Arundia Returns Page 3

  Gregory got up and walked over to the coffee pot on the counter. “Anyone ready for a refill?” He held the pot aloft. After he refilled the cups, he returned to his seat. Fatigue lined his face. “I wish Matriarch Belora was here to answer that question. I suppose they might have a ritual where the heads are useful—although I’ve never heard of one. My best guess is bragging rights. Just like humans who kill for no reason and call it a sport.” He turned his attention to Alexis. “As for your question, it would be a fairly big coincidence if these attacks were unrelated to the war. I don’t believe in coincidence, especially on that scale.”

  “What about the other Supernaturals, like the witches, are they experiencing an increase of attacks lately?” Alexis cradled her cup between her hands as her gaze roamed from one face to the next.

  I shifted on the couch, curling my legs beneath me and balancing my cup on a thigh. “We’ve heard rumors that attacks on witches have increased during the past few months.”

  “Right around the time Arundia’s People began attacking the Families and the Clans of our People?” Alexis asked.

  At the back of my mind a quiet voice whispered—see how easily she claims my People—just like Baskell. Whenever he spoke, it was always our People as if he held ownership when in truth they always were and still are my People. I hid my irritation and answered. “Yes.”

  Gregory leaned forward, hands braced on his knees. “We don’t have a lot of intel on the witches. They are a pretty secretive species, with good reason. What we do have, though reliable usually, comes mostly secondhand. Over the decades, our People have fostered relationships with carefully chosen law enforcement officers; and we do have a few of our own People in critical placements. That’s how we found out that just two weeks ago the bodies of four witches had been discovered.”

  Ri sucked in a sharp breath. “Four witches?”

  Gregory nodded. “It shocked me, too, Ri. It’s the highest kill number for a single case that I’ve heard about since the Salem Witch trials.”

  Alexis frowned and rubbed the back of her neck, as if she could rub away the tension that often knotted her muscles. “Were the witches drank down?”

  A grim look settled over Gregory’s face. “Drained then lashed to stakes and burned.”

  “Burned, like in the witch hunts?” Ri shifted uneasily in her chair. “Maybe it was humans then?”

  Gregory shot a wry look at Ri. “I'm not sure if that would be better or worse. We don’t need panicked humans mixed in with power hungry vampires. Be that as it may, their killers only allowed the fire to burn enough to send a gruesome message. They made sure it was put out before it got to the savaged necks of the witches.”

  With a bob of her head, Alexis accepted his findings. “A way to increase the fear factor. Sort of like saying—this is what you have to look forward to.”

  “I think there was more to it than simply feeding and threatening,” Gregory said.

  She raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “One woman wasn’t burned as badly as the other three. In the groin area, the femoral artery showed a needle puncture.”

  Alexis cocked her head. “I'm not following.”

  Setting my cup on the occasional table beside me, I linked my fingers together. “The femoral artery is a good place to draw blood easily. It’s the artery undertakers use to embalm bodies. What if vampires aren’t drinking the Supernaturals down? What if they are harvesting the blood instead?”

  The furrows between Alexis’ eyes deepened. “Harvesting the blood? Why? To drink later?”

  With a dip of my chin, I agreed. “Yes, to drink later; but I don’t believe the harvesters are the ones drinking it.” I locked my eyes on hers, watching for the least sign that she knew what happened to those witches. Of course, Gregory could have informed her that I knew about the witches. However, for some reason I didn’t think he had. “I think Helena is having it shipped to her.”

  Alexis’ eyes widened--genuine surprise or great acting? How I longed to unhear those words. I almost wished their whispers had not awakened me that night. Anger surged. Anger at my own weakness for such a wish.

  “Helena? Matriarchs are powerful. Why would Helena want to drink witch blood or Were blood?” Alexis asked.

  There were times that I forgot Alexis had not been born to our society. Times such as these reminded me of the chasm between us. “Unlike sorcerers, who were created by the gods and therefore have altered human blood, witches, Weres, and Shifters number among the Original People created by Great Goddess. They have Wild Blood. Since warlocks are witches who have gone renegade or rogue, they too have Wild Blood.”

