Blood of Troy
Author: Claire Andrews
Date: 2023-08-01 00:00:00+00:00
Description: The sequel to Daughter of Sparta thrusts warrior Daphne and her love interest, the Olympian god Apollo, into the middle of the Trojan War in this epic YA fantasy reimagining of Greek mythology. A year after saving the powers of Olympus by defeating Nyx, the Goddess of Darkness, Daphne is haunted by still-looming threats, her complicated feelings for the god Apollo, and the promise she made to the Olympian gods that she would help them again when they called upon her. When their command finally comes, it is deceptively simple: secure herself a spot as one of Queen Helen’s guards. A war is comin
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Rights: Copyright 2018 Nicola Claire. All rights reserved.

Blood Enthralled

Blood Enchanted Book Three

Nicola Claire

Copyright © 2018, Nicola Claire

All Rights Reserved

© Cover Art by Cora Graphics

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

ISBN: 978-0-473-46228-4

Created with Vellum

Contents

About the Author

Free Download

Also By Nicola Claire

Definitions

1. I Am The Firstborn

2. The New Mhachkay Era

3. End This

4. We Are Not Kindred

5. Still Unexplained

6. Well, That’s Unfortunate

7. This Was Going To Be A Mess

8. It Made Me Mad

9. Lights Out

10. You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

11. He Didn’t Know

12. I Have No Doubt

13. Five Hundred Years In The Making

14. The Boogeyman Under His Bed

15. Now The Crowd Went Wild

16. Let Her

17. Damn It

18. And They Have Chosen

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About the Author

Nicola Claire lives in beautiful Taupo, New Zealand with her husband and two young boys.

She's tried her hand at being a paramedic, bank teller and medical sales representative, (not all necessarily in that order), but her love of writing keeps calling her back.

She has a passion for all things suspenseful, spiced up with a good dollop of romance, as long as they include strong characters - alpha males and capable females - and worlds which although make-believe are really quite believable in the end.

There's nothing better than getting caught up in a compelling, intriguing and romantic book.

When she's not writing or reading, she's out on her family boat at Lake Taupo, teaching her young boys to fish, showing them the beauty that surrounds them in nature and catching some delicious trout for dinner.

Creating rich worlds with dynamic characters and unexpected twists that shock and awe has been pure bliss for this author. And just as well, because there's a lot more story yet to tell...

For more information:

www.nicolaclairebooks.com
nicola@nicolaclairebooks.com

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Also By Nicola Claire

Kindred Series

Kindred

Blood Life Seeker

Forbidden Drink

Giver of Light

Dancing Dragon

Shadow's Light

Entwined With The Dark

Kiss Of The Dragon

Dreaming Of A Blood Red Christmas (Novella)

* * *

Mixed Blessing Mystery Series

Mixed Blessing

Dark Shadow

Rogue Vampire (Coming Soon)

* * *

Sweet Seduction Series

Sweet Seduction Sacrifice

Sweet Seduction Serenade

Sweet Seduction Shadow

Sweet Seduction Surrender

Sweet Seduction Shield

Sweet Seduction Sabotage

Sweet Seduction Stripped

Sweet Seduction Secrets

Sweet Seduction Sayonara

* * *

Elemental Awakening Series

The Tempting Touch Of Fire

The Soothing Scent Of Earth

The Chilling Change Of Air

The Tantalising Taste Of Water

The Eternal Edge Of Aether (Novella)

* * *

H.E.A.T. Series

A Flare Of Heat

A Touch Of Heat

A Twist Of Heat (Novella)

A Lick Of Heat (Coming Soon)

* * *

Citizen Saga

Elite

Cardinal

Citizen

Masked (Novella)

Wiped

* * *

Scarlet Suffragette Series

Fearless

Breathless

Heartless

* * *

Blood Enchanted Series

Blood Enchanted

Blood Entwined

Blood Enthralled

* * *

44 South Series

Southern Sunset

Southern Storm

Southern Strike (Coming Soon)

* * *

Lost Time Series

Losing Time

Making Time

Stitching Time (Coming Soon)

* * *

The Sector Fleet

Accelerating Universe

Apparent Brightness

Right Ascension

Zenith Point

* * *

The Summer O’Dare Mysteries

Chasing Summer (Coming Soon)

For:

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Definitions

Accord – A blood binding agreement, often between two parties of equal power; cannot be broken.

Álfheimr – (Fey) Faerie. Home to the Fey.

Cadı - (Turkish) Witch

Canım - (Turkish) My dear.

Command – A directive given by a Master vampire to one of his line. It requires Sanguis Vitam in order to enforce obedience. It cannot be ignored.

Dökkálfa – (Fey) The Dark Fey.

Dolaşık - (Turkish) Entwined.

Dream Walk – A Nosferatin power, enabling the Nosferatin to appear in a different location. The Dream Walker is invisible, cannot be sensed or smelled, and only heard if they talk when in this realm. They can, however, interact and be harmed. The only exception to a Dream Walker's invisibility is another Nosferatin. A very rare power.

Erbörü - (Turkish) Shapeshifter native to Ottoman Empire.

Elska – (Fey) Literally love. An elska is a mœðr. A member of the fey can only ever have one elska in their lives. They are in tune with the Light or ljós within their matched fairy and potentially will become their one true love.

Fīfrildi – (Fey) A type of winged fairy. Yellow Dökkálfa Fey.

Final death – The true death of a Nosferatu. There can be no survival from the final death.

Glaze – The ability to influence another. It requires direct eye contact and Sanguis Vitam to insert the influence. Usually a Nosferatu skill, allowing a vampire to influence a human.

Grey Lords – The Dökkálfa law keepers.

Günaha - (Turkish) Temptation.

Hanımefendi - (Turkish) Consort to a Mhachkay lord.

Hyrða – (Fey) Fairy guards. Green Dökkálfa Fey.

Iunctio – (Latin) The Nosferatu connection and governing power. All vampires are connected to one another via this supernatural information exchange highway; enabling sharing of rules, locations of safe havens and hot spots to avoid. It is powered by both Nosferatu and Nosferatin Sanguis Vitam, but is operated by the Nosferatu in Auckland. There are twelve members of the Iunctio council, headed by the Champion. The Iunctio is tasked with policing all supernaturals throughout the world.

Joining – The marriage of a kindred Nosferatu with a kindred Nosferatin. Upon joining the Nosferatu will double their Sanguis Vitam and the Nosferatin will come into their powers, but for the Nosferatin, their powers will only manifest after reaching maturity; the age of 25. The joining will also make the Nosferatin immortal. A symbiotic relationship, should one member of the joining die, the other will too. Without a joining, the Nosferatin would die one month past their 25th birthday. The joining also increases the power of the Iunctio and Nosferatu as a whole.

Kafinefendi - (Turkish) Queen

Kan büyülü - (Turkish) Enchanted blood.

Kindred – A Nosferatu or Nosferatin sacred match, a suitable partner for a joining. To be a kindred there must exist a connection between the Nosferatu and Nosferatin; only those suitably compatible will be kindred to the other.

Kral - (Turkish) King.

Line – The family of a master vampire, all members of which have been turned by the master, or accepted via blood bond into the fold.

Ljósálfar – (Fey) The Light Fey.

Lux Lucis Tribuo – (Latin) The Giver of Light. The third part of the Prophecy. The Lux Lucis Tribuo is charged with balancing the Dark in Dark vampires out with their Light.

Master – A Nosferatu with the highest level of Sanguis Vitam. There are five levels of Master, from level five – the lowest on the Sanguis Vitam scale, to level one – the highest on the Sanguis Vitam scale. Only level one Masters can head a line of their own. Some Nosferatu may never become Masters.

Master of the City – A level one Master in control of a territory; a city.

Mœðr – (Fey) Mother or mate. A human capable of parenting fey offspring.

Muska - (Turkish) Black magic.

Norm – A human unaware of the supernaturals who walk the Earth. They also do not have any supernatural abilities themselves.

Nosferatin – (Nosferat–een) - A vampire hunter by birth. Nosferatin were once of the same ilk as Nosferatu, descendants from the same ancestors, or God. The Nosferatin broke off and turned towards the Light. Their sole purpose is to bring the Nosferatu back from the Dark, this can include dispatching them, bringing them the final death, when they cannot be saved. They are now a mix of human and Nosferatin genetics.

Nosferatu – A vampire. The Nosferatu turned towards the Dark, when their kin, the Nosferatin turned towards the Light. They require blood to survive and can be harmed by UV exposure and silver. They do not need to breathe or have a heartbeat. They are considered the undead.

Nothus - (Latin) An illegal combination of two species, for example Nosferatin - Nosferatu mix. Considered illegitimate by the Iunctio and a kill-on-sight order stands for any Nothus uncovered.

Ordular - (Turkish) Armies

Píka - (Fey) A gift or prize, usually a virgin girl.

Prohibitum Bibere – (Latin) The Forbidden Drink. The second part of the Prophecy. The Prohibitum Bibere is a siren to the Dark vampires throughout the world, calling their Darkness towards the Light.

Pull – The Nosferatin sense of evil. Guides a hunter to a Dark vampire; sometimes, but not always a rogue, who is about to feed off an innocent.

Rogue – A vampire no longer controlled by a master, full of evil and Darkness, feeding indiscriminately and uncontrolled.

Rüya Dokumacı - (Turkish) Dream Weaver. A Dark Nosferatu talent allowing the vampires to weave illusions around his prey to keep them compliant.

Sanguis Vitam – (Latin) The Blood Life or life force of a Nosferatu. It represents the power they possess. There are varying degrees of Sanguis Vitam.

Sanguis Vitam Cupitor – (Latin) The Blood Life Seeker. The first part of the Prophecy. The Sanguis Vitam Cupitor can sense and find all Dark vampires throughout the world.

Savaşçı - (Turkish) Warrior.

Sigillum – (Latin) A permanent mark of possession.

Silah - (Turkish) Weapon.

Taniwha – (Maori) New Zealand Shape Shifter. Dangerous, predatory beings.

Teşekkür ederim - (Turkish) Thank you.

Turned – The action of changing a human into a vampire.

Vampyre – Old term for vampire; used rarely in modern language.

Veðr - (Fey) Wind Fey, small Dökkálfa creatures that live in trees.

Vinr – (Fey) Vanguard. The first of the fey to cross a portal. Their job is to ensure it is safe for other fey to follow.

“Together we are stronger. Apart we are weak.”

Hakan Bahar

“Two hearts. Two souls. And now two swords.”

Éliane Durand

1

I Am The Firstborn

The shadows had eyes and they were staring right at us. Considering we’d only just stepped through an almost impossible to detect portal from Faerie, I didn’t particularly like this development.

The Sultan Ahmed Mosque in Istanbul surrounded us. Goran and Ediz to one side of Hakan and myself. Bodies alert, postures reminiscent of soldiers under attack, eyes darting from shadowed corner to shadowed corner.

Nothing stirred, just the occasional dust flurry as heavily salted air from the nearby Aegean Sea swirled around the remains of the holy courtyard. The mosque glinted blue-grey in the pre-dawn light, the column I’d seen destroyed in Hakan’s zilant realm also destroyed here on Earth.

What sort of power did the Mhachkay possess?

I pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on our surroundings. The mosque appeared empty, save for us. The air heavy with the scents of a waking city. Sea salt drifted on the air. The gentle clanking of fishing vessels accompanying it. The shadows brightened. Nothing moved.

If it hadn’t have been for the ribbons inside my stomach, the psychic talent I’d acquired since maturing at the age of twenty-five, I would have thought we were alone.

But the shadows had eyes, they told me.

Goran snapped the portal shut behind us, the scent of ozone dissipating on the air. Ediz growled low, shook his body out like a dog would after having gotten itself wet, and glared at the mosque in all its crumbling glory.

Turkey, much like of the rest of the world, suffered greatly in the aftermath of the vampires disclosing their existence to humanity. Riots had ensued and eventually been put down. But even in Iunctio free Istanbul, there had been damage. The mosque was a broken shell of its former glory and a reminder to humans daily that monsters did, in fact, exist.

“Lady Ellie?” Goran whispered, likely sensing my unease. Fairies were empathic like that. Or the Dark King’s guard was simply observant.

I rolled my eyes at the Hyrða’s inability to call me by my given name, but returned my gaze to the surroundings immediately. I noticed absently that Goran had glamoured himself. He still looked buff and frightening, in an I’m-going-to-kick-your-butt-and-eat-you kind of way, but he was no longer green and his teeth looked normal.

Their duplicity astounded.

“We are not alone,” I said.

“No,” Hakan agreed. He didn’t seem alarmed. But the ribbons were not so dismissive of the threat that hung in the air.

“Show yourselves!” I shouted, slipping the Kilij into my hand. I’m not sure why I chose Hakan’s sword, but at the last moment, the ribbons had directed my hand to the Mhachkay sword’s hilt at my hip and not the Svante’s sheath down my spine.

Hakan let his eyes wash over the curved blade, and then he stepped forward, placing himself in front of me but just to the side as if he knew blocking my view right now could prove fatal.

“I wondered how long it would take,” he murmured. I realised he’d been speaking Turkish. The fact that I understood his words made me blink. Was this because of the Entwining? No. I’d had to ask what the word for warrior was. Was it because we’d shared marks? I’d never heard of that happening before.

No, the ribbons said. Sex, they whispered and proceeded to show me the three rounds of mind-blowingly good sex we’d had before leaving the fairy bedroom in Dökkálfa.

I closed my eyes, but that didn’t help; the ribbons were part of me now, a part that came from deep inside. I shook my head, gripped my sword tighter, and threw my thoughts at Hakan. Magic sex? Is that how the Mhachkay work?

His lips twitched, but he didn't turn to look at me. Instead, he kept his eyes on the shadows as they slowly brightened.

Magic sex, then. Cute. Hakan snorted, the sound muted, but I’d heard it.

A figure emerged from the closest shadows; perhaps drawn by Hakan’s unusual-for-him behaviour. Bey Hakan Bahar was not the snorting kind of vampire. Tanned skinned, near black hair, leather straps wrapped around the newcomer’s arms, blood-darkened armour protecting a broad chest, riveted and segmented leather strips covering his hips and thighs in a skirt. Beneath it all, gold flowing robes swished.

I stared at Hakan’s bare legs under his own Mhachkay warrior garb. He hadn’t bothered with the girly dress.

“Hayatim,” he murmured, so low I was sure no one else had heard. “You are not helping.”

“Just an observation,” I muttered. “Who is he?”

“Our King.” He’d said the word in Turkish. Kral. This vampire who walked towards us was King of the Mhachkay. How was he related to Hakan?

“Nephew,” the King said. Maybe he could read my mind, too, then. Not a pleasant thought.

“No,” Hakan murmured and then louder greeted the King. “Uncle. You have risen.”

“You think you are the only one to have been awoken by the Enchanted.” His eyes landed on me. Then shifted back to Hakan as if I didn't really matter.

I arched my brow and cocked a hip, letting the Kilij swing in lazy circles from my seemingly loose grasp.

The King’s eyes tracked the movement reluctantly.

Six leather-clad warriors stepped out of the shadows. None of them wore fancy-arsed robes either.

I stilled the Kilij. The guards stopped advancing. I swung the sword again, because, come on! Of course, I’d test my ‘power’. The guards stepped forward in a synchronised march.

The Kilij came to rest, point tip to chipped tiled floor. Everyone stopped moving.

“Interesting,” I said into the silence.

“You have Entwined her blood,” the King declared, ignoring me completely. “Good. No Enchanted should be left uncontrolled.”

Excuse me?

The ribbons told me to remain silent. I seethed internally at them.

“We always knew this would happen,” the King added. I waited for Hakan to talk, but my warrior said nothing. “But now we are here; we must take what was promised.”

Oh, that didn't sound good, did it?

“There were two?” the King asked.

“Yes,” Hakan replied steadily. His body thrummed. He was fuming, I realised. And wasn’t it interesting that I could read that in his immobile and apparently relaxed stance? Clearly, the King couldn’t.

“Where is he?” the Kral asked.

Hopefully miles away from here. I let a little of my Light out and tried to sense Luc’s and Alain’s Dark. If my brother and Papa’s spymaster were nearby, they were cloaked. Or they hadn’t survived crossing a portal onto Earth. I tried not to let the worry show on my impassive façade. The recently joined kindred pair could be anywhere. Outside of my ability to seek them with my Light.

I could only hope.

“You will contain this one while my guards search out the other,” the King proclaimed. “For now, I will not mete out punishment. You are of royal blood, after all,” he sneered. “But cross me again, Hakan Iskender Bahar, and I will have my pound of flesh.” His eyes landed on me once more, the implication obvious.

He could fucking try. I stared back, letting him see my defiance. Letting him see I could hold his gaze - well, sort of - and not fear being glazed by it.

His eyes flashed candy apple, then settled into a glacial blue. His fists clenched. He showed too much emotion.

Been asleep too long, old man. I smirked. Hakan laughed.

The air hung heavy.

“What is so funny?” the Kral demanded.

“My hanımefendi,” Hakan said. “She thinks you’ve lost your touch. I agree with her.”

The King flashed fangs. I snorted.

“Really?” I said voice raised only slightly. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Discipline your Enchanted,” the King growled. “Or I will do it for you.”

Ediz roared, bursting into his Erbörü form on a hiss that sent goosebumps down my arms. Six Erbörü stepped out of the shadows and crouched by the guards. Razor sharp claws clicked on tile, fur-covered arms bulged with barely restrained muscle, their muzzle-like maw dripping saliva.

Diplomacy had always been my downfall. I raised the Kilij. Hakan’s fangs came down. Goran stepped forward, flanking my free side. The Hyrða carried two blazing Fey swords.

So much for glamour.

“You think me unprepared, nephew?” the Kral snapped. “Maybe it is you who has lost their touch.”

The King snapped his fingers and shuffling and scraping followed. Then out of the shadows flowed two more guards, their gauntleted hands wrapped around the collar of an unconscious figure. Two feet dragged through the dirt. A mop of dirty blond hair stuck out of a lolling head. Muscular arms hung limply between the Mhachkay goons.

Arms made strong from constant use when legs no longer worked to move you.

“Travis,” I muttered, taking a step forward, moving to pass Hakan until he stopped me with an arm around my waist.

“Wait,” he murmured.

“You recognise him?” the King asked. Of course, I recognised him. He was my friend. My human friend. “He has told us much about the world as it is now. About your father.” I felt sick.

Sweat beaded my brow, my eyes all for Travis. The last time I’d seen him had been in his hideout in Auckland, sitting in his wheelchair before his high-tech equipment. The last time I’d seen the hideout it had been a crater in the ground.

“You took him,” I growled. “You worked with that fucking fairy.” The fairy who had initially abducted me and stolen my Sigillum’s power.

The King smiled. “War is never pretty, Enchanted. The first lesson you shall learn as our silah. One must do things during war that one does not necessarily like.”

Silah, my mind told me, that new understanding of Turkish proving helpful, meant ‘weapon.’

My eyes flicked to Hakan’s. The King laughed.

“You haven’t told her? Oh, how delightful. Allow me.” Hakan growled. The King held up a hand and a sword tip pierced into Travis’ neck. My old friend groaned and bucked, but the sword only dug in deeper.

I clenched my fists but remained where I was at Hakan’s side. My Light thrummed; its presence was reassuring.

I had to time this just right.

“At the moment of our imprisonment,” the Mhachkay King said, “we were granted one boon for our compliance. Can you guess what that might have been?”

I wasn’t up on my Mhachkay history. There’d barely been time to get to know Hakan, let alone seek answers to the many questions I had regarding his unique vampire heritage. I knew the Mhachkay heralded from the Ottoman Empire. I knew my father and the ancient two soul beings had a strained relationship. I also knew the Ottoman Empire had invaded Wallachia where my father had gone to when he’d first been Turned over five hundred years ago.

There was a story there, a violent one, but I was not privy to it.

I am a Durand. I never show fear. Or that I’m behind the eight-ball. I bared my teeth and snarled.

“Feisty,” the Kral said. “How enchanting.” Prick. “No guesses?” he added. “Then let me enlighten you.” He was really getting on my last nerve. “We were promised the next Enchanted. For our acquiescence and internment the Mhachkay Kral” - he pointed to himself with a smirk - “would Entwine his blood with the first born since the dark ages.”

The King stared at me.

“Are you the firstborn, Enchanted?”

I wasn’t. Luc was. By about a minute.

I reached out to Hakan with my mind and found his open and waiting. A connection so grounding I felt like the world could blow apart, and neither of us would shift an inch from where we were standing.

Ready? he asked as if he knew exactly what I had planned and backed me completely.

What had he said? You alone are my match in this and all worlds.

Well, he was my match, too.

“Yes,” I said to the King of the awoken Mhachkay. “I am the firstborn.”

And then I struck.

2

The New Mhachkay Era

Light blazed in the crumbling courtyard. Hisses and roars rent the still dawn air. Swords met in a clang of ringing metal. Sanguis Vitam washed across the cracked stone floor and pounded against my shields.

There were more of them than us, and they had Travis.

But the Kral had underestimated me.

I spun through the air, shards of debris floating all around me, little pinpricks of pain as they slashed at my cheeks. I ignored the distracting sensation and concentrated on the Nosferatin spin. Wielding Light and spinning at the same time wasn’t such a hard thing to do, but doing so when surrounded by a dozen horror-like shapeshifting monsters and their evil overlord with his crew of sycophants was a struggle.

Mhachkay reached out to grab me. One even connected the tip of his fingers to my hair. I felt a tug; my spin went off track, and then I landed on the rubble-strewn ground, tucking into a roll. I was up and spinning again in the next instant, but the Mhachkay were getting more determined to reach me.

The fact that my Light had only dazed them left me confused. I’d packed a punch into that blast, and yet they were still standing. Some had lost their balance but quickly regained it. Some had shaken their heads as if clearing a fog from their vision. The Kral had held motionless throughout it all.

I could hear Ediz growling, the growl tapering off to a hiss at the end. I could see Goran dancing through the throng on light feet, spinning and dodging and offering up a gauntleted fist to vampire cheeks. The fire blazing on his twin Fey swords caught my eye. But it was Hakan, in full warrior garb and mode, that truly stole all attention.

He was magnificent in action; fighting four of the Kral’s vampires at once. He ducked and dodged, and twirled out of arms’ reach, then rolled and delivered a cutting slice across the stomach of one. The hilt of his sword swept back in the next heartbeat, connecting with the nose of a vampire who had the audacity to come up unseen behind him.

But there were so many. Four of us. At least twelve of the Mhachkay now. And each one commanded an Erbörü. I hadn’t realised the relationship between Mhachkay and Erbörü was so formal. Hakan had called Georgia my familiar. I’d dismissed the term at the time as I’d had more pressing things to consider. But perhaps to the Mhachkay familiars were normal.

I didn’t have time to contemplate the thought further as I landed in the middle of three Mhachkay of my own. Spinning is a handy little Nosferatin trick during battle. But no spin is indefinite, and mine had been miscalculated due to the distraction of Hakan fighting.

I growled low in the back of my throat, calling myself every name I could think of under the sun in my mind. Which made me check the location of the sun now. It was peeking above the horizon. We had only a few minutes to hold out before the sun would do its damage. Mhachkay magic or not, I didn’t think the ancient vampires could withstand sun indefinitely.

Had we been in Faerie, perhaps it would have been different. But we were on my turf now.

I blocked a sword blow from the side and swept out with my free hand, the one now holding a silver stake, with the other. Part of me wished I was holding my Svante and not the Kilij, but the ribbons twisted and turned and told me to keep fighting with my vampire’s sword. I wondered if its place on Hakan’s ceremonial weapons wall had meant more than I realised.

A Mhachkay parried a thrust of the Kilij, his eyes trailing over the blade and hilt and then flicking to my face. It was enough to blast him with my Light and then slice across his neck with the sword he so admired.

I spun and faced another, who stepped back and with a flick of his fingers, sent his Erbörü familiar into the fight. Bastard. Not that I’m incapable of fighting shapeshifters, but even I tried to keep the number of confrontations in the arena back home to a minimum when it came to the furred and fanged variety.

The Erbörü let out an earsplitting growl and then swiped at me with his razor-sharp claws. The rising sun glinted off green eyes, caught the drool that dribbled out of his mouth, and the blood that coated his claws now. I realised he’d connected. I hadn’t even felt it, but I felt the sting now.

I didn’t show any weakness. Now more than ever my mother’s mantra would mean the difference between winning or losing this fight. We circled each other. The Mhackay who I’d landed in the middle of all stood back and watched, no doubt expecting a quick fight. I let my gaze wash over them, the extended battle, the Kral watching with hunger in his eyes. And then I smiled.

The Erbörü hissed and gathered himself in a crouch, ready to pounce.

Ediz never gave himself away like that. If he were hunting something, like he’d hunted my friend Georgia back in Auckland, then he’d simply throw himself at his target without stopping to think his actions out. This Erbörü was either out of practice or more circumspect than Ediz. Either would not serve him well in this fight.

My fingers flexed around the hilt of the Kilij, the ribbons twisting and turning in anticipation of the oncoming fight, and then I stepped forward.

And the Erbörü split into three.

I was so stunned that I stopped all forward motion. I blinked at the sight of triplicate monsters before me, expecting them to move in unison, or maybe for me to wake up and feel lightheaded but the triple vision to subside. Instead, I received a raking of claws down my left side, making me lose my grip on the stake.

As the stake hit the tiles, I spun away. I hadn’t planned the flight; I’d just reacted. Something I hadn’t done since I was young and inexperienced in battle. Alain would be appalled if he saw me now. I shoulder charged a Mhackkay. Kicked out at an Erbörü. Hip bumped something else. None of it was pretty. All of it looked desperate.

Fear coated the back of my mouth.

Hakan roared.

Ediz hissed.

The Kral laughed.

And then something snapped around my neck from behind.

I landed in an undignified mess at the feet of a Mhachkay vampire, who looked down at me and sneered. I blinked up at him, my free hand already testing the collar at my neck, my other hand, the one still holding the Kilij, raised as if I could fight him from my inferior position.

The Mhachkay stared at the sword and then lifted arrogant eyes to my face.

“He lets you handle his blade?” he said in a smooth voice that belied the frightening look on his face.

I smirked. I was in no position to smirk. I did it anyway.

“It’s a nice blade,” I said. “Long, hard, big. More than you could handle, vampyre.”

He leaned down, his eyes dark and narrowed, and then backhanded me across the face.

Why I was surprised, I don’t know. This was battle. I’d lost and then smart-mouthed the victor. Anything goes.

But I hadn’t expected the Mhachkay to mistreat their Enchanted.

I wanted to look toward Hakan. To see if he was still fighting. To see if the man I had entwined my blood with was like the monster before me. I did nothing. Just held the dark-eyed stare of the Mhachkay before me with defiant eyes.

“Good work, Ekrem,” the Kral said as he approached. He was speaking in Turkish again. “We will have this contained before the sun fully rises.”

Ediz roared in the background. I was afraid his roar was one of failure. I couldn’t hear Hakan or Goran. And from where I sat, surrounded by Mhachkay and Erbörü, I could not see them fighting either.

“You spin well, Enchanted,” the Kral said. “But you have not met our kind before. It was inevitable that you would falter.”

I had faltered. One look at the multiplying Erbörü and I’d stumbled; lost all semblance of warrior calm and thrown the battle. I was ashamed. I was furious. I let the King see only my rage.

The world narrowed to just him and me. A long-lost King from a long-lost time and the daughter of the Champion. I lifted my chin, aware of the sensation of the collar tightening. I didn’t know yet what it did, but as my ribbons had gone quiet and I couldn’t sense any Dark around me, I was reasonably sure it had locked down my talents and possibly even my Light. I hadn’t reached for it yet; I’d been zapped before when banded in Álfheimr. I wasn’t about to weaken my already weakened position by writhing around on the Sultan Ahmed Mosque’s floor.

But I had been raised in the cutthroat arena of vampire politics. I knew when to show no fear, never give an inch, and always stay on guard.

This vampire would get nothing of weakness from me.

“You have made a grave mistake,” I said, voice cutting. “Do you realise who I am?”

“An Enchanted. The first Enchanted born since the end of Mhachkay rule. Ours,” he said with finality.

“I am the daughter of the Champion,” I announced, sitting straighter, glaring daggers from my eyes. “The daughter of the Prophesied. The goddaughter of the Enforcer. The goddaughter of the…”

The Kral flicked his wrist and Travis was thrown at his feet, right before my eyes.

My friend stirred. Bruises blossoming all over his pale skin. His legs lay in a twisted, crooked mess. His chest rose on a startled breath of air. He lifted his head. Blurry eyes blinked at me.

“El?” he groaned.

I made to move toward him, and the collar tightened. I tried to suck in air, but air was denied me. I clawed at the restriction around my throat, my nails scraping skin, my mouth open on a silent snarl. Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them away frantically even as I struggled to free myself from the collar’s grasp.

The Kral leaned down and wrapped his meaty fist around Travis’ hair, lifting my friend up off the ground as if he were nothing more than a slab of meat. A blade appeared in his hand; one similar to the Kilij I’d been using of Hakan’s. So similar in fact, I wondered for a moment if it was his.

The King brought the sharp edge of the weapon against my friend’s exposed throat.

Travis’ wide eyes met mine.

“Ellie,” he said, and there was knowledge there, history filled with horror. And acceptance. He knew he was going to die.

