“And what do you know of our kind?” Marquis asked. He was beginning to grow wary.
Arielle slowly released her breath. She lifted her free hand tentatively, almost like she was going to touch Nachari softly on the cheek, and then she quickly pulled it away and tucked it beneath her arm. “Your eyes…they’re so green…like the forest trees in a moonlit valley. Woodland emeralds wrapped in celestial light.” She turned toward Marquis and winced, clearly afraid to provoke him but obviously compelled to continue. “And yours; they’re so black they’re nearly blue.” She spoke the words with reverence. “And you’re built like a mountain.” She almost laughed then, but caught herself before the mirth sprang forth. She turned to Nathaniel and gently cocked her head to the other side—she was staring so intently it was unnerving. “And this one is devious to his soul, his gaze as dark and enchanting as the ocean floor.”
Her eyes misted with tears, and that’s when Marquis lost his patience. He shifted nervously in his heavy boots. “What is your malfunction?” he jeered. “Are you touched in the head or something, woman?”
Ignoring his comment, Arielle turned to Kagen. “And one has brown hair, the color of milk chocolate with almond swirls lightly intermixed, and his eyes are just as rich, only they shimmer with an unspoken depth in the centers, silver, like the autumn moon.” She took a careful step back then, sheathed her short-sword, and brought her hands to her face, where she grasped her cheeks in disbelief. “The one called Kagen.”
Kagen swallowed his surprise. Now this was getting freaky. “How do you know my name?”
She arched her brows, displaying a bit of her inner fire. “How do you know mine?”
“Don’t play games, woman!” Marquis growled. He was clearly not in the mood for banter.
She shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Her voice trailed off, and she grinned. And when she did, the entire clearing smiled with her: The sun was brighter, the timber wolf moon was lighter, and the surrounding vegetation seemed to sharpen with intensity.
Kagen tried again. “How do you know my name?”
She giggled unabashedly. “Then you are Kagen…Silivasi?”
Kagen raised his shoulders and nodded his head slowly. “Yes.”
She turned to the wizard next. “And you are Nachari?”
Nachari furrowed his brow. “I am.”
When she turned to Nathaniel, their eyes met in a knowing glance, and both of them spoke the word as one: “Nathaniel.”
Marquis seemed positively dumbfounded. He cleared his throat and tried to speak, but no words came out.
Arielle placed her hand on her heart. “I know you…because I know your father.”
Kagen’s entire body shook. He could hardly contain his hope. “You know our father, or you knew our father?”
Arielle nodded emphatically. “I know your father…I know Keitaro.”
Marquis staggered backward; Nathaniel swayed to the side; and Nachari placed an unsteady hand on Kagen’s arm, trying to maintain his own equilibrium. “Don’t lie to us,” the wizard whispered. His voice was thick with desperation.
Arielle shook her head. “I would never do such a thing. By all the ancestors, Keitaro has suffered like no other. He has waited hundreds of years for this day. And yet, he never thought it would come. I never thought it would come.”
The words made Kagen ecstatic, and then they made him queasy—Keitaro has suffered like no other—but he couldn’t let his mind go there. Not now. Not when they were so close to learning about their father’s whereabouts, perhaps even learning how to rescue him, after 480 years. “Who are you to Keitaro?” Kagen asked, unashamed of the raw emotion that surfaced in his voice.
Arielle’s eyes softened with compassion, and her voice intensified with sincerity. “I am the daughter of his heart.” She spoke proudly. “And he is the father of mine.”
Kagen and Nathaniel traded an intimate glance, in the way that only twins could, and the depth of emotion, their shared relief, was as palpable as the bond between them. Kagen could not believe their good fortune—what were the odds that the first person they met in Mhier would know Keitaro…and be his friend? Surely, the gods were with them.
Nachari took Arielle’s hand in his and squeezed it eagerly. “Tell us. Please. Tell us everything.”
Marquis finally gathered his composure. He glanced around the clearing and frowned. “Not here. Not now. We should retreat someplace safe.”