  “Renegades are rogues, aren’t they?” Ri blurted.

  Ri’s mother had raised the young panther among humans and apparently told her little of the Supernatural world. Only after her mother’s murder, and Ri’s near death at the hands of Baskell, did Ri eventually hook up with her own kind. With a smile at the inquisitive cat, I shook my head. “A warlock may be a renegade in that she, or he, doesn’t belong to any coven and refuses to answer to the Witch Council of Seven. They’re basically misfits and loners. The Council usually leaves them alone. Warlocks who practice blood magic often become rogues; though not always. And before you ask…no, not all blood magic is the same. Those who practice Nyx Blood Magic using their own blood and flesh, or using the blood of animals mercifully killed, practice a benign blood magic.

  “Most practitioners of blood magic, however, use the blood of innocents and of those tortured to death. This is known as Pale Blood Magic because the victim is drained of power, of blood, and sometimes, their organs are removed as well. It is evil incarnate, but it produces a great deal more power to be reaped than Nyx Blood Magic. We don’t have any intel on warlocks because they fly under the radar, except for an occasional rogue who kills so blatantly that the Witch Council of Seven finds and then executes her or him.”

  Alexis set her cup on the mantle of the fireplace. “I hate to sound ignorant, but how is Wild Blood different from human blood? And do vampires have Wild Blood, too?”

  “You aren’t the only one sitting in a dark cave, Alexis,” Ri quipped about her own ignorance.

  I sighed softly. “This would have been part of your education if you had lived among your people, Ri.”

  “Yeah, my aunt said my education’s lacking. She’s already started teaching me stuff my mother never talked about.”

  “Back to Alexis’ earlier question. If a vampire drinks down a sorcerer, the vampire will experience a diluted version of that person’s power because the sorcerer is merely a magically gifted human with mundane blood. If a vampire drinks down a Were, a warlock or a witch, the Wild Blood carries the full strength of the victim’s magic and enhances the vampire’s own power. And, no, vampires do not have Wild Blood. We have a version of human blood altered by Goddess Artemis. Our blood is unique.”

  Ri’s mouth gaped then she whistled. “Wow, so vampires who drink Wild Blood are like some kinda hybrid on steroids. Can they shapeshift, too?”

  “Yes, and you wouldn’t be able to differentiate them from any other Were or shapeshifter. While they are in the stolen shape, they take on all the attributes of that species, including how they smell.”

  Brows drawn tight over her black-brown eyes, Alexis frowned. “Something tells me that the ability of the vampires to steal power by drinking down the victim coupled with the recent attacks is at the root of the witches and the Weres blowing off vampire ambassadors.”

  Gregory sighed. “Undoubtedly. Only there’s a lot more to it.”

  She jammed her hands in her jean pockets and leaned a shoulder against the front of the fireplace. “Enlighten me.”

  Gregory slanted a look my way.

  I reached over and took a sip of coffee; utilizing the time to gather my thoughts. “It’s a very long story, so I’ll give you the abbreviated version. At the Beginning, there was no need for Supernaturals to hide from humans. We lived in a
world where we celebrated our differences. Then the gods became jealous of Great Goddess and began whispering in the ears of human males. As you know, that resulted in Caine killing his sister, Abella. After he murdered Abella, he attempted to eradicate all of her followers. We called this time The Great Fall.”

  Legs unfolded, I rested my feet flat on the floor; hands linked in my lap. “During The Great Fall when Abella’s Children faced certain extinction, Artemis granted us vampirism.

  “What is less well known about The Great Fall is that Caine’s Children hated and envied all Supernaturals. Just as they hunted us--Abella’s Children--so they also hunted any being who had power. During the magical battles that ensued, witches sided with Abella’s Children. In retaliation, the gods created sorcerers.”

