33. Cormac
Cormac
M y scream echoed around me as the silver dagger left my heart, and I returned to consciousness. With the blade gone, my mind returned at once, but it would take my body some time to heal. My breaths came in short, hard gasps. Each beat of my heart sent a searing pulse through my body, a fiery reminder of the damage wrought. The pain as the muscle repaired brought tears to my eyes. But at least it hadn’t been wood. But that meant whoever took me wanted me alive.
There was no way of knowing how many days, months, or even years I had lain unconscious. My stomach twisted into a knot. Was Aurora even still alive? Or had whoever taken me killed her? I needed to find out, and fast. I didn’t recognize the vampire standing above me, but he was young. His face was pale and thin, as though he were malnourished, and the tendons of his hands stood out like white cords as he gripped the dagger hilt.
Why had vampires attacked the coven in the middle of a spell? Whoever had sent them was either very reckless or very confident. My healing heart clenched, hopeful my speculation was mistaken. Only one vampire would ever be that confident—that uncaring about sending others into a deadly fight. My blood ran cold. And if Rory was still alive, she was in more danger than ever.
The vampire sheathed the silver dagger and stalked from the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him. I gritted my teeth together and, through the pain, pulled myself up to sitting. My eyes flitted around the room. The high ceilings captured the muggy heat that seeped in through the large leaded glass windows. Dust motes swirled in the faint shafts of sunlight that seeped in around the closed plantation shutters, their lazy dance a stark contrast to the tension rising in my chest.
In the corner of the muted gray room, my room , stood a fireplace, its mantel of decorative Italian marble reflecting a time from long ago. A crystal glass filled with a dark crimson liquid sat on the mantel as the only decor. My phone, sitting next to me on the nightstand, gave off a faint light, the charging cable snaking into the wall. I turned it on and breathed a sigh of relief that only days had passed. But in those days, there was not a single call from Rory. Was she hurt? I had to get back to Oak Leaf Hallow, back to her.
I swung my legs off the side of the four-poster bed and tested my balance on them. The pain in my chest receded, which only made the pain in my head more evident. I couldn’t be sure if that pain was from a lack of blood or the remnants of Amara’s magic. Amara. Had Amara lived? If she hadn’t… Rory.
I walked to the fireplace and steadied myself against the mantel before taking the glass. I brought it to my nose, inhaling the air across the top. Detecting nothing amiss with the fragrance of the fresh blood, I sipped, each drop crossing my tongue causing a cautious exploration. It had a slight metallic taste to it, heightened by the fact it was somewhat cool. But my entire body tingled as the life-giving force rolled down my throat.
I strolled to the armoire and opened it, curious if hospitality remained the primary rule of the house. As I expected, the latest black Italian suits in my size hung inside, and beside them, the finest of silk shirts. I shook my head and selected my clothing with a clenched jaw. It wouldn’t do to go out looking like I did right now. That he was following my mother’s rule told me everything I needed to know. He wanted his family beside him. That would never happen, even if I didn’t need to get back to Rory.
Dressed, I made my way down the central staircase, following the sounds of dinner that floated toward me from the dining room. The last time I had been here was just before we returned to Ireland in the late 1870s. I wanted to be happy to be in this home again, nostalgic of the time when Declan entered our family, but nothing could shake the tightness in my chest that constricted my breathing.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the front door. What would stop me from just walking out? I knew that answer, as well as I knew I would not die today. I needed to see my captor as much as he wanted me at his side. Turning left, I walked the few steps to the double pocket doors and threw them into their resting place in the walls.
The dining room opened in front of me. The brilliant blue walls hadn’t changed, broken up with white wainscotting and enormous leaded glass windows. The tightly closed white plantation shutters blocked out all the light here as well. Not everyone in this house was a day walker. To the left, French doors opened to the veranda at the rear of the house and the gardens, whatever remained of them. The covered porch kept the sun at bay.
The chandelier, replaced over time, threw a brilliant electric light across the long oak table. Humans dressed to the nines stood by the walls, compelled. The women’s dresses left little to the imagination. I didn’t have to ask why they stood there, but still, my stomach twisted, repulsed, as a young blond vampire snapped his fingers at a redhead who walked toward him without a care in the world, throwing her hair back and baring her neck in preparation.
“Brother, how lovely of you to join us. We saved you a seat.” The confidence of the words was forced, and the joyfulness grated on my soul. He needed me alive. I was still his brother, still part of the legacy he so desperately clung to. My eyes turned toward him, sitting in Father’s seat at the head of the table. Of course he would be. Anger rose in my chest at the indignation of what had become of our Charleston home. The sight of him, smug and sprawling in Father’s place, ignited a fire of resentment that I struggled to restrain.
Aiden’s smile on his round face was so angelic I wanted to slap it from him and ask what he thought he was doing. But he would not care one bit if I did. I pulled my shoulders back, striding through the dining room to the empty seat on his right, smelling the stench of wolf as I did.
