And now we’re back, and we’ve found one another. And once again, we’re caught between the Cambyra Fae, the vampires and the Vampiric Fae, with Grieve bound to the Indigo Court when Myst turned him into one of her own. And me? I’m tied to Lannan’s shirttail by a contract that he insists on enforcing.
Some of our allies have chosen to betray us, so once again, we’re in hiding, on the run, fighting against overwhelming odds. Only this time, it will be different. Neither Myst nor the vampires will win. Grieve and I will weather the storm. We have no other option.
Once we were inside, I flipped on a pale flashlight. The living room had weathered the fire, with soot and smoke damage, but the weather was creeping in through the caved-in roof in the kitchen, and I shivered as I saw the ravaged state of the room. Myst’s people had been through here, that was apparent. The upholstered sofas were shredded as if by wild dogs. Holes marred the walls; the beautiful old antiques had been scratched and broken.
I slowly walked over to my aunt Heather’s desk. She’d never need this again—not now—but the sight of the injured wood made me glad that I’d come instead of Rhiannon. It was bad enough to lose her mother to the enemy, but to lose her house and the memories of her childhood?
As I ran my hand over the wood, my heart ached.
“I’m sorry.” Kaylin’s voice echoed softly behind me. “Can I do anything to help?”
I turned, gazing into his smooth, unlined face. He was gorgeous, Chinese by descent, with a long ponytail. Lithe and wiry-strong, Kaylin Chen was more than one hundred years old. He had been wedded to a night-veil demon in his soul in the womb, and had never been fully human.
I sought for something to say, but there were no words. I was in a dark spot, and I didn’t know the way out. Finally, I looked hopelessly around the room, shrugging. A picture on the wall of Heather and Rhiannon spurred my tongue.
“Let’s see what we can find. If you see any pictures…for Rhiannon…like that one…”
He nodded, taking the picture off the wall, and then began to hunt through the sideboard on the opposite side of the room. After a while he moved out into the next room.
I turned back to the desk and yanked open one of the drawers that had somehow remained untouched. And there was the first sign of hope I’d seen. Aunt Heather’s journal, with her magical notes in it. It was intact, with the map that showed the Veil House as a major power juncture on several crisscrossing ley lines.
I pulled out the journal. It was cold in my hand, slightly damp, but unharmed. I shoved it in my bag, then shuffled through the rest of the drawer. The bank book, an envelope of cash—of course, they would have left these things. Myst’s people had no use for money, but we could use it.
After a quick look-see, I just swept everything into the bag and then glanced at the piles on the floor surrounding the other upended drawers. Not much had been left intact, but there—a ring of keys. Not sure what they opened, I added them to the bag. One of them looked like it was for a safety-deposit box.
Lannan had vanished, but after a moment he reappeared, carrying a large bag stuffed full of plastic bags and jars. “I found your herb stash. Thought these might be useful.”
I nodded, fishing through them. Some of these I could use. Some had been herbs that Leo had used to make healing salves. Leo. “Crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Lannan was on instant alert, darting a look over his shoulder at the door. “Do you sense something?”
“No. I was just thinking about Leo and how he fucked us over.” I pressed my lips together and finally looked into Lannan’s eyes. A mistake—you should never stare at a vampire directly—but I didn’t care.
Lannan’s eyes were the center of the abyss, cold and unfeeling. “Leo made his choice. I told you that Geoffrey was not to be trusted.” He hefted the bag over one shoulder. “Don’t blame the boy. He is choosing immortality over frailty.”
“Don’t blame him? Leo trashed Rhiannon’s world. They were engaged and he turned his back on her. He fucking hit me across the face. And Geoffrey…” I shuddered. “Geoffrey wanted to turn me—the same way he’d turned Myst. He wanted to use me as a weapon to bait her.”
Eons ago, Geoffrey, the Regent of the Northwest Vampire Nation and one of the Elder Vein Lords, had attempted to turn the Unseelie Fae. It was then that Myst had been born, turned from his lover into a creature neither vampire nor Fae. A terrifying half-breed, she was more powerful than both Unseelie and vampire. And she was able to bear children. She had become the mother of her race and Queen of the Indigo Court.
Lannan brushed away my fear. “Forget about Geoffrey.” His voice coiled seductively around me as he leaned against my back, one hand around my waist.
“I want to turn you, but not in order to use you against Myst. I want you for a playmate. But you, Cicely Waters, you would be no fun if I made it too easy. I like a little fight in my playthings.”
I caught my breath, steeling myself as his lips tickled my ear, his fangs dangerously close to my neck. “I hate you.” I pushed his hand away from my waist. He let go, only to grab my wrist, his fingers holding me in an iron grip as he delicately rubbed against my skin, setting off yet another unwelcome spark in my stomach.
“Remember your manners, Cicely. Or I’ll have to give you another lesson in etiquette.” His words were soft but threatening.
The glimmer of the flashlight on his hair made him sparkle as if a golden nimbus surrounded him. A memory flared, with me caught in the blood fever, crying out, “My angel of darkness, make it light for me…” My words echoed through my thoughts and I let out a little moan. I was walking on thin ice—I’d felt the sting of Lannan’s perverted lessons too many times now.
Lannan watched me closely, a look of delight spreading across his face. “You’re thinking about me. Inside you. If only we hadn’t been interrupted, I could have finished and you would have been mine. Can you really think that I don’t revel in your reluctance? But you have to admit, I’ve become a valuable ally.”
I let out a long, slow breath and nodded. “Perhaps, but I don’t trust you.”
“Good. You shouldn’t trust anyone. I don’t understand why you trusted Leo to begin with. His nose is pushed so far up Geoffrey’s ass that I’m amazed you didn’t suspect him earlier. He’s just doing what his nature begs.”
“Stop, please. And don’t defend Leo.”
Lannan snorted. “Girl, if Geoffrey gives him what he wants, your cousin had better lock her doors at night, because he’ll be coming for her. I know his type.”
“If he hurts her, I’ll never forgive him.” If Leo came after Rhiannon, I’d stake him myself.
Tipping my chin up with his index finger, Lannan shook his head. “My sweet Cicely…Leo won’t bother asking for forgiveness. Vampires have neither need nor desire for atonement. I am what I am. I’m a predator. I’m your master. And I have no remorse for any of the things I’ve done in my life. Save, perhaps, for leaving my beautiful sister in that house with Geoffrey.”
I pulled away and kicked at the rubble. There was nothing else of value here. “You had to. You didn’t have a choice.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. But we should go, if you are done. Here comes your father and Kaylin.” And once again, he was all business.
We carried what bags and boxes we’d found out to the car and, before Myst found out we were here and sent a scouting party, we eased out of the driveway and headed back to the warehouse that had become our temporary home. All the way there, Lannan leaned over the backseat, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I knew Wrath and Kaylin were watching, but there was nothing I could do to stop him. Lannan was an ally we needed, and if I protested, he’d only find another way to screw with my head. And another mind-fuck was the last thing I needed right now.
Yasmine Galenorn, Shaded Vision: An Otherworld Novel
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