  I rose and paced over to the window. Staring out at the trees, I remembered my mother telling me about those years. “After years of fighting, most vampires and Supernaturals went underground. Without physical evidence of our continued existence, over time Caine’s Children mostly forgot about us. Sorcerers—though human--realized that those who held no power feared those who were different. They decided to go underground as well. ”

  Forehead leaning lightly against the cool glass, I recalled those decades of tentative peace. “Our world regained a semblance of balance. Vampires and Supernaturals interacted; some of us even intermarried. We built towns and fortresses, sailed the seas and farmed--each giving of their special talents and powers. We even schooled our children together. Sadly, not all vampires saw Supernaturals as their equals; this was especially true of a certain segment of Born Vampires. Not only did they despise Supernaturals, they railed against concealing our existence from humans.”

  Pivoting, I rested my hips against the window sill and let my eyes roam over those listening. “Prejudice is not a unique human trait; neither is envy or pride and that is how the seeds for The Time of Hunting were sown. Eventually, those discontented vampires rose in numbers and in power. They enlisted sorcerers in their cause then they attempted to takeover and rule the world. Born Vampires drank down humans and tossed them aside like empty bags. Greedy for the powers that other’s possessed, they drank down Supernaturals with abandon.”

  Ri held my gaze. “Just like now, not all vampires were like that.”

  “You’re right, Ri. Some of us weren’t like that, but war is ugly. It creates massive fear. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell friend from enemy.” I couldn’t bear to look at Gregory and Alexis, so I turned back toward the window. “The vampires who despised humans whipped up more fear then sent the humans against our enclaves as well as against the Were villages and the witches’ compounds.”

  Alexis’ jean shushed as she pushed off the fireplace and began pacing again. “What you’re saying is the witches and the Weres painted all vampires with the same bloody brush.”

  My shoulders sagged beneath the weight of what was certain to come. Like a coward, I refused to face her. “Yes, and who could blame them? All of us struggled desperately to survive, to save our children and our species.”

  Her boots squeaked across the hardwood floor. “Serena,” Alexis began, “you said the Born Vampires drank down humans and Supernaturals. Didn’t the Changed Vampires do it, too?”

  “Only Born Vampires can access the magic within the blood of others.”

  She shook her head. “That can’t be true. Arundia definitely accessed someone else’s magic. What he used against me was blood magic and I didn’t think vampire powers included the ability to use blood magic.”

  “Ordinarily, it doesn’t; not unless we drink down someone who owns that power.”

  “Arundia used it, Serena. I felt it as soon as I walked into his bedroom that night. Slimy and cold and...and wrong. And he’s a Changed Vampire.”

  Finally, I girded my heart with the bitter knowledge of Alexis’ duplicity and pivoted toward the room. “I had intended to have you and some of the Warriors research that question. There might be something in the scrolls and the books that you retrieved from the caves on the estate that would explain that phenomena.” I lifted my hands, palms upward. “But, we’ve all been rather busy.”

  “Let me get this straight...in the old days,” Ri began, “only Born Vampires drank down others with powers?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “The blood from magical people, whether their heritage was human or it came from the Original Peoples, could actually harm some Changed Vampires. For others, it fed their hunger without adding anything to their powers. The real problem, back then, resulted from the sheer numbers of Born Vampires.”

  Vertical lines appeared between Ri’s eyes. “Can a vampire be drained down and kinda like remade by another vampire?”

  One brow hiked high, I stared at the werepanther. “Yes, that’s possible. Rather risky because sometimes it won’t take and the Changed vampire will die.”

  Nervously, Ri licked her lips. “What if...what if a really old and powerful Born vampire remade a Changed vampire? And what if the old vampire’s ability to access magic from a Supernatural’s blood was so strong that it transferred to the one they Changed? Is that possible?”

  Horrified comprehension slapped me. For a moment I felt dizzied by it. “Why didn’t that occur to me?”

  “In the midst of a battle, we don’t always see the reinforcements charging over the hill,” Gregory rumbled. “I am as guilty as you of being unable to see that coming.”

