, his sword raised, tracking all three at the same time. While he was good, she doubted he could take three vampires without getting hurt.

But the starved vampires weren't attacking.

Morgan slowly approached Caedmon, his shoulders stiffening at her approach, clearly pissed she hadn't kept her distance. She placed a hand on his back, running it up and down his spine, then glanced at the leader of the vampires. "We're just passing through the forest. We didn't mean to disturb you."

The vampire flicked a glance at her, which caused Caedmon to tense.

It was only then she realized that Atlas had vanished.

Fear prickled along her spine, and it was all she could do not to overreact. She sensed he was near and uninjured, so she focused back on the vampires.

The vampire on the right gave a slightly hysterical laugh, looking at them like they were the ones that were insane. "You'll never leave the forest alive."

Atlas almost seemed to appear out of thin air as he charged out of the woods and tackled the vampire to the ground. Caedmon moved at the same time, heading for the leader of the group when the rabid vampire on the left leapt forward.

"Stop!" both she and the vampire leader yelled at the same time.

The effects were immediate. The other vampires froze in place like they were held by an invisible force. Beads of sweat that looked like blood lined the vampire's forehead, his arms shaking under the strain it took to hold the others.

Thankfully, Caedmon had listened to her command as well, his sword pausing just short of decapitating the vampire. The creature had his mouth opened wide, fangs extended to rip out Caedmon's throat like a vicious dog. His eyes were red with bloodlust, his nails stretched like claws, his fingers practically twitching with the need to dig them into Caedmon's chest.

With great reluctance, Caedmon retreated to her side, never lowering his weapon.

Same with Atlas.

Her dark fae released his hold on the now prone vampire and strode toward her like he had every intention of spanking her for interfering. Only when they were both back at her side did Morgan allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

"It wasn't a threat," the vampire in charge said as he slowly released his hold on the others. The effort it took to control them seemed to wipe him out, and she knew there would be no more help from that quarter if it came to a fight. "He just misspoke. No one ever leaves the dark forest—the forest itself doesn't allow it."

The vampire looked young as he ran a trembling hand down his face, blowing out a heavy sigh when he glared at the vampire who was slowly pushing himself up to his feet. The man ducked his head, eyes downcast as he went to the other vampire, dragging the deranged man away from them like he was trying to remove temptation. The starved vampire heaved as he struggled for control, but he willingly stumbled away.

The vampire straightened, his head cocked to the side as he stared at them. Then his brows furrowed, and he took a step toward them.

"You're…not marked." He jerked upright at the revelation, his face hardening with determination. "You need to get out of the forest before nightfall. If you can make it without getting marked, you still have a chance."

"Marked?" Atlas scanned the three vampires, but it was impossible to differentiate between all the marks that littered their bodies. The leader pulled up his pant leg, revealing a deeply infected wound. At the center of the infection was a large pustule that wept an almost fluorescent green puss. Dark green veins were etched under the skin, like they had graphed themselves to his leg. The magic was different from the void magic, different from Faerie, more like a parasite.

She slapped a hand over her mouth as the stench of rot reached her, and she swallowed hard, refusing to lose her lunch.

Atlas didn't have the same problem, interest turning the green in his umber eyes brighter. "You've tried to lance the injury and medication?"

The vampire pulled a blade from his boot and scraped it along his leg, collecting the fluorescent goo. "It's the same sludge that leaks from the vines when we injure it."

He flicked the goop toward the ground with a grimace of disgust. Sheathing his blade, he lowered the bottom of his pants and covered the wound. "We've tried everything, even magic. It acts like the vines. Anytime we try to dig the infection out, the barbs push deeper. It's extremely painful. Even if we knock the patient out, the body can't cope with the pain and blood loss. They die halfway through the extraction process."

A bird swooped overhead, and the vampire glanced up, his face turning grim. "We need to move if you want to reach the borders. Darkness will fall in a few hours."

Morgan tipped her head to the side, not sure she understood. "You're going to accompany us?"

He gave a stiff nod. "You won't make it without one or more of you getting infected. We will do our best to keep you safe, but…the chances that you will survive are slim."

That was when he pulled two blades that looked like machetes from the harness on his back. The other two vampires had recovered somewhat and returned, both of them carrying seven-foot stone spears that contained wicked-looking foot-long blades.

When they started walking, Morgan remained still. Caedmon took a step forward but paused when she didn't follow. Whatever he saw on her face made him scowl.

"No." He didn't say anything else, looking a step away from dragging her after him if needed.

Morgan crossed her arms and glared at him. "You're being unreasonable."

"And you have three trials you need to pass before we reach the castle," he yelled in exasperation, taking a step toward her, his beast leaking through his control. He straightened his shoulders, gaining some of his calm, his voice softening. "I thought you wanted to get back to the coven and your mates. The longer we stay, the longer it will take to get back to them."