I stopped struggling with the collar and reached out to him. My arm outstretched, my fingers grasping only air. Tears blurred my eyes. But I saw everything. I saw it all.

I saw the forgiveness in Travis’ eyes. I saw the determination in the King’s. I saw the blade as it sliced through my friend’s neck, spilling blood.

The Mhachkay hissed. Fangs which had retracted upon my capture extended again. Red eyes flicked toward the human. The sweet scent of life-giving blood wafted on the air.

Hakan roared in fury. I couldn’t see him. All I could see was Travis McLeod. Body battered and broken, skin pallid and bluing. Blood pouring out of a neck wound delivered by a Mhachkay.

I didn’t think. I didn’t consider what my actions would mean for me. I didn’t hesitate.

I reached for my Light and screamed my loss and heartache.

Travis had been a friend for years. Someone I could turn to for more than just his tech skills and cyber knowledge. He was my arms dealer. My spymaster. My bolthole when I needed to escape the restrictions placed on me by my Champion father. He knew more about me than any human did. Than most supernaturals did also. And he accepted me in spite of it all.

He was my friend. Despite his history. Despite his very warranted hatred of vampires. He was my friend.

And I’d killed him by association.

My Light swelled and swelled and swelled, but it did not burst out of me. I felt like my insides were burning, sizzling, zapping. Pain lanced through me, but I couldn’t truly feel it. All I felt was heartache. And loss. Such loss.

Hatred consumed me. Anger ruled me. My body was coming apart from the inside out. Sounds became distorted. The world around me disappeared. Just me and my building Light.

And the Mhachkay King before me.

I leapt to my feet. All thought of breathing forgotten. I didn’t need to breathe when I couldn’t die. As long as Hakan lived, I’d live. We’d entwined. Mhachkay magic would serve me well even if I found myself despising those who wielded it now.

I connected with the startled King and sent us flying. Vampires snarled. Erbörü hissed. The Mosque shuddered as we sailed through the air and crashed into the side of the building. Debris rained down on our heads, but I kept on punching. His face. His stomach. His kidneys. His two fucking hearts.

He tried to fight me back, but whether his recent awakening had left him weakened, I didn’t know. But my fists connected and my nails tore skin, and my teeth found their mark.

I am not a vampire. I’m only half of one. Born of a Nosferatu and a Nosferatin, my brother and I are unique. At least, for our time we’re unique. If Enchanted existed in the Mhachkay’s time, then so be it. They still did not know a damn thing about me.

I am loyal. I am fierce. I never show fear, and I never give up. I keep fighting. I am a Durand.

I bit and kicked and hit.

My second stake found the palm of my hand. The sun now rising above the Mosque glinted off the Egyptian silver. The tip found the Kral’s chest, right above his blackened heart. It pierced skin. Smoke wafted off his burning flesh. I smiled.

And then the fucking bastard turned into a bird. A big-arse bird. Not like Hakan’s owl, but something equally as unbelievable. As unreal. The vulture-like creature screeched at me. Then leaned forward as if to peck my eyes out.

Hell no was that gonna happen.

I rolled back. The bird’s sharp beak missed me by a millimetre. I crouched before the Kral in his Mhachkay heart and soul form and cocked my head.

“Ugly son-of-a-bitch, eh?” I murmured. The vulture shook itself.

I was aware of the battle still raging behind me. Of Hakan and Ediz and Goran fighting to keep the King’s Mhachkay and Erbörü off me. I wasn’t sure how we were going to win this. We’d fought hard. We’d fought well - or at least I was sure Hakan and the others had.

I bared my teeth at the massive bird before me.

It screeched back.

And then the collar began to tighten.

Not again, I thought, trying to get a finger between the leather and my skin. I couldn’t. And even if I thought I’d survive being strangled to death by a piece of magical leather, I knew I wouldn’t stay conscious for it. Black spots had started to dance before my eyes.

“I am the daughter of the Champion,” I rasped. “The daughter of the Prophesied. The goddaughter…of the…Enforcer…and…the…Ambrosia.”

I couldn’t say much more. But I had a hell of a lot left to say. Instead, I managed one single word.

“War.” He’d declared war on the Iunctio today. The Mhachkay King had declared war on my father and mother. On my uncles. On my family.

On me.

The bird morphed back into the man, and he sneered.

“This war began well before your time, Enchanted,” he said. “But it will end with your assistance, willing or not, in this era. The new Mhachkay era.”

My vision dimmed. I stumbled. My knees hit the tiles. My mouth gaped open. My chest ached with such horrendous pain I could barely think. I wanted it to end. Now.

And then a flash of Light washed the already too bright courtyard in illumination, blocking out the rising sun and blinding everyone.

“You called, goddaughter,” an ancient voice sounded out.

I blinked. Then blinked again. Nope, still there. Still standing in the middle of the Mosque’s tiled courtyard, Mhachkay and Erbörü immobilised all around him, gnarled old hand lifted, fingers stretched toward my neck.

The collar snapped.

The Ambrosia chuckled.

The Kral roared.

And the battle began all over again.

3

End This

This time, though, we had the Ambrosia. And no one could say the ancient vampyre, otherwise known as the Father of Eternal Life, was weakened by anything as mundane as a sleepyhead. The Mhachkay might have been numerous but they were struggling due to their long internment, and the Ambrosia was not above using that advantage fully.

He flipped and spun and danced around the square like some demented Yoda-styled vampire; chuckling and whirling and striking with a precision that boggled the mind. At any moment I expected him to say something in a Yoda-like tone of voice. Like “Win, you can not.” Or “Suffer, you shall.”

It was surreal, but I didn’t have time to watch the Iunctio councillor in all his Jedi glory as I had my hands full with a recovered and extremely irate Mhachkay King. While the Ambrosia dealt with the Kral’s men and their familiars, Hakan dancing in and out with the old vampire like some strange and fantastical tag-team, I faced off against the King.

And the King was not so enamoured with the Ambrosia’s fighting style, nor was he as weakened as his kin.

“If you will not come willingly,” he said, voice low so as not to carry, “then I shall end your life right here.”

“Killing me won’t help your war efforts,” I growled.

“There are two of you,” he said nonchalantly. "I may have the right to claim the firstborn, but if the firstborn is dead, then the spare shall suffice.”

Luc. The son-of-a-bitch wanted to go after Luc. Of course, he did. But being reminded of my brother and the current state of mind he was in was not welcome. Luc had joined with Alain, Papa’s spymaster, but their joining had gone wrong somehow. Darkness consumed them both, and if they had made it back to Earth from Álfheimr then finding them shouldn’t be too hard for those who danced with the Dark.

And staring at the Mhachkay Kral before me now I saw it. Darkness. They all had it. Vampires of every description had one foot on the Dark side of life and another on the Light. Some were more skewed toward one persuasion than the other, but very rarely was any vampire without a little Dark.

Papa had less than most due to the influence of my mother. The Ambrosia, surprisingly, had little as well. But even Hakan, a vampire I had let get closer to me than any other, had a smattering of Dark. Contained. Controlled. But there.

The Mhachkay vampire before me, however, was steeped in Dark. Light speaks to Light. Dark speaks to Dark. Would Luc’s and now Alain’s Dark call to this vampire?

I wouldn’t let him get to my brother before I did, so I doubled my efforts. I spun, and I attacked. I ducked and dived and dodged and swiped. Some of my strikes met flesh. More than I liked missed. And still Ediz roared, and Goran danced, and Hakan growled, and the Ambrosia chuckled.

The ribbons twisted this way and that, forewarning me of an attack before it materialised. I stayed one step ahead of the Kral as I became more and more in tune with those psychic twisters inside, until finally, I landed my stake, parting flesh and muscle, and sinking it home.

Home, unfortunately, was not one of his twin hearts. But it was close enough for the Kral to issue a command for retreat and for the Sultan Ahmed Mosque’s courtyard to suddenly become very still and quiet.

And empty.

I spun around, stake raised, breaths punching in and out of my chest, sweat coating my skin, my dreads sticking to my no doubt pale cheeks. My eyes narrowed; my ears were ringing.

Hakan appeared at my side. A warrior covered in smears of blood, dripping in sweat, fire in his eyes. He surveyed the length of me, from head to toe and back up again. I had the distinct impression he was checking that I was all right, but not a word was said.

The Ambrosia walked toward us as Goran and Ediz, still in Erbörü form, approached from opposite sides. The ancient vampire whistled as if out for a Sunday walk. He looked to Hakan and offered a small bow of his head, which should have been the most surprising thing I witnessed right then. But Hakan turned to the vampire and fisted his hand over his chest and bowed in return. The universal vampire show of deep respect.

“Teşekkür ederim, Baba,” he said. Thank you, Father. I blinked. “But your assistance is no longer required.”

Ah, there it was; the mistrust, the anger, the wariness. For a moment there, I thought my Savaşçı had received a knock to the head. There was no love lost between Hakan and the Iunctio. Definitely, none lost between Hakan and my father, I thought. But what their history was, I still did not know.

“Prince of the Mhachkay,” the Ambrosia said, not showing an ounce of disquiet at the dismissal he’d just received. “We must talk.”

Hakan studied the old vampire and then turned his silver and blue eyes to me. I held his stare, aware the Ambrosia was watching the silent exchange we were having. No doubt thinking of how best to advise my father that the Mhachkay prince consulted his kindred on matters of politics. I was sure the Ambrosia thought we had joined. My enchanted blood was contained. The power he and my father, along with Uncle Gregor, had hidden since my birth was no longer blazing. He would assume the kindred joining was more than convenience. Not a bad thing.

I arched my brow at my Savaşçı. His lips twitched, and then he nodded his head as if we had conversed telepathically. As if a conversation’s worth of words had been shared.

“Our home,” Hakan told the Ambrosia. “You are welcome to visit with us.”

Words meant something to vampires, and these words, in particular, meant an awful lot. First, Hakan referred to his home here in Istanbul, a home he had once told me he had brought no one, not vampire nor other, into before he brought me there, was now ‘our’ home. And secondly, he invited the Ambrosia in because I had allowed it.

His consideration went a long way to still the heartache I felt inside my chest. I glanced back across the Sultan Ahmed Mosque’s courtyard toward my fallen human friend. Travis’ broken body lay discarded like a piece of rubbish. I wanted to bury him.

I had to show no emotion. Alone, perhaps alone with Hakan, I could. But in front of the Iunctio councillor and the representative of Dökkálfa, I could show no fear. I wasn’t scared of the Mhachkay Kral, I told myself. In fact, I was incensed with rage. But heartache I felt in spades.

I’d done this. I’d brought my fragile friend into a war.

There weren’t many people I called friend in this world. My brother. Georgia. Travis. Family didn’t count. We don’t get to choose our family, even if I counted Luc amongst my closest friends. My circle of friends was small, and the Kral had made it smaller.

I would kill him.

Hakan reached out and touched my elbow. A show of support. A barely there reassurance. We weren’t kindred. The need to touch was not ingrained in our joining. And Hakan Bahar was a warrior prince; showing such open affection would not have been natural to him. And yet he took the time to touch. Briefly. There one second, gone the next.

“Lady Ellie,” Goran said at my side. “Allow me.”

He looked toward Travis. A Fey committal was not such a bad thing to give my friend. At least it wasn’t a vampire wake. Travis would have cursed me for eternity had I given him that.

I nodded my head at the Hyrða. The guard stepped lightly away and crossed the courtyard. We watched on in silence as he chanted in Fey, and Light blazed through a portal, the scent of ozone and Álfheimr on the air. That’s why Aliath and given me Goran, I realised. A Hyrða can open portals to their realm. He could take me to the Dark Fey King in a heartbeat. If Aliath called, the Hyrða would act.

We would have to watch him.

I flicked a glance to Hakan. He met my gaze with a steady one of his own.

First a fairy and now an Iunctio councillor. We could either baulk at the intrusion and interference, or we could use them to our advantage.

Your thoughts mirror mine, hayatim, Hakan said inside my head.

The Ambrosia has super-sonic ears, I offered in reply.

We both looked at the ancient vampire, but he was humming a tune and staring off at the sun as it rose steadily higher. We stood in shade, but it would be taking its toll on Hakan. The Ambrosia, however, could no doubt handle a little UV light.

Goran finished what he needed to do; the Light burst apart as the portal closed in front of him; Travis’ body no longer of this world. His soul had long since left it.

I felt hollow. I felt guilt. I felt like crying.

I sucked in a steadying breath of air and started toward Hakan’s - our - home. I knew these streets intimately. I’d spent four days scouring them for a portal to Álfheimr. It was ironic now that we had a mobile portal maker on our team when Luc had no need to seek out the Light of the Ljósálfar.

No, I silently corrected, he had need but not inclination. Dark calls to Dark. Would he seek Aliath out next?

I doubted it. My brother’s Dark was twisted, amplified by the power Alain had hidden from my father. Whatever they sought, it would not be logical. It would not make sense. How did I chase him if I couldn’t think like him? I had always been able to second guess my brother. If there were women there, he’d be there also. If it meant doing the right thing, the nice thing, he’d do it. If it were fun and full of mischief, he’d undertake it. If Alain told him to do it, he would.

The only thing that had ever made sense to the vampire half of me was Luc’s desire to please Alain Dupont. Papa’s spymaster was the best at what he did. Luc worshipped the ground he walked on. If Alain wanted to hide from us, Luc would do everything in his power to achieve it.

And finding Alain Dupont when he did not wish to be found was a monumental task.

I pushed through the door into Hakan’s home. Now my home. The three storey building looked like something out of a fairytale. The upper floors were larger than the ground floor, overhanging the narrow pedestrian footpath outside like some medieval construct. Pale blue plaster with orange brick trim. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

Inside there were whitewashed walls and dark wood. Patterned rugs and colourful mosaic tiles. Throw cushions in sumptuous colours. Overstuffed chairs and well-worn tables. It was cooler in the house than outside, even though he didn’t have air-conditioning. The creature comforts of yesteryear were hard to come by; Istanbul had had its fair share of Norm uprisings.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of raki. The house smelled of him. The ceremonial weapons wall spoke of him. The Kilij attached to my hip was, of course, missing, but the rest of the weapons were well used and definitely his.

How long had Hakan been awake? How long had this house been his?

There were still so many questions, and I couldn’t yet ask them. We had guests.

I placed the tray of glasses and raki down in the sitting area and then leaned back against the wall, surveying our visitors. Ediz had disappeared to the back of the property where I had discovered a room that smelled like wet dog. In Erbörü form, the shapeshifter had a certain canine-esque aroma. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it certainly wasn’t human either.

The Ambrosia glanced around the room, feigning interest. Or simply ascertaining what he could use as a weapon should he require it. Goran stood to attention beside the shuttered windows. His eyes were flaring that Fey green from time to time.

Whatever was said here would reach Aliath.

Whatever was said here would reach my father, as well.

Hakan lowered himself into a comfortable and worn armchair. I’d curled up on it while he’d been gone, searching for Luc in Faerie. It had smelled like Hakan, and it had been one of only two places I was able to get any rest.

You can guess where the other was, and even then, the rest I’d received had been steeped in dreams of sweat-soaked bodies and passion.

I cleared my throat.

“Why are you here, Ambrosia?” I asked.

No one else seemed keen to get the ball rolling.

“You called, child,” he replied with a soft smile.

“Simply saying your name calls you to me now?”

“Invoking my role as your godparent does.”

I scowled at the vampire. I’d invoked his role as godparent in Álfheimr. I guessed the portals hadn’t allowed his miraculous appearance there.

“That’s new,” I remarked, keeping my face neutral.

“No,” he said simply. “It is not.”

The crafty vampire had placed the charm or spell on me when he’d been appointed my godfather. I should have known. I wondered what Uncle Gregor had done. I thought perhaps it was best not to think about it for now.

“Well,” I said, reluctantly. “Thank you for your help.”

He continued to smile.

“You wished to talk,” Hakan said, his voice mellow and somehow reaching out to wrap around me.

I shifted slightly, feeling the tendrils of his Sanguis Vitam as it stroked up my side. He was neither trying to calm me nor reassure me. He was copping a feel, and I did not appreciate that he did it now.

I sent a contained blast of my Light back at him, and he jerked. His eyes flashed silver. The vampire hunted.

Damn.

“Your father does not know that Lucien has joined with his Second,” the Ambrosia said, forcing all thoughts of Hakan’s chase from my mind.

“How did you know?” I asked.

The ancient vampire looked at me and smirked. “I didn’t.” Until I opened my stupid mouth and confirmed it for him.

“And now?” I ground out between clenched teeth.

“I must advise him. But I need not do so immediately.”

“Why?” I asked, suspiciously. Nothing this vampire did was without careful thought and planning. What was in it for him? More power? Longer life?

“There is unrest in Auckland,” the vampire said. “Now would not be the time to spread the Iunctio’s resources thin.”

Papa would send out a battalion to find his Second and save Luc.

“What sort of unrest?” I asked, stalling for time.

“The type we have long feared.”

“The Norms know the Iunctio is there,” I surmised.

“Someone let it slip. Someone we have little control over.”

“The Mhachkay.”

The Ambrosia looked toward Hakan.

“Hakan didn’t do it,” I insisted.

Hakan said nothing, just met the ancient vampire’s sepia-toned eyes.

“But the prince can stop it,” the Ambrosia said.

That’s why he was here, I realised. Because he wanted something. Survive at all costs. His precious Iunctio was under threat. And to save it, save himself, he would turn to an outcast Mhachkay.

“How do you suggest I achieve this?” Hakan asked.

“Entwine Lucien’s blood. Take your rightful place. End this.”

Motherfucker. The Ambrosia knew about Entwining. He’d known about it when my father had insisted I join with Alain. That’s why he’d let me go. That’s why he’d practically encouraged it.

You have more power than any of them. What will you do, child?

Son-of-a-bitch. He’d never intended for the joining to go ahead, even as he’d proffered the knife.

And then it hit me. Entwine Lucien’s blood. If we found a Mhachkay to entwine with my brother, we could save him. We could possibly even save Alain, as well.

I turned toward my Savaşçı, hope replacing all other unwanted emotions for now.

Hakan stared at the Ambrosia, nothing of what he thought evident on his warrior façade.

And then he said one word that shattered my world. That broke me.

“No.”

4

We Are Not Kindred

I managed to hold my tongue until the Ambrosia left. Years of watching my parents face off against powerful political opponents had taught me some discretion.

The moment I no longer felt the ancient vampire’s Sanguis Vitam, though, I let rip.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

Hakan looked at me with silver-laced eyes and said, “It is late, hayatim. We should rest.”

“Don’t ‘hayatim’ me, Bahar!” I snapped. “There is no way I’m not going after my brother.”

He took a step toward me. It could’ve been called menacing, but somehow Hakan no longer menaced me.

“You know not of what you speak,” he said.

I matched him step for step until I was chest to chest with him. Glaring up into his mesmerising ice-blue eyes, I said, “And you don’t know me, Bey Bahar. I will not abandon my brother.”

“So much fire,” he murmured. “So much Light.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He turned away and looked at the Hyrða, standing quietly, watching and listening to everything we said, in the corner of the room. Damn it! I’d forgotten Goran was there.

“The guest room is on the second floor,” Hakan advised him. “I suggest you rest. Come nightfall; we will hunt.”

What? Wait? I’d won that round? How?

Goran inclined his head and stepped out of the room on silent feet. Ediz had not come back in. I wondered if the Erbörü hunted. What did they eat? Little children?

I studied Hakan as he reached out and picked a glass of raki up off the tray. He downed the alcohol in one hit. Then lifted once again silver-laced eyes to connect with mine.

“We face two problems,” he said quietly. Hakan’s quiet was not a soft and alluring quiet. It was sensual and filled with delicious threat.

Perhaps to others, it would be something else, but to me, it was anticipation wrapped up in bloodlust, doused in sex. I’d always had a thing for powerful vampires. Growing up surrounded by so many it wasn’t a surprise.

I cocked my head, placed my hands on my hips and growled, “What problems?”

“Finding a suitable Mhachkay for starters.”

I blinked at him.

“You said no only a moment ago.”

“I did not say no to that.”

I studied him. He wore that vampire mask so many of them adopt as they get older. Hakan had been in stasis for five hundred years, but if that was the case, he was old when he was placed there. I opened myself up to his Sanguis Vitam. I let his blood life force roll over me, gauging its strength, its vintage so to speak. He was old, all right. Not old like the Ambrosia. But old like my father is.

To Norms, that would create an uncomfortable feeling; dating a guy the same age as your dad. But to vampyre it meant nothing. Age only a consideration if it brought enough power with it. Hakan had power and then some. As did the Mhachkay King.

“You’re his heir, aren’t you?” I said.

Hakan inclined his head in a single nod.

“The no was for that.”

He smiled. “You are astute, hayatim.” He sounded pleased as if he had not expected me to be his match in that regard. What had he thought the Champion would sire? An idiot?

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

His smile widened.

“You should know,” he said in a purr, “you’re defiance only excites me.”

Vampires.

I uncrossed my arms and started to pace.

“I’ll bite,” I said, making him chuckle. Half-vampire I might be, but I was not born with any fangs to speak of. “Why don’t you want to assume the role of Mhachkay King?”

His smile faded, and I felt the room chill for its loss.

“My uncle and I have not seen eye to eye for centuries.”

And that would be centuries before they were imprisoned.

I turned and faced my entwined vampire and said, “Start talking. I want to know everything. I have that right.”

I’d picked him. I’d sided with him. His blood was entwined with mine. I had a right to know his history and what it meant for our future. What it might mean for my brother in the end.

Hakan looked at the armchair he’d vacated with longing and then looked down at his warrior garb, all smeared in blood. Mhachkay and Erbörü blood.

“Come, hayatim,” he said and held out a hand.

There was no one here to see him offer affection. No one to judge him or fool with an act. He held out his hand because he wanted me to take it.

I didn’t know exactly what entwining did to us, but I knew it wasn’t the same as a joining. My mother had gone into great - and sometimes embarrassing - detail about what to expect when we joined. She’d been blindsided by it when she’d been young; she was determined we wouldn’t be on reaching out twenty-fifth. And what she had described was not what I had experienced with Hakan.

No heightened attraction. No undeniable need to touch. No vampire bite to claim possession. None of that.

Because I’d already felt it, longed for it. Wanted it with every fibre of my being.

I slipped my hand into my Savaşçı’s and let him lead me from the room. We climbed the stairs past the second floor and to the very top of the building. I was familiar with his bedroom. I’d visited it in a ribbon assisted Walk. I’d been inside it with Hakan when he’d brought me here from Auckland. I’d slept in it alone when he’d been in Faerie searching for my brother.

But this was the first time we both entered it with - hopefully - no chance of us being pulled away by some supernatural call. A shiver raced down my spine on that thought.

He bypassed the oversized bed with its dark wood and gauzy curtains and brightly coloured cushions and stepped into the attached bathroom. In short order, he had the large tiled bath filling with steaming water. Istanbul might have lacked some of the finer things of yesteryear, but Hakan Bahar had hot water.

I started to strip. My eyes for the water as it rose quickly inside the bathtub. Not that the bath could really be called a tub. It was huge. But then, Hakan was a big man. My eyes flicked to his body. He’d removed his scabbard and was working on the leather straps that crossed his muscular torso. I knew he was watching me and removing his clothing by rote.

The shiver turned into a liquified shudder, my body loosening and tightening at the same time, delicious anticipation making me wet and hot all of a sudden.

I watched as the leather straps were dropped to the floor and then he unfastened his warrior skirt. He wore little beneath the lower garment, and once that was removed, he wore nothing at all.

Goddess, he was magnificent. Beautiful. A marble sculpture depicting the perfect man.

My eyes lifted to his. His were all silver. Swirling and dancing, hunger of a sort shining brightly.

“Shower first,” he instructed, his voice lower than normal and husky.

I nodded my head and stepped under the spray in the nearby shower stall. In quick and efficient moves, Hakan washed the blood and dirt off, and then took my place doing the same to his glorious body. I had expected more, but he seemed in a hurry. And then when he helped me into the bath and turned my back to his chest, pulling me onto his lap so his arms could surround me, I realised he was in a hurry for this.

Full body contact without the urgency or distraction of battle grime and dust.

Slowly now, he started to lather my skin up with sweet smelling soap. Jasmine and fig and maybe lavender.

My body relaxed in evermore larger increments until I was a limp pile of flesh draped over broad thighs and a thick chest.

“The Mhachkay,” he said, his voice low and soft, “were once a powerful people. We ruled our little part of the world without interference or judgement. Our vampyre were warriors and scholars and artisans. The best the world had to offer. Visiting vampyre would come from leagues away just to see the sophistication and beauty the Mhachkay created. Ours was a noble world. An honourable one.”

He paused, concentrating on massaging my hands. He worked each finger individually, kneading the joints, smoothing the ligaments, rubbing the soap into the skin. I had never had anyone concentrate so fully on my fingers before. My hands were weapons. Capable of bringing harm or death to those who came against me. I had never thought they could receive such pleasure. Such comfort.

“Being sought after,” Hakan eventually said, “brought complications. At first, we welcomed them. A challenge, after all, is an opportunity to shine. More and more vampyre chose to live near us. On our borders and in some cases on our very land. We lowered our guard. We let them in. Some, such as the Craiovesti family, brought alliances and prestige amongst us. Political pull outside of our world should we require it.”

Craiovesti was the royal name of the vampyre my father had befriended not long after he had been Turned. He had lived in Wallachia, I’d been told. In Romania, so not inside the Mhachkay borders. But near enough to be a threat. From what my mother had said, Neagoe Basarb, a Craiovesti prince, was a diplomat and lover of the Renaissance. My father is the vampyre he is today because of that man.

“The Craiovesti,” Hakan continued, “were Iunctio vampyre. The council had no pull in our land at the time; we did not see them as a threat. At least, I did not. I enjoyed the prince’s company. I shared many interests with him.”

He’d known Neagoe Basarab. He’d known my father’s friend.

That meant, he’d undoubtedly known my father back then.

I wasn’t sure how to take that. My father’s history is steeped in heartache and loss. Not only for his human side but for those early years. Years spent in Wallachia learning politics, diplomacy and philosophy. Learning to be a refined vampire from the example set by Basarab. Papa did not speak of that time with Luc or I. He had with Mama, who had passed on what she could to us. But heartache still had its claws in my father’s chest.

Five hundred years of heartache.

“I was enamoured with his world,” Hakan murmured, moving on to massaging my wrists and arms. “I spent more time in Wallachia than I did in my own country. I had lowered my guard. When I finally returned, summoned by my uncle and father for some inconsequential thing, I found an Empire corrupted by greed and lust. A snake had made its home in our bed.”

His hands never stopped moving. His voice never changed in pitch. But I got the impression that this was hard for him. That he was using the connection of touching my body to ground himself. That, not unlike a kindred joining, Hakan felt compelled to touch me right then.

“My uncle,” Hakan said, “worked with the Sultan willingly, seeking power and expansion, much like the human did. The Mhachkay had never needed more land than they had, but my uncle chose expansion over honour, conquer over friendship, war over diplomacy. I was no longer his man. I left, thinking to distance myself. I turned my back on my people, on my ancestral home, and in doing so on my friend.”

He was silent for a moment. His hands were moving to my shoulders, to my collarbone, to the artery that pulsed in time with his twin hearts on my neck.

“They invaded Wallachia while I was gone,” he whispered. “Had I returned to the Craiovesti Court and warned them, they may have been prepared. As it was, they saw the Mhachkay standard and opened their gates to a horde.”

Invaders from the Ottoman Empire had killed Neagoe Basarb. My mother had told me that. Those invaders had been the Mhachkay. No wonder my father hated them.

“Our Kral,” Hakan said in a low growl, “thought himself above all other vampyre. Above the Iunctio. He thought wrong. They retaliated. And their power far outstripped ours. They had Nosferatin. We had long ago lost our kan büyülü. Our Entwined. We were at a disadvantage, but still, my uncle fought. The battle lasted years. In the end, sheer stubbornness and willpower kept the Mhachkay going. In order to find a resolution that saved face for both sides, the Iunctio struck a bargain. Our willing imprisonment for the promise of the first Entwined to be born next.”

Dear Goddess. Had my father known when we’d been born? Had he known what we were and what it would mean? The return of the Mhachkay. The vampyre group responsible for gifting his friend the final death. How had he reconciled his love for his children and the fate they would one day bring?

It explained so much. His strictness growing up. The Dream Visits where he allowed himself to love us. The public displays of Champion toughness. The fact that he, along with the Ambrosia and the Enforcer, had tried to hide our enchanted blood.

How he’d let me go with Hakan, a Mhachkay prince, instead of forcing the joining with Alain in the end.

It had been too easy; his acquiescence. He’d had no choice. An accord had been made. He was honour bound as the current Champion to adhere to it. Luc was the firstborn Blood Enchanted, the firstborn due the Mhachkay as Entwined. But I was a chance to mend bridges. Or to place an asset inside their borders and hope I would be everything he had trained me to be in the end.

My father had placed his trust in me. He had placed Luc’s life in my hands. He’d done the one thing I had never expected him ever to do; let me go so I could be what I needed, what he’d taught me, to be.

Hakan stroked a finger over my neck. My pulse jumped. He leaned forward and inhaled my scent.

“I was imprisoned with them,” he murmured against my slick skin. “I had not raised arms against the Iunctio, but I was a Mhachkay prince. And I had done nothing to dissuade my uncle. To stop his relentless attacks.”

