Chapter 10

I taste mud in my mouth. It's cold and thick, filling my throat, ears, and nose. Everything is dark.

I'm cold. So cold.

It's all I can think. I'm cold. I have a longing for a warmth I can't remember. A security I've never had. And a need to take a breath, but there's no air to claim for myself.

Gods, I long for it.

It's noisy. Rumbling shudders through my body, and then suddenly, there's air. More coldness and wetness. Rain pours down from the night sky, and I see my mother. Her face is streaked with tears, and she sobs so loudly, it's deafening. Her fingers reach into my throat, and she scoops mud out. I cry. But it's not my cry. It's the cry of a baby. A brand new baby but coming from me. She holds me to her chest, and I find that warmth I crave. I feel that security I never knew. She takes my hand.

It's so small and clings to her finger tightly. On my wrist are markings.

Kindred markings.

‘Thank you,' my mother cries. ‘I will be in debt to you for all eternity.' She leans down and kisses the ground. ‘Thank you.'

Behind her, I see a man looking down at us both. Invisible to my mother as she holds my baby form to her chest, shielding me from the rain.

The man steps closer and crouches beside her. He strokes my face and inspects my hand, looking at the Kindred markings. Rain tumbles down his face, soaking his hair and clothes. My mother doesn't see him. Because he's not here.

This is a dream.

His gaze lands on mine.

‘You watching me, Pixie?' Shaw asks.

Any attempt I make to speak only makes my wailing louder. He takes me from my mother's arms, lifting me.

‘You were a cute little thing, weren't you.'

When he stands, I'm at his side. My body. My age.

‘What the…' I breathe, looking down at my mother kneeling in the mud and cradling me. I'm a newborn. So small as she wraps me in her coat. Completely covered in mud. The Kindred markings are on my wrist.

But my torso is covered in blood.

My mother places one of her many bracelets on the ground. She speaks in words I don't understand, but I taste the magic in the air and feel it tingling on my skin. The ground shakes, and she keeps muttering her words, rocking back and forth, until the bracelet rises from the soil entangled in vines. They sink into the silver, leaving behind the pattern I know well. She places it on my wrist, and it shrinks to fit.

The kindred markings disappear, hidden away with the glamour.

‘It will grow with you, my daughter,' my mother says softly. ‘Never take it off. They will put you in the fire if they see your markings.' She rests her hand back on the earth, where a small mound holds a large jade stone.

‘Sleep well in the earth that loves you so,' she says.

Shaw looks at me, his brow furrowed.

‘I don't understand,' I tell him. ‘What's happening?'

Shaw reaches out and rests his hand on my cheek. It creates tremendous pressure, and when I scream, the darkened forest disappears, and I'm back in my room with my father descending on me with his cane in his hand.

He beats me as I try to escape to the underneath of the bed. And in a blink, I'm on a beach. Alone. Watching the gentle waves break on the sand.

I stay there for hours, utterly at peace.

Alow mumbling drifts into my peaceful sleep and calls me back to the waking world. Nightmares are a firm companion of mine. It feels odd to wake without the cold sweat and sense of dread. It's as though I'm painfully hungover as I try to abandon the dream of lying on a sandy beach, watching the waves break on the sand and the perfect clouds drift across a brilliantly blue sky.

My mouth is dry. My head throbs and my ribs ache from what I think was a bout of extremely violent heaving.

‘Where do you think her father went?' I hear Archie ask.

‘Not sure. But I'm going to find out,' Dorian replies. ‘Then we'll see how he likes being lashed to shit and left scarred up. I'm amazed she's not insane if she's been living with this Kindred untrained. That, along with the obvious torture she's been living with.'

‘You're angry,' Archie realises. ‘I thought you didn't like her.'

‘I don't like evil blood witch bitches. But I find myself hating the idea of her suffering. She doesn't feel like the others did. Maybe it's the mud witch magic in her. Never seen a witch with both.'

‘You getting soft, Dorian?'

‘Don't tell me this sits well with you, Arch? Those scars? This under the bed shit?'

‘No. Of course, it doesn't sit well with me.'

I open my eyes. It's dark and warm. Above me, the base of a bed blocks my view. But this time, I'm on the softest pile of blankets. A deep pillow rests under my head, and a jar filled with fire bugs sits nearby. When I peer past them, Shaw lies on the floor facing me. He has a pillow under his head and a sheet covering his body. He's topless. Hell, he could be naked under that black sheet. His calmness as he lays there has my breath catching in my throat. After everything that's happened, it feels strange to see him so still. He's watching me closely, not under the bed, just beyond it.

‘We gonna remind the coven that this shit ain't on?' Dorian asks from somewhere else in the room. ‘They're getting cocky. We forbade this years ago.'

‘Better believe we are,' Shaw replies, not once looking away from me. ‘Whatever is left of them anyway.'

‘Oh, you've finished walking?' Archie asks. ‘See anything interesting?'

‘A fair bit. Yeah. Talk later, though.'

Archie shifts. ‘Maybe I should wolf out on them again. Leave them just barely alive so Pixie can take her time to piss on them as they die.' Archie chuckles. ‘That was fucking hot.'