He played dirty.

The bastard!

Not ready to concede defeat, she pursed her lips, and a sinking sensation hit her stomach. "What if these are my trials?"

That shut him up, his mouth closing so fast that she'd swear his teeth clinked together.

Atlas stiffened at her side, then grabbed her elbow, turning her to face him. "Is that what you believe?"

Morgan deflated, suddenly uncertain, which only frustrated her more. "I don't know! Have either of you been on trial before? You're my guide. What's it supposed to be like? "

"I don't know, I've only heard rumors. Trials are reserved for special circumstances, threats directly targeting Faerie that the fae can't solve by killing or imprisoning. I haven't heard of anyone who went to trial and survived." Atlas turned toward Caedmon, seeking more information.

A muscle ticked in Caedmon's jaw, and the weapon he held dipped. His voice was a rough growl when he spoke. "We are not privy to the results of the trial. All threats are considered done when the trial has ended and no further action is needed."

"Well that's not ominous or anything," Morgan snarked and pulled away from Atlas. She threw her hands up and released a shout of frustration. It didn't help much, but it made her feel better. Morgan glanced at the guys, and her gaze landed on the vampires in the distance, noticing their ragged shape.

They wouldn't last much longer on their own.

"Fuck it! If I'm on trial, then I want them to see the woman I am." She tried not to let Caedmon's worry weaken her resolve to do the right thing. "I'm an assassin. It's my job to help when needed. I won't turn my back on them just to make my life easier."

Once the decision was made, a weight lifted off her.

Fighting, she could do.

She turned toward Atlas, biting back a sigh of relief when he didn't try to talk her out of it. "You're not disappointed?"

"You could never disappoint me," he said without a hint of hesitation.

Love shone so brightly in his eyes that her heart swelled. His support steadied her nerves, and she knew she'd made the right decision. She turned to face the vampire leader. "My name is Morgan. These are my mates, Atlas and Caedmon. I can't guarantee your freedom, but if you want my help to try and leave the forest, I'll do my best."

None of the vampires moved or even breathed at her offer.

Then she had to wonder if they even needed to breathe. Vampires were all but extinct on Earth, only a few clans remaining. All she knew were myths and rumors, and most of that was tainted by human media and fiction.

The leader took a shuddering breath, looking devastated at the offer. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then he shook himself, his face hardening. Before he could speak, the vampire on the right grabbed his arm and answered before he could respond.

"Yes, we would be eternally grateful for anything you can do." Tears of blood swam in his eyes, and he blinked furiously.

When the leader rounded on him, the man lifted his chin, refusing to be cowed. "They wouldn't have offered to help unless they thought they could do something. We have to try."

His voice broke on the last word, and that seemed to take the steam out from the leader. He gave one sharp nod and turned toward her with a grim expression. "Any assistance you can give would be greatly appreciated. I'm Petre Domovich. My guards are Bernard Dubois and Kevin Sternisch."

Bernard was the crazy one. Despite everything happening, he didn't seem to know what was going on around him.

"You understand we can't guarantee your safety if you stay," Petre warned, running a shaky hand over the back of his scalp. "If you stay past dark, the chances of you leaving are slim."

Morgan ignored Caedmon's growl and nodded. "We understand."

She just hoped she knew what the hell she was doing. If either of her mates suffered because of her decision?—

"Stop." Atlas threaded his fingers with hers, pulling her out of her spiral. "If we weren't here, you wouldn't hesitate to help them. We are grown men and trained warriors. We can deal with whatever comes."

He was asking her to trust him just like he trusted her.

No reservations.

No doubts.

She gave a sharp nod and squeezed his fingers. She could do that. "Then we better get moving. I don't think I would enjoy being out after dark. "

She glanced at their dreary, nearly morbid surroundings and shuddered.

It was like something out of a zombie version of Wonderland.

No thank you.

It took them over an hour to return to the village. The vampires kept close, only venturing away to check traps. They only managed to catch three rabbits…if you could even call them that. They weren't cute and fluffy. Instead, they looked like a cross between a rat and a bunny. Though they had long ears, their eyes were a disturbing blood red, and their protruding teeth were as long as her fingers. Blood stained the stringy tuffs of white fur that covered them. They had sharp claws and a whip-like rat tails that could no doubt filet flesh from bone.

When they hit the village, her chest felt like it had been pierced by a thousand needles, their despair making her heart clutch. There were nearly three hundred people present, some so rail thin, they were walking skeletons. About a third of them were vampires, but the rest were creatures across all breeds—fairies, dwarves, brownies, even elves, and so many more.

And they'd only brought home three rabbits.

