Chapter 3
3
Rafael glided along the moss-covered ground, rotting leaves and lichen creating a grass-like cover over the nutrient-rich dirt. Inhaling, he drew in the earthy richness surrounding him as he crept through the trees. Nothing moved, not even the gentle breeze.
Glancing upward, the thick canopy was still, as if waiting for whatever had invaded the forest to pass. He caught sight of the birds resting on the highest branches, their beady black eyes fixated on a central location in front of him, but their complete silence told the story. Evil had found them once more.
A few more feet into the forest’s interior, the heavy scent of blood hit him. Thick and cloying, the iron-laced coppery stench permeated the air. He stepped into a clearing and jerked to a stop, his gaze taking in the carnage.
The destruction covering the once-pristine spot was complete. The centuries-old trunks were scarred with countless slash marks as if an entire army had passed through. The trampled grass and churned earth were saturated with blood, appearing more red than green.
His focus, however, was on the mangled body in the middle of the area that drew his attention. An Ironclaw, or what had been an Ironclaw. Now, though, it was nothing more than a shredded lump of fur and flesh.
Studying the scene, he followed the werewolf’s tracks, noting how they moved oddly as if it had leaped from spot to spot. What sort of battle tactic was that? Scowling, he moved to the other side of the body where something caught his attention.
Stripes of bloodstained soil stopped and then resumed a foot away. Kneeling, he turned over the clump of dirt between the stripes and placed it back in its original position, completing the pattern. The werewolf’s claws had struck whoever or whatever he had fought.
He lifted the clod and smelled the blood smeared over the grass, inhaling the coppery scent. Underlying the normal smell of blood was the subtle and familiar combination of mint and mothballs. A vampire. Raising his narrowed gaze, he studied the surrounding trees and foliage, but the forest’s solitude told him he was alone.
He followed the blood, the trail leading him into the dense trees and other fauna. From what he knew of vampires, their bodies healed fast—even faster than the werewolves.
A few yards into the forest, the blood trail faded. After a couple more steps, it was gone entirely. Standing still, he realized he had turned a complete circle. The vampire had led him back home.
Morgan . He mentally kicked himself for leaving her alone and unprotected.
As he drew closer to the stone house he had built many decades ago, the surrounding air turned cold as if he had walked into a freezer. While scouting over the past couple of months, he noticed more cold spots but couldn’t find any explanation. The undead was the only entity he knew of that left anything resembling this space displacement, but he had not run across a vampire in more than fifty years.
Rafael sprinted to the house, which blended into the mountain’s rocky face. He loved his home and had worked tirelessly, fitting each piece seamlessly to the next until Fer-Diorich returned. He had vowed centuries ago that the Dark Fae would never again harm those he loved, including his brothers. With the Fae after Torin’s unborn twins, he didn’t need anything else getting in the way of Morgan’s healing.
Rafael reached out with his mind and sensed the wolves roaming the woods near his home, but Morgan wasn’t there. Widening his search, he sensed her presence nearby but definitely outside. Reaching out to the pack, he urged them to search for her, trusting them to keep her safe.
The pack was his silent alarm and secret weapon. He discovered the alpha pair when they were cubs, first the male, Solitaire, and then several days later, the female, Isabella.
Using his wolf’s blood bond, Rafael knew Isabella and the rest of the pack paced nearby, but not Solitaire. As with all alpha pairs, the male was devoted to Isabella and would never leave her, so where was he?
Edging around the giant, graceful fir blocking his front door, he immediately sensed a presence inside. Stopping mid-step, he closed his eyes and shoved his fingers through his long hair, tousling it even more. Now he knew why he was restless. The reunion was inevitable, but he had hoped to prolong it by, oh, say, half a dozen more centuries.
“I should’ve known you would show up sometime . ” He stepped through the open doorway, his gaze centering on the intruder standing in the shadows of the fireplace.
“I would not have chosen this particular time, though,” the familiar voice replied. “Things are rather stressful around here.” A figure emerged, gliding into the dim light filtering through the nearby window.
“Hello, Lucan. I’d tell you that I’m glad to see you, but I would be lying,” Rafael said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. He watched the man gracefully glide across the floor, his movements as fluid as water.
Lucan was dressed in a light gray silk suit that shimmered in the moon’s glow, giving his pale skin the translucence of porcelain. His blue-gray eyes were mercurial and held untold knowledge in their depths.
Other than the clothing, Rafael noticed only a single alteration from the man he knew from his youth, and he had to admit, the hairstyle change was for the better. Lucan’s white-blond hair sported a middle part and was held off his face by two thin braids cinched with small silver cords at the ends while the rest hung in a silky sheet down his back. It was also longer than he had seen, dropping past his shoulder blades.