Guilty by association. He hadn’t fired the gun, but he’d stood by and watched the bullets fly.

I understood the guilt he carried. I felt it keenly when I thought of Travis. This was why he did not want to be Kral. The Mhachkay he’d been imprisoned with were no longer his kin.

I could have offered platitudes; soothed his ego with empty words. Guilt is guilt. Earned or not, it has a right to be there. I would not begrudge him his sins. I had too many of my own to battle.

“You said we face two problems,” I murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed the curve of my neck.

“Finding a suitable Mhachkay for your brother,” he whispered against the goosebumps that appeared.

“Mmhmm,” I managed.

“And the fact my uncle thinks you are the firstborn.”

I didn’t see that as a problem. It took the pressure off Luc, hopefully, long enough for us to reach him and Alain first. I turned in Hakan’s arms and faced him.

“So?”

“So, hayatim,” he said, brow arched, “we are not kindred. He could steal you and entwine your blood with his.”

Shit.

5

Still Unexplained

Kindred joinings are for life. The Nosferatu’s or the Nosferatin’s life. Whichever meets the final death first. Symbiotic their relationship, but also once joined no vampire can tear them apart.

And OK, there were exceptions. Bizarre and magical exceptions. And my mother’s and father’s original kindred joining had fallen into that category. But on the whole, once you joined with a kindred Nosferatu, you were joined for eternal life.

Not so, then, with the Mhachkay entwining of blood.

“He can steal me?” I demanded.

Hakan sighed and leaned back in the bath. He spread his arms out either side of his body, displaying a whole hell of a lot of naked chest, and stared me in the eye.

“It is frowned upon,” he said. “But I think I’ve established the underhanded way my uncle operates, have I not?”

I nodded my head, feeling strangely numb.

“He seeks his side of the accord. He sees you as that firstborn offering. We need to disabuse him of this knowledge.”

“Disabuse him?” I repeated on a growl. “How about this? We stake his undead hearts and replace him with you.”

“You would wish the mantle of king on me so readily?”

“Are you afraid of the responsibility?” I snapped.

He leaned forward. “I am not afraid, only cautious of the power.”

“I’d keep you in line; stop your head from getting too big.”

“How noble of you, hayatim. But somehow that does not assuage my concerns.”

“What’s the problem? Clearly, the Mhachkay need proper guidance. You’re a prince. Powerful. Entwined. You’ve got a kick-arse Blood Enchanted at your side. They’d accept you in a heartbeat.” Or two simultaneous heartbeats, as the case may be.

He shook his head at me, searching my face. “You are your father’s daughter,” he murmured.

“Thank you?” I said uncertainly.

“Raised by a king. Educated to be a queen. You are not at all offended by the notion of rule.”

I stared back at him nonplussed.

“They are broken, Éliane. They are fractured and corrupted. An illness invades their very souls. I am not even sure if they should be saved. If they could be. It would not be an easy reign. And that does not take into consideration the battle that would ensue in order to depose my uncle.”

He reached out and touched a lock of my hair. The dread was heavy with water; he played with the end of it, twisting it between his long fingers.

“I am not their long-lost prince as you believe. I am considered a dissenter. A deserter. A traitor to my kind. I turned my back on my Kral when he picked up arms against who they believe was an enemy of the Mhachkay crown. They will not accept me.”

I shook my head and in the process pulled my dread from his grasp.

“And that’s reason enough not to try?” I asked.

He sighed. “What would you have of me, hayatim?”

“I would have your hearts!” I growled. “I would have your souls. And, by the goddess, I would have your sword.”

He stared at me for a long time and then said, “They are yours.”

I blinked. “Then we do this?” I asked carefully.

Hakan’s face took on the impassive mask of a powerful vampire. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to rule. Either because he feared the power that had corrupted his uncle. Or he feared the Mhachkay were not saveable.

He’d have to kill them. Every single one. Or watch them all be imprisoned all over again.

Perhaps even be imprisoned himself as well. And if he were imprisoned, then I would be too.

I am a Mhachkay prince’s Entwined. His kan büyülü.

Hakan wasn’t afraid of ruling; he was afraid of losing everything to that rule.

He would make a good king.

“We can do this,” I said softly. “We can stop your uncle, save your people, and save Luc.”

Hakan looked at me, silver swirling in the depths of his ice-blue eyes. And then he was reaching for me, wrapping me up in his big, strong arms, hauling me through the water that separated us, and crushing my body to his.

His lips slammed against mine. His tongue invaded. Our bodies, slick with the soap he’d used to massage me, slid against each other, making the water wavy. It splashed against the sides of the tub and then spilt over. But I wasn’t thinking about the mess we were making. I was consumed in Hakan’s touch.

His hands glided over my body as if he’d committed every erogenous zone to memory. His lips and tongue followed, and then his teeth and fangs. He bit and drank my blood, all the while bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I rocked against him, fisted his hair, tugged.

He tugged back, making my body arch, tilting my head, exposing my neck.

He bit again and again and again. I came undone.

He lifted us from the bathtub, the water sluicing off our bodies, droplets landing in quiet little sounds that matched the racing of my heart. His scent surrounded me as he lay me down on the bed. The sheets slid against my wet skin as he slid his face down between my breasts.

He kissed my stomach. He pinched my nipples between fingers and thumbs. He nuzzled his face between the apex of my thighs. I let out a moan when he licked and sucked.

Fangs pierced my femoral artery. A climax stole all thought. Fingers probed and stroked, and a growl sounded out from the back of his throat.

And then he was up and over me, thrusting into me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I cried out when I came. He kissed me silent as he rocked ever faster. My body came apart again and again, and then he rose up over me one final time, stilled, and then shuddered. His release scorched me on the inside; his eyes blazed silver and cyan.

And then his lips wrapped around a nipple and his fangs pierced, Sanguis Vitam rising.

The damn vampire was marking me on the tit.

I whacked his shoulder. He grunted and amped his Sanguis Vitam. I blasted him with Light. He laughed.

Power ebbed. He settled between my legs, lifted his head and gazed up my body to look at me. I stared down at my breast, pleased to note I’d won this round; there was no new Sigillum there to greet me.

“Kafinefendi,” he said. “My Queen.”

“That would mean you wish to be King, my Savaşçı,” I pointed out.

He smiled. It was edged in sadness.

“I would face a thousand ordular if you asked it of me. Two hearts. Two souls. And they have chosen.”

“Together we are stronger,” I said, repeating a kindred and Mhachkay saying he’d once told me. “Apart we are weak.”

He cupped my cheeks and leaned in and kissed me. Softly. Reverently. In a way, I had no hope of fighting.

I had thought the entwining weaker than a kindred joining. And there were definitely deficiencies there. The Kral could steal me for one. But I no longer saw those deficiencies as weaknesses. What had Hakan said? A challenge is an opportunity to shine. We would blaze, Hakan and I. We would light up the night sky with our entwining. We were strong together. We would be strong enough to fight.

For Luc. For Alain. For the Mhachkay.

I curled against his body, seeking the warmth and comfort he willingly gave. A warrior who showed such care to his lover. A Mhachkay prince who honoured his Entwined. He held me close, kissed me softly, let me drift while I was sure he stayed awake.

He was not certain this was a path we should take and yet he offered to tread it with me because I asked it of him. I vowed silently to never ask him for anything I did not truly think we needed. Hakan, I was sure, would deliver the world on a platter if I asked it.

It was in their natures, I thought. In the Mhachkay vampires’ blood. When entwined with an Enchanted they were bound in ways a kindred was not. Warriors at heart. Protectors down to their bones. Two sides of a coin with two hearts and two souls. Complex and myriad in their making.

I smiled as I drifted off to sleep. Who needed a kindred when there were Mhachkay to entwine with? Mama was going to be so jealous.

I woke to oregano and mint, a soft breeze off a salty ocean, the scent of sunlight and olive groves. Tulips.

Hakan.

I stretched, and he stroked a finger up my bare stomach, between my breasts, and then cupped one. He leaned forward and licked the nipple, making it pucker, and then he drew it into his mouth and sucked.

I moaned.

His Sanguis Vitam swelled. Here we go again.

A bang sounded out on the front door downstairs. Hakan growled.

“Who would knock?” I asked.

“Ignore them. They’ll go away,” Hakan murmured, moving onto the second breast and nipple and laving it with love.

I checked the shutters. No sunlight peeked at the edges. Night had fallen, and we had to find Luc before the Kral did.

Hakan sensed the shift in my mood and withdrew his touch.

The visitor at the door started up a tattoo of sound. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang-bangbang-bang-bang.

“Is that the Star Wars theme?” I asked.

“The what, hayatim?”

I shook my head, rolled out of bed, and sent out my feelers. Sanguis Vitam of the Dark variety swatted me back.

No, not just Dark, but the Dark Shadow.

“It’s Georgia,” I said, rifling through a drawer I’d commandeered for myself and pulling out underwear. “And someone else,” I added, cocking my head.

“The wards will hold,” Hakan advised me, lying back on the bed in all his beautiful naked vampire glory. “The Nothus cannot get in.”

“She’s my friend.”

He grunted.

But I didn’t know who the Dark vampire was with her. Georgia would not bring someone to my home who would harm me. At least, she wouldn’t if she could help it. The Dark Shadow, on the other hand, might think it amusing to see me fight while she cheered from the sidelines. I shuddered and slammed a drawer shut, turning around and staring down at a still very naked and still very aroused Mhachkay prince.

“Get dressed, Your Majesty,” I told him, slipping new stakes into my empty hip holsters. The Kilij needed cleaning. I donned my Svante instead.

“Kafinefendi,” he said. “Come back to bed.”

“Hakan,” I growled.

He grinned at me, unrepentant. “Ediz will greet your friend.”

Oh, hell no!

I spun on my heel and ran down the stairs; taking them two or three at a time to reach the front door and Georgia before the Erbörü started his hunt again. The rear of the house was quiet, but I noticed the glowing green eyes of the Hyrða guard in the front room. He met my gaze briefly, just enough to make my heart stutter, and then looked away as if ashamed he’d held me for that brief length of time at all.

I shook my head and peered through the peephole on the door; only to see red eyes glaring back at me.

“I can scent you, little one,” the Dark Shadow said.

I couldn’t see the vampire with her, but there really wasn’t any choice in the matter. I could hardly leave Georgia Deverell out on the doorstep.

I swung the door open and peered up at my friend.

“Long time no see, Nothus,” I said.

“You smell of sex.” The Dark Shadow stepped over the threshold and walked into the house.

So much for wards.

I blinked at the vampire behind her who waited for an invitation to enter.

Samson Beauregard, one-third of Georgia’s triumvirate. And the Dark vampire I had sensed.

He held my gaze with deep chocolate brown eyes that bordered on black. Medium height, blond hair tied back, chiselled bones defining a handsome and pale face. A star-shaped Sigillum blazed on his right cheek. My mother’s mark. He was dressed casually in clothes that spoke of money. He smelled nice. Familiar.

I stepped back.

Samson smiled. It was a sad, knowing smile.

He knew he was Dark.

“Invite him in, little one,” the Dark Shadow said.

I turned to look at her. “Where’s Georgia?” I demanded, leaving Dark Samson out on the street.

“She is upset.”

Upset? My friend didn’t get upset. She got even.

Hakan appeared at the top of the stairs and slowly walked down them as if we didn’t have a threat on our porch and a greater threat in the hallway. He was dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting white t-shirt, that displayed his tanned skin and muscles off to perfection. I licked my lips. Silver and ice-blue met my eyes. He smirked.

Then he turned a vampire neutral face to my friend.

“How did you enter, Nothus?” he demanded.

“Èliane opened the door,” the Dark Shadow said.

Hakan took the final step to reach the ground floor and placed himself between the Dark Shadow and me. Goran shifted in the shadows and covered the Nothus’ back.

The Dark Shadow looked over Georgia’s shoulder and snarled. “I thought I smelled fairy.”

“Creature,” the Hyrða said in greeting.

“Green goblin,” the Dark Shadow replied.

That had sounded distinctly like my friend and not her vampire-within.

“Hey, Gigi,” I offered.

The red receded in her eyes and cerulean blue replaced it.

“Nosferatin,” she said.

I let a breath out, which in turn had Hakan and Goran relaxing slightly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Georgia shared a look with Samson.

“Invite him in, El,” she urged.

I looked back over to the Dark vampire. I trusted my friend. And this was Samson. I’d known him my entire life. I’d just clearly not known all there was to know about him.

And neither had my mother.

I sighed and placed my hands on my stakes in a clear message to anyone who wanted to test me right now.

Then said, “Samson Beauregard, please enter our house.”

Samson stepped over the threshold, and the house creaked its disquiet. My eyes connected with Hakan’s. He’d back me however I wanted to handle this. Shame I had no idea how.

I turned and looked at Georgia expectantly.

My friend offered a sly smile and then threw herself in Hakan’s armchair, booted feet hanging over the armrest, glass of raki already in her grip. She downed the drink in one and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.

“Jesus,” she said on a breath of alcohol-laced air. “That’s worse than Jett’s Sunset Rum.”

Samson walked into the room on silent feet, almost a glide. Georgia looked up at her mate. I saw the moment she sought out his Dark. It had been reflexive.

And it was still there. Still unexplained.

And then she said, “The Ambrosia sent us.”

Well, that accounted for the tension, maybe even the Dark. Because suddenly the room was filled with Hakan’s Sanguis Vitam. And my Light had automatically swelled to back him up.

6

Well, That’s Unfortunate

Fangs descended. Green glowed from the fairy’s eyes. A snarl ripped free from Georgia, but she hadn’t moved from her casual recline on Hakan’s armchair. A hiss sounded out over my shoulder. I turned in time to see Ediz barrelling down the hallway towards his prey.

I opened my mouth to shout something, but Samson shifted into the Erbörü’s path, and Ediz simply skidded to a stop before him; head cocked, tongue lolling, panted breaths slipping through parted lips. He was crouched down like a dog, but he wasn’t in his Erbörü form. It was the strangest thing to witness. A shapeshifter acting like their alter ego when still in human form.

“Good doggie,” Georgia said. “Now, sit!”

Samson turned almost completely black eyes on his mate and muttered, “You’re not helping, babe.”

The Dark had swallowed him.

I reached out a hand to steady myself on the wall beside me, my knees suddenly weak. My eyes met Georgia’s. She held my questioning gaze with an impassive vampire stare. That stare hid so many fucking things.

OK. So, she’d hidden this. They’d hidden this. Did Jett know? Of course, he did. He was part of their triumvirate. A third of their power base came from the Master of Auckland City. They would have no secrets between them.

I looked back at Samson and Ediz. Hakan was vibrating with anger. Goran was on guard, ready to strike if needed, but I saw conflict in his glowing green eyes. He was here for my protection, but the Dökkálfa King’s Hundr required careful handling. Maybe even protection too. Aliath did prize Georgia, so there was that.

I ignored the Hyrða for a moment and concentrated on Samson. Light calls to Light. Dark calls to Dark. Except when you’re a Nosferatin. And then it gets complicated. I am the Light to your Dark. You call to me as I call to you. I will always hold you dear.

I may have been only half Nosferatin, but that half was begging for me to intervene.

I let my Light out cautiously, sending out tendrils to test the water. Samson snarled. Ediz hissed.

“If you do that, the doggie gets free,” Georgia said mildly.

I pulled my Light back reflexively and turned to look at her.

“Explain,” I demanded.

“You ask a lot, Nosferatin.”

“You presume a lot,” I snapped back. “What has Samson done to Ediz?”

“He is a Rüya Dokumacı,” Hakan said from beside me. “A Dream Weaver.”

“A what?” I said, stunned.

“He weaves dreams about his prey, giving them illusions to keep them compliant. It is a Dark talent, and he is powerful.”

“That’s my man,” Georgia said with a sharp-toothed grin.

“Like glazing?” I asked, my question for Hakan; Georgia was in no mood to help me.

“It cannot be countered,” Hakan explained, walking around Samson and Ediz and studying something I couldn’t see. Glazing could be countered but this could not, then. “Your Light would have only disconnected the vampire’s hold. Ediz would have been free. But he will never again wish to hunt the Nothus.”

I stared in horror at what Samson had done to Ediz. He’d altered his reality. Permanently. Samson didn’t meet my eyes. His gaze was all for Hakan. He expected the threat to come from there. He didn’t know me.

I slammed my Light into my mother’s vampire and sent him careening across the room toward the Hyrða. Goran simply stepped to the side and let Samson’s body fly past him. Samson hit the far wall with a crunch and then slid to the floor.

The Dark Shadow loomed over my shoulder; fangs pressed to my neck.

“You did not just blast my mate,” she said.

My stake found her chest, even as I completed the spin to face her. “Try me, Shadow. You’ll be next.”

She snarled. Samson groaned. Goran’s fire blazing Fey swords illuminated the corner of the room, and the tip of Hakan’s Kilij pricked the skin of Georgia’s neck.

We all held our breaths, trapped in a standoff with deadly repercussions. None of this was helping me find Luc. Bickering amongst ourselves wouldn’t get me to my brother any sooner. And Nut alone knew what the Kral was doing right now.

But I couldn’t back down. This was my home. Ediz was Hakan’s familiar. He was family.

Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

Even with your friends, it seemed.

“Has he ever done that to me?” I growled low to Georgia.

“No.”

“To my brother?”

“No.”

“My mother?”

“No.”

“Papa?”

“No.”

“To anyone I know?”

The Dark Shadow cocked her head thinking. “Does Marcus count?”

Marcus was one of my father’s vampires. He and Matthias were the personal guards appointed my mother. Why on earth would Samson need to weave a dream for Marcus?

“He is a bit of a jerk,” I offered.

The Dark Shadow smiled and pulled back.

“Now he’s a pleasant jerk,” she said, and Georgia reappeared in her eyes.

She looked directly at me and said, “Are we good?”

“We are so far from good,” I muttered, but I nodded my head anyway.

She stepped back completely. Samson climbed to his feet and brushed himself down.

“You’ve become stronger, Ellie,” he said as if being hurled into a wall by Light was an everyday occurrence and warranted commending.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” I accused.

“I’m still me, kiddo,” he murmured.

I reached up and rubbed my face. None of this was helping Luc.

Hakan stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder and then reached down and helped Ediz to his feet. Poor Ediz. His Erbörü hunt had been terminated, and he had no idea it had happened. It was a violation of his rights. It was Dark indeed.

My eyes met Samson’s.

“I will not make excuses,” he said, “but say only this. Your brother needs every bit of help he can get.”

I felt my shoulders droop and let out a defeated sigh. Georgia was a hunter. She was the best. And Samson was the Darkest vampire I had ever met who hadn’t yet gone over rogue. His Dark would call to Luc’s Dark. He could be an asset.

They both were.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like what he’d done. But Ediz’s fixation on Georgia would have made cooperation between us impossible. We would have had to leave Ediz behind. And that seemed wrong.

Luc needed every bit of help he could get.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I said to Samson.

“Éliane,” he said, “I cannot give you that promise. Georgia is my mate.”

Theirs was a complicated relationship. The Dark Shadow and Georgia were often at odds. Jett understood the Dark Shadow. Samson loved Georgia with all of his heart. But as I turned my face away, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that made me stop. Samson’s vampire-within - a huge-arse black dog - was chasing the Dark Shadow. And the Dark Shadow was laughing.

I shook myself and looked at Hakan.

“Can you accept that?” I asked him.

“I have no choice, hayatim. It is done and cannot be undone.”

“But if he tries something like that again…”

“I shall rip off his head and feed Ediz his eyeballs.”

“That’s my man,” I said, and Georgia snorted.

Goran’s Fey blades stopped flaming. In the next heartbeat, they were hidden from sight. Hakan had returned his Kilij to its sheath at some point, but his eyes remained steadfastly on my face. Samson remained where he stood, and Ediz shook himself like a wet dog. Georgia reached out and patted him on the head.

I snarled.

“You have claimed him,” she said. “That’s good.”

I sighed. Vampire politics and supernatural relationships were not for the faint of heart. I’d been raised to survive in this world using my strength and cunning. Diplomacy was a tool to be employed when the outcome suited my needs. And right now, I needed Luc found.

Life sucked.

Hakan’s mind brushed mine. He has done me a service, he said.

How do you figure that? He violated Ediz.

Ediz would have hunted your familiar to her end. I would have been forced to kill him for the offence. He has been with me for centuries.

Ah, shit.

I shall not thank him, Kafinefendi. But he has my thanks.

Meaning Hakan could live with what had happened. Because it suited his needs. Vampires could be very pragmatic.

“OK,” I said aloud, aware everyone knew Hakan and I had been communicating telepathically. Georgia smirked at me when our eyes met. “That was one way to wake the fuck up.”

Samson let out an imperceptible breath of air. Light tried to flicker inside him. He was trying to find his way back, and my acceptance of what he’d done was helping him. Georgia, I was sure, would help him with the rest. He wasn’t my vampire. Not my problem. But he was my mother’s. Still, I had never been a tattletale, and I wasn’t about to start now.

Unless he threatened my family. He didn’t, I thought. So I pushed the puzzle of Samson Beauregard aside for now; wiping my hands.

Georgia offered me a rare genuine smile.

“So, the Ambrosia sent you,” I said, heading toward the kitchen part of the big room we were in. I started grabbing things for an impromptu breakfast. I was starved. Someone had kept me busy all day and used up my energy reserves.

“You know I would come for Luc without having been asked,” Georgia offered.

“But the Ambrosia knew you both could help.”

“Yes,” she bit out. She didn’t like that he knew about Samson. Because there was no way Samson was included in this little SAR team set up by the ancient Iunctio councillor because he looked good hanging off Georgia’s arm.

“That is something we will address on our return to Auckland,” Samson promised her.

“Good luck with that,” I said, and brought the breakfast tray of fruits and yoghurts, bread and cheese, and a selection of meats to the table for those who could digest such things.

I shoved a grape in my mouth and chewed.

“So, where do we start?”

Goran stepped forward and swiped a slice of cheese. Ediz started piling up everything onto a thick slice of dark bread, then lathered the entire lot with tzatziki. It was one way to go.

The vampires looked like they might up-chuck.

“I will hunt,” Georgia said, watching Ediz devour his creation with fascination.

“And I’ll make myself known,” Samson added, purposely not watching the Erbörü at all.

“How do you plan to do that?” I asked.

He let out a little of his Dark. I almost choked on the segment of orange I’d been about to swallow.

Hakan stepped forward and rubbed my back and then picked up a grape and slice of cheese. He wrapped the cheese around the grape and placed it in his mouth. We all stared at him, eyes wide and jaws hanging open dumbly.

Well, Ediz didn’t, he was too busy tucking into his second tower of tzatziki.

“That is disgusting,” Georgia said.

I smiled. “Two hearts. Two souls. And I’m guessing two stomachs?”

Hakan leaned forward and kissed the side of my head but said nothing.

I felt his arm settled around my shoulders and the heat of his frame invade my body at my side.

He was vampyre. I knew he was. He drank blood. He had fangs. But there was more to the Mhachkay than that.

And they were born this way.

“What will the Kral do?” I asked him.

“They are weakened. They will need to build up their strength. This gives us some time, but not much. My uncle is not a patient man, so he will be seeking alternate methods to achieve his goals.”

“Such as?” Samson asked.

“Such as allies who can function while he cannot.”

“Who?” Georgia asked.

“I have searched for those who once supported the Kral’s reign,” Hakan advised. “They no longer exist.”

“Just how long have you been awake?” Georgia asked.

“Longer than the King.”

I smiled at Hakan’s evasiveness. I’d get it out of him eventually, but keeping his secrets safe was fine by me for now. And Georgia and Samson did not deserve to know his secrets. Not after what they had just pulled, even if Hakan saw Samson’s Dream Weaving as a service.

“Then who does that leave?” Goran asked, interrupting the staring match Georgia and Hakan were having.

I’d like to think my Savaşçı had that one covered. I smirked and then returned my attention to the table.

And in particular, the Dark Fey guard.

The ribbons twisted. My stomach flipped. The pulse at the side of my neck doubled.

Hakan turned to look at me. Both Samson and Georgia had homed in on my rapidly beating pulse.

“El?” my friend said.

I felt myself falling backwards. No one reached out to catch me. I landed on my butt on cold dirt.

All around me was rock, curved up and over my head creating a cavern. And front and centre was a stone plinth I had spent way too many hours on. On it sat a crown; thorns twisted this way and that, dear antlers rising up behind it.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” I muttered, and the ribbons twisted and turned and knotted and released in agreement.

Then I was back in Istanbul, Hakan holding me, Georgia shouting, Ediz hissing, Goran waving his arms around and chanting in Fey and Samson looking all Dark and dangerous and threatening.

“The Ljósálfar,” I said, my voice not loud enough to carry over the cacophony. “The Ljósálfar!” I shouted, and everyone stopped.

“What did you say?” Samson asked.

“It’s the Ljósálfar.” I looked up at Hakan. I was pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around me. We were both sitting on the floor of his house.

I had fallen. And Hakan had caught me.

“The Kral has allied with the Ljósálfar,” I said at last.

“That is impossible,” Goran muttered. But he knew as well as we did that it was not. The Light Fey had broken their chains when Luc and I had come into our powers.

But had it been them who broke the chains or had it been the Kral?

Or had the Kral simply used the opportunity to his advantage?

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Georgia muttered.

“That’s not the worst of it,” I told her.

I didn’t need the ribbons to remind me. I remembered facing off against the rabid vampire at the ghouls’ sports bar back in Auckland City. I remembered the parasitic entity that consumed the Light Fey who I’d killed with stolen Iunctio power in the council chambers. I remembered what Aliath had told me about the corruption in the Light Fey and who now lead them. I remembered it all.

“His name is Kaleth,” I said, my mouth dry. “He’s the new Ljósálfar King.”

Goran vanished in a flash of light and the scent of ozone.

We stared at the spot he had been standing in and said nothing.

What was there to say? The Mhachkay had been formidable before, despite having only just awoken. But the Mhachkay allied with the Light Fey was a whole other beast.

A corrupted and lethal beast.

And they were after my brother.

7

This Was Going To Be A Mess

The night was long, and it was dark. Just not the type of Dark we wanted.

“Can you sense them?” I asked Georgia quietly.

We were back at the Sultan Ahmed Mosque; dust and debris coated the tiles, and the light of the moon shone softly reflecting off broken pillars and rubble. Georgia cocked her head to the side, eyes glowing red, and then sighed.

“If they arrived on Earth through a portal to here, they’ve masked themselves well.”

“You said you could track them,” Hakan accused.

Samson growled. Georgia offered a fang-filled smile and looked the Mhachkay prince in the eye.

“I can only track that which is there to be tracked, vampire.”

“Where else would they have appeared?” I demanded.

“Auckland is familiar,” Samson offered. “It’s the only home Lucien knows.”

“The spymaster is not so careless as to bring the Champion’s Dark son under the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor’s nose,” Georgia countered.

“But if we use the same argument,” I said, “Paris is familiar to Alain. Paris was once his home.”

“Yes,” Georgia said, nodding. “That could work.”

“The Mhachkay will not have based themselves there,” Hakan advised.

“The Kral wants Luc,” I argued.

“He will send hunters of his own, but he will not step foot in Paris if he can help it. Paris was also once home to the Iunctio.”

“He hates them that much?” I asked.

“He will wish to wipe them from the history books,” Hakan offered. “But first he will wish to be whole.”

“Entwined with an Enchanted,” I surmised.

“He will not get your brother, hayatim.” His promise was backed with a determined stare. If Hakan could fight his uncle with willpower alone, he would surely win.

But there was more to this battle than that.

Luc was Dark. So Dark he would be easy to track once a hunter scented his trail. He would call every Dark thing to him. The Nosferatins in Paris would suddenly have their workload doubled. Tripled. That sudden increase in Dark would get noticed by those who kept an eye on the former Iunctio’s base of power. Paris meant a lot to vampires of old.

The Kral’s men would find them. So would Georgia, though; I had complete faith in my friend. But finding Luc and saving him were two separate things. Yet one did not exist without the other.

I knew what we had to do. I hated it. But my father had taught me well. I’d just failed to realise his parenting style had been a lesson right from the start.

“We split up,” I said into the quiet of the night. All eyes turned to look at me. Some showed surprise. Most showed vampire impassivity. “Georgia and Samson hunt Luc and Alain,” I added. “Find them,” I said to my friend. “Contain them. Keep them safe for me.”

“We will,” the Dark Shadow and Georgia said.

“And you?” Samson asked.

I looked at Hakan.

“Will all the Mhachkay who aren’t hunting Luc be with the Kral?”

“His hold on them is strong, despite his diminished state upon waking.”

“He couldn’t hold you,” I pointed out.

“I am a Mhachkay prince. Heir to the throne. I am the only one who can resist him.”

“Are there some who would wish to resist him but can’t?”

“Perhaps.”

“Are there any you trust?”

“Time has changed the landscape.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at him.

He smiled, then reached up and touched a dread. He had a fascination with them, I realised. Hakan was not the type of man to show affection. He did touch. He did show physical support when needed. But reaching for the dread had almost been an unconscious act on his part. He was drawn to my fierce hair as I was drawn to the fierce warrior in him.

It is not your hair, he said in my mind.

Then what is it?

You are my match in this and all worlds.

He thought I was fierce, too.