Declan, sitting to Aiden’s left, kept his gaze locked on the table. A wise move. I knew this was how it would be. As far as Aiden was aware, I hadn’t spoken to either of them since he ran from Dún Na Farraige in 1925 without a word.
“Well, brother, if you wanted to see me, you could have just invited me to dinner,” I said as I sat at the table. I relaxed back in the chair and straightened my jacket, feigning nonchalance, though every muscle in my body tensed.
“As though you would have RSVP’d. Besides, you always were one to underestimate me. Did you really think I wouldn’t have been watching you?” His sneer deepened, a flash of teeth punctuating the venom in his words. He leaned back in Father’s chair, one hand swirling the wine in his glass, the other toying with the blade beside his plate.
I reached across the table and helped myself to some bread. “It really didn’t matter if you did. But I guess I have you to thank for the dead body I cleaned up the other day?”
“Just wanting to get my point across.” He smiled over the rim of his glass as he took a sip, his eyes darkening.
“And what point was that, brother?” I placed a roll on my plate, careful not to allow any anger to show. I tore a piece off and savored it as it melted on my tongue.
“That you could end up that way too,” he said, stabbing the roast next to him, taking a piece and passing it to me. He took a bite of it. “Ugh, this needs more flavor.”
He glanced around. “You.” He pointed at a brunette who waltzed to his side. “My steak needs flavor. My brother’s as well.” He pointed at the slice of roast I just placed on my plate.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Without another word, she picked up the knife that lay beside him and ran it across her wrist. Blood flowed from the wound over the roast. “Enough,” he said, as though this treatment of humans were perfectly normal. My stomach tightened. “My brother’s now.”
“No, thank you.” I held my hand over the plate. I glared at my brother, his dominance over these creatures a ridiculous show of power. “Do you plan to just let her bleed out?”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and glanced at the blood gathering beneath her. “Mother’s rug?”
“Fine.” He looked at the vampire next to Declan. “Jeremiah, get Rachel cleaned up and make sure she doesn’t perish.”
“Yes, sire,” said the vampire I assumed was Jeremiah as he jumped from his seat.
“Thank you, brother,” I said.
“Anything for you,” he sneered.
His confidence unsettled me; he was more in control of his faculties than I understood from Declan. I tore off another piece of bread, chewing deliberately, not allowing Aiden to see any concern. I caught Declan’s eyes as they flitted about the room.
Aiden wouldn’t kill me—he needed me, which was why he brought me here. The O’Cillians were always strongest as a family. But I didn’t have time for his games. Aurora was out there somewhere, and every second here kept me from her. “As for your earlier threat, let’s be clear. You won’t kill me, nor will you try. If you were going to, you would have just done it. So what is the game you are playing at?”
“Oh, this is no game, brother. Welcome to the new age, where wolf and vampire unite. The age that you can be a part of—if you remove the stick from your ass. Just what you want, to be at my side, reunited as a family.”
“Is wolf what that insipid smell is? I had hoped that you would find some better friends after all this time.” I took a bite of my roast, noting a hidden smile on Declan’s face as I did. At least one of us was getting joy out of this. Somewhere to my right, the wolf I just insulted growled low in his throat.
“Now, now. Remember that I am in charge of this city.” He glanced down the table at his guests. “This is simply the beginning, the Council of Charleston. We’ll only grow from here.” His lips curled in a soft, calm smile as though I had already agreed to join him.
“You’ll do no such thing,” I said firmly, poking at the food on my plate.
His face fell as he leaned forward toward me. “And who is going to stop me, Cormac? Will it be you? Or the Cure?”
The mention of the Cure twisted in my chest. If Aiden found him first, everything would be lost—my family would be gone forever.
I whipped my gaze toward him, but it was too much, too fast, too telling.
“Oh yes, I’m aware of the Cure and that you and your little witch friend you are shacking up with are trying to find him. I promise you I will find him first. Or maybe I’ll just go after her. Mother never was a fan of the Coven of the Blood.” His voice dropped low into a hiss. “It would be a shame if the witches paid the price for your little rebellion.”
I forced the muscles in my face to freeze. If I let him see my feelings for Aurora, she would be in even worse danger. “So it is to be a race to find the Cure, then?” I raised the glass of wine at my plate, holding it out to him to make a toast. “May the best man win.” I tilted my head and smirked, taking a drink while Aiden sat stunned. I caught Declan’s slight twitch of his lips. It must have been some time since anyone openly defied my brother.
“Declan, old friend,” I said, leaning back in my chair as though I had all the time in the world, “I hear through the supernatural grapevine that you’ve found a mate.”
Declan’s head jerked up, but he nodded. “Her name’s Isla.”
I turned my gaze to Aiden, who glared at me, his jaw tightening. “And you? Have you met her?”
Aiden pressed his lips into a thin line, his voice cold. “Redhead. Mousy. I don’t know what he sees in her.” He raised his glass, sipping slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
Declan bristled beside him. “Must you?” His voice was steady, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. “You don’t like her—I understand that—but you know how I feel.”