“Of course,” Arielle agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Yes.” She eyed a nearly concealed path just beyond the bank of the swamp, approaching a grove of trees. “The warriors in the Rebel Camp will not be happy to learn that there are new vampires in the land, and Thane’s men”—she shivered as she spoke the name—“well, needless to say, we need to avoid them at all costs.”
“Is there someplace we can go?” Nathaniel asked, hurriedly. It was clear that he was growing impatient.
Arielle glanced over her shoulder absently as if expecting to find someone there. “I suppose we could try to conceal ourselves in the Skeleton Swamps, but that’s—”
“Hell no!” Nachari interrupted. “I’m not going back in there.”
Marquis held up his hand to silence the wizard. “Anywhere else?”
“If we make it to the gorge, there are some very large rocks and boulders.”
“But it’s still not entirely safe?” Nathaniel asked.
Arielle nodded. “No place in Mhier is safe. Well…except…there is a small system of caves at the base of the Mystic Mountains. As far as we know, the lycans have no idea the caves are there. It should be safe enough for however long it takes.” She grimaced as she gave it further thought. “But the caves are a good eight hours away.”
Marquis considered her words carefully. “Flying is out,” he said, to no one in particular. “Too risky.”
Kagen knew exactly what the Ancient Master Warrior was referring to—invisibility was always tricky: While most vampires could render themselves invisible, it took a great deal of concentration to hold an additional object in an unseen state for a significant period of time…let alone another person. At best, the Silivasis might be able to cloak their packs and their munitions for a couple of minutes, over a couple of miles. Add Arielle to the mix, and the whole thing was an accident waiting to happen.
Marquis shrugged as if his mind was made up. “I guess we’re walking.”
“That’s fine,” Nachari said. “If it means being safe, it’s better to wait.”
All at once, Arielle began to turn a pale shade of blue. Her eyes grew dim, and her hands began to tremble at her sides. “Oh gods,” she muttered, frantically, “but we don’t have much time.”
“What do you mean?” Marquis asked.
“Today is already Wednesday,” Arielle explained. “On Sunday, your father may be killed in the arena.”
Kagen’s heart stopped beating in his chest. Killed in the arena? “What does that mean?”
To her credit, Arielle didn’t mince words. “King Thane scheduled a public execution in the arena—he intends to kill his wife while all the realm looks on. Your father is being used as an opening act for the games. He’ll be fighting Cain Armentieres, one of Thane’s alpha generals, but not in a fair match. I just know the king intends to see them both killed before it’s all over.”
Nathaniel sucked in a harsh, ragged breath, and Nachari rocked back on his heels.
Kagen grew eerily calm, yet something inside of him stirred, dangerously.
“How far away is this arena?” Marquis barked, practically spitting the last word.
“Two or three days’ travel, if you don’t run into any of Thane’s guards,” Arielle answered. She looked positively ill.
“We can get there much sooner if we have to,” Kagen insisted, no longer addressing the female warrior: Time was too critical, and he and his brothers needed to devise a plan…
Yesterday.
“But not without a plan,” Marquis said gravely;
clearly, they were on the same page. “Not without knowing all that Arielle knows first.” He leveled a brutally honest gaze at his brothers. “We may only have one chance to get this right, and only the gods know what kind of odds we are facing. We need to go to these caves, and we need to get there now.”
“We can make it in half the time if we jog…an hour if we run,” Nachari offered.
“Agreed,” Nathaniel said. He shared a knowing glance with Kagen, and his eyes heated with the intensity of his telepathic words: This woman’s well-being and our father’s are intertwined. While we must keep her safe at all costs, we have much to learn in a small amount of time.
Kagen nodded, understanding the unspoken implication: There was no time for niceties.
He turned to face the clearly distraught human and smiled placidly to distract her. “Where are the caves, Arielle?”
She started to answer, but Kagen didn’t wait—he didn’t dare waste a single moment.