“Well, at least you look better this time,” Rafael said sarcastically. “I like the hairstyle. The old one made you look like a Borzoi.”
Lucan chuckled. “I don’t take offense to that because the Russian wolfhound is incredibly fast and very loyal. Besides, you know I wasn’t able to do a damn thing about how I looked, much less anything else the last time you saw me. Incarceration has that effect on one’s appearance.” Lucan sneered and moved to the sofa. He sat, casually crossing his legs as he glanced around the sparsely decorated room.
Rafael’s gaze narrowed. His old acquaintance seemed oddly comfortable. He wasn’t sure what to make of that either. Lucan was never comfortable anywhere.
“How did the trial end? I never heard.” Memories flashed through Rafael’s mind of Anya’s betrayal and the resulting trial by the demon council. Lucan’s vampire race had its own hierarchy, with rogues kept in check by three of the oldest and wisest sentinels on the vampire council. New sentinels never seemed to last long policing rogue vampires, so it was interesting they hadn’t intervened, instead letting the demons control the outcome. What strings had Anya pulled?
Unfortunately, in Lucan’s case, Anya had betrayed a demon princess and then killed her. It had been his unfortunate luck to be Anya’s lover. Rumors of his involvement resulted in his placement in a demon prison, but that was the last thing Rafael had heard before he was captured by Kristof and delivered to Fer-Diorich, who cursed him into a werewolf.
“The Tandorasti, or demon sentinels, let me live, and I retained my memories. Could’ve been worse.” Lucan stared into the dying fire. “The oldest, Coroc, was cognoscente in most things, but even he could be fallible. Without his intervention…” Lucan shuddered, but when his old friend’s gaze speared his, they seemed empty and unfocused. To Rafael, they appeared almost as bleak as Lucan’s past.
Rafael stared at his former friend, observing the play of emotions flicker in the shadowed depths of his eyes while his face remained expressionless. Since becoming part Fae, he had discovered the ability to sense people’s emotions, which was another reason he kept to himself.
Whether Lucan realized it or not, a sense of loneliness wafted off him in waves as his sadness filled the room. A basic vampire trait is the ability to control their emotions. This concerned Rafael, but Lucan wouldn’t divulge anything until he was ready.
The need to look for Morgan grew until it was almost a compulsion. Rafael turned around and stared outside, dusk falling quickly as the fall weather moved in. A burning sensation heated the center spot between his shoulder blades as Lucan’s cold gaze pierced his back.
Outside, Isabella sent out a plaintiff howl, calling for her mate. The worried call sent a chill through him. Rafael didn’t like the growing heaviness around his home—a building sense of doom.
He exhaled and turned back to his uninvited guest, crossing his muscular arms over his furry white chest “Since you don’t seem very forthcoming with information, I’ll bite. What are you doing here? The last time we talked, you were very clear that our friendship was over.”
Lucan’s blue-gray eyes sparkled in amusement as he regarded Rafael from head to foot, his eerie gaze landing on one earring before moving down to the golden cuffs around each forearm. “You, of all people, should know I was not in my right mind. Really, who would be stupid enough to get in the way of a cornered vampire? Demons were after me, and I was coming off whatever Anya dosed me with. I thought you were more intelligent than that. Maybe I should rethink our friendship?” His pale lips rose in a half smile.
“Wait, I never knew vampires could be drugged.” Rafael leaned against the door frame as Morgan’s essence slowly filled him, easing his worry.
“It isn’t easy, but we can be when given tainted blood. Most things, like drugs and alcohol, are pushed through our systems without any problems. Summoned demon blood, on the other hand, can do a number on us.” Lucan said. His eyes darkened in anger. “It isn’t a feeling I would wish on anyone, although I wish Anya were still alive so I could return the favor.”
Rafael frowned at his long-ago friend. No, friend wasn’t the right word for how close they had once been. They had been more like brothers growing up. It wasn’t until after Rafael had been experimented on by the Dark Fae and Lucan had been captured that their relationship changed. The immense bloodshed during the Spanish Inquisition was a free-for-all for vampires, so it was no surprise Lucan had caught the attention of one of the rogues.
He studied the vampire stiffly sitting in front of him. Vampires, as a rule, do not kill humans. Only the rogues kill for the surge of power each death gives. Never in his eternally long lifetime had he expected to see him again.
Rafael heard the tunnel door behind him snick open and then close. He exhaled the last of his worry. Morgan was here back under his watchful eye, once again safe.
He moved to the chair across from Lucan and sat. With a quick thought, the fire crackled in the fireplace once more, and he clasped his hands between his legs, staring at the floor between Lucan’s shiny black boots. Lucan still liked to dress stylishly, and that thought was somehow reassuring.
