Darkfell Vampire Clan Boxset, page 64
Wait, he was my father. Did that mean I had to tell him since we were family?
To Sebastian’s credit, he only sighed.
“Then that was a lucky thing. It sounds like another few minutes, and we’d be looking for an exorcist.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He fixed me with a look that said, No, I am really not.
“Well, the wraith didn’t possess me, and instead of discussing this ad nauseam, we should be out there, hunting him down.”
I nodded to Sebastian’s weapon. “Would your unholy sword work on it? The book said they can be killed by silver. That's silver, right?”
“What book is this?” His mouth quirked.
“The book in my absolutely gorgeous library that I just discovered in the west wing.”
He scoffed. “We abandoned that wing centuries ago. Viktor never opened it up after we sealed it off.”
“I thought the air smelled old.” I grinned at the look on his face. “Trust me, there’s a library. It’s fabulous, and it’s mine.”
“Regardless, it was unwise of you to engage the wraith. Had de Rayne not interfered when he did, this would've turned out badly.”
“It’s not all bad,” I told him. “I made a few discoveries.”
The entire table went silent, probably debating whether I should be locked in a room for the rest of my life. “I figured…Since I set the wraith free, it owed me.”
Cyrus’s anger rippled down the bond, and Luthor? Well, Luthor just looked resigned.
“I believe the wraith can cure Caden.” I hesitated, wondering why every solution seemed to have a catch. “Once he has a body.”
Again, I thought how neatly this problem could be solved if I gave Katarina to it. But she was across the ocean, and that was a bad idea. Definitely a bad idea.
The way they all looked at me, I felt like my skin was on too tight.
Sebastian looked over my head at Luthor and Cyrus. “Frankly, I cannot fathom why you thought it prudent to converse with a wraith.”
“I didn’t think it prudent. I saw an opportunity, and I took advantage of it,” I said stiffly. “I thought quickly on my feet and tried to get a cure for Caden. I wasn’t successful, but now we know there is a cure.”
“You didn’t know the risks, Seraphina. You engaged a dangerous, otherworldly creature and allowed it to get close enough to touch you.” Sebastian sighed with all the disappointment of an actual parent. Gram would have been proud. “On another note, we’re sealing the dungeons today. I wondered if you might wish to attend?”
“You wondered correctly. While I’d love to see that hellhole get concreted over, I’ll settle for having it sealed off.”
14
SERAPHINA
While waiting for Marie to arrive for said sealing-off, Luthor decided to make one final sweep.
“I'll go with you,” I offered. I knew Luthor had to take one last look at the place that had been his personal hell for a hundred years—to have some closure. I wouldn’t let him do that alone.
“Oh, no. You’re staying here, Seraphina. I once swore you’d never set foot in there again, and now it’s becoming an everyday event. No more.”
I wound my fingers through his. “Yet here I am, going in anyway.”
His face tightened while he weighed the chances of winning this argument.
“I can make this an official order if that would make you feel better,” I said sweetly, not letting go of his hand.
“Fine.” The word sounded thin through gritted teeth. “Why do you always make everything so damn difficult?”
“Just my nature, I guess,” I said agreeably. He was still pissed about last night, doubly pissed that a wraith had penetrated his defenses. Failure scared him, and I had to reassure him that he hadn’t failed at all.
We walked down the long, white hallway, through the ransacked guard station, not stopping until we reached the first floor of cells where we’d been kept prisoner. Luthor let me go and gripped the bars on his old cell, staring into the empty cubicle.
It still stank of dried blood and urine, exactly like it had that first night when I thought I'd been captured by sex traffickers, only to discover my fate was far different.
“There are nights…” Luthor's whisper dug into my soul with hooked claws. “I dream you didn't end up in the cell next to me. That I didn't realize who you were until it was too late. That I couldn't save you.”
I tighten my hand around his.
“But you did,” I reminded him firmly. “You were beside me then, like you are right now, and will be, every day of our lives. Don’t borrow trouble, remember?”
I leaned hard into him, drinking in his strength. “I have plenty of regrets in my life, Luthor, but ending up here is not one of them.”
“And what of Deston?” Luthor asked softly. “What about that ending?”
“I have to hope he’ll find his way back to me. That he can figure out a way to break the soul-bond,” I told him just as softly, praying in my heart that was true.
“He's… We talk in our dreams, sometimes, and he’s in a terrible place, Luthor.” I couldn't help the way my palm slicked with sweat. “He's always bleeding, clawed up.” My words grew quieter and quieter. “But as bad as things are, he refuses my help.”
I sighed and my breath turned to fog. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Ah,” Luthor said. “I wondered where you went in your dreams. There are times I can't reach you, don't know where you went.” He pulled me against him and buried his face in my hair. “I can’t protect you, Seraphina, if you don’t let me in.”
I hugged him back.
“That’s all I want. My job is to keep you safe. And it’s a full-time one, these days.” His chuckle rumbled beneath my cheek. “To tell you the truth, I’ve spent the past month waiting for the order to go to Romania and spring your mate.”