Petre handed off their kills to a waiting elf. The woman accepted the food with a grateful nod, not a word of reproach escaping as she turned to prepare the food.

The village itself was small for so many people, the place crowded. There were no trees or vegetation of any kind, just bare dirt beneath their feet. The old and weak were given the job of sweeping with a modified broom. It looked like they were just moving around dirt, but they were so diligent in their task, she suspected it was something more serious.

"Follow me. We can discuss how you'd like to proceed." Petre headed toward one of the stone buildings clustered toward the middle of the village. The whole village was surrounded by crackling fire, a thick ring of flames licking at the sky as dark smoke trailed in the air.

The heat had to be atrocious, but at least a dozen people maintained each section. They had their shirts off, sweat slicking their backs. Soot stained their skins…what she could see of it from the fine coating of ash they wore.

"They maintain the fires to keep the forest from encroaching and crossing the barriers." Kevin waited by the door, holding it open for her to pass. Instead of entering, he steered Bernard away, leaving Morgan to follow the others on her own.

More fires were lit inside the building, two on each side of the room, turning the air sweltering. Not that anyone seemed to pay it any mind. No one stood idle. People created pots, wove clothing, repaired tools and weapons. Even the children were kept busy, hauling around items for the adults.

Petre led them toward a corner that consisted of a half dozen large rocks. In the center was a flat stone that stood no taller than her knees.

Petre smiled at her look. "Nothing plant based in nature can cross the barrier—no wood, no grains, no plants or seeds. Everything must be cooked before we allow them across the barrier."

Two women approached, one a vampire by the looks of the open sores and dark rot that forked its way under her skin. The other was a young dryad so thin, it looked like a strong breeze could blow her over. They both bowed toward Petre, their eyes lowered. "Are you hungry?"

At the offer, a tremble went through Petre's hand where it rested on his knee, and he tightened his grip on his leg. He smiled politely at the girls, his eyes gentle. "Thank you so much for the offer, but I'm fine."

Both women nodded and shuffled away, their heads lowered. As they passed, Morgan saw a sheen of bloody tears swim in the vampire's downcast eyes.

Despite being starving, he'd sent them away.

Protected them.

Neither woman looked like they could survive much longer.

Another man entered the building, a small flask in his hands. He headed toward them and handed it over to Petre. "Your share of the blood from the hunts."

Petre sloshed the contents in the flask and raised his brows. The man lifted his chin and scowled, refusing to cower. "We had a good day."

It was a lie.

Petre hesitated, then drank the blood slowly, his eyes closing as he savored every last drop. It barely made a dent in his hunger. He was so depleted that even the small amount left a slight flush to his cheeks.

The vampire took a bracing breath and handed back the flask with a solemn nod of thanks. When the man turned to leave, Atlas grabbed the pack of supplies on his back and held it out. "Our contributions for the meal."

The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, clearly not trusting them, but he couldn't turn down the offer for food. He clutched it to his chest as he left.

Morgan glanced at Petre, her mind working through everything they saw. "You don't kill to drink."

He shook his head, then sighed. "It's getting harder and harder to control some of the younger ones. We try to live in harmony here. We need each other to survive. If a vampire kills, there must be consequences. None of us can survive without the other."

He acted so honorable that she couldn't piece together what bothered her. "So if you're not craven killers without a conscience, who would set a trap to keep you imprisoned, waiting for you to die?"

Atlas gave a pained groan at her crass words, but Petre didn't take offense, seeming more contemplative. "I don't think it started off that way. The neighboring lands decided they didn't want vampires in their community, so they planted the vines as a deterrent to keep us out.

"The vines were supposed to just create a barrier and prevent us from crossing, but something in the soil infected the plant. Instead of a barrier, it traps anyone in the forest that it touches, marking them as food."

Morgan didn't ask if they'd tried to leave. If it had been possible, they would already be gone. "So the only way you can get out is if the vines were destroyed."

Petre gave a sharp bark of laughter. "The whole forest is infected. It would be impossible to clear it."

"Fire?" Atlas tipped his head in curiosity, and Morgan slowly sat up as an idea began to stir.

Petre grimaced and shook his head. "We tried that, but the plants smother it before it can spread."

Morgan rubbed her fingers against her mouth as she mentally went over her risky plan. "Has anyone tried magic on the vines?"

Petre winced at the memory and nodded. "It pisses it off."

"Which means it affects it." A grin curled the edges of her mouth, and Caedmon's eyes narrowed.

He leaned toward her, his yellow eyes bright with curiosity. "You have an idea."

She couldn't help but grin back. "A really bad, dangerous one. Are you in?"

His smile widened, his beast peering back at her. His voice was husky when he replied, "Those are the best kind."