I turn. Behind me, Archie is on the floor as well. He's staring at the ceiling with his hands beneath his head. Like Shaw, there's a blanket over his body and a pillow beneath his head. He's shirtless and all muscle, not an ounce of fat. His chest is covered in tattoos. The most prominent one being a great wolf howling to a full moon. He lifts a bottle of amber liquid and takes a swig.

‘I'd pay to see that,' Dorian agrees.

I follow the sound of his voice. Looking past my feet, I see Dorian, just like the others. On the floor. Shirtless. A pillow and sheet.

'We'll go see them tomorrow,' Shaw says. 'Remind them who they answer to. After all, their coven leader is dead. Which means a new one will need to be installed. And we know what that means.'

A slight smile tugs on his lips. One that isn't from a wholesome kind of joy. It's dark.

It makes him look beautiful.

‘A swearing-in ceremony,' Archie laughs. ‘Oh, I do enjoy a swearing-in. The wine. The music. The kneeling. The food.'

‘You don't eat,' I say, causing Dorian and Archie to look my way.

‘And she's awake,' Archie grins. ‘Finally. I didn't mean your kind of food, Pixie.'

‘What kind?' I ask.

‘He means the girls they offer us to feed on,' Dorian replies dryly. ‘The human king is most gracious with his offerings, and Archie is never one to refuse a delicacy.'

‘What's…' I clear my throat, hating the idea of any of them with a pretty young woman offering them her neck. Or anything else. ‘What is a swearing-in?'

The other two shift to look at me like a fool who just asked if the sun rises in the morning.

‘When a new coven leader is installed, they're summoned to a celebration where they will pledge loyalty and obedience to the human laws. And to us, the enforcers of this region. There's kneeling. Bowing.' Shaw holds out his hand. ‘They even kiss our hands. You don't know of the swearing-in ceremony?'

‘I've had the same coven leader my entire life. Cole said that when his time comes, the coven will have a great celebration lasting seven days. If it's like the last celebration I attended, I'll gladly miss it.' The atmosphere, already tense, goes rigid. ‘He never said that he would have to attend a human ceremony. Cole will be the new coven leader,' I say. ‘Assuming he's still alive. He will kneel to you?' I ask Shaw. I think he catches the twisted sense of joy I get from that. Cole hates Shaw and the guys. Hates beyond measure. Loathes and detests are just a few words to describe his feelings towards the them.

‘He will,' Shaw replies.

‘Can I watch?'

He laughs. They all do. It's a deep and playful laugh that vibrates through the floor to me from every side.

‘Let's see if he's alive first, shall we?'

‘He's alive. Cockroaches and rats are never that easy to kill.'

He nods in agreement.

‘Why are you all on the floor?' I ask when their laughter eases. I catch a smell on the floor around me, like oranges and cinnamon. I run my finger over the underside of the bed. ‘Did you clean under here?'

‘You feel safe under there, right?' Archie asks. ‘We cleaned it up and made it comfortable. That's all.'

‘Why?'

No one answers me.

‘Why?' I repeat.

‘Because you deserve better than cowering in dust and darkness,' Shaw says. ‘And we think you've earned a little bit of comfort.'

‘That's a strange sentiment to come from a man who breaks my bones, bites me and-'

‘Made you orgasm so hard you almost broke the fingers I was fucking you with?' Shaw adds, his words making me blush. ‘Quit the act, Pixie. Blood witches are primal creatures. Carnal and brutal. You enjoyed blood sharing, and you damn well enjoyed us playing with you. You're not a mud witch. You don't have their hang-ups. Sex, pleasure, pain, blood and power are nothing to be ashamed of. Not for you and not for us.' I watch him as he looks up at the ceiling. ‘We're going to help you manage your magic. Soon, you won't need to worry about the shadows in the mirrors. The spirits will be yours to command. Not the other way around. Until then, I've had all the mirrors in the castle removed.'

‘And I have made you a talisman to wear on your wrist. It will help keep spirits from view,' Dorian informs me. I look; sure enough, beads and pendants are wrapped around my wrist.

‘So you see a few scars and decide to be gentlemen?'

‘First. What you have are not a few scars, Pixie. Second. We're not gentlemen.' Shaw faces me. ‘All we did was clean under our beds.'

‘Wax, furnish, and even catch fire bugs as a night light for me.'

‘As I said. If this is where you feel safe, then you may as well be comfortable.' He rolls onto his back and sighs. ‘Get some sleep.'

‘You're a dream walker, aren't you?'

‘Sleep, Pixie.'

‘The dust from your palm… my mother read me stories.'

‘Stories about me?'

‘Stories of creatures created by the gods and goddesses witches serve. Stories of their offspring who inherit great powers and monstrous forms. You're not a vampire. You're a sleep spirit. A dream walker.'

‘Is that so?'

‘You had me dreaming of the sea. But I've never seen the sea.'

‘Clever little Pixie.'

Fuck… my heart hammers harder as I realise just how powerful these men actually are.