“I wasn’t keeping secrets, Luthor. I never know if the dreams are real or just dreams.” I went quiet, squeezing myself into him. His arms wrapped around my back and held me tighter.
“There’s a reason I haven’t gone after him.” I let myself relax against him. “But it’s too awful to talk about.”
We were both quiet until Luthor whispered, “Something’s wrong with me. And I don’t know what.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Luthor, you’re just under so much stress…”
“I have too much anger inside me to control,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t understand where it’s coming from or why. I almost killed Cyrus last night. I had to walk away from him just now, so I didn’t finish what I started.”
“Why?” I tried to get a fix on Luthor’s emotions, but they were all over the place. He was filled with rage and an uncontrollable need for violence that was exactly opposite from the male I loved. Luthor was fraught, and his internal struggle shook him.
“Cy was supposed to keep you safe. He failed.”
“He didn’t fail,” I countered, trying to see this from Luthor’s point of view. “He obeyed my command. I told him I’d banish him if he didn’t.” I drew in a shallow breath of putrid air. “You have to give him some leeway. We’re still figuring out our relationship. There are bound to be missteps.”
He thought it over. “I will endeavor to control my anger when I am around Cyrus.” He added, “Unless he puts you in danger again.”
I sighed. “Look, of all the ways my life could have played out, finding you and Cyrus is the best ending I could've dreamed of. We chose each other, remember? If I ever get Deston back, things will be perfect.” Except I had a niggling fear that this unexplained anger Luthor was experiencing was a symptom of something deeper.
Darker.
I stepped away from Luthor and gripped the cell’s bars with both hands. “God, I was so scared that night they caught me. Remember that ridiculous claim I made about the guards?”
“You said you’d fight when they took you. And you wouldn’t go quietly. That was the moment I first loved you.” He touched his hand to my shoulder, then tugged me back into his arms. “And I’ve loved you ever since.”
I closed my eyes.
“Deston warned me if I came to Romania, he’d kill himself. He’s not strong enough to break Katarina’s bond, or he’d be back already. And that absurd threat of his—whether hollow or not—is stopping me.”
“You’ve fought since the night I met you. I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard for what she believes in than you, Seraphina.”
I had to squeeze my eyes tighter so the tears gathering wouldn’t fall.
“We will go to Romania.” Luthor’s words shocked my aching heart into beating again. “We will get de Rayne back, and then we will decide how to make this work between the four of us.”
I burst into tears. It just figured, I’d come in here to comfort Luthor, and he ended up giving me more hope than I’d had in a month.
“Agreed?”
“Hell, yes.” I sniffed.
“Let’s go get my mate back and show Katarina she made a mistake when she took what’s mine.”
15
SERAPHINA
Unfortunately, some prep work was required before we could go to war.
Which was how we ended up back at Ravenswood in the middle of the swamp.
“I cannot believe we’re back at this bloody place,” Cyrus complained softly. His face was completely healed, but there was a chilliness between them, despite Luthor’s assurances.
Not only was the tension between them thick enough to cut, neither of them was speaking to the other, which put me in the unenviable position of playing translator.
It had only been a couple hours, and I was already tired of this bullshit.
The wards barely left a tingle on my skin as we passed through. Deston was weakening. Was it from the abuse he was enduring? Or because he was so far away? If I knew more about how magic worked, maybe I'd know the answer, instead of obsessing over a million different possibilities.
The castle still stood, but the gardens had long since withered and died.
Still, when we passed through the walled garden, I snapped off a dead bloom. Cursing my sentimentality, I stuck it in my old backpack and tried not to think back to when those roses were dark red and heavily scented. To when Deston and I shared a moment here. When we were still enemies and not quite lovers.
“What are we looking for?” I asked Cyrus, just to get my mind off things that I couldn't do anything about. He held out a hand to stop me, then shouldered through the front doors before waving me inside.
This place used to feel like home.
Now it felt like a grave.
“If I know Deston, he's left us something behind. A clue, a key, a map.” His voice rung hollowly in the near-dark as we made our way into the castle. “A safe passage into Katarina's castle.”
“We know where it is. We've already mapped out the closest towns and every single road,” I pointed out. “What difference does it make how we get there?”
“Getting in unseen or, at least, making it as far as we can without her knowing we’re coming, will be integral to our success,” Luthor cut in stiffly. “This won’t be easy. There’s the terrain to consider. Guards. Her magic guards every inch of that mountain, not to mention we just dumped about two hundred dangerous creatures on that mountain. I expect we’ll run into a few of them.”
“So basically, my little revenge scheme just made everything harder?”
“The relocated creatures will add an extra layer of complications,” Luthor said diplomatically.
“Great.” I’d wanted to thumb my nose at Katarina. This was the price of petty revenge.
“Hang on.” I slipped into the library, found the signed copy of Dracula and Deston’s dog-eared copy of Cymbeline, and slid them into my backpack before catching back up to Cyrus and Luthor.
Deston’s once-beautiful castle was still in a state of destruction from Viktor's invasion. Ash was piled in the corners from where I'd killed the revenants. The wall Deston had built to conceal us still stood but was filmy, a wavy illusion.