Aiden rolled his eyes, the gesture dismissive. “Feelings,” he muttered, barely audible.
I placed a forkful of the roast into my mouth, savoring the deliberate pause as I chewed and swallowed. “Declan, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve spoken about finding the right woman—about marriage, even. Should I be congratulating you?”
Declan’s eyes widened in fear as he glanced at Aiden. “No,” he said quietly, his voice hollow. “My place is here, with Aiden. I only see her every few weeks.”
I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and turned to Aiden. “Surely, you wouldn’t deny your closest ally the joy of marrying his mate? It would set quite the example, wouldn’t it? A union of strength, loyalty—a perfect show for your… council.” I gestured lazily to the table around us, a pointed jab at the absurdity of his gathering.
Aiden’s knuckles turned even whiter around his glass, but he forced a smile. “Declan has never spoken of marriage—not since he left you behind.”
I arched a brow, letting the silence grow before I responded. “You think his heart has changed that much? Or perhaps it’s your influence, Aiden—your need to remind everyone who holds the power. But even you must see the value in allowing such a union. Unless, of course, you’re worried your council might view it as a weakness. That would explain this…” I looked pointedly around the room. “This spectacle.”
Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze to his plate. Perfect. A perceived weakness—real or otherwise—was something he couldn’t tolerate.
After a long pause, Aiden turned his head toward Declan. “My brother is right, isn’t he? You wish to marry this—human.”
Declan cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy quiet that had fallen over the table. He inhaled sharply, his voice firm despite the tension in his body. “Yes, I do.”
Aiden tapped a finger against the table, his expression a mask of calculation. Finally, he waved a hand in annoyance. “Fine. Do it. Quickly. But nothing else changes. You will be at my side when I need you.”
Declan exhaled heavily, the weight of the moment written across his face. “Of course, Aiden.”
He glanced at me, the barest hint of a smile crossing his lips. Gratitude, mixed with disbelief, flickered in his eyes.
Aiden turned back to me, his eyes narrowing. “Satisfied?”
“Perfectly, thank you,” I replied, raising my glass with a faint smile. “Congratulations, Declan. You deserve it.”
Aiden sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now that you have something you desire, back to the Cure. You were just going to tell me all about him, weren’t you, Cormac?” His eyes gleamed with a fervor that bordered on madness.
I took my time standing, allowing the chair to scrape against the floor, the sound a sharp protest of the growing silence. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Aiden, his eyes flashing with anger. “I haven’t said you could leave.”
“You do a very poor imitation of Father. I’ve indulged you enough.”
His hand curled into a fist on the table, the wineglass trembling with the strength of his grip, though his voice remained steady. “Sit down, Cormac, or I’ll have you killed.”
I leaned forward, placing my hands on the table. I met his eyes and saw the hesitation behind the threat. He needed this charade of power, this illusion of control. Killing me would destroy the fragile web he had spun, and we both knew it. “No, you won’t because as much as you don’t want to admit it, you wish your family was at your side. This entire show was a hope I would stay right here. But I will not engage in your war.”
As I straightened, a hand landed on my shoulder at the same time as I smelled the wolf. The air next to me whistled, and the wolf collapsed. I barely caught sight of the handle of the silver blade that had pierced his heart, killing him.
The others at the table didn’t even gasp. A woman sitting a few seats away fought against her trembling lip as tears gathered in her eyes. She must have been his mate.
Aiden smiled, his elbow still sitting on the table from the blade he had thrown. “Sit down, or the next one goes in your chest.”
My brother’s eyes grew wider as I walked past him to the French doors, opening them and feeling the air rush around us. I took a calculated risk that only two day walkers were in the room, Aiden and Declan. And I knew the wolves' speed was no match for mine.
“Do you think I won’t find the Cure and kill him myself? And your witch.”
“You won’t lay a hand on either of them,” I said calmly, walking into the sunlight. My demeanor hid the pounding of my heart. What would happen if Aiden got to them? I turned my gaze to the crumbled body of the wolf who had only dared to lay a hand on me.
“Declan,” sneered Aiden, holding the hilt of a silver blade toward our friend. “Show my brother back to his room.”
“Certainly, Aiden.” Declan took the knife and hesitated for only a second before he raced toward me, the blade pointed toward my heart.
But that second was all the time needed for the look of understanding that passed between us. At the last moment, I stepped to the side, allowing him to pass me. With his back still turned toward me, I grasped each side of his head in my hands. A stomach-churning crackling noise echoed around us as Declan’s neck broke when I twisted his head. He would wake with a headache worse than mine.
“Wolves,” Aiden commanded.
By the time they rose from around their seats, I was already gone.
Aurora’s face flashed in my mind. I had already been away for far too long.
The wind rushed past me as I sped through the streets. Aiden could bask in his delusions for now. My path was clear—find the Cure, protect Aurora, and end this nightmare before it consumed us both.