Chapter 3
Rasmus
Screams and yells echoed in my ears as I reached the mezzanine floor using my vampire strength and speed. While I hadn’t fully recovered from my extended blood fast, I was strong enough to hunt my mate down and kill the mage if he had failed to protect her.
Yes, killing him might be fatal for my sweet, darling mate, but if I turned her before she took her last breath, she’d survive.
Discarded drinks and upended chairs suggested a mass exodus at great speed the moment the demons appeared. Broken glass crunched under my shoes as I crossed the room, searching for the exit.
Candles flickered in wall sconces, creating deep shadows. A soft whimper from a booth to my left told me at least one person hadn’t run, but I ignored it.
From the enraged roars of the hellhound, the bear and the incubus wouldn’t be following me yet. But that was okay. I could track my mate using the ruby necklace I’d gifted her. The ancient magic should pinpoint her exact location.
I focused on it and then frowned in consternation. Even though I sensed her nearby, it was as if a magic spell had cloaked her. Perhaps the mage was trying to keep her hidden from rampaging demons. I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
I shot through a door behind a circular bar littered with half-empty glasses and broken bottles, into a dark corridor, and then down some stairs.
The stench of sulfur and brimstone grew thicker when I reached another door.
This one remained locked, but beneath the pungent aroma, the subtle scent of cherries and smoke lingered.
My mate had come this way.
I sniffed harder but smelled no blood. Not hers anyway.
A simple ward, probably designed to keep humans out, proved no barrier. The lock shattered with a hard shove and push of magic. It led into a second corridor lined with closed doors.
A familiar male voice ahead echoed through the gloom. The storm mage. Who was he talking to? My mate?
“I have her…yes…come now.”
Rage swept through me. Alaric Vane had betrayed her. Betrayed us. No wonder he hadn’t sealed the bond. The minute he did so, he could no longer hurt her. A soul-bond prevented both parties from acts of aggression.
It didn’t protect him from me, however.
He might be one of my witch’s consorts, but a consort who betrayed his soul-bonded mate did not deserve the privilege of bonding with a perfect female like my queen.
And now he’d lose that privilege because I was about to tear his head from his shoulders.
The storm mage’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw me less than a foot away, fangs extended. I lunged, ready to kill the fucker, but hit a magic barrier that sent me flying backward.
He rubbed his chest and then laughed. “You can’t touch me, vampire.”
The mage reeked of sulfur yet showed no signs of having fought any demons. There wasn’t a mark on him.
He was also alone.
“Where is she?” Venom dripped onto my shirt as my temper burned white-hot. The mage might think he had the upper hand, but no protection spell lasted forever, and the minute his weakened, I’d kill the arrogant fucker.
“She’s safe.” A small smirk ghosted across his lips.
Why couldn’t I see her? Had the mage hidden her with magic?
“You don’t deserve her,” I spat. After hundreds of years, I’d learned the hard way that patience was indeed a virtue. Whereas in my youth I had acted first and asked questions later, I now did the opposite. Sometimes things were not as they appeared.
The longer I stared at the storm mage, the more I realized something seemed off about him. Shadows swirled in his green irises, and every few seconds his left eye twitched.
My vampire nature recognized the signs. Someone powerful had used magic to bend the storm mage to their will, and from the taint of sulfur and brimstone, it was dark magic.
Few beings had the skills to cast a dark magic enchantment strong enough to hold someone of Alaric Vane’s magical caliber.
“Which mage or witch has you in their thrall?” I stepped back, despite fearing for my mate’s safety. She was close; I could sense her presence. And from the steady beat of her heart, she was safe for the moment.
Alaric shuddered and grimaced as the spell tightened its grip on him. His eye twitched faster, black shadows flaring in his irises as he struggled against the constraints holding him prisoner.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he gritted out eventually.
Dark magic was a tricky foe, but if he was fighting an internal battle, I might have enough strength to break the protection spell.
“Come now, Alaric,” I purred, vampiric coercion coating my voice, “there’s no need to fear me.”
He blinked and grimaced again. Yes, the enchantment was powerful, but not infallible. At a guess, the partial soul-bond was helping him fight it.
This had to be the work of Tiberius Vane.
Alaric’s father had always coveted power. It was why he hated the vampires. My father had seen through his charm offensive and worked hard to thwart his many schemes.
Raven must have caught Tiberius’s attention somehow. While a bond between her and his son would be advantageous to him, he wouldn’t want Alaric to share her with other mates. Especially shifters.
“Back off, bloodsucker,” the storm mage sneered. “You should have stayed dead like the rest of your kind.”
The chain on my temper snapped.
I attacked, but once again, the magic shield zapped me. It threw me backward, weakening me. Only this time, instead of laughing, the storm mage cast a second vicious spell in retaliation.
The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was my queen, slumped on the floor a few feet away, her cheeks damp with tears.