‘You saw me dream about the trigger. That's how you knew about it.'

He doesn't reply.

‘Was that a memory? My mother under the trees. Me in the mud.'

‘Go back to sleep.'

‘Will you walk my dreams again?'

‘You don't dream. You scream.'

I pull up the sheet and tuck it tight under my neck.

‘Why are you on the floor too? I can't run. I have nowhere to go.'

‘To keep you safe. To keep us safe.'

‘You safe?' Now I laugh. ‘You worried I'll hurt you?'

‘If we're here, we're not out there hunting down your sadistic fuck of a father or old coven.' His arm falls over his eyes. ‘Or tearing Cole's face off. All of which is a breach in the treaty.'

‘Do you think he knows this trigger thing? Cole, I mean.'

‘Maybe.' His voice is distinctly colder.

They all fall silent, but it's not a calm quiet. Not the kind that precedes sleep. It makes the air thicker and colder all at the same time.

‘Once a week,' I say.

‘What?' Shaw yawns.

‘Once a week. You can feed from me once a week to give your powers strength. I won't fight you or be difficult.'

‘What if we like you being difficult?' Archie teases.

I tut.

‘Well?' I ask Shaw, ignoring Archie.

He lifts his arm. ‘And what do you want in return?'

‘Freedom.'

‘Let you go?' he scoffs. ‘No.' His arm returns over his eyes as he settles to sleep.

‘Let me out of this room. Let me walk the grounds. Let me…' I take a second to think about what I want. About what I might get.

‘What?' Shaw urges.

‘Have some fucking fun,' I choose. We face each other. ‘I leave here, I'm dead. I fight you guys, I'll wish I was dead. You want my blood, have it. Just let me live a little.'

‘And what does that look like? Letting you live a little?'

‘Let me walk the grounds. Explore. Meet the others who live here. I saw one with horns the other day.'

‘I'm not sure you would much like the company we keep. The creatures that live in this place aren't known for their gentlemanly nature.'

‘And you are?'

‘True…'

‘I don't know who you think I am. You said entitled princess. You called me a spoilt brat,' I shake my head. ‘You have me confused with someone else. I've never been entitled to anything and most certainly have never been spoilt. My father puts on a good show for the coven. I played the role of dutiful daughter well because if I didn't… I think you know what I would get. I like swearing. Getting dirty. Running through the wildness of the trees. Getting soaked in the lakes. I want to read outside in the sunshine. Back home, reading wasn't for females. But I love reading.' I swallow an anxious swallow. ‘I want you to promise you won't ever use the trigger against me. I don't want to get beaten. And I don't want to be controlled.'

‘We will never use the trigger,' Shaw cuts in. 'And I never would have if I knew you needed to be hurt afterwards.' I believe him. I believe that dark flash of anger in his eyes and the outrage I saw when they discovered what my father did. ‘So you want to be let loose here? If we agree, you'll do everything we say?'

‘When you say everything…'

‘If we want blood, you'll give it?'

‘Yes. Once a week.'

‘Twice a week'

‘And clothing optional,' Archie cuts in.

I scoff. ‘Clothing entirely mandatory,' I reply, making Archie groan loudly.

‘Anything else?' Dorian asks dryly. ‘Some gold, perhaps? A sword?'

‘Yes. There is something, actually. I want to watch Cole bow to you, and I want him to see me standing with you, looking fucking stunning and strong.' The corner of Shaw's mouth pulls up a little. ‘I want to make him pay for what he did to me. He can have the coven. But I want him to know that I am happy and strong. That I am more free now than I was before. I don't care if it's true or not. I want him to think it is. To be consumed by it. He said he would love me forever. That he would protect me. He stabbed me and watched everyone else cut me.' That slight smile on Shaw's lips falters. ‘Then he fucked my best friend right in front of me. Again. And his father was going to…' I look to my right. To Archie, who saved me from that dagger. ‘Do we have a deal?' I ask.

All three of the men sit up and have a meeting over the top of the bed. They whisper too quietly for me to hear as they kneel on the floor around me. I wait, butterflies becoming swarming bees in my stomach.

They return to their makeshift beds.

‘Blood twice a week for all three of us,' Shaw declares. ‘Whenever and however we choose. Together or separate.'

‘Fine,' I agree.

‘You will follow our rules and behave yourself in all ways.'

‘Okay.'

‘You will never hurt yourself again. And no lies. We ask you something, you answer.'

‘Anything else?'

‘Yes. You will never refuse us when we need you to use your magic.'

‘You want me to reanimate dead cats?'

‘We might. Do we have a deal?' Shaw holds out his hand. When I go to shake it, he pulls it just a little out of reach. ‘And we get to make you orgasm when we bite you if we want.'

‘What? Why?'

‘You taste incredible, and it makes your blood more potent.' He reoffers his hand. ‘Deal?'

‘I'm not returning the favour. You want to make me orgasm, have at it,' I reply, reaching out and taking his hand.

‘Agreed.'

We shake.

And with a satisfied little smirk, he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.

I curl up and follow him into sleep.

An odd sort of excitement filling me from head to toe.