“So, tell me about the human.” Lucan frowned, sniffing like a wolf. “Maybe not completely human…”
Rafael tamped down his immediate response to the question, which was irritation. He didn’t want anyone to know about her yet. Letting his gaze casually move over his one-time friend’s face, he didn’t sense any animosity, only mild curiosity.
“Several months ago, a group of…people I know had a run-in with Fer-Diorich. One of the males in the group discovered his mate, who has a twin sister. To make matters worse, the mate is pregnant with twins, which set off the curse the Dark Fae placed on Morrigan’s descendants.”
Lucan’s silver-grey brows rose and he let out a soft whistle. “Morrigan—as in the Celtic goddess of war? That Morrigan?” Rafael nodded. “Well, that’s not good. And twins no less. I think I’ve heard about the curse. The Fae lost his love because of something Morrigan did, so he cursed her descendants to die?”
“Almost. He was stalking a woman who didn’t like him, so he cursed her into the form of a deer. Morrigan helped her break the curse and then continued to help her, introducing her to her true love. When she was pregnant, Fer-Diorich found her again and cursed her back into the form of a deer. She gave birth to a son but died on his seventh birthday. Morrigan took the boy back to his father. For thwarting him, Fer-Diorich cursed all Morrigan’s female descendants. The sisters are her granddaughters.”
“So, why is she here and not with her sister? And what kind of group can fight someone as powerful as the Dark Fae?”
Rafael frowned and shook his head. “She was severely injured during the last battle and was brought here to heal. I will take her back to her sister soon. As for the group, it’s amazing the strength one can find, even a simple human, when their life or the lives of those they love are on the line, no matter who they’re up against. You may stay here and rest, but there are things I must do.”
He started to follow Morgan as she slipped back through the door and into the caves, but he hesitated. “I know we’ve had our problems, Lucan, but I am a good listener,” he said softly before meeting his old friend’s gaze. “If you should ever have need, I will be there for you.”
Without waiting for a reply, Rafael stood and walked away but stopped in the doorway. Slowly turning his head, he caught the shine of a tear as it rolled down Lucan’s pale cheek.
“Thank you, Rafael,” he whispered. “Go deal with your woman. I won’t go far. When you are able, you know where to find me. I have news you need to hear.”
* * *
Morgan hesitated at the tunnel entrance, listening to the stranger’s soft cadence. She studied his regal features, which bore a hidden strength. She knew from studying the wide variety of magical creatures in her mother’s and Fáelán’s libraries that many resembled humans.
Still, she had no idea what this man was, if he was something more than a human. His pale skin worried her, and Lucan’s was beyond pale—almost translucent. Had he recently been sick?
Rafael’s calm voice swept through her like warm syrup, easing the anxiety she had been nursing after she found the remains in the forest. Terrified the Ironclaw had attacked him, she had rushed back here.
Not noticing any sign of hostility between the two males, she reached over and grabbed the roast beef sandwich from her plate on the counter and crept back into caves. She had always loved caving, but now the deep caverns gave her a peace she had not needed before.
Her own blood seemed to be waging a war inside of her, but when she was anxious or angry, it worsened. The only two things that eased the internal fire were the caverns and Rafael, although she would never admit that to anyone, not even her sister.
She stopped a few feet into the dark tunnel and inhaled, closing her eyes. She breathed in the earthy scent of the damp cave. Yet, there was as much life in this rocky world as there was outside. The numerous caves and connecting passageways were inhabited by animals and plants, creating a unique ecosystem. Blind salamanders, fish, shrimp, and other troglobites lurked in the depths of rocks and pools.
Opening her eyes, her gaze trailed along the straight line of lichen glowing near the ceiling. It was one thing she shared with Rafael, who also enjoyed the soothing colors. From talking with Fáelán, she knew it was also his favorite thing about the main cave, which the makeshift family of werewolves called home. Spending what little time she had with the brotherhood, she had learned only a few things about each wolf and longed to know more. They were amazing wolfmen.
Without thought, she followed the ingrained path to her favorite rock, savoring every bite of the delicious sandwich as she stared into the shallow pool at the base of the white limestone flow. She loved how the sheets of calcium carbonate formed the giant flowstone. Like a curtain, the sheaves folded in and out, creating a drapery effect.
Fáelán was the one Immortal who spoke with her and Gwyn the most. As far as she could tell, he was the only one from the original group who enjoyed above and below ground. From her limited experience living with the Immortals, she knew wolves made their dens in caves, but werewolves didn’t and typically behaved more like the humans they once were.
Feeling the tension slowly leave her muscles, she smelled Rafael’s wild forest scent before she heard his soft tread. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Rafael stopped next to her rocky perch. He placed one large paw on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. “Why are you sorry, pequeno?”
