Eternal Legacy: Shadowsend Vampire Clan: 4, page 1
ETERNAL LEGACY
SHADOWSEND VAMPIRE CLAN: 4
L.A. MCGINNIS
Copyright L.A. McGinnis 2024
All rights reserved
Copy Editor: Proofreading by Jade
Cover Design: Janus Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any means, without express permission from the author or publisher. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, including businesses, companies, events or locales is purely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-76-4
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-77-1
Published in the United States of America by Fools Journey Press, 2024
If you love reverse harems with detailed plot, unforgettable characters and tons of steam,
you can join my readers group here: www.lamcginnis.com
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Epilogue
Also by L.A. McGinnis
1
AISLING FORGE
In the last two weeks, I’d lost everything.
My mate. My friends. My clan.
Water trickled down the middle of my back, plastering my hair to my face and freezing my already chilled skin as a steady, cold rain poured down, soaking the ruins of Laith Castle and the small knot of mourners gathered in front of them.
I couldn’t work up the energy to care as Finn and Brendan lowered Esme’s glass-topped coffin into the ground with a crushing sense of finality, as if the wet clay of our homeland couldn’t wait to accept her into its clutching grasp.
Soon enough, I thought, watching the brown dirt swallow up my friend, visible through the glass lid, looking peacefully asleep in her nest of perfect white satin.
Soon enough you will get us all, immortality or not, and we’ll rot, right along with the worms.
Esme would have scolded me for such morbid thoughts. Set me to some tedious, unsavory task to pull me out of my funk. But she was dead and this wasn’t a teenage brood. This was reality.
Our clan had no queen.
Nor did we have a king. My mate had been gone for two weeks.
The mating bond in my chest ached, my hollowed-out heart jarring with every shovelful of dirt hitting the top of Esme’s casket, each one building on the smothering sense of doom I couldn’t shake.
There was no word of Darrow. No sign Rowan and Nikolai had managed to locate him on the Elders’ secret island, despite being gone for days. We hadn’t received a message or had a single sighting since they’d left. Not knowing, I’d decided days ago, was far worse than knowing their fates. I couldn’t stop imagining Rowan, Nikolai, and Darrow held prisoner on the island and all the horrific things Magnis was doing to them.
I rubbed the round, still-tender scar on the top of my hand.
The scar on my palm—made by a silver knife as sharp as a razor—should have been one way to reach my mate and Nikolai. But that was a dead end, since an iron bullet severed the connection as neatly as it had severed flesh and bone.
If I would have been functioning the day Rowan left, I never would have let him go. I would have gotten on my knees and convinced him to stay, but I hadn’t been able to talk.
So I’d lain there, watching Rowan walk away, straining to get out the one word that might have made a difference.
Stop.
I hadn’t even managed to do that properly.
Four days later, I’d stumbled out of bed. Two more passed before I’d croaked out my first words. Where did he go? When will he be back? Finn had held me tight, with whispered promises to bring Rowan and Dar home. His strong, steadying presence had gotten me through this past week, but even Finn’s eternal optimism couldn’t pull me out of this fog of misery.
“…We are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are…” Brendan’s quiet, somber words—a quote from Esme’s favorite poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson—faded amongst the pounding, freezing rain.
I’d warm myself up, but…my magic was gone, like Rowan and Nikolai.
Never to return, like my mother and Esme.
For the briefest moment, I swore I felt a shimmer of heat, like someone laid their warm, comforting palm over my forehead, then I stared up into the gray, monotonous skies and the feeling was gone.
Val pulled her hood up over her face and her red lips—the only splash of color besides the single red rose clutched in Esme’s pale hands—were pinched together in grief and disapproval and outright rage.
Her eyes met mine, blazing with fire for a moment before emptying out again. I could hardly speak. Scarlett hadn’t stopped crying for days. We were all a mess. Finn, me, Val. Brendan was working day and night to track down Rowan, but lately, my sire was avoiding me because he didn’t have the heart to say those dreaded words once again.
I’m sorry, Ash. Nothing yet.
Deston de Rayne and Seraphina had come from America, along with Luthor and Cyrus, all of them pale and somber. Deston, especially, had barely said a word. Understandable since, out of us all, he’d known Esme the longest.
We were surrounded by a tense circle of armed Knightsguard—both ours and the Darkfell clan’s—a necessity since Magnis continued his purge. Two smaller unprotected clans had been attacked since we’d taken down Acheron, every member butchered.
The mage meant what he said. He was going to eradicate us, down to the very last vampire.