“There is one,” he said aloud, “I still called a friend after leaving Adrianople. Perhaps if we can separate her from the Kral’s power, she will help us.”

We needed someone to entwine their blood with Luc’s, to stabilise his power. In doing so, I could only hope it was enough to contain his Dark.

“Is this friend powerful?” I asked. And why did it have to be a woman?

Hakan grinned. “She was once the most skilled of our kind. A Cadı of great renown. Many feared her. Many coveted her power. The Kral most of all. She will be difficult to free, but she will be worth it. The longer your brother is left without a Mhachkay to ground him, to entwine his blood with theirs and hold it dear, the Darker he will become. If left too long, no one, not even the Kral, will be able to save him.”

None of that had me feeling comfortable. Not a single word. And especially the part about this woman being a witch. Maybe that handy-dandy translation ability I’d acquired on Entwining and consummating my relationship with Hakan wasn’t as nifty a thing as I’d at first thought.

But Luc was growing Darker. I knew it. I could feel it. Even if I couldn’t sense where he was; I could feel his anguish. His Dark. It would take a powerful Mhachkay to entwine him now, and the clock was ticking; I didn’t have time to be picky about it.

“OK,” I said, nodding my head; more for me than any of my companions, I was sure. “Georgia and Samson to Paris after Luc. You, me and Ediz to…where exactly?”

“Adrianople,” Hakan said with a grim smile.

“It’s not called that anymore,” I told him. “It’s known as Edirne.”

He snarled. “Empires rise and fall,” he growled quietly, speaking of the Ottomans who must have named the place at a guess. “But the spirit of Hadrianopolis will always survive.”

If he said so.

“And Ediz will accompany the Nothus,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Not happening,” Georgia snapped.

“Your Rüya Dokumacı has a debt that I claim,” Hakan immediately replied.

“Debt?” Georgia growled, flashing fang.

“Samson did fry Ediz’s brain,” I offered.

“Stay out of this, El,” Georgia growled. “Mhachkay, you wanna try that again? And this time with a little circumspection.”

“You do not know the meaning of the word.”

Georgia stepped forward, finger raised, and stabbed it at Hakan’s broad chest.

“I’ll show you circumspection, Mhachkay. Back the fuck off. Now!”

“Georgia,” Samson said, sounding resigned. “He can communicate telepathically with his familiar. He wishes to be able to communicate with us.”

Gigi glared at her mate and then turned that glare on Hakan.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“And miss this?” Hakan offered, waving a hand at Georgia’s red eyes.

She hissed. Hakan laughed. Samson sighed.

“He can come with us, Bahar,” Samson acquiesced. “But then we are even.”

Hakan inclined his head.

“Great!” I announced. “It’s all settled. The night grows short.”

“Ellie,” Georgia whispered, stepping forward. “We will find him.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded at my friend.

She reached forward and wrapped me up in a hug. Georgia wasn’t big on touching. Her Dark Shadow was the prickly sort. But occasionally the Nosferatin in the Nothus won out. And right then, her Light shone and wrapped me up, just as securely as her arms did.

“Take care, Nosferatin,” she said.

“You, too,” I murmured in reply.

Her eyes flashed back to red. The Dark Shadow flickered before me; clawed, fanged, black as death.

“We will meet again in Paris, little one,” it said.

“Paris,” I agreed with a nod of my head.

She stepped back and turned away. Samson nodded his head and followed her. Ediz looked at Hakan, something was shared between them, and then the Erbörü was following in their wake.

“How do we get there?” I asked, watching my friends as they skirted fallen masonry in the courtyard and eventually faded into the shadows of the night.

A boat clanked down on the coast. Sea salt hung on the air from the Aegean. Someone laughed when a door creaked open. A cat slunk across the rooftops, chasing a mouse.

“I will take us,” Hakan said.

“What do I need to know?” I asked him, finally turning to face my Savaşçı.

“I can prepare us for Adrianople, but I cannot prepare us for the Light Fey.”

“They’ll be there.”

“The Kral will insist on their protection. He is still weak.”

Not as weak as I’d have liked.

“Where the hell is Goran?” I muttered.

A flash of Light appeared before us, the smell of ozone on the air. The Hyrða guard stepped through the rip in space into Istanbul as if it wasn’t even there.

I snorted. Ask, and ye shall receive.

“Lady Ellie,” the Dark Fey greeted.

“Have fun?” I asked.

“The King has confirmed a new House rules Ljósálfar. War has begun.”

I sighed. “When are you lot not at war with the Ljósálfar?”

He blinked at me. I was guessing all the questions were throwing him off. But I’d done my fair share of Fey politics. With Goran, I was prepared to poke the bear and then cut its head off.

“This war is now official,” he said, and with that answer accepted his fate. I’d be asking questions and not repaying the debt for as long as Aliath assigned him to me.

Poor bastard.

“Adrianople,” I said. Edirne. Whatever. “Let’s do this.”

“Hold my hand,” Hakan instructed.

I reached out and grasped his larger one. His fingers laced with mine; callouses scraping against callouses. We were a good match.

The air shimmered. The sea salt scent disappeared. The world warped and then came into sharp focus. Hakan and I hadn’t even taken a step forward, and yet we appeared in a copse of trees, the silence of night surrounding us; the smell of wet grass and rotting vegetation wafting up to meet our noses. Goran stepped through a portal at our side. I guessed I had the Fey equivalent of a homing beacon somewhere on me. The Hyrða would be able to find me no matter where I was.

I was used to such tactics and right now didn’t have the heart to fight that particular losing battle; somewhere ahead of us were vampires. A lot of vampires. And they all had the distinct feel of the Mhachkay to them; their signatures matching the vampire at my side.

“I am home,” Hakan said softly.

I heard the ache in his heart. I could sense the welcome and relief he was feeling. As well as the loss and disappointment that was wrapped up in this place.

“How far away are they?” I asked.

“Some distance yet,” Hakan advised. “The Kral will have posted sentries. I have placed our arrival outside of his usual boundaries.”

“How do you plan to do this?” I asked, just as Goran pulled his swords, but thankfully didn’t light up the shadows with a flame. “What is it?” I whispered, drawing my Svante. Hakan held his Kilij already in his hand.

“Ljósálfar.”

Damn it! The Kral might have been predictable, but the Light Fey were not.

“How many?” I hissed.

He held up a hand, spreading his five gauntleted fingers wide.

Five against three. Not such bad odds.

I rolled my head on my shoulders, then flicked my wrist, swinging my blade and loosening up.

Hakan did a modified movement with his sword. Goran held his in both hands before him, eyes closed, nostrils flaring. He turned slightly to the right. Then back to the left again. And then he spun and faced our back.

We turned with him.

Goran cocked his head. Hakan stepped away lightly, no doubt intending to flank them. I glanced up into the branches overhead. If we’d been spotted already, then they would have sounded the alarm. But I couldn’t sense panic amongst the Mhachkay behind us. However, if Goran could sense them, then they could probably sense him in return.

I spun, my booted foot connected with a nearby tree trunk. One, two, three bounding steps up, and I made the lowest branch. I jumped and hopped to the next one, and the one after that until I was hidden amongst the thick leaves overhead. I wrapped my Light cloak around me, careful to keep every ounce of Light it had contained. The Light Fey would be attracted to it, and no doubt to anything that made me suitable as a Mœðr.

I wasn’t sure I was one, but Prince Terrin had taken great delight in telling me I would be his. Right before Hakan had sucked him dry and left only a husk on the floor of the prince’s throne room.

Vampires were possessive at the best of times; Hakan was no exception to that.

The sound of a whistle pierced the air. Goran’s swords lit with a flame from hilt to tip. They’d spotted him. Three Ljósálfar entered the small clearing we’d arrived in. They spread out as soon as they saw Goran waiting.

They were steeped in Dark, but underneath it all was something else. Something red and rotten, wet and wild. I wrinkled my nose as the ribbons inside my stomach twisted and turned.

Corrupted. The Ljósálfar had lost their precious Ljós.

One spoke in Fey. I didn’t have a handy-dandy translation for it. I held my breath, wondering where the other two fairies had gone to and watched.

Goran said nothing in reply to their questions.

The closest Fey, all shimmering golden hair and porcelain skin, pulled his sword in a swift, practised movement. The other arrogant bastards did not. I smiled.

Goran nodded his head, almost a bow of respect. Fey fought strangely and yet honourably.

Too bad I was not of the same mindset.

Metal rang out against metal, but I was aware of the Fey ward that had been erected around us. Hakan was outside of that ward. But so were the other two fairies. My Savaşçı hunted. I sat still and waited for Goran to even the odds. If the Light Fey were prepared to fight him one on one, and not gang up on him all at once, then I’d take advantage.

They didn’t know I was here. They hadn’t even looked up. Idiots.

The fairies spun and danced, their movements like a ballet filled with complex magics. Occasionally their eyes shone that impossible to resist green, and I had to look away. They weren’t even trying to capture me and yet their lure was so strong. Hiding out in a tree wasn’t my idea of fighting, but the part of me that had been raised by the Iunctio held me back for the right moment; helped me fight the draw to bow down and kiss their feet.

The moment came when Goran landed a fatal blow. The Ljósálfar who had drawn the short straw and fought Goran first staggered. His free hand went to his stomach, but no amount of holding himself together would keep his guts from spilling out.

I gathered myself in a crouch and then dropped down behind the rear guard, swiping with my Svante as I landed. The fairy spun and shouted. The parasite within him raged. His companion was momentarily distracted, allowing Goran to go in for the kill. I ignored their battle and concentrated on my own; our swords clashed, my Light blazed.

Sparks rained down all around us; metal screeched, blood dripped onto the leaves on the ground. The fairy cocked its head, not showing an ounce of discomfort, despite the fact that I’d used him as a convenient pin cushion. Did they no longer feel any pain?

I lost track of Goran and his final opponent. The fairy before me ramped up the green in his eyes. I pulled on more of my Light and offered the douchebag a smirk. Metal rang. Light clashed. Green eyes kept calling.

I ignored them.

“Enchanted,” the Fey whispered, stunned.

He fell to his knees before me, making me take a step back.

Goran sliced through his neck from behind in the next heartbeat. The fairy’s head rolled over three times before it came to a stop.

I blinked up at the Hyrða.

“He’d stopped fighting!” I snapped.

“He was sending out a call for help.”

Oh. Bloody fairies.

“Did it get out?” I asked.

“Yes,” Goran bit out. “But not the reason for his request for help.”

That was something at least.

The ward had fallen the moment the last fairy did, so I gathered they’d wanted the altercation to go unnoticed. Were relations between the Ljósálfar and Mhachkay not as smooth as we’d expected, then?

The soft sound of feet falling came from behind me. I only heard them because he wanted me to. I turned and faced Hakan, two dead fairies in his grasp.

“An alarm went out,” I told him.

“I heard it,” he said, dropping the bodies next to ours.

“If you did…”

“Then the Kral and his people did as well,” he finished for me.

I swore softly. There went our element of surprise.

“Suggestions?” I asked.

Hakan smiled. “We storm them.”

My father would have been appalled. I just grinned back.

So fierce. So strong. So mine.

And probably about to get us killed.

That thought, though, didn’t stop me running after him; Svante out, Light blinding.

May the goddess help us. This was going to be a mess.

8

It Made Me Mad

The castle was in the centre of Edirne. I thought it might have been a mosque more recently. Now it was once again occupied by the Mhachkay. Four thick stone walls surrounded it and kept the riffraff out. Strategic arched windows dotted the sides beneath square crenelations along the top; the openings wide enough for an arrow or spear to be launched from. Or maybe a burst of Light if you were of that persuasion. A large dome dominated the main building; smaller copies pinpointed important sections of the structure. Rising high into the night sky were four enormous cone-topped spires; the fact they still stood in post-apocalyptic Norm society spoke volumes. What had to have been beautiful gardens, at one time, surrounded three sides of the massive complex. The fourth side hid the only visible entrance behind a drawbridge. It would have looked beautiful in daylight. Under the stars, it was divine.

Light gleamed from the small windows dotted across its face. Fire flickered from behind the twenty-foot tall walls, making shadows dance across the pale bricks. Raised voices and shouts of concern could be heard from inside. The alarm had indeed been raised, and they were waiting.

We skirted the castle, bypassing the drawbridge that clearly led to the front door. Our feet made little sound on the crushed-shell pathways in the surrounding gardens, even when we waded through a small stream that ran through the centre of the castle’s courtyard.

I had thought perhaps Hakan would lead us through there; into the castle’s sewer system or something equally as obvious. But perhaps that was why he didn’t. We continued our near-silent journey around the massive structure and came to rest beside a section of the wall that looked no different from any other.

The majestic wall swept high above us; I craned my neck but couldn’t see to the top. If sentries were there, they were watching the surrounding land in darkness. Better for their night vision; not so good for us. I leaned back against the old and worn bricks and watched as Hakan closed his eyes, hands placed shoulder-width apart against the wall, and then he started murmuring. The words were Turkish, but I still understood them.

He was asking for entrance.

Magic swirled. The sound of bricks grating perforated the still night air. Goran threw up a shield, but if someone was standing guard above us, I was certain they’d still hear. The wall before Hakan split and then separated. Rather like an old wizarding movie I’d watched with Georgia back home in Auckland City once. In the wall’s place was a gap no bigger than two feet wide and four feet tall.

Hakan was going to have to squeeze to get in there.

He stared at it for a long time, sweat beading his brow.

“I was a lot smaller when I made this,” he said.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He looked quite pained at the thought of having to push his overly muscular frame into such a close space.

“Who else knows it is here?” Goran asked.

Hakan turned and looked at the fairy and scowled.

“My brother did, but he is long dead.” I hadn’t known he’d had a brother. “I told no one else.”

“But he may have before he died,” Goran guessed.

Hakan said nothing.

“It’s better than the front door,” I muttered and slipped inside before the two of them started bickering loudly.

Cobwebs floated in the air and draped themselves across my face. I swiped them away, feeling long legs skittering. My hand tightened on the hilt of my sword, and I let a little Light out to see by. I’d walked far enough inside the tunnel to be sure I could keep the Light from spilling out behind us.

I could hear Hakan and Goran scraping the sides of the wall, and then what awaited me came into clearer focus. The tunnel was long and didn’t change size as far as I could see. But seeing was difficult. Before me hung in intricate designs a plethora of silky spider webs.

“If someone else knew about this passage,” I muttered, “they sure as hell have not been using it.”

Hakan rested a hand on my back.

“If you had allowed me to go first,” he countered, “I could have dealt with them.”

“You think I’m afraid of a few spiders?” I asked him.

“I believe you fear very little, hayatim,” he said.

That wasn’t true. I did fear things. I just didn’t show that fear if I could help it.

And I wasn’t about to now.

I sent out a broad beam of Light and fried every creepy crawly before me. It was a bit overkill, and I’m sure if someone from the SPCA were around, I’d be getting handcuffed right about now. But…spiders. I shivered as my Light dimmed back to a normal level allowing decent illumination going forward.

Hakan huffed out a breath behind me but said nothing. I knew what he was thinking, though, and it had nothing to do with being able to talk telepathically. He thought I was scared of spiders.

I snorted and murmured, “You try getting cobwebs out of dreadlocks.” Then crept forward.

The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, but because of our hunched gait, it was probably less than that. The castle wasn’t big enough for the tunnel to be that long, anyway. Even if it did feel like it was brimming with magic.

Finally, though, it came out into a small cavern. The walls were roughly hewn, but lying about the space were rotted cushions and fraying mats and a couple of oak barrels, dusty mugs sitting atop them.

“Secret stash?” I asked Hakan as he stretched to full height behind me.

He smiled and walked over to one of the barrels. Taking the mug, he wiped it out with the edge of his t-shirt and then twisted the tap on the side of the barrel. The sweet scent of alcohol wafted out. He poured a small amount into the mug and then lifted it to his nose to smell. With a shrug of his shoulders, he tipped the mug back and took a swallow.

His face screwed up into a grimace, but he handed the mug to me anyway.

“Ah, I’ll pass,” I said, shaking my head. “Goddess alone knows what juvenile Hakan brewed in his misspent youth.”

“It’s not that bad,” he argued.

I arched my brow at him and said nothing.

He placed the mug back down and turned to the wall that undoubtedly led into the castle proper. There was no outline of an access way. No hinges or door shaped grooves indicating where something might be hidden. I suspected this was rather like the outside wall and would require magic.

Vampires are filled with Sanguis Vitam. It’s their blood life force. It’s what gives their undead bodies life. It’s a magic of sorts, but nothing like the magic the Mhachkay wielded. I’d seen Hakan use spells before. Mages could of course and shields were common for my kind. But the Mhachkay; they were something else. Their magic was vast and powerful, a deep well brimming with silver water. Bursting with potency and begging for your touch.

I was drawn to it. Perhaps that was the kan büyülü in me. The Mhachkay and the Enchanted were made for each other.

I watched now as Hakan again closed his eyes, hands pressed to the wall, lips moving in a barely there movement as he chanted his request for entry into the castle. This time it took longer. The sweat started to dribble down the side of his temples. His hands shook ever so slightly. I wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him, send some of my Light into him to somehow bolster his reserves. But I was too scared of distracting him and making him have to start from the very beginning again.

So, I stood there and watched every single drop of perspiration as it made its way down the side of his face. I watched every change in expression or appearance; dark skin turning paler. I watched and waited, but it almost killed me. I felt the effort and pain he expended trying to get us through that damn wall.

I could have blasted it with my Light. A sledgehammer to something that he was trying to finesse. It would have given us away, but then I would not have had to watch Hakan pour his two hearts and two souls into gaining entry for us.

I hated it. But I respected him enough to let him do his thing without interference or judgement.

It almost killed me to do it, though. Caring for someone, loving them, sucked.

The wall split apart, and Hakan almost fell through the gap he’d created.

I did reach out for him then; wrapping my arm around his sweat-soaked body, throwing his heavy limb over my shoulders, then dragging him through the gap into another shadowed room. Thankfully, this one looked like a storage room, and no one in the castle had thought to check if we’d be hiding with the bags of rice and sacks of grains and barrels of hundred proof.

Goran stepped lightly into the space behind us, his shield still up and around our bodies, thrumming a familiar chiming tattoo in the back of my mind.

I settled Hakan down on a crate of goods and took in the space we’d arrived in. We were definitely inside the castle. The walls were brick just like the external castle walls we’d spied from outside. A thick wooden door stood sentinel between us and the rest of the castle.

Between us and a possible match for Luc for entwining.

I turned back and looked at Hakan. Colour was returning, but he still looked weak. And then in the next breath, he turned into an enormous barn owl.

His Mhachkay soul.

The owl blinked at me and then puffed itself up. With a shake of its feathers, it settled into a quiet stance, blinking…well, owlishly.

“Hey,” I said.

The owl blinked back. I stepped closer; carefully, slowly, so as not to startle it. Reaching out, I stroked down over its chest. I couldn’t reach its head without stretching, so I chose the mottled coloured feathers across its rotund breast. The feathers were soft, and the owl let out a little chirrup sound.

And then the damn thing pecked me on the fingers.

Blood welled where its beak had parted flesh and then Hakan was back, smirking at me.

“My Mhachkay soul is appeased,” he said.

“Your Mhachkay arse is going to get handed to you,” I shot back.

He laughed. He looked better. I shook my head.

My eyes drifted to the door. “What now?”

“Now we find Zahra.”

I guessed Zahra was the witch.

I stared at the door as if I could see through it to the other side. I couldn’t sense anything outside of Goran’s shield, which meant anyone on the other side of the door couldn’t sense us either. But we could be stepping out into a trap. Or into the middle of a squadron of parasitic Ljósálfar.

I pulled my Svante. Goran unsheathed his Fey sword. Hakan simply reached forward and opened the door.

If a vampire had been nearby, it would have heard my frantically beating heart. As it was, Hakan did.

Be at ease, hayatim, he said softly in my mind.

I wanted to snap back at him to mind his own business, but I worked on showing no fear and never giving the damn smug bastard an inch. My guard was way the hell up, so at least that was working.

Hakan smiled at me. It reached his eyes and made him simply gorgeous.

I sighed. I couldn’t stay mad at him. He was my match in this and all worlds.

Hakan stepped out into a mosaic-lined hall and then picked a direction in which to walk. I had no idea if he had a destination in mind, or if he was trying to avoid where the Kral might be. He clearly knew his way around the castle, so Goran and I slipped into the shadows at his back and walked silently after him.

We met no Mhachkay, Erbörü, or Fey, but that was probably because we were on the lowest level of the castle. The storage rooms and cleaning closets and such. Probably a dungeon or two, but if there were, we didn’t pass them. Maybe the Mhachkay hadn’t been back in their ancestral home long enough to dust off the shackles yet.

I wondered, absently, who they’d turned out of the castle to move back in here. Whoever it was hadn’t uncovered all of its secrets. Because in short order, Hakan had us slipping out of sight into a dusty, disused servants’ passage, that ran parallel to the main hallway and had its own rickety set of stairs.

I didn’t bother to blast the spiderwebs this time, Hakan dealt with them in a much more mundane manner. I could live with that, I thought; throwing my Light around willy-nilly wasn’t a good idea in here.

“Lower your shield,” Hakan told Goran.

The fairy complied without argument. Perhaps he knew this was the best place to do so and Hakan needed to sniff out this Zahra woman.

Magic thrummed around my Savaşçı. But there was also a lot of it all around us, out in the castle proper. The Mhachkay magic was pure and in my mind’s eye seemed laced with silver, much like Hakan’s eyes right then. The Erbörü magic was of the earth; grass and loam intertwined. Natural. The golden Light of the Ljósálfar, however, was tarnished. A dull sheen when once it would have shone brightly.

They were here. All through the castle. Clustered together in places where the Mhachkay and Erbörü were not. If the alliance was still working, it was fractured. There was no crossover of silver with gold. Nature with aberration. The three types of magic were quite separate. At least the Mhachkay and their familiars had not yet been infected by whatever had corrupted the Ljósálfar.

I looked over my shoulder at Goran. His head was cocked to the side like an inquisitive bird; his eyes shone a vibrant green that seemed troubled. They might have been at war with their cousins, but the Dökkálfa did not like seeing them corrupted.

It wasn’t looking good for Álfheimr. How was Aliath going to keep this infestation from reaching his court? And who had let the Light Fey become infested?

Was it Terrin? Had he started this? Or was it that cousin of Kaleth’s, the fairy who had stolen my power through my Sigillum in that cave in Ljósálfar? The parasite had to have come from somewhere, but right then finding out where was at the bottom of my to-do list.

I had a witch to catch, and a Mhachkay Kral thrall to break, and then the woman was entwining her blood with my brother.

I couldn’t believe it wouldn’t happen. The alternative was too painful, too raw, to consider.

Hakan paused on the third floor of the castle, which I thought was perhaps only the ground floor. We’d entered through the external wall, well below the level of the bridge that had led to the grand front entrance. So the stairs we’d climbed couldn’t have taken us much further than that first level.

We stood silently, listening to the sound of marching boots and weapons clattering. Mhachkay strode past en masse, but Hakan’s witch I was thinking was not amongst them. He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling of the passage we were in.

We go up? I asked him silently.

I cannot sense her anywhere.

Perhaps she hadn’t made it.

She made it, he said resolutely inside my mind. Zahra has never met a fight she could not win, an argument she could not counter, an opponent she could not better.

Except the Kral, I muttered, not liking Hakan’s hero-worship of this girl.

He turned silver and blue eyes to me and then reached up and cupped my cheek.

“Jealousy suits you, Kafinefendi,” he said aloud. “But please do not kill my cousin.”

I stared at him as his lips twitched and then I let a long breath of air out.

Of course, she was his cousin. Couldn’t he have told me that sooner?

He let out a quiet laugh and then started up the stairs again.

“Her room was on the top floor,” he advised. “Near mine and my brother’s.”

The royal family would have had the choicest chambers in the castle. The ones it would take the longest for the invading hordes to get to. They would have also had a way to escape them. If the witchy cousin were up there, confined to her room for answering back, then the Kral would have made damn sure she couldn’t escape him.

We’d probably need to backtrack back down these stairs to the basement and crawl back out that tunnel Hakan had built. If Zahra didn’t want to come with us, we’d be dragging a limp body.

This should be good.

Hakan paused on the top floor, his head cocked to the side, his eyes pure silver.

“There is a ward,” he said softly.

I couldn’t sense it.

“I can break it,” Goran advised.

Hakan looked at the fairy and said, “It will be alarmed.”

“Then we’ll have to move quickly afterwards,” the Fey replied.

Hakan stepped aside, and Goran approached the concealed door we’d stopped in front of. He muttered a few words under his breath in Fey and then fairy magic spilt out of him.

It washed over my skin, sending goosebumps in its wake, and then the door crept open on noisy hinges, and a gong clanged somewhere in the bowels of the building.

“That’s our cue,” I said, peering around Hakan.

And then spotted the tip of a Kilij that carefully pierced his neck and the fierce-looking vampire who held it.

Goran was out cold on the ground. I hadn’t even seen him fall. And Hakan stood so still, I thought he’d shut himself down. Vampire still. Preternaturally still. It wasn’t normal.

It made me mad.

The woman looked at me over my Savaşçı’s shoulder and said, “Who the hell are you?” in Turkish.

So, I blasted her square in the chest with my Light.

9

Lights Out

Of course, I did. I may not have killed her, but I’d packed a punch in that Light blast, and she’d ended up a crumpled mess on the cold stone floor.

Hakan shook himself free of the thrall she’d held him in and then took in the scene in a swift glance. He looked back at me, eyebrows arched, and then stepped over Goran’s body and walked to his cousin.

“She lives,” he announced.

“You think so little of me?” I demanded.

“Hayatim,” he purred, “you exceed my every desire.”

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest.

“How are we gonna get them out of the castle?” We had two dead weights to carry now.

“I do not know how to wake the Fairy, Zahra used her own brand of Mhachkay magic; it is not commonly taught. But my cousin I can revive.”

“No way. Nah-uh. Not happening. Did you see the sword she held to your neck?”

I could still smell the coppery hint of his blood as it dribbled over his Adam’s apple.

“She is Mhachkay. She is a warrior. It was to be expected.”

“Not to my man it’s not.”

Hakan peered up at me through half-lidded eyes. “Perfect,” he said, his vampyre-half purring.

Or maybe that was the owl. Did owls purr?

I shook my head.

“Can you contain her?”

“Yes.” He sounded certain; he looked less.

“What is it?”

“It will require much of my power.”

“Can I help?”

He shook his head. “If she fights me, if the Kral’s thrall has changed at all over the centuries and I am not strong enough to break it, she will resist.”

“I’ve got your back,” I said, hefting a stake and then twirling it.

Hakan took in the silver weapon flashing and then scowled.

“Give me time to try first.”

“Sure. You’ve got, oh…” I cocked my head, let out a little Light and finished with, “three minutes.”

“The alarm,” he guessed.

“The Ljósálfar,” I offered with a nod of my head.

He nodded back in agreement. He would have been able to tell that his brethren weren’t the ones approaching. But whether he could sense the Light Fey like I could, I didn’t know. They were Dark, and the Nosferatin in me had woken up and started pacing.

Hakan turned toward his cousin and lowered his head. And then a knife appeared in his right hand, and he ran it through his left palm before I could stop him. Blood dripped out of his closed fist, landing in wet splats across Zahra’s tanned face. Aside from the gory addition of blood as warpaint, she was pretty, I decided. But in an uncompromising way.

I doubted the woman allowed her natural beauty to define her. She wore traditional Mhachkay warrior garb; well-worn and scuffed up. Had the Mhachkay been interred immediately after a battle? Her Kilij lay discarded at her side; her long, well-defined legs disappeared under a short leather shirt. Her dark tresses had come undone from the braid she’d worn, and her hair spilt out around her like a silky shroud.

Asleep she looked peaceful. Awake she’d been all tightly coiled energy and barely contained threat. Even now I could sense her power; her magic. And it was…not Dark. But not Light either. It was nothing I had ever seen nor felt before.

What was that magic? It wasn’t like Hakan’s or even the Kral’s. It was different, deeper, stronger perhaps, something else, something indefinable but which reminded me of thick forests and wet leaves and so, so much like the earth.

An earth witch maybe? That could be it. But I wasn’t sure.

Hakan started chanting in Turkish again, but this time I felt his power swell. And then I felt hers swell up to meet it, fight it, battle it. A storm raged in silence.

Beneath me, I felt the Mhachkay stir.

The Ljósálfar were getting closer. “One minute,” I said, turning to face the door.

Goran was still out cold beside the passage we’d used to gain entrance. I wasn’t sure if it was the best place for him or not, but with my back to Hakan and the witch, I didn’t have enough brain space left to work it out. I needed to be ready for the oncoming threat.

And in light of that thought, I replaced my stake with my sword.

I couldn’t protect Hakan from his cousin and protect us all from the oncoming fairies as well. I had to make a choice. And family, even demented, crazy-powerful family won the lottery and got a free pass.

Besides, my Entwined could kick arse.

I rolled my head on my shoulders, flicked my wrists a few times to limber up.

And then heard Zahra suck in a full breath of air.

“Cousin,” Hakan said. He sounded rough. I wanted to turn around; I kept my focus on the door and the approaching Ljósálfar guards.

“Hakan,” Zahra said on a breath of expelled air. “What did you do?”

“Freed you,” he said.

“That was not wise, cousin.”