  Alexis pulled her hands from her pockets and rubbed her arms as if she suddenly suffered from a chill. “You think Helena remade Arundia?”

  My hands fisted at my sides. “If anyone would be strong enough to pass on the Power to access the magic in blood, it would be Helena. The ability to extract power from a Supernatural’s blood is especially strong in her.”

  “Okay, so he’s able to access the magic in other people’s blood. Why couldn’t he be stockpiling the blood for himself?” Alexis asked.

  I sank into the soft cushions on the couch. “Maybe he isn’t the only one draining the Supernaturals. Maybe he isn’t Helena’s only agent.”

  Something in my voice must have alerted Alexis to my suspicions. Her hands fisted at her sides and she slitted her eyes as she glared at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I met her hot gaze. With a negligent shrug, I answered, “Just what I said.”

  Her eyes darted away. “Do you really believe Helena is drinking that blood?”

  “I’d be a fool to believe otherwise,” I calmly replied.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and squared off with me. “You can’t fight her, if that’s what she’s doing. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  An Arctic coldness encased my words. “That is not your decision.”

  She licked her lips as if they had suddenly gone dry. “When...when is the Challenge?”

  Was it possible she regretted her treachery? I shoved away the futile wish. “The Matriarch’s Council won’t meet for a few more months. They have to judge the worthiness of my Challenge then schedule it. They’ll notify me when they’ve scheduled the fight.”

  “Great Goddess, Serena.” Alexis stumbled over to a wingback chair across from the couch and slumped in it. Elbows propped on her knees, she buried her face in her hands.

  Ri chewed her bottom lip. “Can you help my People stop these vampires?”

  “I’m doing everything in my power to stop the vampires, Ri; not only for the sake of your People, but for the sake of my People as well.”

  Her eyes brightened. “We could share what we’re doing and maybe coordinate some operations. With the vampires and the werepanthers together, we could hunt these bloodsuckers down and destroy every one of them.”

  I slowly shook my head and watched the light fade from her eyes. “We can’t. Your People won’t join forces with me. They won’t even meet with me to discuss our common enemy.”

  Alexis swiveled toward Ri. “You are going to have to convince the leader of your People to speak with u
s. We need to form an alliance.”

  Defeat bowed Ri’s shoulders. “They won’t listen to me. That’s why I came here. I thought...I thought they’d listen to Serena for sure.”

  “Why do you think they won’t listen to you?” Alexis leaned toward the werepanther as if willing her to see her own folly; to agree that she could convince her Elders to meet with us.

  Ri caught her bottom lip between her teeth then huffed out a resigned sigh. “I’m an outsider. I didn’t grow up among them. If Serena’s ambassador couldn’t get them to agree to a meeting, what makes you think I can?”

  Alexis held the young woman’s eyes. “Serena’s ambassador didn’t lose a friend to rogue vampires.”

  Chapter 5

  Alexis Night Runner

  After the meeting with Ri, the day dragged interminably. Finally, the sun sunk into the ocean, leaving a smear of red across the horizon. As the sky deepened to indigo I slumped down on a log at the cliff’s edge. The coming night revealed the stars reluctantly, like it was unwrapping each one and setting it just so. A sliver of darkness ate away at one side of the silvery moon, signaling the inevitable dying of the moon’s light.

  Was mine and Serena’s relationship like the moon—simply a phase of our lives that was now dying? I scrubbed my fist over my chest, wished I could scrub away the hurt and the betrayal that had lodged in my heart. The walk had offered no consolation; no sudden epiphany. What I needed to do laid plainly before me, yet I could barely think about it without falling apart. This wouldn’t do. I had to keep it together.

  I plodded into the sleeping house and made my way to the staircase. How often as I built this house had I stopped and stared out at the meadow and dreamed of Serena walking through these rooms with me? Those dreams mocked me with every step. The door to our apartment loomed ahead. With a reluctant hand, I grasped the cool knob then twisted and pushed the door open. Taking a deep breath to fortify myself, I entered the small living room.