CHAPTER 38 RAGNOR
CHAPTER 38
RAGNOR
The office was in utter disarray.
“My Lord!” Ragnor’s head secretary, Dominic, jumped to his feet the moment Ragnor set foot inside the reception area of his office, watching as the other three secretaries were battling to answer the many incoming phone calls. “You have to take this!”
Dominic shoved a piece of paper into Ragnor’s hands. Ragnor stared at it and saw it was an official-looking letter with the logo of the Atalon League at the top. Grimacing, Ragnor started reading.
Dear Lord Ragnor Rayne,
I am writing to bring to your immediate attention a matter of grave importance concerning the unauthorized possession of a member associated with my League, hereinafter referred to as the “League.” It has come to my attention that you are currently in unapproved possession of the aforementioned League member.
By this notice, I hereby demand that you promptly return the League member in question to me on or before the date of February 28, failing which, legal action will be pursued against you in accordance with the relevant legal provisions.
You are hereby advised that your failure to comply with this demand and return the League member will result in legal action being initiated against you under the pertinent provisions outlined in Article 3.5 of the applicable regulations. It is presumed that you are cognizant of the implications and consequences associated with such legal action.
This notice is issued in an earnest effort to afford you an opportunity to rectify the situation amicably before resorting to formal legal proceedings. It is strongly advised that you promptly take the necessary steps to ensure compliance with this demand and prevent further legal action.
Your immediate attention to this matter is expected.
Sincerely,
Lord Orion Atalon
Ragnor had expected it, and yet the letter made him far too pissed to be able to think straight.
“Dominic,” he said now, looking at his head secretary, whose worry was etched so deep in his face, he looked as though he’d aged ten years. “Please schedule a meeting for the Lieutenants and all Troop Commanders to take place in my office tonight. Once you do that, send the original email to my direct inbox and cc legal. I’ll respond myself.”
He paused, then said, “Also, schedule emergency calls with all North American Lords to be taken throughout the day. And, of course, cancel the upcoming Auction.”
Dominic took a step back, eyes wide. After being his secretary for two centuries, Dominic knew what all this meant, and Ragnor knew he didn’t like it. None of it. “My Lord,” he whispered, “why?”
“Why else?” Ragnor replied, eyes flashing. “You know what this legal notice means, Dominic. You also know what Atalon is like. The true meaning behind this letter is clear.”
Dominic’s auburn hair fell over his shoulders as his head dropped. “But you can simply return that girl,” he murmured. “There’s no need to—”
“That woman is not going anywhere.” Ragnor cut him off, warning in his voice. “Even if it means war.”
Soon after, Ragnor abandoned the chaos in his office and left the underground, heading to the League-owned pub. The moment he stepped inside, Moses handed him his favorite J?germeister wordlessly. Based on his grave expression, Ragnor knew he was aware of what was going on. When he wasn’t bartending, Moses was part of his intelligence team, after all.
Holding the drink, Ragnor sat down at his usual table. Moments later, Eliza walked through the door and took the seat across from him, not bothering to order a drink. Moses, who’d already acquainted himself with her, knew what she liked, though, and brought her a gin and tonic shot.
It had been a while since Ragnor had seen Eliza. The last time they’d spoken hadn’t been very cordial. In fact, after that conversation, Eliza had promptly left his town house, choosing to stay in a rental in the city instead.
But Eliza was the one who’d called him, and Ragnor knew she wouldn’t have done so without good reason.
Now, Eliza turned her single eye to him, and instead of a greeting, she hissed, “What the hell were you thinking?”
“So you heard,” he said, unsurprised. Eliza knew how to gather information almost as well as he did, though her methods were far more unconventional.
“Who didn’t hear of you declaring war on Atalon?” she snapped quietly. “Are you seriously going to do this? I know you have ... feelings ... for Aileen Henderson, but that’s—”
“It’s beyond just my feelings for her, and you know it.” Ragnor cut her off, anger in his voice. “Atalon has been biding his time to find a proper excuse to go against me. He acted all friendly and nice, but he was sharpening his claws behind the scenes. This is his opportunity to get back at me for all the alleged things I did to him.”
Eliza scowled. “This is a fucking mess, Rayne,” she whispered loudly. “You’re going to war for a Child of Kahil. I can’t support this.”