He burrowed into her mind and took the information, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’ve got it,” he told his brothers, and then he met Arielle’s startled expression head-on. “Sleep, little one,” he commanded, and she fell into his arms.
“I’ll take the cache of ammo,” Marquis said gruffly.
“And I’ll take your pack with the blood, venom, and meds,” Nathaniel said. He slid the heavy pack off the warrior’s shoulders, even as Marquis reached down to heft the large chest of ammo and balance it on his back.
“I’ve got everything else,” Nachari chimed in, referring to the excess tents and bedrolls, which he quickly detached from the other packs and tethered to his own.
Kagen transferred Arielle’s bow to his left arm, adjusted his own pack, and hefted the slumbering woman, along with her quiver, over his remaining, dominant shoulder, shifting her into the most comfortable position possible. “I’m ready.”
“Lead the way,” Marquis barked.
And just like that, Kagen Silivasi and his brothers began to jog with their heavy burdens in tow…and then, they began to sprint.
As they became nothing more than a coursing blur, blazing across the landscape, an impression of light, sound, and speed, Kagen couldn’t help but think about the sudden turn of events: the incredible good fortune and the imminent, unspeakable threat.
And all the while, Arielle slept…
Peacefully.
Unknowing.
The cornered queen in a high-stakes game of chess.
She was like a captive bird in the healer’s hands, a rare, invaluable treasure, and Kagen Silivasi had no intention of letting the native Mhieridian go.
ten
Arielle struggled to contain her emotions, to conceal her mounting fear, and to process all the vampires had told her, and done to her, thus far. On one hand, this was more than she had ever hoped for, the first real opportunity to help Keitaro Silivasi significantly—in fact, a real chance to save him from his endless captivity and torture—but on the other hand, the fearsome creatures had put her to sleep without her permission, carried her to the cave as if she were nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and now, they were asking things of her that left her quaking in her boots.
An offering of her blood, for starters.
She drew the blanket Nachari had given her more tightly around her shoulders, scooted closer to the crackling fire, situated at the cave’s center, for warmth—and just how had the healer started it with his hand, anyhow?—and she tried to quiet her mind. The healer—Kagen—had explained that the blood exchange was necessary: The brothers could use it to track her at will if the need arose. In other words, no matter where she went in Mhier, they could find her as long as they had taken her blood.
Arielle wasn’t sure if that fact was reassuring or terrifying. They were Keitaro’s sons, after all, and this gave her more than just a small measure of comfort: Keitaro would not have raised a male without nobility at his core, yet a supernatural creature was a supernatural creature; and Arielle knew all too well what males could do when their power remained unchecked. No parents could ensure that their offspring never made a wrong choice or went down an errant path, no matter how well they were raised.
“Are you okay?” Kagen’s silky voice interrupted her thoughts. He seemed to be the one taking the lead most of the time, and it only made sense, in a way. Considering that both she and Kagen were healers, they had a natural connection, a host of things in common outside of their love for Keitaro.
And that last truth was self-evident, the fact that all of Keitaro’s sons clearly revered him, that they were practically desperate to get him back.
“I’m fine,” she answered meekly, turning her attention back to the vampires’ second enormous request: They wanted to read her memories, every last one, starting from the day she was born. As the healer had explained, there was just too much information in her head to garner it all in a day. There were things that might be important, things that might get overlooked, and there were details that a human might not think to relay—scents, impressions, background information—things that might prove invaluable in a critical moment. And every moment from this point forward was as critical as critical could be. In short, they wanted to know everything there was to know about the lycans, everything there was to know about Mhier, and everything Arielle knew about Keitaro. And they wanted to know it all right now.
Since Arielle’s mind was a ripe treasure chest full of more information than they could ever hope to obtain by listening to her stories or her firsthand accounts, they expected her to share the booty, without hesitation.
Arielle sighed, feeling as lost as she was overwhelmed.