“We need your help, Zahra. Choose a side and choose it well.”

I chanced a quick glance over my shoulder. Hakan held his Kilij to her neck. Not pricking the skin by its tip as she had done him, but laying the sharp edge of the blade against the side of her neck, ready to slice. Ready to decapitate her.

I let a soft breath out and faced the door again. If I were her, I’d be spitting mad.

“You ask much, Prince,” she snarled.

“Choose,” he said.

Silence. I felt her power, it was contained, but something was happening to it. And I was sure Hakan knew too because I scented fresh blood; he’d pressed his blade in, parting flesh.

“Damn you,” she muttered.

Light flashed, and when I spun back to counter it, a white stork stood where Zahra had been. She flapped her wings in disgruntlement at Hakan and then hopped across the room to the fairy. Bending her head down, she pecked at his cheek. Light washed over him, blood trickled out and pooled in the dip beneath his chin. And then Goran sucked in a breath of air and shuddered.

The stork became a woman again.

“The window, Fey,” she said. “Work your magic.”

Goran was clearly discombobulated, but he shook himself and stood on shaking legs. Reaching down to pick up his swords, he almost toppled over. I didn’t like seeing Aliath’s man so obviously weakened. It went against everything I had been taught. I stepped up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, letting my Light wash over him and clear his head.

He sucked in two quick breaths and then bowed to me. “Thank you, my lady,” he said. His eyes flashed green when he looked up at Zahra again.

“The window, Fey,” she snapped. “They will have located the old passageways and cut them off. The only way out is through the air.”

Through the air. Did she mean what I thought she meant?

I looked at Hakan. He was looking at the door to the room. The door that stood between us and the oncoming Ljósálfar horde.

There were too many for us to fight; even if I blasted them all with my Light, attempting to give us enough time to climb out the window, some would still survive. They had the numbers. We did not.

I drew on more and more of my Light anyway. It was my best weapon when confronted with a mob. I let it thrum beneath the surface, ready and waiting. I heard the feminine sound of a shocked breath of air being indrawn behind me as Goran began to chant in Fey in the background.

“You have entwined,” Zahra whispered, her voice filled with awe.

“You did not know,” Hakan said, no emotion whatsoever evident in his tone.

“I’ve been kept in here since we awoke,” Zahra spat. “No one talks to me.”

“What did you do, Canım?”

She snorted. I growled. Cousin or not, calling her his ‘dear’ was not acceptable.

“She has fire,” the woman commented, clearly not wanting to answer Hakan’s question.

“I will introduce you, cousin, when we are free from here.”

The window shattered. Goran let out a sigh. Light thrummed behind me, painting the walls all around the room in shadows that danced and swirled.

Hakan’s owl appeared at my side. I turned enough to see that Goran was climbing on the stork. Was that why they were so huge, then? So we could ride them?

I wanted to laugh at that, but the door blasted open on a burst of parasitic air, and a dozen rotten Ljósálfar stormed in.

I swung myself up onto Hakan’s back. The stork and Goran had already taken a running leap out of the window. The closest fairy to them lifted his hand and sent out a bolt of Light after them. I blocked it with a shield of my own Light.

Sparks flew. Swords were drawn. A snarl rent the air, and it wasn’t my vampire. Owls might purr, I don’t know, but they definitely don’t snarl. A fairy leapt across the space between us and landed on Hakan’s back. I stabbed him with the Svante and then pushed him off. Another followed suit as Hakan attempted to turn us to face the window. This one managed to get a dagger into the owl’s side; it screeched. I screamed. Light blasted.

And then there was nothing but Light, theirs and mine; one bright, one streaked in red and horribly infected. They were dying, I realised; shock and desolation at the thought washed through me, leaving me feeling weak. What had they done to themselves?

And then we were running and dodging, and doing all sorts of things I didn’t think an owl could do. I was striking and stabbing and blasting, and the fairies were jumping and slashing and countering my blasts of Light. The room lit up; shadows were banished, a red haze covered my eyes, and I didn’t think it was entirely desperation or anger.

Then the owl lifted off the ground and swept up to the high ceiling in the room as the Mhachkay and Erbörü arrived.

Hakan screeched a warning. Or a threat. It was hard to tell. I didn’t speak Owl, and my handy-dandy translation ability didn’t stretch to that. I threw bolt after bolt of Light down below us. The Erbörü snarled. The Mhachkay closed their eyes and started chanting. Several of them changed into birds themselves. We swooped and banked, bolts of Light singeing Hakan’s feathers. One knocked the wind out of me, but I gripped my sword tighter and sent out a broad arc of Light.

The room exploded in tiny shards of red blood-like Light; rubies or garnets scattered across the space, twinkling in a bizarrely beautiful way even though I knew I’d somehow blasted the parasite.

It fought back.

The rubies and garnets twisted and turned and then coalesced into a red streak of Light that bombarded the nearest vampire.

He hadn’t stood a chance. I watched on in horror as the Mhachkay succumbed to the parasite. Like a disease, it ate at his body, at his magic, and then he was snarling and slavering and lashing out with all his Mhachkay might.

A bolt of magic hit me square in the chest. I felt my grip on Hakan’s back slip. The floor of Zahra’s room seemed a long, long way down, but it was getting closer even as my eyesight was dimming.

At the last moment, in a screech of defiance, Hakan’s owl swooped me up in his claws, tossing me up onto his back, and then arrowed us for the window. He was big in any form, but in his Mhachkay shapeshifting form he was bigger than a normal owl. And bigger than his cousin’s stork.

We weren’t going to make it. The window seemed so small. Bolts of Light crisscrossed the space before and behind us. Some hit. Some missed. It was getting harder to think, to breath, to stay alive.

But as the narrow opening approached, I took one last breath of air in and expelled it along with all that was left of my Light.

The wall shattered, the room started to crumble and fall. The Mhachkay, Erbörü, and Ljósálfar screamed in alarm as they all started to tumble down the side of the castle.

And then fresh air met my damp cheeks and the sound of Hakan’s oversized wings beating frantically reached my ears, and the screech of a barn owl filled the night. The answering call of a stork sounded out in the distance.

Magnificent birds of all descriptions started taking flight beneath us, some of them managing to shift forms as they tumbled down the side of the castle with the rubble I’d created. They grasped their fallen familiars in their claws. The fairies who’d attacked us weren’t so lucky. I saw broken bodies and blood splattered on the ground; the light of flames licking all around their fallen forms sent up images I would never forget into my mind.

Someone let out a roar of fury. I thought perhaps it was the Kral. Mhachkay magic surged up after us, but Hakan beat his wings harder, faster, and we just managed to stay out of reach of all that furious power. My skin tingled, a buzz filled my ears, I’d long ago shut my eyes against the sickening sensation of fading eyesight. Or maybe that was the ribbons twisting that was making me feel so dreadful.

“Left,” I managed to rasp, but Hakan heard me. He swooped left, and we missed the bolt of Light.

The Mhachkay, when I looked back and forced my eyes open, had Ljósálfar riding their feathered backs. The Erbörü now chased us on foot answering their masters’ calls.

“Down,” I ordered, as the ribbons instructed.

Hakan swooped us down in a terrifying dive, worse than any rollercoaster I’d ever been on.

“Up, up, up!” I shouted. He obeyed. Light streaked past below us; too close. I could feel its blaze of power, hear the sizzle as it petered out in the distance.

“Over there,” I said, risking raising an arm and pointing at storm clouds on the horizon. I had no idea where Zahra and Goran had gone, but the ribbons insisted the clouds were the best cover we were going to get.

We could have landed. We were some distance from the Mhachkay castle now, but the Mhachkay would have hunted us down from the air, and the Ljósálfar would have lit up the ground to make us easy targets for the Erbörü as they stalked us.

We had to keep flying. We had to stay ahead. Our only chance was to reach those clouds before them and maybe lose them in there.

“Right,” I said, my teeth chattering.

Use our connection, Hakan said inside my head.

I could feel his agony when he opened his mind up to me like that, but speaking inside my head was easier than actually parting my lips and sucking in the super-chilled air. I lowered my cheek to the back of the owl and fisted several of his feathers in my hands, and then sent out directions in my mind.

I didn’t bother to look back at the hunters behind us. I could feel them. I could hear their wings beat. Sense their parasitic Light. And the ribbons told me everything I needed to know anyway.

Right. Down. Left. Right. Duck. Dive. Climb.

The directions went on and on until I thought neither Hakan nor I could keep going.

And then we were surrounded by wet, cloying clouds, our vision blocked, sounds distorted, icicles forming on my eyelashes, inside my mouth, inside my chest.

And my body finally went blissfully numb.

Lights out. The end.

10

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

I woke to scorching heat down my side and the press of a mattress to my back. A fire crackled nearby. The smell of wood burning met my nose; mixed in with Hakan’s complex and delicious signature scent.

There were other scents here also; we were not alone.

I sat up, my hand fisting my Svante sword, my eyes blinking rapidly to focus, my Light thrumming inside; weakly, not at full blasting capacity. But enough I thought to singe whoever had caught us and was stupid enough to still be in the room where we’d been left.

Be at ease, hayatim, Hakan said in my mind. He sounded tired. It was strange to hear such exhaustion in only thoughts.

The room came into focus. It was large and clearly vintage in style; perhaps an old inn or hotel. I could hear noise below us, so we were on a second storey at the very least. The clinking of glasses, music, laughter. A pub.

And this was an inn. We were still in Turkey.

My sword was up before me; rigid, steady. I could hold it like this all day. My brain finally cooperated, and I took in those in the room with us. Hakan lay reclined on the bed at my side. Goran sat in a stiff-backed chair at a worn wooden table in the corner, cleaning his Fey swords.

The witch, Zahra, Hakan’s cousin, stood beside the fire. She looked fierce and wary, but also not depleted or injured in any way or fashion.

She was our greatest threat.

I slowly lowered the sword to my side; still within reaching distance but for now allowing that show of acquiescing. It was daylight out. None of us was getting out of here. Well, none of us of the vampire variety.

And I was not leaving Hakan with that Mhachkay.

Can she be trusted? I asked Hakan silently.

She is free of the Kral.

That’s not an answer.

He sighed. His silver and ice-blue eyes blinked open, and he stared up at me.

I hope she can, but I am unsure, he finally admitted.

That hurt, I thought. She was his cousin. The last Mhachkay family member he thought he could trust. And he wasn’t even sure if he was right.

I looked across the room at the woman. She was watching us and not being polite about it. Her dark eyes met mine. They weren’t blue like Hakan’s. In the shuttered light of the room, they appeared almost black. But that couldn’t be right.

“You are Enchanted,” she said in accented English.

“And you’re a Mhachkay,” I offered.

She smiled. It was in no way friendly.

“Zahra Bahar,” Hakan said, “meet my Entwined. Éliane Durand, daughter of the Champion and the Prophesied.”

Her nostrils flared, and the black in her eyes became a swirling mass of smoke and something I couldn’t decipher. Power rippled off her in ever increasing waves. A tsunami of it that threatened to engulf me. I pulled on my Light, what little I had left of it, and chose the easier and perhaps more diplomatic option of using it as a shield instead of blasting her curvaceous arse with it.

A shield I could hold longer than a sustained blast of Light. But it hurt.

Goran stepped up to the witch and poked her in the side with one of his swords. It was a warning poke. Almost a playful one. But Hyrða weren’t known for their sense of humour; he was following my example.

“Cease and you shall live,” he told her.

Zahra met Hakan’s eyes. He was still lying beside me. For all intents and purposes, he looked relaxed, amused even, as if he was about to watch an interesting TV show and he was mildly interested to see how it would end.

But his thoughts were anything but intrigued right then.

He didn’t speak them to me, but I heard them all the same. A new quirk of our connection when his emotions were heightened?

In any case, he was not happy.

“Éliane is my Entwined,” he repeated in a steady voice. “My Hanımefendi. My wife.” He’d chosen the consort title and not the queen one. I thought perhaps he was keeping his intentions toward the Mhachkay throne a secret for now.

I wholeheartedly agreed.

I didn’t trust this woman. And I expected her to save my brother?

I let out a long sigh.

“Zahra Bahar,” I said. “I am honoured to make your acquaintance. You are welcome in my home and at my hearth. I willingly share my Light.”

It was an old Nosferatin greeting. An acknowledgement of trust she had not earned. But we didn’t have time to draw this out. We needed her cooperation, and one thing my father had taught me growing up was a vampire would do anything to survive at all costs.

Offering this newly awoken and suddenly independent Mhachkay protection and safety would be more than a vampire could discard.

The witch turned dark and smokey eyes on Hakan.

“The Iunctio,” she growled, ignoring absolutely everything I’d said and homing in on Hakan’s reference to my father. Figures. “You have allied with the Iunctio.”

I didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know she was not happy.

“You think they are the same Iunctio of before?” Hakan asked, finally moving to sit upright, but not shifting from the bed yet. He leaned back against the pillows as if he was still relaxed. But he was in a better position now to fight her off if needed.

And that just made me antsy. My fingers itched to reach for my sword. My stakes were still in my hip holsters and much closer, but if I so much as moved a finger toward them, I’d escalate this confrontation into violent territory.

I sat still. I barely breathed. This was between Hakan and his cousin.

Zahra took a step forward. I worked on not making my pulse react.

“They imprisoned us, cousin,” she snarled. The smoke in her eyes seemed so fucking threatening right then. “They put us to sleep and left us to rot in our beds. They cannot be trusted.”

“I do not trust them,” Hakan admitted. “But I trust my Entwined.”

Zahra spared me a derisive glance. “The daughter of the Champion? And how did the Champion beget a child?”

“Nut,” I said.

Zahra didn’t like my interruption, she shot me a look, and I felt it. Even though I still held a Light shield around my body, I felt that look. I felt it deep inside. It was harder to breathe all of a sudden. As if smoke filled my lungs. As if a forest burned and I could feel the raging inferno all around me.

I ramped up my Light, and the heat and smoke retreated.

It left me shaking. I was so weak. I needed to replenish, and that would take time and something that made me happy. A little alone time with my Entwined should do it, but looking at the way Zahra appeared now, I didn’t think she’d be overjoyed to leave us alone for some Light-making nookie.

“The Champion was not the sort to nurture if I remember rightly,” she snapped. “You cannot convince me the vampyre I know parented a child.”

“The vampyre you know met the final death,” I said, realising she thought the Champion would be the same one who was in charge of the Iunctio five hundred years ago.

My father had been Champion of the modern-day Iunctio for about twenty-five years. The world this vampyre thought she knew was long gone.

She flicked a startled glance at Hakan.

“Who is the Champion? Do I know them?”

Hakan’s face didn’t change in appearance, but I felt the sigh he let out right down to my bones.

“Neagoe’s orphaned child,” he said. What?

My father was not an orphan. Although, his family had been killed when he’d been Turned. He’d lost them all. Including his children from that time. Perhaps that was why Hakan called him an orphan.

But then, he had also killed his sire. A masterless newly Turned vampire could be thought of as orphaned, I guessed. And Neagoe Basarb had definitely adopted him in a way.

Papa called Basarb a friend. He still mourned his death. As far as I knew, he’d spent close to sixty years at the Craiovesti Court; learning to live again. He is the man he is today because of Neagoe Basarab.

And the Mhachkay killed his vampyre father. The parent he had chosen for himself after losing everything.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head. So much made sense now. So much of my father’s history. Of who he is. Of the strained relationship he had with Hakan. Of the rage he felt towards the Mhachkay and their prince.

And yet, he had let me go to Hakan; leave with him. For Luc. For us, I realised. Maybe it wasn’t just the Ambrosia who knew we needed to be Entwined. Maybe Papa had known, and he had tried to keep it quiet. If the older councillors on the Iunctio had known what it would take to keep Luc’s and my blood enchanted powers contained, would they have let us live?

My father had been protecting us. Through everything. Through it all. He had been protecting us.

I let out a little sound from the bottom of my heart and blinked open tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with her?” Zahra asked.

“My Hanımefendi has just had an epiphany of sorts,” Hakan murmured.

My father loved me. He loved us so much; he’d let us go. He’d let us go to his mortal enemy.

I wanted at that moment to see him. To hold him. To Visit with him in a Dream. He’d lowered his guard in those. He’d let us see who he really was, who Neagoe Basarab had made him. Outside of his Dream Visits, he’d machinated. He’d schemed and planned, and did everything he could to make us appear strong and stable; an asset to the Iunctio, not a bomb waiting to go off.

I let out a breath of air, allowing this new reality to settle about my shoulders.

My eyes met Zahra’s.

“My father is Michel Durand. He is kindred to the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor. The most Light-filled Nosferatin in the world. Her Light is his Light. His Light is her Light. The Iunctio of old is gone. You have awoken in a new age, vampyre. It might be broken, but it is not all Dark.”

“You are the daughter of the Prophesied,” she said.

She took three abrupt steps back and sank into a chair.

I guessed she’d missed that part earlier when Hakan had listed my heritage.

“I am,” I said. “My mother is the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor, the Prohibitum Bibere, and the Lux Lucis Tribuo. The Prophesied.”

“I remember,” she said softly. “I remember the prophecy.”

“Well,” I said, “it was realised.”

“We have missed so much,” she muttered.

“And the Kral does not care,” Hakan added.

“Tell me,” she said, lifting dark eyes to his. Smoke no longer swirled within them. Power was still there but banked. Like a fire at night, left to warm the house but not destroy it.

“Five hundred years, cousin,” Hakan said. “Wars have been won and lost. The Dökkálfa are free, their Light brethren chained. Although they too have escaped their captivity. A new King sits upon the Dark Fairy throne. He is my Entwined’s godfather.”

I snorted. Three sets of intrigued eyes flicked toward me.

“He thinks he is,” I said. “My parents humour him about it. My godparents are vampires.”

“My Lord King is your godfather,” Goran announced. “It has been decreed.”

“In Faerie,” I said.

“Yes. All know this.”

I shook my head. A fairy godfather.

“OK,” I said, not wanting to encourage the Fey any further.

Goran nodded his head and settled back in his seat as if he’d been about to jump out of it and battle anyone who said otherwise.

“The Norms know,” Hakan offered.

“Know what?” Zahra asked.

“About vampires and fairies,” I said. “The ghouls and shapeshifters have stayed under the radar. But it won’t be long before the cat - or whatever - is out of the bag.”

Zahra swore softly.

“The world is in chaos,” Hakan remarked. “Although I have found their chaos to be rather…acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” I demanded. Half broken cities and humans armed with garlic? That was acceptable?

“You have technology I find quite useful,” he said.

“Television?”’ I offered.

“What is television?” Zahra asked.

I smiled at her. “You are going to love Twilight,” I said. “Or Interview With A Vampire. Oldies but goodies.”

“What is she saying?” Zahra asked Hakan in Turkish. “I hear words, but none of it makes sense. And what is this strange accent she has? It is disgusting. Can she not talk like the English do? Have things changed that much?”

“New Zealand,” I told her. “I’m a kiwi. Well, half of me is, and I was raised there.”

She blinked at me.

“1642,” I added. “You might have heard of Abel Tasman?”

Zahra placed her hands on her hips and glared at Hakan.

“You have entwined with a madwoman,” she said.

I looked first at Zahra and then at Hakan. Then kept flicking my gaze between the two. Finally one of them moved.

Hakan let out a soft breath of air and then burst out laughing. His laugh was deep and resonant; from inside his chest. A chuckle I could feel to the tip of my toes. My Light soaked it up and basked in it.

As I did.

Zahra blinked at him.

“It is contagious, then,” she announced. “Typical.”

Speaking of contagious things…

“How did the Ljósálfar get involved with your Kral?”

That she understood easily enough.

“I do not know.” In English again. Perfectly pronounced English even if it was still a little accented. She probably thought she sounded like the Brits do. I suppressed the smirk that wanted out at that ludicrous thought. “I awoke, and there was a foul scent on the air,” she added. “My magic did not like it. It felt…”

“Corrupted,” I said.

“Yes, exactly! Corrupted. And then I met one of them.” She looked at Hakan again. “I was not myself, I will admit, but the fairy had it coming.”

“What did you do, Zahra?” Hakan asked.

She rolled her eyes. It was a perfectly normal human thing to do and one that looked hilarious on the black-eyed witch.

“I ate him.”

Ugh. “Really?” I said. “Didn’t he make you sick?” Fairy blood was not good for vampires. It possessed very little in the way of health benefits with a hell of a lot of natural emetics mixed in.

“Zahra does not mean feeding in the vampiric sense,” Hakan said. She eats their souls, he added silently.

For a second, I did nothing. Thought nothing. Said nothing.

That was what I felt, what I sensed within her. Not Dark, strangely enough, but Black.

Zahra Bahar was a Black Witch. A Cadı of Muska.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I snapped.

11

He Didn’t Know

“You want to entwine the blood of a Black Witch with my brother’s?” I shouted.

Hakan had convinced Zahra and Goran to go downstairs and test the shields and wards the fairy had placed on the hotel. We were alone in the room for a short while. I was pacing. Hakan was still on the bed; semi-reclined.

He watched me with silver-laced eyes and the hint of a smile that was begging to be slapped off his face. I flexed my fingers in anticipation.

“Luc, who dances in the sunlight and whispers sweet nothings to his many girlfriends!” I added. “Luc, who hasn’t got a mean bone in his body and who would rather die than betray a friend! Luc, who…”

“Is now Dark,” my Savaşçı said.

Argh! My Light swelled, ready to blast the entire building apart.

Hakan jumped up off the bed in a vampire-fast motion and wrapped me up in his arms. It wasn’t so much his nearness, the fact that he’d come to me when he saw I was in pain. It was the fact that he’d limped, had favoured his injured side. That he had moved himself anyway.

My Light pulled back inside me, and I let myself fall into his willing arms. He stroked a hand down my spine, cupped the back of my head, and then kissed me on my forehead.

He didn’t say it. He didn’t need to. Luc was not the same person he once was.

He was no longer my fun-loving, carefree brother.

“Damn it,” I muttered. Hakan said nothing. “Your side,” I offered. “Why is it not healing?”

“My well is empty,” he murmured, holding me to him as if he could hold us both together by aligning our bodies just right.

“Your Mhachaky magic?”

“And my Sanguis Vitam. One is not wielded without the other for a Mhachkay.”

“You need to feed,” I surmised.

“And you need Light. Allow me, Éliane.”

“Two birds. One stone,” I said.

“Two hearts. Two souls. And they have chosen.”

I smiled. His fingers cupped my chin and lifted my face to his. His kiss was soft and also hungry. A dichotomy that did delicious things to my body.

A low growl emerged from the back of his throat. “We do not have time, hayatim,” he murmured.

“I can do quick,” I offered with a small smile.

“I can not,” he told me and smirked.

Shaking my head, I reached up and swept my dreads off to the side, exposing my neck. I tilted my head and watched his beautiful blue eyes burn with silver coated ice.

He pulled me closer; hips to hips. His hand coasted down the side of my body, over my breast down to my waist, and then he swept his palm over my butt cheek and pulled me tighter to him.

He was hard and erect; ready and wanting. But any moment now Goran and Zahra would return. It was bad enough if they barged in while Hakan was feeding. Although feeding publicly was not considered inappropriate for a vampire.

But feeding Hakan while he was turned on, I thought, was asking too much.

“Why didn’t we get separate rooms?” I rasped.

“An oversight,” Hakan purred. “And one I am ruing at this moment.”

His lips trailed over my neck, his tongue followed. He nipped me and made my body jerk. And then Sanguis Vitam flowed out to soothe me. I let him; it felt good. Better than good; it felt like a hundred hands stroking, a thousand fingers searching, and an infinite number of sensations bursting all over my skin; deep down inside.

His fangs scraped over flesh. My Light swelled on the wave of euphoria that followed. And then they pierced skin, and he swallowed me down like a fine wine.

I shuddered against him, a climax immediately stealing all thought. My Light blossomed and grew, his Sanguis Vitam surged. Together they danced, and it was divine. Magic swirled around us. I saw the zilant, Hakan’s vampire-within. I saw the owl, its round eyes blinking. And then all I saw, all I felt was the vampire, the man. Him.

He jerked against me. A growl sounded up in the back of his throat, mixing in with the purr that hadn’t stopped since he’d started feeding. His tongue lapped. His hands roamed freely. I felt him rock his hips against my stomach and then I fell apart all over again when he sent me his thoughts.

Tastes so divine. Light so pure. Blood so powerful. Mine. I am lost. Drugged. Entwined with a miracle. Wrapped up in delight. So hot. So seductive. I could come.

Then come, I whispered back.

He spun us to the bed; my back hit the mattress, his body covered mine, and then we were moaning and rocking and falling apart at our cores. Light brimmed. Sanguis Vitam stroked. I orgasmed again with a cry of surprise. He groaned his release and licked the punctures on my neck.

Kan büyülü, he said, resting his forehead against mine. Kafinefendi, he added. Hayatim, he purred. Mine.

Mine, I said in reply.

We lay panting, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Light swirled all around us. Sanguis Vitam danced.

A soft knock sounded out on the door.

“They are back,” he said, cupping my cheek, staring into my eyes. “I must shower,” he added. I tried not to smile like an idiot. “Can you be in the same room as my cousin?”

“Of course,” I said a little too sharply.

Hakan smiled. I sighed. He laughed and climbed off the bed, pulling me up with his hand clasped in mine.

“Behave, hayatim,” he said, tapping me on the arse.

I spun and kicked him in his.

“You better hurry,” I taunted. “Goddess alone knows what I’ll do to your cousin while you’re gone.”

He shook his head at me and stepped lightly out of the room, into the attached ensuite bathroom. I crossed to the door, schooled my features into a more warrior-like mask, and opened up.

Goran stepped in, not making eye contact. Zahra followed behind, inhaling deeply and obviously through her nose as she passed.

Witch.

“If only we could open a window,” she said and sighed.

I presumed the window was to clear out the scent of sex.

I say again…Witch.

I closed the door and leaned back against it, arms crossed, chin lowered, half-lidded eyes on the vampire before me.

“If only we hadn’t been interrupted,” I offered.

She screwed up her nose at me and hissed. Even hissing, she was strangely attractive.

Luc would like her, I thought. The old Luc would have tried to befriend her first. The new Luc…

I didn’t want to think what his endgame would be where this woman was concerned.

“The shields all in order?” I asked Goran.

“Nothing and no one has tested them, my Lady.” He’d reverted to formal titles again. Possibly to send a message to Zahra.

I crossed the room and took a seat at the table, closer to the fairy than the Mhachkay. And wasn’t that telling? Zahra looked at the bed, then looked away again, her gaze catching mine.

“Did you feed?” I asked.

Her brow arched. “There was not time,” she said.

“Would you like a vein?”

She cocked her head at me. Goran had paused in whatever activity he’d been undertaking.

“You would offer to feed me?” Zahra asked.

“Much can be determined from the way a vampire feeds,” I said.

“Ah,” she said. “You wish to test me.”

I would be damned if I foisted this witch on my brother without getting a feel for her true self first.

“What is your talent, little one?” she asked.

Little one from the Dark Shadow I could handle.

Little one from Hakan’s cousin I could not.

“My talents are my own,” I told her, “Witch.” The last was added with a sneer.

“If you think that is an insult, you do not know my kind.”

I leant forward and said in a smooth voice, “And you, Mhachkay, do not know my brother or me.”

“Your brother,” she said, eyes narrowing.

Damn it. Had Hakan not told her? What did she think she was needed for? Her magic?

I sighed. Of course, she thought Hakan needed her for her magic. Her magic was unique. Powerful. Coveted by her kind.

The door to the bathroom opened and Hakan walked out in jeans and no shirt. He rubbed at his hair with a towel and prowled across the room as if he hadn’t walked into the middle of ground zero.

“She has a brother,” Zahra said to him.

Hakan turned and looked at me. I could see the question in his eyes.

Yes, yes, I let it slip. Bite me.

Hakan smiled. Fang peeked out behind his beautiful lips.

“Éliane is a twin,” he simply said, and then kept towelling himself dry.

“Two of them,” Zahra whispered. “That is why.”

That is why Hakan freed her.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Paris,” Hakan said. “Ediz has located him.”

I sat up. Hakan offered me an apologetic smile.

“I have just heard, they have his location and are awaiting nightfall to strike.”

“Can we get there in time?” I asked, sounding a little too desperate.

“The Weaver and Nothus will wish to strike at twilight,” he explained. “Less chance of Dupont escaping.”

Alain would need full night to venture out from where they were hiding. He was too Dark now for anything else.

“We could go early,” I said. Hakan could handle a little twilight. And Goran and I had no such problem with sunlight.

“Zahra cannot walk under the sun.”

I looked at the witch. She glared at Hakan as if he’d divulged a state secret. I guessed, to her, it was.

“That’s too bad,” I offered. It was bad. It was more than bad. It was a disaster.

I couldn’t very well suggest leaving her here; she was needed. So we’d go when night fell and trust Georgia, Samson and Ediz to trap Alain and my brother. I wanted to be there. I wanted to reassure Luc. I wanted to check on Alain.

I could do nothing. I felt impotent. I felt frustrated.

“Do I have a say in this, cousin?” Zahra asked. She was leaning against the wall beside the fireplace.

She looked like a weapon ready to strike.

Hakan finished drying himself off and gently laid his towel across the back of a chair in front of the fire. I admired his restraint and natural aversion to dropping wet things on the floor, but I was getting impatient for his reply.

