Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FIFTY

“Come, don’t be shy, Magister,” the vampire murmured, his eyes riveted to Declan’s neck. “I grow peckish.”

“Don’t bloody call me that!” He gazed out past a craggy rock face, back down the trail where the others awaited them. Brandr was supposed to tell Regin that they’d gone to scout ahead, but Declan was uneasy.

And it sat ill with him to sneak around like this, to cede his blood so shamefully. “You aren’t even supposed to drink this often,” Declan said. “Older vampires can go for weeks. Do you want more of my memories?”

“Surely the rest can’t be worse?”

When Declan only raised his brows, Lothaire said, “In any case, I lost blood fighting the Wendigos and need to refill my coffers.”

Declan gritted his teeth, rolling up a sleeve. How far I’ve fallen. Allowing himself to be drunk.

But he had no choice. If he’d had any lingering doubts that he was a member of the Lore, they’d been extinguished; Declan felt compelled by the vow he’d made.

“It’ll go faster through the neck,” Lothaire said. “And I know you want to be quick. Don’t want your female to catch you in flagrante dentate, do you?”

“Forget it.”

“I seem to recall that your vow stipulated whenever and however I chose to drink you.”

Declan’s hands tightened into fists as Lothaire moved behind him. “You’re a fuckin’ parasite.” I could never become a vampire. Filthy leeches.

“Words still hurt, Chase. Besides, you should be thanking me. My advice about the Valkyrie clearly worked. And speaking of females, if I call you by one’s name while my fangs are plunged deep in your neck, just run with it.” The vampire leaned in.

Only one more day of this vow. Just one more day.

Declan’s jaw clenched when Lothaire punctured his skin with a groan. The vampire’s hands clamped his shoulders, those sucking sounds nauseating. Again and again, Lothaire drew greedily—

Over the blustery winds, Declan heard a horrified cry, swung his gaze up. “Ah, God, Regin!”

“What kind of sick kicks are you into?” Regin screamed as she bolted away.

Lothaire had been drinking Chase—and the man had been letting him.

No wonder Brandr had stood at that pass like a guard, telling her to stay put. Her ears had twitched, alerting her that something was up. But she’d figured Chase had taken Lothaire out to kill him—not to feed him!

She’d sneaked off after them because she wanted to interrogate Lothaire before he died.

Worse, it’d taken her several seconds to react to the sight of them together. She’d been almost hypnotized by the scene as Lothaire drank. Chase’s masculine face had been tense, his gray eyes focused on the ground. Lothaire’s face had been starkly beautiful, his pale blond hair brushing Chase’s shoulder.

Light and dark. One terrible, one tragic.

And Lothaire had been… hard. “Oh, gods!” she cried as she ran back along the trail. Hot poker for my eyes! Hot poker!

Why couldn’t she have stumbled upon Chase and Brandr necking? That would’ve been crazy hot.

“Regin, wait!” Chase ran after her, his bite mark torn and bleeding. He must’ve jerked away from Lothaire. “I didn’t have a choice!” He grabbed her arm. “I had to make that vow to him. Without his aid, we wouldn’t have made it past the first night.”

She flung herself from his grip. “He can learn things about me through your blood. Can learn about my sisters!” She briefly covered her mouth. “He can see everything we’ve done! I don’t want that leech to know what we do in private.”

Lothaire strolled up, making a scoffing sound. “As if I don’t watch you two live from a distance.” He licked his crimson lips. “His staying power is increasing. As is yours. Bravo.”

They both scowled at him.

“I made a vow,” Chase told her. “I’m compelled by it. You understand this.”

“Fine. Then you should’ve kept your distance from me until you were released from it.”

He pinched his forehead. “I knew I had only days to win you.”

Brandr, Natalya, and Thad caught up to them.

“What’s going on here?” Brandr demanded. “Damn it, Regin, do you never do as you’re told?”

She blinked at him. “It’s taken you a millennium to get that?”

Lothaire said to her, “Valkyrie, I’ve seen little about your sisters that I don’t already know. Mostly I’ve been treated to Declan’s torture at the hands of my former allies, the Neoptera.”

Regin swung her head around at Lothaire. “You’re talking to me? You really wanna do this, leech? Clear the air?” Again she reached back for her swords and came up empty. With a glare, she dropped her hand to the sword at her hip. “Then let’s go! The Valkyrie know what you did to our queen. You hid Furie somewhere, torturing her for decades. Rumor has it you buried her under the sea to drown a million deaths.”

But Lothaire frowned disdainfully. “I assure you I do not know where Queen Furie is.”

“We have it from a very reliable source that you do. Your old king said so.”

“Who was crazed till the day he died.”

Regin narrowed her gaze. Lothaire was physically incapable of lying. “Then… then where is she?”

“Again, I do not know—”

Chase raised his hand, hissing, “Listen!” He flicked his fingers for her sword. Without thought, she tossed it to him. In one fluid motion, he caught it, then flung it end over end down through the treetops below.

A Cerunno uncoiled with serpentine agility, narrowly dodging the blade.

When it slithered away with a bullet’s speed, Regin cried, “We’ve got to catch it!”