Unfortunately, there was a lot more in her mind than memories of the realm and Keitaro: There were feelings about her father, Ryder, the one who had never loved her or claimed her. There were Walker’s embarrassing advances and her own girlish hopes and dreams. She wasn’t sure just how much they could take from her psyche, but she figured if she had once thought it, wished it, or dreamed it, it would surely be there. Open to their perusal.
“Is it the blood…or the memories?” Kagen asked, his soft voice washing over her skin like a gentle ray of sunshine. Bless the Ancient Ones; these vampires were too powerful for their own good. And Kagen, he had a way about him that was especially dangerous, particularly to the female persuasion. The way all that rugged brown hair hung loose about his eyes, the way he modulated his voice to make sure it seeped beneath one’s skin, and the way he flirted, however unintentionally, with his eyes and his gestures, that powerful, masculine frame; all of it was deadly. And Arielle had no doubt that he used all his assets on purpose.
“The blood.” She led with the scariest proposition first. “It won’t hurt, right?”
“And even if it did?” Marquis cut in from across the fire. The huge, surly vampire was quickly growing impatient, and although he scared the wits right out of her, Arielle couldn’t help but feel compassion for his situation. After all, Marquis was exactly as Keitaro had described him, and that made his rough demeanor a little easier to take.
“Of course, I would endure pain for Keitaro,” Arielle said, understanding the Ancient Master Warrior’s true question. “I’m just trying to understand—”
Kagen waved his hand through the air to silence her, and then he leveled a heated gaze at Marquis. “You don’t have to answer every question, just because he asks.” He winked at her, and her stomach did an odd little flip.
“Of course she does,” Marquis grumbled. And then, blessedly, he turned his attention back to a map of Mhier and the side-conversation he was having with Nathaniel.
Kagen appraised her thoughtfully. “So if it isn’t the blood, then it’s the memories. The intimate nature of your thoughts.”
Arielle felt abominable.
Selfish.
Beyond reprehensible.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Kagen shrugged and rotated his hands, turning both palms up in a gesture of f
orbearance. “Feelings aren’t necessarily right or wrong, sweeting. They simply are.” He smiled, a gentle, reassuring grin. “But it’s what we choose to do with them that defines our character.”
She groaned, feeling even worse, and he reached out and took her hand, rotating his thumb in soft but firm caresses over the inside of her wrist. Over her pulse and her median vein.
“Stop,” she whispered in a rush, pulling her hand away. “You’re using your powers to influence me.”
“I am,” Kagen admitted, unapologetically. He leaned in closer and held her gaze in an unblinking stare. “Arielle, you must know that we are trying to approach this situation with as much diplomacy as possible…for your sake.” He looked off into the distance before returning to her eyes. “That we don’t wish to cause you pain or discomfort…or fear. But that these questions have already been answered.” He sighed, as if the words weighed heavily on his shoulders. “Your permission is a formality, beautiful warrior. Keitaro is our father. We would oppose the gods themselves to save him, and we will leave no stone unturned in our attempt. We may only get one try.” He paused to modulate his voice, to try to make it softer. “Tell me then, how can we make the taking of your blood and your memories easier on you? Since it really isn’t a question as to whether or not it will happen.”
Marquis looked up from the map, measured the two of them, and then nodded his head in approval. And didn’t that just make Arielle feel like jumping up and running. She chose to muster her courage instead. “Which one of you has the most experience?” she asked, getting straight to the point. “I mean with each one.”
Kagen’s perfectly arched brows shot up, and a sly smile crossed his sultry mouth. “Mmm, well, when it comes to feeding, taking blood”—he corrected himself—“we are Vampyr, sweeting, so all of us have a wealth of experience. I assure you, you won’t experience any discomfort. If anything, you may experience a slight euphoria.”
Arielle eyed him sideways and grimaced, clutching the blanket more closely to her chest. That was the last thing she wanted: to experience a slight euphoria while one of Keitaro’s sons had their fangs lodged in her neck. She had no desire to act a fool or a besotted dolt in front of these powerful creatures. She nervously licked her lips and shuddered. “And taking memories?”