Ragnor sipped his drink before he responded. “What you’re worried about won’t come to pass, Eliza.”
Her eye glowered at him. “After centuries of peace, the Jinn are suddenly on the move,” she said, voice tight. “A Child of Kahil has accidentally become a vampire and turned Sacred overnight. The Malachi have started meddling in earth’s affairs. Don’t you see what it boils down to?”
She was right. Ragnor knew that, but still—“A war between two vampiric factions should not lead to anything that would concern the Malachi. This is not the same as before.”
Eliza slapped the table in fury. “If the Morrow Gods are resurrected, Ragnor, I swear to whatever divine being is up there, I will kill Aileen Henderson with my own hands. And then we’ll see if that’s something the Malachi will be concerned about.”
Ragnor’s hackles rose. “You won’t touch a hair on her head, Eliza,” he said quietly, eyes brightening to neon blue. “I won’t let you. As for the Malachi, let me worry about that.”
She closed her eye and let out a ragged breath. “I was born to do one thing only, Ragnor,” she suddenly said. “Being on good terms with you is only a small part of it. But if I have to clash with you head-on to fulfill my goal, then I won’t hesitate to do so.” She opened her eye and gave him a deadly serious look. “The Children of Kahil aren’t just your enemy but mine too. You may be blinded by love or lust or whatever this is, but I’m not. The existence of Aileen Henderson to begin with shouldn’t have happened. Her being a vampire is the worst-case scenario. Her becoming Sacred isn’t just a coincidence; it’s an omen. A bad one. If the Morrow Gods are resurrected because of this war of yours, it won’t just destroy the world. And if Esheer, the Realm of Fire, bursts open ...” She sucked in a breath. “I implore you, Ragnor. Call this war off. Settle your dispute with Atalon some other way that doesn’t include bloodshed. I do not want to make you an enemy.”
Ragnor knew she spoke the truth. He’d known Eliza for a long time, after all. He knew she meant every word.
But calling this war off wasn’t a possibility. As much as Atalon had been biding his time, so had Ragnor. He had as big of a grudge against Atalon as Atalon had with him. This had been a long time coming, with or without Aileen’s involvement. And there was only one way to resolve a dispute between Leagues once and for all.
And that was the Hecatomb.
He thought of Aileen then. He could never send her back to Atalon even if he wanted to, and no matter what he did, Atalon wouldn’t let it go. He would accuse him of tricking him again, like that one time many centuries ago. He would not listen to reason. In fact, Ragnor had a hunch that even if he sent Aileen back to Atalon, he would use her to wage a war on him anyway.
“I’m afraid there is no way around this, Eliza,” he said quietly. “One way or another, Atalon and I were bound to go to war. It’s not even about Aileen at this point but rather about the grudge he has against me.”
Eliza deflated. “And you are so arrogant that you poked the bear. We could have avoided this for years more. You know how he is. He’s a proud man. Maybe even just as arrogant as you. But you should have known better. I’m so mad at you, Ragnor,” she said weakly. “Why did you give her the Imprint? Why couldn’t you just kill her?”
Before he developed feelings for her, Ragnor had asked himself the same question. Back then, he didn’t know the answer. He knew only that at that exact moment, he couldn’t bring himself to snap her neck. He’d been under a trance, needing to give her the Imprint, to make her his.
And just like that, for the first time since he’d met Aileen Henderson, Ragnor came to a blinding realization of what she was to him. And that realization made him put down the whiskey glass and lean back, an unfathomable wonder blooming in his gut.
This can’t be, he thought, dazed. There is only ever one, and I found mine many ages ago.
Ragnor couldn’t speak. The epiphany stole all his words away.
Eliza stared at him, and as though she sensed something strange was going on, she suddenly sat straight, her eye widening. Before he could resist, she grabbed his hand, her own hand cold.
The eye patch covering her left eye was suddenly glowing. Ragnor couldn’t bring himself to be mad that she was using her powers on him. In fact, it was almost satisfying to see her jerk her hand back, her breathing turning heavy and shivery. “No,” she whispered, her eye impossibly wide.
All Ragnor could do was smile. It was a true, deep smile that came from the heart. Suddenly, he could no longer sit still. He had to find Aileen. He had to take her in his arms. He had to have her, the need so strong, it was almost debilitating.
Because Aileen Henderson was his Alara Morreh.
The one he never thought he would ever have again.