“Almost over, sweet girl, then we’ll get you inside.” Finn hugged me closer, and I blinked back tears. Not for Esme. Not for me. But for that faint note of hope in Finn’s voice, as if there was any outcome to this disaster except all of us ending up in the dirt.
Across the hole, Wolf gripped Scarlett like he’d never let her go, her magic forming an invisible umbrella over their heads, her loud sniffles the only sound other than the rain hammering the loose dirt to mud.
With a wave of his hand, Brendan piled the rest of the dirt on top of Esme. I swallowed down bile as she disappeared from view, trying to hold onto my last glimpse of her beautiful, pale face, knowing that, too, would eventually fade away.
“We should have burned her,” I muttered. “This is fucking barbaric.”
“This is what she wanted, Ash.” Finn cradled my numb hands as if they were broken baby birds. “You read her testament yourself.” We watched two of the Knightsguard carry over a small, spindly hawthorn tree, tip it into the pile of dirt above Esme, then heap sodden soil around the roots.
“Just because those were her last wishes, doesn’t make this any less barbaric.” For the first time since I’d woken up, emotion swelled to a heart-wrenching crescendo, then faded away, leaving me wallowing in this endless numbness.
“It’s our custom to burn our dead, and I don’t understand why she chose this way, is all.”
“Esme was from another time and place, Ash.” Finn narrowed his gaze at a preening Lord and Lady Darkmore on the other side of the grave. “Perhaps her customs are not our own.”
“Perhaps.” I sighed, not able to shake this sense of wrongness.
Finn scanned our surroundings, the wrecked castle, the tiny grave with the tender sapling planted in the center of the mound of earth. No grave marker because Esme hadn’t wanted one of those, either. This was a horrible place to be laid to rest, if there was such a thing.
Horrible and wretched, and I wanted to double over and scream at the world until I couldn’t breathe.
Wanted to force Magnis to reveal himself to me so I could burn him from the inside out until there was nothing left but a pile of charred bones.
But in the end, I let Finn materialize me back to the safety of Locke House, where I curled up in a strange bed, still sopping wet, pulled the covers over my head, and wished for all this misery to fucking end.
2
ROWAN FORGE
“Once we’re inside, let me do the talking and don’t fuck this up,” Nikolai muttered behind me.
I bit back my retort, nursing the still-bleeding claw marks on my chest as we navigated the narrow bridge leading to a castle crafted from darkness itself. I barely stayed balanced on the slippery moss-coated stone, the surface hardly the width of my boot.
I didn’t know what realm this was, but it wasn’t ours.
All that told me was how desperate Nikolai was to have come to such a place looking for help.
And desperation was a dangerous thing.
We’d barely survived the gauntlet of a forest filled with enormous, dog-like creatures. We’d left them bleeding out behind us, but they’d had enough venom in their claws to kill a pack of Wolver, and now I was using all my magic to counteract the poison flooding my bloodstream when I should have been concentrating on not plunging to my death into the chasm below.
Nikolai was even more battered than me, having taken the brunt of the attack, yellowish froth dripping from the edges of his seeping wounds.
If I gave a shite about his survival, I’d use my magic to heal him, but right now I didn’t care if the bastard dropped dead.
Or off the side of this ridiculously narrow bridge.
I glanced below us at the dark water eddying with the currents of whatever creatures lurked there. Sinuous, dark forms writhed beneath the murky surface, but I imagined their teeth were every bit as savage as the other monsters that guarded this place.
Wherever we were.
The lair of three ancient witches, according to Nikolai, though he hadn’t been able to elaborate before we’d been attacked.
“With luck, I’ll be able to convince them to help us.” Nikolai’s white lips were barely moving. “You kept your word and defeated Acheron; I’ll do everything in my power to get Darrow back.”
When we reached the end of the interminable bridge, Nikolai paused before two enormous doors, the dark castle towering so high above us, I craned my neck to glimpse the top of the jutting spires which disappeared into the clouds.
“I must warn you time moves differently in this place than in the outside world. We must be fast about this.” I waited for him to explain, but he only muttered something about witches and their tricks.
I thought he’d use magic, speak some arcane spell to gain us entry, but Nikolai pounded on the doors with bloodied fists. “Fucking let us in, Sabine. You’ve had your fun.” Animalistic rage lined every word, the wood caving in beneath his assault.
“Your sister lives here?”
He stepped back and slid me a look of distaste. “Her and two of her kind.”
Witches, he’d said earlier. One born of this world. And two that are not.
The bastard failed to mention one of them was his fucking sister.