I tried not to think of the velvet-covered bed just one floor above us.
Tried not to think of the precious hour we’d spent there. As much as I’d like to bury my face in those covers and smell him, we were here to figure out how to get Deston back, not wallow around in old memories.
Ask Cyrus where his cousin kept his office. Even though I rolled my eyes, I repeated the question, just to keep this show running. But this mediator stuff would get really old, really quick.
“Cyrus says he expects it’s down past the library and the room with all the paintings. If not there, maybe it’s connected to his bedroom.”
As it turned out, Deston had two offices. One for show and one for real.
Deston’s office—the real one—was nothing like his carefully curated outer office. The small space was suffocatingly dusty, where every flat surface was piled high with layers of papers and books. I leafed through the closest pile. It was a hodgepodge of half-read books, old magazine cuttings, and maps. Bingo.
“Dive in,” Luthor ordered. “We’re on a tight schedule.”
He took the main desk, and Cyrus prowled the perimeter, searching the overburdened shelves, Luthor baring his fangs whenever he got too close.
“Has anyone come up with anything yet?” I tossed the last map onto the pile. The maps were a dead-end. They were mostly of France, one of them mapping out the catacombs under the Paris streets.
“I’ll go and search the library,” I finally grumbled, heading for the door. “It’ll be more productive than watching this alpha-male bullshit.”
“I'll go with you,” Cyrus volunteered eagerly, even though he was half of the alpha-male-bullshit pair. “No telling how safe the castle is, now that Deston’s wards are failing.”
“Why are you and Luthor fighting?” I skirted a pile of ashed revenant on our way. “And don't tell me you were arguing over me because that will only piss me off.”
“Not you, per se, but rather my many failings as your guard.”
“But you've never failed me, Cyrus, not once. I already told Luthor…”
“No,” he cut me off gruffly. “This is between Luthor and me. We’ll settle it ourselves.”
“In the meantime, you two are putting me smack dab between you. I hate this. I hate that you're not speaking to each other. I hate that you fought.” But mostly, I hated that our triad was fracturing apart, and I didn’t know why.
“We’re simply having a difference of opinion at the moment.” But the way Cyrus said it, I knew this rift went deeper.
“What are you two fighting over?” I hesitated in the library doorway, looking at the sheer number of volumes. This would take forever.
“We’re… Look, apparently I’m doing a shit job at keeping you safe.” Cyrus’s voice went rough, like when his neck was still scarred. “Luthor’s an unreasonable jackass about it.”
I sighed. “I’ll talk to him. You know Luthor. Everything he does is about ensuring my safety. And I'm the worst possible person for you to keep safe since I never listen and can’t follow the rules.”
“Which was exactly my point.”
I started at Shakespeare, running my fingers over priceless tomes.
“How will you ever learn anything if we keep you caged up? I realize there's a fine line between protection and smothering, but Luthor doesn't.”
“That's because Luthor takes on all the responsibility.” I shot Cyrus an inquiring look. “Come on, this is just temporary, right? You’ve had fights like this before?”
“Sure,” Cyrus agreed softly, his voice dull. “We’ve fought before.” He threw himself into one of the old leather chairs.
I held in my sigh and focused on the books in front of me. Every one of them was in perfect condition, even though they were ancient. Deston did like nice things.
In fact, that disheveled office was the antithesis of Deston.
My mate was always immaculately dressed, his manners perfect if arrogantly condescending. Hell, even his gardens were perfect to the point of obsession.
But that room was as far away from immaculate as you could get. If I didn’t know any better, I'd say that office was a diversion.
“Something about that office doesn't feel right.”
Cyrus leaned forward, ready to spring to his feet. “You mean the magic or the room or there's something wrong in there?”
“No, none of that. It’s just, that's not the way Deston operates. He likes everything perfect. He's meticulous and neat, and I don't see him being comfortable in all that clutter. Not long enough to work, anyway.”
“I didn't know that you knew him that well,” Cyrus said stiffly. “I guess I was wrong.”
I shot him a sideways glance, took in his narrowed eyes, filled with resentment. “Are you jealous of your cousin?” I shook my head in disbelief. “You were never jealous before. Ever.”
“When it comes to you, I guess I am.” He shrugged. “The more I think about the three of us, the more I have reservations, including Deston.”
“He’s my mate, Cyrus,” I said quietly, heading to the opposite side. “When we discussed this before, we all agreed to try. It's not like I can just give him up. You understand that, right?”
“Logically, I understand.” He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. Or his courage. “But every time I think about Deston—or Luthor, for that matter—my body tells me that you belong to me.” He shrugged again. “I’m not even sure why, but it’s getting harder to override that instinct.”
Was that why they were acting like this? Jealousy?
Between Luthor and Cyrus, Luthor was the one I thought would have a serious problem with including Deston. I had to admit, Cyrus’s admission threw me for a loop. He'd always been easy going—especially when it came to sex—and I never thought he'd have an issue.