Would he force her? Could I if he didn’t? Did I want to?

“My Entwined offered you her blood,” he said instead of answering. “Will you dishonour her by not partaking?”

Dishonour him, he meant. But I’d accept it. I’d grown up with that way of thought. The world may have changed a hell of a lot since the Mhachkay were imprisoned, but some things never changed, no matter what.

I stood up and walked across the room to Zahra. I could tell she wanted to ask Hakan what I could do with a bite. Nosferatin were powerful. We could shield and attack with our Light. In the case of my mother, she could banish a vampire’s Dark and exchange it with her Light - if they let her. If they didn’t, she staked them. I wore stakes, too. Zahra would have been aware of them. In such close proximity, I could stake her in her twin hearts just as easily as my mother did those who did not take up her offer of absolution.

But that wasn’t what had the witch worried. And I wondered again about what the Mhachkay knew of my kind.

I offered a thin-lipped smile and presented my wrist. My neck was Hakan’s, and even if he were willing to go along with this, he would never willingly allow another vampire, trusted or not, to sip from my carotid.

Zahra sighed.

Reaching out she mumbled something in Turkish, which I took to mean thank you for lunch, and then brought my wrist to her lips. She licked. Her eyes widened, smoke swirled inside. And then before either of us could back out of what was undoubtedly a bad idea, she bit.

Fangs pierced skin, the scent of blood met my nose, Zahra made a sound in the back of her throat.

And then she was drinking, and the ribbons inside were twisting, and I wasn’t standing in the middle of a hotel room somewhere on a back road in the former Ottoman Empire being fed on by a vampire.

I was somewhere else.

The Mhachkay castle, I thought. It was different from how it had seemed on our recent incursion. Lamplight lit the hallways. Tapestries hung on the walls, none of them faded. A plush rug ran down the middle of the corridor. Sound emerged from the right. I looked, and I was standing in a great hall. Tables were laden with food, both the Norm and vampire kind. Roasted meat and fat drizzled vegetables. Fluffy cakes and pitchers of ale. A blood whore in skimpy clothes reminiscent of the Renaissance period.

A vampire with silver eyes fed from the neck of a barely dressed woman. Another kicked back and bit into a chicken leg, hot juices running down his chin and onto well-worn leather. Zahra walked through the lines of tables, head held high, back straight, long dark hair hanging loosely down her spine.

All eyes tracked her movement. A ripple of respect ran through the crowd.

One or two got turned on by her presence and the desires they harboured for her. For her power, not necessarily for her body. Though there was some of that, too.

She ignored it all and stepped lightly through the companionable atmosphere. I followed her without even trying until we were standing in an ornately decorated anteroom and the Kral was looking up at Zahra with hunger in his eyes.

“Uncle,” she said.

“Come sit with me, girl,” he ordered, tapping the seat at his side.

There was barely room enough for one, let alone two of their size.

Zahra inclined her head and did as her uncle bid her; sitting down beside him, not even trying to sit as far away as I knew deep down inside she wanted to right then.

She was good at politics, I thought. She knew when she was backed into a corner.

The Kral wrapped an arm about her shoulders and hauled her into his side. He reached up and stroked a finger down her neck. The movement was laden with innuendo.

Zahra stared straight ahead.

Vampires did bite other vampires. In battle. In lust. But only mates could sustain each other. Biting for feeding was a waste of time and effort, and considered inappropriate.

He looked at her vein as if it would sustain him for life.

I shuddered.

“He has been seen in Turkey,” the Kral said. “Constantinople. A little bird told me his familiar found him. He nursed the creature back to health.”

Zahra said nothing.

“I have wondered,” the Kral said softly, his arm about her shoulders tightening, the fingers of his other hand gripping Zahra’s chin firmly. He turned her to face him. “Who could have let the Erbörü go? Surely not one loyal to me. Surely not my little Zahra. My girl.”

Zahra stared him in the eyes and said nothing. Smoke whorled within their darkened depths. Silver sliced through it and held her immobile.

“It is a betrayal,” he murmured. “It breaks my heart. Why must you make me do this, Zahra?”

She made a choked sound as if she wanted to say something, but he wasn’t letting her.

He leaned forward. First, he placed his forehead against hers as if saddened. And then he kissed her. She didn’t struggle. I don’t think she could have. I watched as the smoke inside her eyes danced and twisted faster and faster and faster. But her magic was powerless against the Kral’s.

He squeezed her cheeks between his thumb and fingers and kissed her harshly. The kiss of death.

He pulled back. Searched her eyes.

“As you are blood, I will allow you one sentence in defence.”

She gasped in air and shook herself. He watched on impassively.

“Well?” he said.

She lifted smoke-filled eyes to his face and stared at him defiantly.

“Hakan Bahar is the true King,” she said.

He backhanded her. Then gripped her by her hair. My last look, before the ribbons tore me away, was the Kral dragging her towards a bed.

I came to, Zahra’s fangs out of my wrist, a horror-filled look in her eyes as she stared at me.

I fell backwards, scrabbled across the floor like a crab, and then promptly turned and puked my guts out.

The room went silent.

Hakan appeared at my side.

I forced myself to look at the woman across the room from us.

She met my eyes.

“You know,” she said, and the pain those words carried made Hakan still. Preternatural still.

He didn’t know.

I shared a look with Zahra. It spoke volumes. It clawed at my heart and left only shreds. She didn’t want her cousin to carry that guilt. She begged me not to tell him.

I slowly nodded my head. She closed her eyes, her body shaking. A detente was met.

Zahra would never betray us to the Kral because the Kral had betrayed her first.

12

I Have No Doubt

Night fell with the swiftness of a guillotine blade. I feared it would be as bloody.

Zahra had retreated into herself. She’d asked no more questions of my brother. Of what Hakan and I were asking of her. She nursed her wounds while Hakan prowled. He knew she was hiding something from him, but no amount of cajoling would make the Black Witch divulge her secret.

A secret I now knew.

I still felt sick to my stomach at the thought. A part of me had naturally softened toward the Mhachkay woman. But empathy was not what Zahra wanted. She wanted my silence.

And when the time came, she would want what I could offer. Her uncle. And his final death on a silver platter.

I wasn’t sure if my blood enchanted powers were strong enough to combat the Kral; her black magic hadn’t been. But given the right circumstances, a silver stake through his twin hearts could do the job just as well. I just had to get close enough.

First, though, I wanted to save my brother.

“It is time,” Hakan said. Zahra stirred, but one look at her eyes and I knew she was still not entirely present. Goran sheathed his recently cleaned and sharpened blades and stood to his full height.

I checked my stakes. My Svante. My Light. I did it twice before I stopped myself from fussing.

I was nervous. And, if I were honest with myself, I was scared. Terrified.

Never show fear, my mother’s voice sounded out inside my mind. A memory. One of many I had of her saying those exact words. Never show fear, Ellie. No matter what you feel. Never show fear.

It had taken a long time to learn how to do that. About as long as it had taken me to learn how to think before I spoke. Another lesson my mother had had to repeat often before I finally got it.

I schooled my features now and faced Hakan. He knew what I felt. He said nothing, simply held out his hand for me to grasp. I took it as though it was a lifeline.

My warrior prince had a soft heart; guarded with the steel of a Mhachkay sword.

I loved him. I loved everything about him. He may not have been my kindred, but he was my heart.

My mother would be proud. I had done it. I had entwined my blood with someone I loved. Someone who was worthy.

The betrothed kindred joining with Alain Dupont seemed like a lifetime ago. And now I understood better what my father had been trying to achieve, the fact he’d kept the secret from his most favoured spymaster made sense as well. It also made it easier to accept that part of my history finally. Alain had not been aware of what joining with an Enchanted would do. Perhaps Papa could have saved Luc from further Darkness had he confided in Alain at some point.

But Alain and been hiding things from my father. His increased strength. His increased speed. He was more than what he seemed, and I wondered if my father had suspected.

It was a dangerous tightrope the Champion walked. Trust versus survival. His children’s Light versus the spymaster’s Dark. He trusted in our power. In the blood that flowed through our veins. His and Mama’s blood. Enchanted.

I would not let him down.

“Let’s do this,” I said.

Zahra huffed out an unamused breath of air. I hit her with my Light. Nothing deadly. Nor debilitating. Just enough to let her know who she was laughing at and what the consequences would be if she tried that shit with me ever again.

It also served the purpose of waking the warrior in her up. She snarled and flashed fang, smokey ribbons twisting in her black eyes.

“That’s better, Witch,” I said.

Hakan squeezed my hand briefly; a reprimand or encouragement, I wasn’t sure. And then we were standing on the steep steps of Montmartre, the Sacré-Cœur looming above us, those quaint lantern-like lamp posts guiding the way. Stars twinkled overhead, fighting against the light pollution that is Paris. Even Paris post the Norm uprisings had electricity to spare. As if it were a matter of pride. The City of Light would never go Dark.

I sensed Nosferatin nearby. I sensed vampires. The Iunctio had long ago abandoned this place, but Nosferatu as a whole would never turn their backs on France.

Why here? Why so close to the Nosferatin house? Why would Alain risk discovery?

Was it a call for help?

I shook my head; disappointed in myself. I was transferring my hopes and wishes onto the Dark vampire. It was more likely he wanted to strike a blow against the vampire hunters. To punish them for what had transpired.

I needed to warn Yves.

But warning the leader of the local vampire hunter chapter came second only to finding my brother.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“This way,” Hakan said. “The Hundr and her Weaver have them contained. Ediz is standing guard; waiting for us.”

Relief coursed through me, but I squashed it with a ruthlessness I had long ago learned to possess. Anything could go wrong. And it probably would. Nosferatin were closing in on our position.

It wasn’t us drawing them closer, though; none of the vampires with me were Dark enough to catch their attention. Even Zahra who was black of heart and soul and eyes. Dread filled me; it nibbled away at little parts of me, slowly consumed me whole.

I picked up my pace and followed behind Hakan, sticking to the shadows as much as possible, keeping a hold on my Light. The Nosferatin would be called to that just as much as they were called to Alain’s and Luc’s Dark. I would not give them another reason to hunt tonight.

I sensed them long before the house they were holed up in came into view. Georgia might have been able to contain them, but she’d not been able to contain their Dark. It spilt out onto the cobbled streets of Montmartre like an oil slick. Thick and ugly. I could almost smell the harsh chemicals of a real oil slick; it felt so lifelike.

Ediz stepped out of the shadows beside the front door of the building they were in and approached Hakan. They embraced; the Erbörü nodding his head to Zahra in recognition and greeting. And then we were stepping inside.

The light was low; the shutters were drawn, despite it being night. The stairs creaked as we climbed them. The house felt like it was swaying, but that could have been me; I was keyed up, my fingers shook, my breaths were panted.

I struggled to control my emotions, to show no fear as my mother had taught me. I struggled. But it was impossible when I was this close to Luc. My twin. My mirror. His Dark called to my Light.

My Light called to him as well.

We stepped into a shadowed room; lamps lit the space, chains rattled. Silver tainted the air. Luc snarled. He jerked up from where he’d been crouched and sprang toward me. Fangs glinted in the dull light.

Fangs, I thought numbly; standing still. Not even raising an arm to protect myself.

The chains pulled Luc up short, but had they not been there, he would have reached me.

Dear Nut, I thought. Help us.

“Luc,” I said, and then had to clear my throat. The sound of my voice, however, even rasping, made my brother snarl.

A hiss emerged from the opposite side of the room. I flicked a glance over to Alain. He was chained up too, but he also had the added bonus of a vampire sitting on his torso. Samson looked across the room to me, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Don’t say it,” I snarled. He said nothing. Everyone stayed quiet.

I walked toward my brother. My legs felt weak. My head felt a little too light. I walked forward anyway; nothing would keep me from Luc. My feet took me into striking distance; if he attacked now, his chain would let him reach me. Before I made his side, I crouched down. Eye to eye.

His eyes were darker. Not the hazel we used to share. His skin was pale. He wore dirt-smeared jeans and a grubby singlet that used to be white. His Sigillum blazed. Black. No colour. I searched out his Dark. There was no parasite. But he was consumed in Darkness; it ate him. It was devouring him.

He didn’t have much time.

“Zahra,” I said, keeping my eyes on my brother.

The Mhachkay witch stepped forward. She was still dressed in warrior garb. Luc tracked her. He sensed the predator in her, but rather than be cowed, he licked his lips and grinned.

It broke my heart.

Zahra growled back, fangs down, smoke swirling in her eyes.

“You ask much, Entwined of my cousin,” she said; her words for me, not my twin. I wasn’t even sure if Luc had understood them. He kept watching the witch with a glint in his eyes.

“He’s dying,” I said.

“He is already lost.”

I spun and placed a stake against her heart. “Don’t say that!”

She didn’t move. Didn’t retreat. Didn’t bat an eyelash.

“His Dark has consumed all Light,” she murmured. “He is lost, my Kafinefendi.”

Unbidden tears pricked my eyes. She was showing me respect. I didn’t deserve it. But she delivered the blow by couching it in titles. Kafinefendi meant Queen. I’d seen it in my ribbon vision; she thought Hakan was the true Mhachkay King. Not the Kral. She was letting me know she accepted me as her Queen, as well.

But I would not accept her assessment of my brother.

“He’s not lost. He’s still in there. He’s a good man,” I said. “Far better than me. Far better than any of us. His heart is big,” I cried, almost pleading. “His capacity for love is limitless. His Light used to shine brighter than mine. It’s still there. It has to be.”

Hakan approached from the side.

“Hayatim,” he said softly.

I stepped back, shaking my head. “No,” I said. “No. Don’t say it.” Don’t tell me you agree with her.

“Éliane,” he tried.

No. No, I wouldn’t believe it.

I spun back and fell to my knees in front of my brother.

“Fight it, Luc!” I shouted, slapping my hand down on the wooden floorboards. “Fight it, damn you!”

I sent out my Light. I bathed him in it. The Dark drank it down.

“Luc!” I cried. “Fight!”

He consumed my Light; his eyes blazed red. He threw back his head and snarled.

“Nosferatin approach, little one,” the Dark Shadow said from behind me.

I reached out for my brother.

He attacked.

Hakan roared. The Dark Shadow pounced. Sanguis Vitam and Mhachkay magic swirled all around us.

Claws scraped down my arm, over my Sigillum. Blood pooled and dripped onto the floorboards. Luc flashed fang at me and hissed. Alain joined him.

There was no intelligence there. There was no thought. No comprehension. Only instinct. Fight and survival and the Dark.

My brother, the son of the Champion, the firstborn of the Prophesied, had gone rogue.

My palm itched. That Nosferatin Pull I’d been ignoring in the back of my mind ramped up. The door downstairs banged back against the wall as it opened. Booted feet came running.

Ediz growled and then in a flash of light shifted. A slavering beast waited to greet my Light-filled brothers and sisters.

I stared around the room, searching for a miracle. For a way out. Light thrummed. Dark drank it. Three Nosferatin stormed into the room. I sprang up and placed my back to Lucien, a Light shield materialising and locking us in behind it.

I hadn’t thought to reach out and protect Alain, but from the corner of my eye, I realised Samson had disappeared. And so had Papa’s spymaster. Samson had changed reality. I knew they were there still because I’d seen them there seconds prior. But those Nosferatin who had entered the room did not.

Still, their eyes were drawn to that corner of the room, as if drawn there to Samson’s increasing Dark.

I panted for breath; sweat beaded my brow. Hakan and Goran stood outside of the Light shield. Somehow Zahra had been trapped inside. I hadn’t seen her approach. My attention had all been for my brother. But she’d come closer. Closer than I thought wise. Her smoke-filled eyes studied my brother. Mhachkay magic mixed with the black of her power wrapped around us.

“Éliane Durand,” a male voice said.

My gaze flicked to the owner of the voice and met the narrowed eyes of the leader of the Parisian Nosferatin.

“Yves,” I said. My upbringing had me bowing.

He did not return it.

His eyes tracked over my Light shield and then landed on my brother. A brief show of shock flashed across his features and then was gone.

“Lower your shield,” he said.

“No,” I replied.

“Nosferatin,” he growled. “Lower your shield.”

I held strong. Hakan stepped between Yves and my body, blocking the Nosferatin’s line of sight.

“Who are you, vampyre?” Yves asked.

“Bey Hakan Bahar of the Mhachkay.”

“The Mhachkay? The Mhachkay have awoken? Who freed you, murderer?”

My Light pulsed. Hakan’s Sanguis Vitam surged. Goran stepped forward and cocked his head like a bird, studying the leader of the vampire hunters.

“And a Dökkálfa Hyrða,” Yves murmured. The unsaid being that he and his hunters had walked into a political nightmare. “What interest does the Dark Fey King have here?”

“Éliane and Lucien Durand are under the protection of His Majesty, Aliath, King of Dökkálfa and the Fair Lands, Herra of the Grey Lords,” Goran said.

“And yet he sends only one Hyrða,” Yves countered.

“One Hyrða. Two swords.” Goran pulled his Fey swords from their scabbards and let them ignite. Flames licked over their blades, sizzling and crackling. Almost matching the electrical frisson in the air; the physical manifestation of our combined anticipation and distrust.

Yves looked back at my Light shield.

“You make this harder than it needs to be,” he said.

No one replied.

“This is not what I thought I would awake to this evening,” he added, his voice subdued and full of sorrow. “But the Pull is never wrong. And even the Champion cannot argue against a Nosferatin Pull, child.”

“We just need time,” I said.

“Eliane,” Yves replied. “If there was time to give, do you not think I would give it? In honour of your mother?”

There wasn’t time. Luc was Dark. He had no Light.

I turned and looked down at my brother. He was crouched, but instead of snarling at me, his eyes were all for the Black Witch before him. He looked at Zahra as though she hung the stars. I sucked in a breath of air.

Because Zahra looked back down at him as if he held the answers to the universe.

“Witch?” I said softly. “Can you do this?”

“It is complex,” she murmured, her eyes all for Luc and his Dark. “It is intricate.”

“Zahra,” Hakan urged. “Can it be done?”

She slowly nodded her head. “I would have to entwine them both.”

“Both?” Yves queried. No one answered him.

“It will change them,” the Mhachkay witch said.

“They’ve already been changed beyond recognition,” I offered, desperate for her to say yes.

She spared me a glance. “My magic will change them beyond comprehension, Kafinefendi,” she said. “I cannot guarantee they will survive.”

I looked back over my shoulder at Yves. More Nosferatin were coming. I could feel them. Paris had once had dozens. I realised the Nosferatin leader had been recruiting again.

Had he foreseen this? Had his house?

I turned my attention back to Zahra and Lucien. They were staring at each other.

“I need the vampyre,” she said.

Samson reappeared in the corner of the room. Yves sucked in a shocked breath of air before he could hide his emotions. Before he could show no fear. The Dark Shadow slipped into the space between Yves’ Nosferatin and her mate.

Reaching down, Samson gripped something we couldn’t see and then dragged it toward my Light shield.

He met my eyes. I lowered the shield. He stepped over the threshold. The shield went up. It happened in a split fraction of a second. The Nosferatin hadn’t even been able to spin.

“Éliane,” Yves whispered. “You have grown stronger.”

“Damn right,” I muttered and peered down at a rematerialised spymaster.

The Dark vampire met my eyes. Then he let his gaze trace down my neck, over my pulse. Hakan snarled. But he was outside my Light shield now. He and the Dark Shadow prowled. Samson just cuffed Alain over the back of the head.

“Never thought it’d come to this, did we, spymaster?” I whispered.

“I will suck you dry,” he promised.

I shook my head and turned to Zahra. “What do you think?”

“His ties to his master are strong. It may save him.”

“But Luc’s aren’t?”

“They have been severed.” What?

“That can’t be right. He is his father’s son. As I am Papa’s daughter. Check again.”

Zahra looked up at me. “I see your threads. They are still there but loosely held. Your sire has not cut them, but he no longer holds them tightly. He has let you go, Kafinefendi, even as he waits for you to call him back.”

I shook my head again, desperation making my dreads fly. I stared at Luc. He stared at Zahra.

“And my brother?”

“There are no threads,” she said.

“Papa wouldn’t do that. He’d never let Luc go like that. He’d never give up on him.”

“Touch his Sigillum,” she urged.

I knew in my heart that she was right. Luc’s Sigillum was black as the night. It had lost all colour. If he pressed a finger to the centre of my parent’s mark now, I would not feel it. Neither would my father.

Perhaps Luc’s Dark would have pulled Papa down. Perhaps the Champion was saving himself, saving Mama. Saving the Iunctio and all vampyre. But I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have fought harder for his son.

I curled my hands into fists and let out a furious snarl.

“Doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “Can you do this? Will you?” Or would I have to resort to drastic measures? Measures she would never forgive me for. Measures Hakan would find hard to accept as well.

And measures that were no better than what the Kral had done to his niece five hundred years ago.

“Please,” I whispered, resorting to begging. “He is worth it.”

She smiled. Smoke swirled in her eyes. Mhachkay magic, black and powerful, swelled.

“I have no doubt,” she said and struck out.

13

Five Hundred Years In The Making

Sound became distorted, and the world appeared as though viewed through a veil of smoke. Something black and powerful surged around us, inside my Light shield. A distant whining sound much like a dog who has been frightened reached me. I thought perhaps it was Ediz, but I didn’t take my eyes off my brother. I did take an instinctive step back, however, even as my mother’s words of warning shouted out inside my head. Showing no fear now would not save me, but taking a step back from all that black witchcraft might just give me time to think of an out.

Samson’s hand landed on my shoulder and then Mama’s vampire stepped in front of me, trying to block the foul-smelling sorcery from reaching his mistress’ daughter. If Zahra wished it, though, she could have struck the vampire down.

Her head was thrown back; her arms were spread wide. Luc looked up at her with awe in his eyes; his face at that moment seemed so pure and divine. My brother had never looked so handsome.

And so enraptured with a woman.

I fisted my hands, my stakes heavy on my hips. My Svante’s weight a welcome sensation down my spine.

Alain hissed. His eyes had bled pure red. There was no cyan to be seen, but I sensed his Sanguis Vitam. It swelled. My father’s swelled along with it.

Wherever Papa was now, he knew his spymaster was in trouble.

I hadn’t breathed in long seconds. I tried to suck in a breath of air now but only inhaled smoke. My eyes itched. My skin felt clammy. Samson’s position between the Black Witch and me was doing nothing. I stepped around him.

Zahra murmured words in Turkish too low for me to hear. I thought I could hear voices answering, however. Their presence made my body chill.

Luc cried out and then collapsed to the floor. He started convulsing, froth appearing at his mouth. I ran to his side; Samson stepped closer, a sword in his hands, Darkness consuming his eyes.

Dark destroys. Light creates. But Samson Beauregard’s connection to my mother saved the vampire; gave him reason to fight the Dark, to protect her offspring when otherwise Darkness would have turned its back and laughed out loud.

I disregarded the vampire behind me and concentrated on Luc.

His body shook with tremors; his head banged back against the floorboards; something stirred within his chest; I felt it. I flicked my eyes to Zahra. She was sweating, shaking, pale when she should have had a natural tan. Her hands were fisted, even as she kept her arms wide. Her feet were spaced shoulder-width apart, but they trembled. I thought perhaps she would collapse.

If the Black Witch collapsed, this would be over.

I stood up and prowled toward her. If she knew how close I was, she didn’t show it. Her words came faster and faster. I caught one or two of them. I’d have preferred not to have deciphered them at all.

What the Black Witch asked the spirits for would haunt my dreams forever.

It said a lot about the love I had for my brother that I didn’t stop her. That I didn’t pull my stake and stab her through her hearts. I would take Luc in any form I could get him.

Even if he ended up as black as night. As black as her.

Dark swelled. There was no Light to counter it. Even when I reached for mine, it slipped from my grasp.

My heart sped up. I licked my lips. Zahra stumbled. A gash had appeared in her hand; her palm bled. Red like any vampire.

I glanced at my brother. He had a matching wound. I hadn’t even seen Zahra do it.

I stepped up to the witch and wrapped my arms around her torso, holding her up when it looked like she would fall over. I locked my legs, trying futilely to reach for my Light. Dark oozed out of my brother. It oozed out of Alain as well. Thick and oily, it rolled across the floor, combining. Two pools becoming a bigger one, getting closer and closer to Zahra and me.

I wasn’t sure what would happen if the Dark reached us, but because Zahra’s voice took on a note of desperation, I thought perhaps it wouldn’t be good.

My desperate gaze met Samson’s eyes.

He was still full of Darkness. Darkness of his own making. If we got out of this, if we all survived to see another day, Samson Beauregard would be Darker than any other vampire.

I looked over my shoulder; tried to decipher shapes outside of the shield that somehow still stood all around us. Smoke blocked my vision, but I knew Yves and his Nosferatin were right outside.

My eyes came back to Samson. Panic started to swell inside. He held my gaze; that impassive vampire mask on his face. And then he stepped right into the puddle of Dark and closed his eyes.

It rolled up his legs, over his knees, and wrapped around his torso. Then it slowly crept up his chest and slunk ever higher.

I could hear someone pounding against my Light shield. I could hear the snarl of the Dark Shadow and Georgia’s screams of protest.

I watched as Samson sucked all that Dark into him and then lifted his head and stared at me with black eyes.

Oh, Goddess, I thought. Was it right to accept one life for another? Was Luc’s Light worth more than Samson’s? What would my friend do when the Nosferatin staked him? What would Georgia become then?

What would my mother? Mama would never become Dark, but something inside her would break. Samson was the first vampire to join her line. She didn’t know half of what he could do, but she loved him like a brother.

I looked at Luc; my brother. The Dark had almost entirely gone, replaced with something else. I looked at Alain. He matched him. No longer Dark, but no longer Light. Luc’s Sigillum swirled. Blacks and greys; no colour. Smoke twisted in both of their eyes.

What was she making them? Was it better or worse than the Dark? Would Yves accept it?

Zahra’s full weight rested now in my arms and yet she kept chanting, her voice nothing more than a rasp. Her leathers were stained in sweat. Her hair clung to her pasty skin. Her body trembled. I held her tight; I would not let her fall.

I would pay whatever price there was to pay to save my brother.

Finally, the Black Witch stopped talking. The smoke around us stilled. There was no sound. Just my heartbeat. And Luc’s. I could see his newly developed fangs. I could see the red glint that washed through the smoke in his eyes. But I could still hear his heart.

It gave me hope.

Zahra tried to shake herself, but all she managed to do was twist out of my grasp. Her legs buckled. Her body crumbled. She landed in a heap on the floor.

Samson growled.

The smoke was slowly dissipating, but I could feel the threat as it approached. I pulled a stake and spun to face it. A flash of red, a wash of blond hair, and then fangs scraped down my neck and were gone.

I couldn’t risk lowering the Light shield. I also had no explanation for how it still stood, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Light shield kept Yves and his hunters out. It also kept out Georgia who was frothing at the mouth and still hammering against its sides.

“Samson,” I snapped, putting as much of my mother as I could muster into my voice. “Stand down.”

He laughed. It was eerie. Guilt almost made me miss his next attack. Experience and training had me rolling out of his grasp.

My heartbeat escalated. Hakan roared. Georgia kept throwing herself against the shield. I had no idea what Yves or Ediz were doing, but I did not want to add them into this mess.

“Samson!” I shouted. “Remember your place, vampyre!”

“Your heartbeat betrays you,” he purred.

Smoke still swirled around us. But it was getting thinner. I kept my back to Luc and Zahra, not wanting the Dark vampire before me to turn his attention to them. Alain was on his own. And for that I was sorry. Still, if I kept Samson’s focus on me, Papa’s spymaster might survive the encounter.

“Don’t make me stake you, vampyre,” I growled.

“Come closer and try,” he taunted.

He flashed in. I couldn’t spin away. If I spun, I’d expose Zahra and Luc. I had to protect them. I raised my stake, but Samson was fast. And without being able to shift my position, my defence was weak at best. Fangs punctured my arm. My Sigillum swirled. Sage, mint green, lime. Unease, fear, worry.

Samson laughed.

When I next glanced down at my arm, magenta and violet clashed with the greens making for an unpleasant sight. I let my anger and outrage grow, stretching my lips into a blunt-toothed smile.

“Try that again, vampyre,” I said. “I dare you.”

He attacked. I sliced his side with the stake, silver in the wound had him howling.

His vampire-within reared inside, the red eyes of the huge black dog met mine. He growled.

“Nice doggy,” I said.

He charged. Claws raked, silver smarted, fangs pierced skin and blood rained down.

I didn’t want to have to do it. I didn’t want to be the one who put the rabid animal down. I didn’t want the guilt and heavy weight and regret of it. But this was my choice. This had been my task. My father had trusted I could save Luc. My mother had wished for it with all of her broken heart.

This was on me and if I had to wear the shame of bringing the final death to my friend’s mate for the rest of my very long life, then I would.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. No one heard me. And even if they did, it was too little; not enough.

I spun. The thought of leaving Luc and Zahra exposed made my skin prickle. But in order to end this humanely, I needed all of my Nosferatin talent. Samson was a level one Sanguis Vitam vampire. He was fast and strong and old now. Not old-old like my father or Hakan. But old enough to put up a decent fight.

We crashed together. My Light swelled. I didn’t have time to be grateful I had it back because his Sanguis Vitam raged all around us. The Dark made him stronger still. But Light is more powerful than the Dark. It didn’t always seem that way, but it was. I just had to believe in it. Trust in it. Trust in Nut, as well.