“What are you playing at, Nikolai?” I hissed. I was only here because he’d sworn this was the only way to retrieve Darrow from the Elders’ hidden island, and if I’d had any other options, I would have used every single one of them up before trusting this bastard again.
“For this to work, we have to get onto that island unseen. For that, we need powerful allies.”
“But we already have…”
He looked at me sideways. “Allies stronger than Seraphina and Deston de Rayne. Stronger than anything born of this earth. Magnis has mutated his magic into something unnatural, which means we need to find unnatural creatures to help defeat him.”
Definitely a different realm. At the far end of the narrow bridge, the dark forms paced back and forth, creatures we’d have to fight our way through if we were forced to retreat. The dense mist seeping up from the chasm stank of sulfur, moisture coating everything with a shiny gloss.
I’d followed Nikolai through a bewildering maze of time rifts to get here, not questioning his methods, focused only on retrieving Darrow. I’d been too enraged by the sight of my mate lying in bed, unable to move or speak. Completely helpless.
I hadn’t asked many questions before we’d left. None, in fact.
“Where are we?”
“Cyperus,” Nikolai muttered, taking a step back. “The Castle of the Fates. And if my sister doesn’t answer me soon, I’ll…”
“You’ll do what, exactly, Prince Isenburg?”
We turned to find a barefoot Sabine balanced gracefully on the bridge behind us, wearing a long purple ball gown and a tiara, her arms crossed, one of those hideous creatures at her back with saliva frothing at its mouth.
“You know the rules, Nik.” Sabine’s pale brown eyes raked me over with distaste. “No outsiders. Now you’ve ruined our party, and my sisters are upset. They voted to let the Sentinels rip you both apart while we go back to eating our cake.”
“But you’re not going to do that.” I wasn’t leaving without some answers—most importantly, how to get onto that fucking island. Besides, my injuries were still healing and my magic had to replenish before we attempted to fight our way through that forest again. “You’re opening these doors and letting us inside so we can talk.”
“Eventually, I might do that.” Sabine never took her eyes off me, and for one tense second we engaged in a battle of wills. “Do you even know what this place is, King?”
“Not exactly,” I admitted, keeping my feet firmly planted. “But I owe you a boon for saving my mate.” I dipped my head to the witch, the back of my neck prickling as if someone observed from overhead.
“Thank you for saving Ash. She means everything to me. I’ve lost her once; I couldn’t endure losing her again.”
During our nauseatingly long lessons, Brendan always counseled honesty and giving credit where credit was due. In this case, transparency was worth a try, because if not for Sabine…I sucked in a shuddering breath. Not going there.
“I was remiss the last time we met, Sabine, and for that, I apologize. I owe you everything.”
Sabine’s eyes flared in surprise, while Nikolai muttered a low curse about showing our hand too soon. Fuck that bastard. I’d wear my heart on my sleeve for my mate, and he’d never truly love Ash, not like I did.
While I didn’t know what game he was playing, he needed me.
We needed each other right now, I supposed, though the idea left a foul taste in my mouth.
“Why are you here?” Nikolai went to answer, and she jabbed him in the side, the move so utterly immature, I blinked in surprise. “Not you, brother. I’m asking the king. Why did you come?”
“Magnis took my friend hostage. We need your help getting him off that island.” I ignored Nikolai’s hiss for me to keep quiet.
Sabine, though, went pale, her frightened eyes flicking to her brother.
“I don’t have much to offer you,” I admitted, shame flooding through me as I listed all my failings. “My kingdom lies in ruins; my people are scattered across the globe. But I don’t care about the throne or power. My family is all that matters and Magnis took my oldest friend. I fucking want him back.”
Nikolai cursed softly, but Sabine’s expression changed, her face beaming as the great doors swung open and the drooling creature—a Sentinel, she’d called it—loped into the mists to await his next meal. “There, see? That’s how it’s done, Nik. You’ve spent far too long spinning lies and plots, when the only thing that opens those doors is the truth.”
Her gaze turned wicked. “Welcome to my home, King Rowan. Not so long ago, you threw me out of yours, but perhaps I’ll allow you to beg on your knees before I toss you out of mine.”
When she hooked elbows with her brother, I had no choice but to follow.
3
AISLING
“You should let Zell heal this, Ash.” Finn carefully prodded the circular scar on the top of my hand. “She didn’t have enough magic that night to erase the mark, but she should now.” He spoke so carefully around me these days. As if he was afraid I’d snap in half.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I needed to feel something in order to break.