“For following you…or trying to anyway. I know you are more experienced fighting the Ironclaws than I am, but I know I can protect your back if necessary. I’m terrific under pressure and can fight—you’ve seen my technique and what I can do, especially now. When you took off, I had such a bad feeling—I had to follow.”
She twisted her head to see his face and gave him a slight scowl. “You were too fast, and I let you get too far ahead of me. I couldn’t catch up.” She reached up and laid her hand over his paw. “I also saw the body. What happened?”
“As you know, we have a guest. He was surprised by the werewolf and fought him off.”
She frowned and twisted on the rock so she could see his face. “How? A mere human can’t do that.”
Rafael smiled. “He is not a mere human. He is a vampire.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Seriously? A real live vampire?” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Well, not live as in alive but in the here-and-now sort of thing. I don’t understand why I’m surprised, though. I’m the granddaughter of Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of war. I’ve become very close to werewolves who are more men than animals, although I have seen their animal sides more than once. And let’s not forget about the guardians of the Fae hallows and the Dark Fae—from the Unseelie Court, no less. Why am I surprised about meeting a vampire?”
Her eyes widened. Her chest tingled, her stomach clenching as excitement filled her. “What about zombies and Frankenstein? Oh! Witches and goblins, too?”
His snout twitched, then bunched up as if he was about to snarl at her. Instead, he let out a loud bark of laughter. “You are amazing. All the women I know would run away screaming, but you? You want to meet monsters.”
She grinned, his amusement infectious. She loved seeing him relaxed and not so serious. She couldn’t remember hearing him laugh before and wanted to listen to the sound again. “I will admit, seeing myths and legends come to life has been troubling but exciting, too.”
She frowned, her hand moving absently over her abdomen where most of the damage had been. Sometimes, she still felt phantom pain from being eviscerated. Without looking at him, the heaviness of his scowl beat at her. “And I’ve always craved excitement, but this time, I think I got a bit too much. Now, tell me about this vampire of yours. Have you known him long?”
Rafael’s smile returned. “All my life. We were children together. His parents’ land bordered ours.” His gaze moved to the pool of water just as a small rock fell. Where it hit, tiny circular waves moved out from the epicenter.
The color of his eyes darkened as his memories surfaced. Something she did not think he allowed often. “We did everything together. Playing, hunting, and getting into mischief. Our parents quickly learned to punish us both, no matter what happened. It didn’t deter us, though.”
“What pulled the two of you apart?” Morgan crossed her legs and picked at the seam on her pants, wishing she was doing something other than just sitting and talking. She had always been an action-type person who needed to stay busy and in motion.
She followed his gaze down to her hand, forcing the nervous movement to stop. Threading her fingers together, she leaned against her thighs. His silvery gaze met hers. Some unknown emotion swirled in the center of his eyes like molten liquid, drawing her deeper into their depths.
“The Spanish Inquisition pulled us in separate directions. He believed the Crown should be the sovereign ruler of Spain, while I became a deputy under the Grand Inquisitor for the Papacy. Not that I agreed the Church should rule countries, but it was the only way I knew to stop what was happening.”
Morgan’s eyebrows rose, her surprise at that statement almost shocking her into silence. Almost. “Wow. I never took you for a churchgoer, much less working for the Pope.” There was no hint of expression in his wolfen features or unusual eyes. An unsettled sensation moved through her as if she had just become his prey.
“After Ferdinand and Isabella married, they used the church to increase their royal power to support their centralizing and absolute regime. Much like Hitler in World War II, thousands of innocent people died during this time. All because they believed in God differently.”
“How tragic. I don’t know much about that time in history, but the second world war is a different matter. I never understood how someone could condemn different cultures for their beliefs. Few people agree on things. Take me and Gwyn, for example. We are almost identical clones, but she likes classical music and history, while I like rock and nature. We like the same foods, but even those can be different. We both love pasta, but she prefers simple dishes like butter and noodles, while I adore lasagna. That’s what makes the world wonderful—the differences.”
“I agree.”
She slid off the rock, patting her backside to warm it up from sitting on the cold limestone too long. “I need to develop a battery-operated cushion for when I decide to stay here longer than fifteen minutes. I can’t feel my backside.”
She moved past him, the heat emanating from him instantly warming her. “What are you going to do with your friend? I’m sure he didn’t come here to say hi. I promise to stay hidden until you’re ready to introduce us.”
Walking back toward the house, she listened for his almost silent tread but didn’t need to. She knew exactly where he was. Somehow, this swarthy, mysterious wolf had crawled under her skin, and if she were honest with herself, she wouldn’t have it any other way.