Sparks flew. I felt the sting of his bite. He felt the blast of my Light. Neither stopped us.

And then when we flew apart, our feet skidding across the floorboards, arms pinwheeling for balance, snarls rending the air apart, blood dripping from multiple wounds, an explosion of Light blinded my eyes.

It must have blinded Samson’s as well because the vampire didn’t use my distraction to his advantage. By the time I blinked the spots away from my vision, my mother stood before me. Wreathed in Light.

The Prophesied shone like a beacon; shadows disappeared. The night became day and the day became our night.

She looked corporeal to me. But I knew to vampires she would be nothing but a hazy outline at best and invisible at worst. My mother was their scariest nightmare when she Dream Walked.

“Ellie,” she said. She touched my cheek, such love in that simple connection. “You have joined.”

“Entwined, Mama,” I corrected her. She cocked her head.

“We have much to talk about then,” she finally said. I nodded.

She turned around and looked down at Luc. So many emotions washed across her features then; chasing each other, one by one, out of sight. Until all that was left was a Nosferatin. Powerful, impassive, full of Light.

Luc was unconscious, but my mother took the time to kneel by his side. She brushed his dark hair off his handsome face, and then leaned down and kissed his forehead. For a moment, I thought she might cry. But her gaze swept over his body to the woman who lay collapsed at his side. Zahra didn’t stir, and my mother took the time to see her; I could feel her Sanguis Vitam Cupitor powers ignite. She wouldn’t find any Dark in either of them. But what would her Prophesied powers show her of the blackness that had consumed their lives?

One last stroke of her hand over Luc’s face and then she stood and faced Samson.

He’d been immobile from the moment she’d arrived, and I realised she’d done that; pinned him down somehow. Maybe the Lux Lucis Tribuo connection they shared had allowed it, but I’d never seen her do that before. Her relationship with her line was the not the same as my father’s with his. She couldn’t command them. She couldn’t telepathically reach them. But right then she did something to keep the Dark vampire contained and quiet.

“Oh, Samson,” she murmured.

Georgia crashed into my Light shield, and my mother flicked tear-filled eyes to the crazed vampire.

She sighed.

“Did you know?” I asked.

“That he was capable of such Darkness?” she murmured. I nodded my head, but she wouldn’t have seen it; all her attention was on her vampire. “Yes,” she whispered. “I knew. But he did not wish for me to know, so I kept quiet.”

“Can you save him?”

“He is my vampyre. I shall die trying.”

“Mama,” I said, panicked. If she died, Papa would die. I couldn’t handle losing them both when we’d only just got Lucien back.

“I’m being dramatic,” she said wryly. “I thought the moment warranted it.” She turned to look at me. “When did you lose your sense of humour, El?”

I scowled at her. “None of this is funny!” I snapped.

She smiled, and then the smile fell, and I saw something I did not like in my mother’s eyes.

“What is it?”

“Your father,” she said, cocking her head. “He wants me back. Something’s not right.”

“What?”

She shook her head and lifted her hand to cup Samson’s cheek. “Please forgive me,” she murmured and then blasted him with her Light.

Samson let out a groan that the Dark Shadow did not like. I thought perhaps Samson did like it, at least a little bit. He collapsed to his knees before my mother and shuddered.

I turned away. I’d seen what my mother’s Light did to vampires before. I’d long ago learned it was best to pretend it wasn’t happening. Heat washed my cheeks and my eyes connected with Hakan’s outside the shield of Light.

A sinful promise was written there, laced with silver and dripping in ice. Hakan could burn so hot and cold, both of which sent shivers of delight through my body in anticipation. He smiled.

The Dark Shadow hissed. Mama stepped back from her vampire and turned to Georgia.

“You know I had no choice,” she said.

The Dark Shadow prowled outside the shield. She flashed fang, red glinted in her eyes, along with a promise of retribution.

“Lower the shield, El,” she said.

“Are you mad?”

“Do it.”

I lowered the shield, keeping ahold of my Light in case I had to blast Georgia with it.

The Dark Shadow took one step toward my mother and growled. The sound reverberated around the room we were in, rattling the glass in the windows behind the closed shutters.

Mama leaned forward and growled right back at her. Somehow, despite not being as powerful or loud, my mother’s growl outdid Georgia’s.

They stared at each other and then the Dark Shadow broke eye contact and slunk around us both to reach her mate. Mama watched them for a moment and then lifted her gaze to my vampire.

He bowed low, hand fisted over his chest.

“Prophesied,” my Savaşçı said; his voice level, his emotions locked down and out of sight.

“Shouldn’t it be ‘Mother’ now?” Mama asked.

Hakan looked startled. He quickly corrected himself.

“Just kidding,” Mama said and smirked.

“Lucinda,” Yves said, announcing himself.

“Hello, Yves. Wish I could stay for a catch-up, but duty calls. Or rather, a very irate dragon does.”

The Nosferatin nodded his head.

“I trust you have no recourse here?” she enquired.

“I am satisfied if not a little perplexed.”

“Mysteries are good for the soul,” my mother offered.

The Parisian Nosferatin laughed.

“Say hello to your house for me,” Mama added.

“I will.”

She turned toward me and reached for both of my hands. She held them between us, thumbs brushing over my knuckles.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered. “Come home.”

“My home is in Istanbul now.”

“Adrianople,” Hakan corrected.

OK, then. Adrianople.

Mama spared him a brief glance but returned her attention to me. I felt like I was basking in sunlight.

“Your father needs you.”

“Hasn’t he asked enough of me by now?” I automatically growled in reply.

When would I learn?

Mama smiled. It was nostalgic and familiar all at once.

“I feel walls rattling,” she said. “Dust and mortar falls all around. The dragon paces and his garden burns. Something is happening in Auckland.”

“Is it Papa? Is he hurt?”

“He is furious.” She leaned in and placed her lips to my ear. “And deeply satisfied.”

I pulled back and scowled at her. What would make my father furious and satisfied at the same time?

Mama held my gaze.

“This has been five hundred years in the making,” she murmured.

I sucked in a breath of air and then my mother was gone. My hands were empty. The room remained silent.

Five hundred years in the making.

The Mhachkay were storming the Iunctio.

“I have to go back,” I said, and Hakan roared his disquiet.

14

The Boogeyman Under His Bed

Zahra woke up before either Luc or Alain did. Yves had left some time ago, and I’d been pacing for the past hour. Whatever was happening in Auckland, I had to hope the combined power of the Iunctio was holding it off.

I wouldn’t leave my brother, and Hakan wouldn’t leave his cousin.

If we had to fight the Kral and what was left of the Mhachkay, we’d need both of them to back us.

But looking at Luc right now, I wasn’t sure that was a given. How would he act when he woke up? Who would he be with all that black inside him?

Zahra groaned and lifted a shaking hand to her forehead. Hakan strode across the room and crouched down beside her.

“Canım,” he said softly. “You did it.”

The witch blinked open blurry looking eyes and then glanced down at my brother lying out on cushions beside her. There hadn’t been much in the house, but Georgia and Samson had gone foraging outside. I thought perhaps they’d needed a moment alone to regroup.

I’d thought perhaps they’d not return. But they came back with blankets and cushions for our injured, and food for me and my brother.

I hadn’t been able to stomach it, and Luc was still out cold on the dusty floor.

Zahra finally waking was promising, however. I silently urged Luc to shake off whatever ailed him and come back to the land of the living.

So close. We were so close. Somehow I wouldn’t believe we’d succeeded until I heard my brother’s voice, saw it on his face, in his eyes.

“Argh,” Zahra groaned. “My head.”

“Do you need blood?” Hakan asked.

She said nothing. Her eyes were all for Lucien.

“He is mine,” she said finally.

“Yes. You have entwined his blood,” Hakan agreed. “But not the vampire’s.”

Zahra looked across the space between them and Alain.

“He is his kindred,” she said, and I finally stopped pacing behind them.

“What?” I snapped.

“They are still joined,” she said.

“But Luc’s entwined with you, as well?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“How’s that even possible?”

“I do not know,” she admitted. “I was hoping the entwining would break the kindred joining.” She cocked her head. “But somehow I have made it into something else.”

“What else?” I demanded.

Hakan pushed smoothly to his feet and moved to my side. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at me in warning. But the heat of him calmed me enough to suck in a breath of air, and for my mind to register, I’d placed my hands on my stakes and was about to draw them.

If I staked Zahra would Luc die? Would Alain?

“This is unexpected,” the Black Witch said. “I have no explanation.”

Great. We’d expected them to change but to this? I rubbed two hands over my face trying to think.

“Neither is Dark,” I offered.

“I sense the Black,” Zahra murmured. The way she said ‘Black’ made it sound like a sentient being deserving a capital letter in its title. “Lucien’s is familiar. The vampire’s is not.”

She looked up at me and shook her head. “I cannot explain it correctly, Kafinefendi,” she said. “But your brother is safe for now.”

The ‘for now’ didn’t soothe me. But I realised there was nothing I could do about it. Until we knew more, I had nothing to battle. Luc was safe. His Dark was gone. I couldn’t sense any Light. But his Dark was gone. That was something.

Lucien made a sound, then, letting out a sigh. Slowly he opened his eyes and stared at nothing. Then he jerked upright, coming to a fighting stance in a heartbeat, his eyes flaring black and then settling into a smokey colour. It suited him, even if I missed the hazel.

“Hey,” I said. I almost snorted. ‘Hey’ seemed so trivial. So pathetic.

“Hey, El,” he said in reply and smiled.

I blinked back tears and felt myself sinking to the floor. Hakan reached out and guided my body down, so I wouldn’t end up splattered against the floorboards.

Luc’s smile fell. His eyes landed on Alain.

He blinked. Blinked again. And then said, “I feel something. It doesn’t feel right.”

“It is the kindred joining,” Zahra said from beside him.

Luc suddenly scrambled away from her. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped.

There was no hero worship there. Just good old Nosferatin wariness. I was proud.

“Zahra Bahar,” Zahra said.

“Lucien Durand,” my brother replied because there was never a time like the present to remember your manners.

I snorted.

“What?” Luc demanded.

“You’re still you,” I said.

“Who else would I be?” he asked.

I shook my head. I couldn’t tell him. There’d be time, or not, to explain what had happened. What we’d fought. How much we’d lost. The sacrifices I’d been prepared to make on his behalf.

“Hey, kid,” Georgia suddenly said.

“Shit,” Luc muttered. “Not you too, Nothus.”

“You think I’d miss out on all this fun?” she enquired.

“I think I’m missing out on something here,” Luc mumbled.

His eyes landed on Hakan. A staring match ensued.

I tapped Hakan on the arm. He ignored me.

“Ah, guys,” I said.

Neither replied. Smoke filled Luc’s eyes. Silver laced Hakan’s. Sanguis Vitam swelled. I expected Light to follow, but only Blackness engulfed my brother.

Luc’s fangs slipped out and down. He frowned. Then carefully licked them.

“Fuck,” he said.

“It’ll be OK,” I offered.

“Fuck!” he said again with much more gusto.

No one had anything decent to offer in reply. ‘Fuck’ seemed like a good epithet.

“Please don’t tell me I drink blood now,” Luc muttered.

“Are you thirsty?” I asked.

Something stirred in his eyes, and then he was looking at Zahra. The Black Witch scowled.

“No,” she said.

“Why not?” my brother asked with his signature melt-the-ladies-knickers-off smile. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He winked at her.

She fondled the hilt of her sword; it looked suggestive. Hakan snorted. Had he heard that thought?

I smiled. Luc glanced back at me.

“OK, sis,” he said. “What the fuck? Start talking.”

“Zahra is Mhachkay,” I explained. “So is Hakan.”

“Mhachkay? I don’t know any Mhachkay.”

I sighed; rubbed my face and then got myself comfortable on an overstuffed cushion. We didn’t have time for this, but arriving in Auckland to face off against the Kral without adequately preparing my brother seemed unwise. I stared across the room at Alain. He still slept the blissful sleep of the unconscious, but he needed to hear this, too.

I blasted him with my Light.

He yelped.

Fangs down, eyes bled to cyan and turquoise, he snapped his teeth at me and said, “That was uncalled for, Bébé.”

Son of a…

I blasted him again and made sure it freaking hurt.

He hissed, puffed up his chest, Sanguis Vitam started to rise.

Hakan stepped between us and growled; the sound bounced off the walls and settled somewhere up in the rafters.

“Be very careful how you address my wife,” he told the spymaster.

“Your wife?” Alain exclaimed and then remembered himself. A blank mask fell into place.

“Hakan Bahar,” I said waving at my vampire. “My Entwined.”

“This just gets better and better,” Luc offered and smirked.

“Zahra Bahar,” I told him, waving at the Black Witch. “Your Entwined.”

“What?” my brother said.

“Lucien is my kindred,” Alain said on a low, threatening growl.

“In a manner of speaking,” I muttered.

I sensed the moment Alain decided this was all a threat; to him, to his kindred Nosferatin. To their lives.

I sent out my Light and wrapped him up in it. Before he even had a chance to twitch a finger, I had him Dream Walking outside of his body.

His corporeal form collapsed to the floor. The Nosferatu all looked at the unconscious vampire and then looked back at me, alarmed. Georgia and Luc just sighed.

“Hubba-hubba,” said the Dark Shadow as she took in Alain Dupont in all his ghostly naked glory. “He works out.”

“El!” Luc chastised. “You know how much he hates that.”

“He was about to do a runner,” I told him. “And take you with him,” I added. “I have not chased you halfway across Faerie, halfway around the goddess-damned world, and halfway to hell and back to have that sanctimonious prick steal you out from under me.”

Luc stared at me for a long time and then pushed up and walked toward me. Kneeling down in front of me, he said, “It’s OK, sis. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. At least, not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.” He offered a goofy grin to soften his words. “Dupont will watch himself.” He looked toward where the vampire snapped and snarled in ghostly silence. “Won’t you, old chap?” Luc said. “You’ll be a good little spymaster.”

“Since when do you tease your idol?” I asked.

“Since he was destined to become your kindred.”

That shocked me. Luc had always worshipped the ground Alain walked on. Had he been jealous? Jealousy wasn’t something Lucien did. His heart was built big. Big enough to handle sharing his precious golden god of a vampire with his twin sister.

“I was never going to join with him, Luc,” I said.

“Not for want of Papa trying.”

“Papa had a plan,” I said. “He just didn’t want Alain to know it.”

Luc arched his brow. “Or us,” he said.

“Yeah, that too. But that’s just Papa. Secrets and machinations are his forte.”

Luc sighed. “He had a plan, huh?”

“The Mhachkay,” I said.

He looked at Zahra and Hakan.

“And who are the Mhachkay exactly, El?”

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath of air and then said, “The vampires who killed Neagoe Basarab.”

“Ah, shit,” my brother muttered. “You don’t say? No wonder Papa got his undies in a bunch.”

“They’ve been imprisoned for five hundred years,” I said.

Luc looked back at me and said nothing.

“They broke out when we came into our powers.”

Still nothing.

“They’ve entwined Enchanted before. Joining doesn’t save us. Only entwining does.”

He looked back at Zahra. “She saved my life?” He talked as if she couldn’t hear him, but the Black Witch was watching and listening to his every word.

“Yes. As Hakan saved mine.”

“Then why do I feel like Alain is my kindred?”

“Because you joined with him in Álfheimr.”

It was clear he’d not retained any memories of the time he’d passed as Dark. Perhaps that was for the best. But it left gaps in his knowledge. And knowledge was power.

“This is fucked up,” he muttered.

There was nothing I could say to that.

“The Mhachkay have a King,” I said. “A Kral.”

“Kral means King; got it,” he said.

I’d forgotten he wouldn’t understand Turkish until he had sex with his Entwined partner. I made sure not to look at the witch when I thought that even if I did feel my cheeks pink.

“Their Kral was promised the first Enchanted to be born after their confinement,” I continued.

He spun back around to stare at me.

“If Papa and Uncle Gregor and the Ambrosia hadn’t hidden our powers upon birth,” I continued, “they would have woken much sooner. Our twenty-fifth birthday fucked that all up.”

“Nosferatin maturity,” he said.

I nodded. “The Kral still believes he’s entitled to the firstborn.”

“That’s me.”

I nodded again, feeling sick to my stomach.

“Zahra entwined your blood with hers, but unlike a kindred joining, another Mhachkay could break that connection and steal you for themselves.”

“What do they get out of entwining?” he asked.

Luc had always been quick to ask the right questions. It was all that time he’d spent hanging around Alain, I was sure. Political savvy was in Lucien’s blood; Alain had just honed it into a finely tuned weapon he could use. And still, Lucien had worshipped the vampire.

I looked up at Hakan. I’d never thought to ask. What did the Mhachkay get out of this? How had I not thought to ask?

Kindred Nosferatu double their powers upon joining. Kindred Nosferatin got to live long lives.

I knew what we got out of entwining. Again long lives, almost indestructible lives according to Hakan; as long as he lived, I’d live. End of story.

But what did the Mhachkay get?

Hakan stared back at me, ice-blue mixing with silver and becoming something divine.

And then he opened himself up to me, and I saw heaven. I saw wonderment and calmness, focus and balance. I saw power and peace, loyalty and safety. I saw fire and ice, cold and heat. Comfort and challenge. I saw impossibilities become reality. Fantasy made real. I saw the world stretched out before him and the anticipation and excitement it would bring.

I saw life.

The Mhachkay are like any other vampyre; they get old and can become tired. Day in and day out, living eternally through each bleak night took its toll on a vampyre. If they didn’t find a mate to balance them, a cause to light a fire inside, they stagnated; they slowed down until they lived an existence that some would find abhorrent.

Life, but not as we know it.

A Mhachkay entwined with an Enchanted, however, never had to fear such an ignoble death. Such an inglorious life.

They never had to fear growing tired and old and stagnant. We breathed a wealth of emotions and desires back into their world. We grounded them. We challenged them. In essence, we gave them a different type of eternal life.

“Wow,” I said.

Hakan smiled and inclined his head.

“Kan büyülü,” he said. And for the first time, it sounded like a prayer.

“Kan büyülü,” Zahra repeated, her eyes all for my brother. Her Entwined.

He stared at her and swallowed thickly.

“We give them a life worth living,” I whispered.

“I see that,” my brother whispered in reply.

No one said anything for a moment, and then Zahra stepped forward.

“My Kafinefendi has spoken the truth, Dolaşık,” she said. Entwined. “But there is more.”

Luc looked at the Black Witch and nodded.

“I can’t feel my Light,” he said. His voice had been strong and steady.

I knew better. The realisation he couldn’t touch his Nosferatin Light had rocked him to his core.

I saw something flicker across Zahra’s face. There one second gone the next. Something full of grief and guilt. She felt responsible for that lack of Light. She was working hard not to show it.

“I do not know where it has gone or whether it will one day return,” she admitted. “I am not like my brethren.”

“No,” Luc murmured, looking at Hakan again. He turned back to the Black Witch. “You’re more powerful,” he said.

Hakan crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

My Savaşçı did not like Luc’s assessment.

Zahra smiled. “My power is different from his, yes. But in some ways, he is more powerful.”

“I don’t see it,” Luc offered, dismissing Hakan in one simple breath. “Your power is potent.”

Zahra’s lips twitched. “But in this case, it has done something I do not understand. You are my Entwined. The vampire is not.”

Luc looked at Alain floating in the air.

“You’re stronger, El,” he said quietly. “You don’t even look tired.”

I realised I wasn’t; holding a vampire in a forced Dream Walk and I didn’t feel weakened like I had done in the past. I felt…quite fine.

I huffed out a surprised breath.

“I don’t see his Light,” Luc eventually said.

“Yes,” Zahra agreed. “And I have no explanation.”

Great. A mystery. What had my mother said to Yves? Mysteries are good for the soul? I could do without this one. But right now, we didn’t have time to figure it all out.

The Iunctio waited. Auckland waited. Papa and Mama and our family waited.

As did the Kral.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Stunned,” Luc admitted. “But I’m here. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Yeah,” I offered with a grin and then let the smile fall.

“What else?” he demanded.

“The Kral won’t come to Paris,” I said. “He hates the place. The Iunctio handed down their sentence from here. So, he’s gone to Auckland instead. To face them. To challenge them. To get his revenge.”

“To lure us - me - to him,” Luc added.

“Yeah.”

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to go,” I started.

“Like hell, I don’t! Auckland’s my home, Ellie. The Plaza, the people, the Iunctio.” He shook his head. “No two-bit power-hungry monarch is going to attack my home and family and get away with it.” He looked up at Hakan. “But what about your vampire? What about you?” he added, looking directly at Zahra.

“He is not my King,” Zahra snarled.

I saw the pain there. The memories. The horror.

Lucien saw it too.

He was on his feet, his fangs down, his eyes smokey-red in a heartbeat. “I will kill him,” he growled.

My brother; the lover, the poet, the spy-in-training.

My heart broke into a million tiny pieces and then slowly started to rebuild itself.

This was our life now. Our future. And I would not abandon him.

“Steady on, bro,” I said, forcing a lightness into my tone I didn't feel. Hakan’s hand landed on my shoulder in support. He squeezed it softly. “You’re the backup,” I told my twin.

“Backup? El!”

I held up a hand and let my Light build, let him see it. Let it fill the room and then shine on all of Paris.

“Goddess,” he murmured in awe.

“Your little witch is not the most powerful one here,” I said, drawing on all the Nosferatin in the city. Drawing on the City of Light itself. Stealing their powers.

“Shit,” he said. “What the fuck have we become?”

I smiled. It was in no way pleasant.

“The Kral’s worst nightmare,” I said.

My brother smirked. “The boogeyman under his bed,” he offered with a devilish chuckle.

I could almost believe it, almost think it real. Luc was still Luc.

Not some mysterious new creature born from Black Magic.

15

Now The Crowd Went Wild

We arrived in Auckland just at sunset. The shadows of the Council building across the street from The Plaza provided enough darkness for those who could not stand the sun’s light. I wondered if that number now included Luc. Hakan had said Zahra couldn’t walk in daylight, so I assumed Luc would suffer the same consequences.

Would Alain?

I looked at Papa’s spymaster now. He’d been silent after his unwelcome sojourn into the Dream Walking realm. His fangs hadn’t retracted yet, but thankfully his eyes had settled down to their usual mesmerising blue; nothing supernatural about them.

Ediz kept a close eye on him. As did Goran. I thought perhaps the Dökkálfa believed Alain to be the most unstable in our group. I didn’t think Dupont was unstable. I thought he was in shock. For an old vampyre like him to be showing such emotion, things had rattled him.

It would have made me smile any other day. Hell, it would have given me fodder to press all his buttons and then some. Instead, I turned my attention back to my father’s hotel and watched.

“There is no movement,” Georgia said quietly. “Not even a bellhop.”

“I sense Ljósálfar,” Goran offered.

The parasite.

“I sense the Dark,” I murmured.

“I don’t,” my brother said.

I flicked him a glance and noted the disconcerted look he wore. Luc was good at hiding his fear; hiding his emotions. He’d been taught by the best and then moulded into something else by Papa’s spymaster. He was reeling, much like Alain was. Both of them operating sub-par.

Ordinarily, I’d give them a talking to. Snap them out of it. Right then, I didn’t have the heart.

This was no way to face off against a powerful opponent, but we did have one thing on our side. We knew the terrain. This was our home. Our city. Ours.

I watched the shadows as they darkened further, but they revealed nothing. The Plaza stood silent and still, a monolith to vampires.

“Norms are approaching,” Georgia said on a hiss.

“Carrying pitchforks?” my brother asked, a little of his old irreverence shining through at last.

“And torches,” Samson offered, encouraging my twin because he could see what I saw which meant everyone could.

I needed to keep Luc safe, but keeping him out of this fight would be a tall ask.

Papa, I said silently, sending my thoughts into the ether. Where are you?

There was no answer.

I shifted my weight and watched as a group of Norms marched up Mayoral Drive toward The Plaza.

“Not pitchforks or torches,” Georgia said in a drawl, “but crowbars and sledgehammers. Subtle.”

“Do we let them reach the hotel?” someone asked.

“No,” I said as Alain and Luc said, “Yes,” together.

“Why would you let them into the hotel?” I demanded.

“I cannot raise my master,” Alain explained. “The connection is silent. If it is intentional, then Michel will have something in store for those who enter his domain. If it isn’t…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. If the Norms made it into the hotel’s lobby unhindered, then something was very wrong with my father. And with the Iunctio itself.

“No one can take on the Iunctio and win,” I murmured. I thought perhaps the words were more for me than anyone else. I turned to Hakan. “Can you sense the Mhachkay or Erbörü?”

“No. Not nearby,” he said. “But they could still be in the city, just not here.”

“Or my cousins have provided a shield of Light,” Goran offered.

“Wouldn’t I sense that?” I asked.

He shrugged; a very human affectation. One Aliath had mastered, but the Hyrða had not demonstrated until now. I thought perhaps we were a bad influence on the fairies. Rather like the parasite.

“The parasite might mask it,” I said in sudden understanding.

“They are corrupted,” Goran agreed. “They are no longer children of Álfheimr.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I didn’t have time to ask; the Norms reached the curved driveway of The Plaza. I could hear them shouting at each other; getting up the nerve to storm the vampire stronghold. Whatever had made them come here today, they weren’t convinced about it. Had the Kral sent men to stir up unrest in the masses? Was this a distraction?

I held my breath as the most vocal of the group surged forward and slammed his sledgehammer into the plate glass window in the foyer. Glass shattered. The crowd cheered. Nothing jumped out and ate them.

My father’s wards were down.

“That’s it,” I said. I turned to my brother. “Take Ediz and Zahra and go to Newmarket.”

“Guts & Glory?” Luc asked.

I nodded. “Tell Frank he owes Papa.”

“I think he paid back that debt a long time ago, sis,” Luc pointed out.

“Then smoke him. Show him what you are.”

“I don’t even know what I am and I sure as hell am not gonna trade that knowledge with a ghoul.”

Samson stepped forward. “I’ll go with you. My methods do not require a trade.”

“Samson,” Georgia said in a growl.

“Babe,” he murmured, his eyes flashing chocolate and taupe. “I’m a vampire. I don’t need to alter his reality. I just need to compel him.”

Vampires could control ghouls. It was forbidden in Auckland City, so what Samson wanted to do went against Iunctio rules. It would never be forgiven.

“Damn it,” Luc muttered. “OK. OK. I’ll trade with him.” He pointed a finger at me and said, “But if this comes back and bites me on the arse, I’m coming for you, sis.”

“I’m counting on it,” I told him. “Just bring a horde of ghouls with you.”

He sighed. And then looked at Zahra. “Fancy a beer?” he asked.

She scowled at him.

“They serve top shelf too, but the beers are better.”

“What?” the witch asked, completely clueless.

“It can be our first date,” Luc offered. “Nothing fancy. But a good place to start. Atmosphere, you know?”

I snorted. “If you like your dates to be surrounded by flesh-eating monsters. Jeez, Luc, you really know how to show a girl a good time.”

He flashed a smile at me, fangs peeking out beneath his lips.

“Oh, I think she can handle it,” he murmured. “Have you seen the size of her sword?”

“I think you want her to check out the size of yours,” I muttered.

He winked at me and my heart flipped. “Go,” I mouthed at him.

Sending him off on a mission was killing me. Having him walk into that hotel at my side would have made me crumble.

I needed Luc safe. This was as safe as I could get for now.

Luc saluted and started heading off down the street whistling. Ediz fell in at his side.

“Ah,” Zahra said. “He does know I can just take us there, doesn’t he?”

“I think he wants you watching his butt as he swaggers,” Georgia offered.

Samson snickered and started following behind Lucien. I would thank Mama’s vampire later. I looked at Georgia. She stayed at my side. Theirs was a trusting relationship. She trusted Samson to take care of himself. He trusted her to get into trouble.

Besides, I had something else planned for Gigi.

Zahra sighed and with one last look shared with Hakan, raced after the men she would have to ferry to Newmarket.

I turned to Georgia.

“Sensations,” I said. The vampire owned nightclub was a well known supernatural haunt in the city. It had been around for decades, receiving overhauls throughout the years which only seemed to make it better and better.

Those who loved vampires, and wanted to get a peek at the Master of the City - the third member of Georgia’s triumvirate - went to Sensations for an evening on the wild side.

“On it,” she said and flashed away.

Alain was watching the spot on the street where Luc had last been. I knew he wanted to go with his kindred, but his master’s wellbeing held him rigid. What a dichotomy to live. Tied to your sire and yet joined to your kindred.

It was a wonder Alain Dupont hadn’t started his own line yet. I think my father would have let him. Unless he knew about Alain’s hidden increase in powers. Then my father would have wanted to keep him close.

I suddenly had a better understanding of the spymaster.

“Where are your men?” I asked him.

He turned to look at me, but for a brief moment, there wasn’t recognition evident in his eyes. Then he shook his head.

I reached out and touched the shirt on his arm.

“It’ll get easier,” I said.

“You do not know that,” he murmured and then stepped away from me.

Alain hadn’t stepped away from me for years. The past few months, he’d spent more time in my personal space than out of it. I’d wanted him gone.

But not like this.

I grimaced and then shook free of the unwanted emotions.

“Round them up,” I said.

“You are not my master,” Alain murmured. “You are but a child.”

My stake was against his chest in a heartbeat.

“A child who could kick your arse, Dupont,” I said.