“It’ll be long gone, Valkyrie,” Lothaire said. “You can’t match pace with one of that kind, not when you have a torque. Besides, you need to be running in the opposite direction. The night of our escape, I saw the Cerunnos amassing with all the Pravus allies. Among others, there were vampires, shifters, and some Sorceri—Portia and Emberine, specifically.”

“Then those bitches will be coming for us! We’ve got to attack them first.”

Lothaire gave a harsh laugh. “They’re too powerful. You’re not much stronger than a mortal right now. What hope do you have against a being who can move mountains?”

Natalya said, “As soon as Portia knows we’re on this mountain, she’ll level it.”

Lothaire turned to Chase. “You and I are faster than the others. We need to lead the Pravus away from this group. Make a lot of noise while descending as swiftly as possible, and hope they follow us. Or this mountain will fall.”

Chase gave a curt nod, then faced Brandr. “You take the others to the boat. Due west from here there’s a covered berth in a leeward cove. We’ll meet you there before sunset.”

“Oh, no, no. This is a shit plan.” Regin crossed to stand before him. “For one thing, Valkyrie don’t flee. We fight.”

“We’re running out of time,” Lothaire intoned.

Chase pulled her close to say at her ear, “Then do this to protect Thad and Natalya.” The bastard was playing on her sense of loyalty. And it was working!

When he drew back, she said, “This is still a shit plan. I can fight—I can help you!”

“I ken you can fight. Which is the only reason I’d let you out of my sight.” His confidence in her abilities continued to surprise her. “But right now, we are faster than you and the others. You know this is the most logical move.”

She did, but was pissed that they were in this position.

When she pursed her lips, he said, “If for some reason we don’t show by sunrise, take the ship.” Then Chase shared a look with Brandr. “You watch her back.”

Brandr gave a curt nod.

In Old Norse, Regin murmured, “Take me with you.”

Chase’s brows drew together. “This is the best choice, lass.” Trying to make light, he chucked her under the chin. “Is the big bad Valkyrie worried about me?”

Peering up at him, she said one word. “Yeah.”

Chase dragged her close with the crook of his arm. “Mind yourself, Regin.” Against her hair, he vowed, “I will no’ be long apart from you. ”

The Endgame commanded action, Lothaire thought as he and Chase sprinted through the brush. And I’m about to obey.

“Come, Magister, you’re flagging. Did I drink too much?”

Chase was utterly exhausted, more than from merely ceding blood. He was depleted—as if from a berserkrage. Between breaths, he snapped, “Do no’ bloody call me that!” He cast another glance back in the Valkyrie’s direction.

“You look worried. I’m sure Regin will be fine. We should be concerned more for ourselves down in this forest.”

“If something happens to me, what would it take to get you to watch over her?” Chase wiped sweat from his brow. “To make sure she gets off the island alive?”

“More than you can give. Such as a firstborn to go with my others. Matching set and all.”

“Then just move your arse. There’s a clearing up ahead.”

They broke from the trees onto a bare plateau. Chase stopped, stared. “What the hell is this, Lothaire?”

Pravus beings—fire demons, Horde vampires, shifters—had all congregated here around Portia’s makeshift stone temple. The structure looked like a roofed Stonehenge, with Emberine’s flames crawling over its stones like living things. Portia and Ember strolled out, gazing on with interest.

Lothaire tilted his head at Chase impassively. “This is a day trade. You for my freedom.”

“You son of a bitch!” He lunged for Lothaire, but a cadre of vampire guards traced to intercept him.

“I delivered you unto them for the late Fegley’s severed hand, or, more importantly, his thumb,” Lothaire explained as the guards whaled blows on Chase. “As for your fate—the Pravus are planning to gather here at sunset and make a proper sacrifice out of you.”

Chase thrashed as the vampires forced him to an upright slab of stone, binding his limbs to it. “How long have you been plottin’ this, you fuck?”

“Emberine came to me this morning. As soon as she’d realized she hadn’t killed you in the facility.” Apparently she and Portia would’ve attacked the group earlier, but they were wary of young Thaddeus. At last Lothaire had discovered what the boy was.

They were right to be wary.

As the guards took turns beating Chase, Ember tossed Lothaire the rotting, discolored hand. “Your payment, Lothaire.”

“Spasibo. With my deepest thanks.” He took the bloated thumb and pressed it against the lock on his torque. Nothing. He turned the hand upside down, trying it the other way. Still nothing. “My dear Emberine, I hate to be a bother, but the warden’s print doesn’t work.”

She laughed, and wisps of fire flew from her lips. “I never said it would work. I merely vowed that it was Fegley’s.”

Portia snickered. “Come, Lothaire, days have passed since the hand was. … harvested. Out in the rain, it’s decomposed.”

Blyad’! That they would dare pull this stunt with him?

He hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t predicted it—because now there was a new variable. His weakness. His inability to remove this collar.

So I’m no closer to escaping this place. To rescuing her. His fangs sharpened with rage. But his master dictated coolness.

Lothaire gave them his most charming smile, the one he usually reserved for imminent victims. “Shall we negotiate for a ride from this island? One of these demons or a brother vampire could trace me from here in a heartbeat.”

Portia said, “What do you have?”

Lothaire answered, “I can get you the Valkyrie.”