“You would risk Lucien’s life when you have fought so hard for it?”

“Who’s to say your joining is symbiotic? The Black Witch changed it. I could rid the world of one sneaky little spy, and no one would notice.”

“Do it,” he said, pressing his torso against the tip of my stake.

I stared into his hard eyes. Cyan and turquoise stared back at me. Defiant.

Desperate.

Hakan’s hand landed on Alain’s shoulder.

“You have lost something,” he said quietly. “It hurts. But we are vampyre.”

“Survive at all costs,” Alain whispered.

“Survive at all costs,” Hakan agreed. “It was the one tenet of the Iunctio’s I could stomach. The one rule I could live by.”

“There are others worth knowing,” Alain finally said.

He stepped back, straightened the cuffs of his shirt, looked down at his hands, his fingernails. This was not the Alain Dupont I had grown up knowing.

He had lost something, and I feared it was his identity. Himself.

He finally looked up at me, and I saw a stranger. It hurt. Just like Hakan had said. But I showed no emotion.

“The Council chambers,” he announced. “They’ll be there. Waiting.”

“And we’ll bring whatever army we can muster,” I replied.

“You are your father’s daughter, Ellie,” he murmured. I took that and the fact he wasn’t calling me Bébé as a show of respect.

“Thank you,” I told him.

He nodded his head, met Hakan’s eyes, and then flashed out of sight.

“Your plan?” my Savaşçı said. He didn’t even spare the spymaster another thought.

Alain had never been a rival to Hakan. Merely an obstacle to overcome. And he’d just proven how well he’d managed that.

“Someone owes me a favour,” I said and started walking toward my once-upon-a-time favourite haunt.

“Lady Ellie,” Goran said. I stopped walking and faced the fairy. “I must make a report.”

“Will Aliath help?” I hadn’t considered the Dark Fey. I should have. But fairies could be contrary.

“I will ask,” Goran said and then popped out of sight.

“Shit,” I said.

“He asks for you,” Hakan murmured at my side.

“Yeah.” I shook my head. Goran would place himself in Aliath’s debt to ask for his help. For me. Not for my father and the Iunctio. But for me. “I guess for a green goblin he’s not such a bad guy.”

Hakan snorted and then gripped my hand, brushed his mind against mine, and then laughed. And then we appeared in Reggie’s Bar.

No, I corrected. We appeared in the arena out back.

I spun around as the crowd went wild. Stomping feet and loud cracks of sound as their beer mugs hit the bleachers at their sides. The cage came down. The rattle of the chains almost drowned out the sound of the crowd shouting. I could just make out what they were saying.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

I scowled.

The shadow of a figure appeared overhead, up in the viewing box that hung out over the stands. Ordinarily, you couldn’t see inside the one-way glass. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Hakan had. Reggie looked down on the arena and smiled. It was a toothy smile.

Then the intercom crackled and the chant the crowd had been making quieted.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our favourite Nosferatin,” Reggie said. “Where you been, El?”

“Has patronage been down, Reggie?” I shouted back.

He narrowed his beady little eyes.

“You owe me a fight,” he snapped.

“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered.

“Does a Durand not pay their debts?” he taunted.

“I owe you nothing, you piece of ghoul shit!” I shouted, throwing myself against the bars of the cage.

People on the other side of it scrambled back as if I could break free of the reinforced metal by simply being enraged.

“I’ll even let you fight unbanded,” Reggie replied.

“I’ll show you banding, you flesh eating bottom feeder!”

“Now, now, now, El,” Reggie said. “Just one fight. Come on! You practically lived your entire youth inside this arena. For old times sake. Come on! And it looks like you’ve got the perfect match already. Isn’t this the vampire you wanted to use to wipe the floor clean.”

“Ignore him,” I muttered to Hakan.

“I will cleave his body in two,” Hakan replied reasonably.

I smiled. Reggie’s scowl developed grooves on top of grooves.

“You owe me, Daughter of the Champion,” the fucking ghoul said.

“He didn’t,” I said with a sigh. Invoking my lineage always, always, got me riled.

But the anger wasn’t there this time.

I smiled.

Then I spun around and faced the crowd. Continuing in a slow circle, I spread my arms wide.

“You know who I am?” I shouted.

“El…lie! El…lie! El…lie!” the crowd cried.

“You know my name,” I said. “Good.” I took a step forward and thumped my chest. “I am the daughter of the Champion! I am the daughter of the Prophesied! I am the Entwined of a Mhachkay!”

Reggie’s scowl disappeared, replaced by shock which swiftly became dismay. I might have given him a juicy piece of gossip, and any ghoul worth his salt would salivate at that, but I’d given it to every one of the arena’s audience as well. He threw his hands up and sighed.

“You’ve seen me fight!” I shouted. “You know how good I am!” I pulled my jacket off and lifted my left arm up high. My Sigillum blazed all manner of colours. Red for passion. Crimson for fury. Honey for hope. Violet for outrage. Canary yellow for pride.

The crowd went wild. I spotted one or two familiar faces. Gavin, the young kid who’d held my gear for me while I’d fought Alain outside of Travis’ home met my eyes. He grinned back at me and pumped the air with his fist.

“Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!” he chanted.

“Today,” I said, amplifying my voice with my Light, drowning out his and everyone else’s words. The room blazed. The arena lit up with Enchanted magic. Hakan’s Mhachkay powers entwined with mine. The entire building came alive. “Today I will fight,” I said. “But not in the arena. Not here. Today I fight out there. On the street. In my city! Defending what is mine. I don’t need your money. I don’t need your adulation. I need you at my side. Will you fight with me? Will you fight to take back what is ours by right? Will you join the Nosferatin and the Nosferatu? Will you join me and fight?”

The thunderous sound of stomping feet met my ears, a crescendo of sound that threatened to bring the building down. Reggie looked apoplectic. He waved his hands around and then finally slammed his meaty fist into the button that raised the cage.

The rattle joined with the roar of sound, the floor shuddered beneath us from the stomping and rising of the cage. My body felt flushed. My Sigillum blazed. Light reached out and touched every single one of the people there.

They took up arms. They pledged to fight for their city. Their home. Reggie shook his head at me, but I noticed he armed himself as well.

The arena had been a place for me to make a name for myself. To fight in a way that I couldn’t growing up the daughter of the Champion. There was no judgement here, only the rapture of the crowd. There was no sanctimonious spymaster telling me I was a child. No rules and restrictions for a princess of the vampire council. There was fight or not fight. Money to be earned. Respect to be found.

It was my home when my home was often a political battleground.

My mother had taught me well. She’d raised me to be the best Nosferatin I could be. To hold a Svante sword for hours. To spin and dance through battlefields. My father had taught me differently, but no less importantly. In my dreams, he’d loved me freely. In my waking hours, he’d taught me how to survive.

Survive at all costs.

I was half vampire, half vampire hunter. My parents had done well.

“At this moment,” Hakan murmured beside me. I turned and looked up into stunning silver and ice-blue eyes. “You are a queen.”

I offered him a small smile.

“My Kafinefendi,” he said, and then fell to one knee before me and bowed.

Now the crowd went wild. They’d only been warming up before. Now they went ballistic.

Reggie’s Bar would be the talk of town.

If town survived.

16

Let Her

We marched up Queen Street. The crowd that followed behind Hakan and I grew larger as we approached Mayoral Drive. Word carried fast on the streets, and word the vampires who protected the city were in trouble and needed their help set a fire under a few butt cheeks.

There were a few Norms who turned away in disgust. Some fled in fear like cowards. Others hurled bottles at us. But the crowd didn’t retaliate, the Norms of the city weren’t our enemies. The enemy was at The Plaza.

And The Plaza was sick. I hadn’t sensed it before, but maybe the Norms who had busted in the front door earlier had triggered something that had been meant for Luc and me. The hotel was covered now in a red substance which on closer inspection looked like a climbing ivy. But The Plaza was over twenty floors high, and ivy wouldn’t stick to metal and glass like that.

And yet the building was crisscrossed with spindly red vines that wormed their way into the structure itself, threatening to make the entire thing topple.

It shouldn’t have been possible. My father’s wards should have prevented such an invasion. Which only hammered home to me how much trouble he and my mother were in. How much trouble the Iunctio was in as well.

“All that power,” Reggie said at my side, “and they couldn’t stop a plant from eating it?”

“That’s no ordinary plant,” I said. It was a parasite.

We approached the City Council building across the street from the hotel. Georgia was already there. Standing beside her was Jett Vardi. The Master Vampire of Auckland City. His crooked nose and long, curly black hair hadn’t changed an iota since I last saw him. He stared up at The Plaza with narrowed eyes. Sanguis Vitam thrummed all around him.

I might have been the daughter of the Champion, but Jett was Auckland’s Master Vampire.

I walked across the carpark and fisted my hand on my chest and bowed.

“Ellie,” he murmured. “Welcome back.”

He stepped forward and wrapped me up in a hug. He released me quickly, his eyes tracking Hakan.

“Hakan Bahar,” I said, indicating my vampire. “Jett Vardi, Master of Auckland City.”

They nodded heads to each other. Technically speaking, Hakan should have expressed his appreciation for being in another Master Vampire’s city.

Jett let it go which said a lot about how troubled he was at what he was seeing.

“Georgia says it’s a parasite,” Jett murmured.

“The Ljósálfar brought it.”

He nodded. “Any idea what will happen when we enter?”

“It can infect vampyre,” I said.

Jett swore softly under his breath.

“We need a fairy,” he said. None popped into existence at his side.

“Aliath is not listening,” Gigi muttered.

“Can you go get him?” I asked my friend.

Jett growled low. “She will not be entering Álfheimr until we sort this.”

“Now, hold on just a goddess-damned minute,” Georgia snapped.

Jett let out an impressive growl. Those Norms in the crowd shuddered. Every vampire turned and watched out of respect. The rest of the Supes just watched warily. An angry Master of the City was not something to be messed with.

The throaty purr of an expensive sports car arriving announced we had reinforcements, and broke the stand-off. Reggie let out a little squeak and slunk into the cover of the crowd. Frank, the head ghoul, stepped out of the red monstrosity to stand beside Ediz, Lucien, Zahra and Samson. Frank smiled a toothy smile and then clapped his hands together.

“I hear there’s to be a fight, vampyre,” he said to Jett.

“You hear correctly, ghoul.”

“My men are coming on foot. Ten minutes out.”

I wanted to be inside the damn building in ten minutes, not waiting for ghouls out on the sidewalk.

“Do we wait for the Fey?” someone asked.

Jett turned and looked at me.

“Do you think your man on the inside will convince Aliath?” Georgia must have told him about Goran, then.

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t count on it, but he does have a vested interest in all of this.”

“What interest?” Fairies rarely showed interest in anyone else’s lives. And just because Luc and I were Aliath’s self-chosen godchildren didn’t mean a damn thing to a Fey King, I was sure.

“They’re at war with the Ljósálfar,” I told the Master of the City. “What happens here has consequences in Álfheimr.”

It didn’t mean Aliath would come himself. But he would send someone. I just hoped he didn’t send Goran back by himself.

Lucien stepped up to my side. The familiar weight of his shoulder pressing against mine almost made my throat close up. I blinked my eyes dry.

“I say we head in,” he murmured.

“I agree.”

“Rushing into danger is not a good strategy,” Jett offered.

I turned and faced Vardi.

“It’s served me well until now. Why stop?” His lips twitched. “Our father is in there. Our mother. We can’t feel them.”

Jett didn’t show an ounce of compassion on his face, but I knew this vampire. He’d feel it.

“A corrupt king is coercing the Mhachkay,” I said. “This battle has been five hundred years in the making.”

“Then delay it a while longer so we can work out a decent plan of attack,” Jett said steadily.

Figures slid through the crowd toward us; it wasn’t until Alain stepped out into the open that I realised it was him.

“They’re in the chamber,” he announced. The Iunctio chamber. “The councillors are contained by that red vine.”

The parasite. I sucked in a breath of air and held it.

“The Mhachkay King sits upon the Champion’s throne and waits,” he continued. “His vampyre have killed the Norms who entered his domain and left them out for the Enchanted to find. A message.”

“And what does a message like that say?” I asked.

“Their throats have been sliced open. Their blood has been spilt. Wasted.”

They didn’t drink it.

“Disrespect,” Georgia growled.

“A show of power,” Samson added. “They do not need to feed; they’re already strong.”

“The parasite,” Zahra said, staring up at the hotel tower. “The bodies will be contaminated, and they’ll expect a Nosferatin to check each one.”

“Why infect us?” Luc asked her.

“To control you,” she said. “The parasite controls the Ljósálfar.”

“And the Kral controls the parasite,” I finished for her. She nodded her head.

“So we avoid the foyer,” Luc offered.

“The bodies are everywhere,” Alain told us. “Every floor my vampires went to, they found a Norm dead.”

“Did they touch them?” I asked.

He frowned at me. “Why would they?” he said.

I rolled my eyes. Eating leftovers wasn’t something a vampire did. And caring about the fate of a few Norms when their world was under attack would not be a high priority either.

I stared across the street at the hotel. The foyer was out. Every floor was booby trapped.

The wards were all down.

I turned to Hakan.

“I don’t have a convenient tunnel dug into the side of my castle,” I told him. “This hotel might be decades old, but it's not a historic building.” Not like his Mhachkay mosque was. “We use the front door. The backdoor. And a door that only the Iunctio know about. And that’s it.”

He studied me and said nothing. No one else said a thing too.

I was giving away Iunctio secrets. The ghouls were practically salivating at the mouth. Jett was impassive, but then he wasn’t an Iunctio councillor; he was the Master of the City and the city was his bottom line. He’d help. He’d fight. But when push came to shove, his tie to the city would win out.

Alain, on the other hand, watched me with fire in his eyes. No, not just fire, but smoke. Zahra’s Black Magic rose along with his ire.

I ignored him. He could have all the hissy fits he wanted; we had to get into that building.

“There is one other access into the hotel and consequently that chamber,” I said.

“The roof,” my brother supplied.

In the end, the divulging of secrets would be equally shared between us. Like so much was in our life. Luc looked at me and smiled. His eyes swirled with smoke and something else, something powerful, something Black but also not.

It will change them, Zahra had said.

I looked at the Mhachkay witch. She studied my brother, a crease marring her brow.

“I can take a few,” Hakan replied, his voice mellow and soothing as if he knew what divulging my father’s secrets had meant. “Zahra can take some too, but a portal would be better.”

I turned around and scanned the crowd. There were fairies amongst them. But not my Hyrða. I didn’t trust anyone else. Fairies could be tricksters. They’d just as soon send you through a portal to a desert island than send you where you wanted to go.

My eyes met Georgia’s. The Dark Shadow peeked out.

“Little one,” it said, and then Georgia stepped back and fell through a portal to Dökkálfa.

She couldn’t make portals herself, and she only had access to the one that led to Aliath’s Dark Fey Court. But she knew how to use it and use it well. Just like she did now.

Samson roared his fury. Jett joined him. Sanguis Vitam swelled. The rest of the vampires couldn’t help but react to it. Fairies scattered. Norms froze in fright. The ghouls all crouched, ready to fight something, anything; if it moved, they’d pounce.

Power swelled all around us, higher and higher, stronger and stronger. I hadn’t realised how close to the edge both Samson and Jett were. I flicked a glance at The Plaza. The vine that crept over its surface pulsed with red. Pulsed as if possessed with magic.

Was it tainting the air? Had it infected them?

I looked back at the two vampires. They were inconsolable in their rage. Hakan placed a hand on my shoulder. Luc urged Zahra to step back. The Black Witch ignored him.

I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I had to try.

I pulled on their Sanguis Vitam like I’d pulled on the Iunctio’s power in the Council chamber at Alain’s and my joining. I pulled and pulled until Samson and Jett calmed down. They slowly turned and looked at me.

In fact, everyone was looking at me. Norms. Fairies. Ghouls. Vampires. Shapeshifters.

The secret’s out, I thought and snorted. I’d spent the better part of my twenty-five years keeping mum about my powers. One little vampire tantrum and it all comes spilling out.

I released the Sanguis Vitam back into the ether and arched my brow.

“You done?” I asked.

They both snarled.

“In that case, you get to stay here and wait for Georgia and Goran,” I told them.

They blinked at me.

I turned to Hakan and Zahra.

“How many each?” I asked.

You would reveal our secrets too, hayatim, he said inside my mind.

How many? I shot back.

I can take you and Ediz, Zahra can probably manage your brother and his kindred as they are all connected now.

So, you’re telling me, you can only walk with your entwined and familiars between worlds?

He lowered his chin and stared at me through narrowed eyes. I crossed my arms over my chest and arched my brow.

Yes, Kafinefendi, he said.

I smiled.

“Change of plans,” I announced. I looked at Jett and Samson. “You guys wait for Georgia and storm the castle as our backup.”

“Castle?” Jett said as Samson scoffed, “Backup?”

I ignored them.

“We’ll head in and knock on the door,” I finished.

“Éliane,” Jett said as Samson muttered, “No, El.”

“The vines are growing,” I said softly.

Everyone turned to look at the hotel.

“If they’re growing out here,” I said.

“Then they’re growing inside,” Luc finished for me.

“Our parents,” I said.

“Our family,” he vowed.

We looked at each other. Luc looked like Luc until you looked him in the eye. I didn’t know what my brother had become, but I did know my brother. He was my twin. My other half. My soul mate. My best friend.

We’d entered this world together, minutes apart. If we had to leave it together, we’d do it the same way. By choice. Because of our shared love.

“Let’s do this,” he said.

“Let’s kick some arse.”

“Are you just going to let her waltz into a war zone?” Samson asked Hakan.

“Èliane is a Kafinefendi of the Mhachkay. I would raise my sword at her side.”

I beamed up at him.

“It’s a trap,” Jett said.

“Of course, it is, vampyre,” I drawled. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to trigger it.”

Jett growled low at me for my disrespect.

I fisted my hand across my chest to him and smiled.

“Your father will kill me if I do not attempt to stop you,” he murmured.

“My father may already have met the final death,” I told him.

Silence met my words. I nodded my head.

Slipping my hand into Hakan’s, I looked at my brother.

He was staring at the Black Witch.

“Wanna hold hands?” he asked her, smirking.

“That is the only thing of yours I shall hold,” she said.

He laced his fingers with hers. “Feels good doesn’t it?” he purred in her ear.

“Spymaster,” she snapped, ignoring Lucien. “Give me your hand. Now!”

Alain arched his brow but acquiesced. Wise man.

“She’s got wicked callouses, eh Dupont?” Luc said.

“I hadn’t noticed,” the vampire replied evenly.

“Knows how to handle a sword, I imagine,” Luc added.

“Please stop,” Alain begged.

“I wonder what type of sword she likes,” my brother mused. “Long and thin, like a rapier. Or thick and short…”

Zahra pulled them through whatever conduit the Mhachkay used to get around, and they winked out of sight.

Hakan stared at where they’d been standing, looking bemused.

“He will not win her like that,” he said.

“But he’ll have a lot of fun trying,” I said and tugged on his hand.

I’d take Lucien any way I could get him and seeing him flirt was a welcomed relief. But it wasn’t all of what he was now. I knew there was more. Flirting might be familiar, but what else would he do now? How else would he pursue her?

Did I want to know? Was Black Magic kinky?

I stepped onto the roof of The Plaza Hotel barely making a sound. Luc and the others were over by the door. Alain was using some sort of device to peer under it. We crossed the open space and watched the spy at work.

He held a small screen which showed the interior of the building. The wards would normally have been displayed on the screen in blue lines. But there were none to greet us.

Thankfully, there was also no red vine.

“They didn’t think we’d approach from the roof,” Hakan said.

“Or they haven’t found the door yet,” I offered. “It’s physically hidden as well as warded. And if they broke the wards in one hit, they wouldn’t have had time to trace them to their origins.”

“Good point, sis,” Luc said.

“My video feed to the council chamber has gone dead,” Alain advised.

So that’s how he knew what was happening inside there. I wondered if the Champion was aware of what his spymaster was up to. I doubted it.

But Alain had had his men in the building too.

“How did your spies get inside?” I asked.

“Through the front door.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that,” the spymaster said.

“Did they all get out again afterwards?” Luc asked.

Alain scowled down at the screen and then pocketed it.

“Coast is clear,” he said and picked the lock on the door and opened it.

He’d lost men today. He’d woken across the world in a city he once called home and found himself tied to a Black Witch and sharing a kindred.

And he’d lost men on a reconnaissance mission. All within a twenty-four hour period.

Alain Dupont was having a very bad day.

But at least he was no longer Dark.

I sent my Light out to soothe him. Nothing invasive. Just a touch to let him know I cared. His eyes met mine, and he let out a breath of air. And then he pushed through the door, leading into the building proper, setting the pace and facing whatever danger came at us head first.

Even now he carried out his role to his master. Protecting his sire’s children to the end.

I had misjudged Alain. But I also wasn’t sure we really knew him. He was powerful. Now doubly so, but he was hiding that side of himself well. And he was trapped. Did my father know?

Had offering me as Alain’s kindred been a way to contain the vampire a little longer? Knowing that in the end, I would go with a Mhachkay and never join with his spymaster. Had it given Papa some much-needed time to breathe? But what had my father used that time for exactly?

To make me stronger? To prepare me better? To find a way to let Alain go?

Alain was one of Papa’s first vampires. He didn’t have many left over from his early days. Alain was his oldest son in that regard. They’d been together a very long time. Was it simply a desire to hold onto the familiar? Vampires were notorious for not adapting to the passage of time. But I hadn’t thought my father was one of those.

It was a sad puzzle, a heartbreaking dilemma. I was sure my father had his reasons, and for once in my life, I decided to trust him; to not second guess him.

It was a new approach for me, but I was learning. Growing. I was not the daughter he knew when we last met.

Was he the same father I had left behind?

Alain went through the same rigmarole for the door at the bottom of the stairs that led onto the Iunctio Council’s top floor of the building. There were also no red vines here. And no wards.

“How do you think they did it?” I whispered.

“The Kral’s magic is strong,” Zahra said, her hands fisting.

I felt a well of anger stir in the pit of my stomach. It started to simmer away silently. I let it come to the boil. The Kral had hurt Zahra. Zahra who I didn’t really know but who had started to grow on me. She was strong and fierce. She could handle my flirtatious brother. She could handle his Dark when he’d had it. She was Hakan’s cousin and had helped me when I’d ask it of her.

The Kral would pay for so many things, most of all what he’d done to his niece.

Alain pushed the door open and peered through it. No Mhachkay jumped out to greet us. The coast was clear, but for how long? Surely they were monitoring the hallways. We all slipped through, one after the other, the door closing and disappearing seamlessly into the wall where it hid.

To the naked eye, it was invisible. Unless you knew to look for it, you wouldn’t see it.

We checked the rooms nearest and found them empty. Power throbbed from within the Council chamber itself. Ljósálfar Light, twisted and rotten, crept out to greet me.

“They know we’re here,” I said.

“Yes,” Hakan agreed. Maybe the Mhackay sensed something of their kind, too. It didn’t matter.

The element of surprise was lost. But not entirely.

Georgia would come back with Goran. And, hopefully, with a squadron of Dökkálfa Hyrða at his command. They’d get the ghouls, vampires, shapeshifters, and Norms up here.

I’d opened the door to the public, and I wasn’t the least bit sorry about that.

I started walking. Alain tried to push me behind him. I hissed. He snarled. Hakan hooked him around the neck and pulled him back.

“He thinks Éliane is the firstborn. Let her. She is the strongest of us now.”

“Stronger than you, Mhachkay?” Alain spat.

“Stronger than her father, the Champion. So, yes, stronger than me as well.”

I wasn’t sure what sort of staring match they were having. I didn’t have time to look over my shoulder at them. I pushed open the full-height double doors that barred entrance to the Iunctio Council chamber and walked into a vipers’ nest.

A viper’s nest covered in red, parasitic vines.

17

Damn It

The Iunctio Council chamber is the only part of The Plaza Hotel that has been decorated like an ancient castle. The high ceilings are curved with marble. Columns ring the entire grand space. At centre-front is a stage with a line of twelve chairs facing whoever has the balls to come in here and ask something of the vampire - and all supernatural - leaders.

My father’s chair was the biggest of the bunch.

The floor was covered with marble tiles; the chandeliers were French. Light glinted off fine art; some of the artists' works were thought lost to the annuls of history. But vampires could be sneaky bastards and had just hidden them. Greek sculptures stood spotlit under soft lighting, a grand fireplace welcomed more intimate conversations, but unless you stood in just the right spot, your words would be carried across the dome to the other side of the chamber.

They took that one from St Paul’s Cathedral in London. Mosaics covered the walls, and intricate murals covered the ceilings depicting vampires at battle, vampires feeding, and their kindred. The Iunctio might have been for all supernaturals but it was made up of vampires and ruled by vampires, and they liked to remind everyone of that.

I took in the shadows. The Erbörü standing silent and on guard. I took in the red vines as they wound around the columns and snaked across the floor. I took in the fairies who stood to the side, their eyes glazed over, red puss oozing from their pores, dripping onto the tiles at their feet; sending out little splat-splat-splat sounds that echoed up to the murals.

The Iunctio Council occupied the chairs either side of the Champion's. I saw the Enforcer, my Uncle Gregor. The Ambrosia. My mother, the Prophesied. They were all held securely to their seats by the red, pulsing vines.

On the Champion’s chair sat the Kral, wiping at his teeth with a handkerchief, cleaning away something that looked suspiciously like blood. There were no Norms in here. He hadn’t fed on any of them. My eyes scanned the vampires before me and then landed on my mother.

Her Light thrummed. Just there. Just out of touch. Her eyes met mine. Mine slid down her neck to where two precise fang marks stood out against pale skin.

The marks weren’t my father’s.

That boiling pit of anger almost erupted.

“Where is my father?” I said.

“Come, come, child,” the Kral soothed. “First, let’s have introductions.”

I hadn’t bowed. I hadn’t fisted my hand over my chest. I held the Mhachkay’s King’s stare in a challenge and growled at him. In essence, I flipped him off in the most demeaning way a vampire could.

Then I slipped out a stake and spun it.

The Kral studied me for a moment and then let his gaze wander. He took in Hakan first. There was no love lost between them and if the Kral had thought hiding his animosity for his wayward nephew would give him the advantage later, he dismissed it.

But then, there was no way those two would ever be batting for the same team ever again.

The King took in Zahra next, and the arsehole smirked when she couldn’t suppress a shudder.

I pulled out my second stake and started flipping it nonchalantly.

He moved on to peruse my brother. His eyes lingered on him for quite some time. Could he see the Black? I guessed he could; Lucien wasn’t hiding the smoke in his eyes right then.

The Kral didn’t even bother to assess Alain, and for that, he would suffer. The spymaster had a habit of making himself inconspicuous. He faded into the background whenever he wanted. It gave him an edge. An edge I hoped we could use now.

“This was all you could manage?” he said, amused at our meagre numbers.

“We don’t need more than this to send you back where you belong,” I murmured.

He hissed at me and stood up from the throne. His gait was smooth as he climbed down the steps but I wondered what it cost him.

I didn’t step back. I kept flipping my stakes. Watching him. Watching the shadows. Watching the domed ceiling and those ever creeping vines as they moved closer.

This had to stop. Posturing was a waste of time. But first, I needed to know where my father was.

“Nice dinner?” I asked the Kral.

He blinked at me and then slowly smiled. He also stopped approaching so at least I got something for my trouble.

“Delicious,” he said licking his lips. His fangs were down. I’d take the right one first. Snap it off like a twig. Then smash the pommel of my Svante into the left with as much savagery as I could muster.

“Where’s my father?” I asked again.

He ignored me. I hadn’t expected an answer. I’d just been filling in time while we all assessed the threats and waited for Goran and Georgia to turn up with the cavalry.

“Hakan Iskender Bahar,” the Kral said. “The prodigal son returns to the fold.”

“I am not returned nor am I your son,” Hakan murmured.

“And yet you are here,” the Kral said, throwing out his hands and turning around in a circle to indicate the chamber. “My new base of power. This will serve us much better than a rundown castle in Europe.”

Luc let out a hiss and crouched.

I pretended his lack of control was planned and smirked at the Kral.

Where are you, Papa?

“I could show you the sights,” I said to the King. “Where to get a good bottle of raki. How to avoid rush hour traffic. That sort of thing.”

“How kind, but I have other plans for you, my child.”

If he knew what I thought of being called a child, he would have known he was playing with fire. But I didn’t let him see my upset. The angry pit deep down inside boiled and bubbled until it was almost overflowing.

“Of course,” I said conversationally. “I’d try to stake you whenever you let your guard down.”

“I never let my guard down.”

“Even when you feed?”

“Especially then. Know you nothing of vampyre?”

“I know more than you think, old man. And sooner or later you will let your guard down. Know you nothing of Nosferatin?” I shot back.

“You are feisty,” he said. “Hakan has not broken you in yet. Good.”

“Maybe I broke him in instead,” I offered.

A few sniggers sounded out in the dim corners of the room. I let out my Light and touched on Mhachkay. They weren’t infected yet, but they were held in the Kral’s thrall. I checked and found every single Mhachkay in the building, bar Hakan and Zahra, enthralled by the Kral.

Their Erbörü familiars consequently enthralled as well.

That’s how he did it. He enthralled them. I didn’t know how he actually managed that, but I did know breaking that thrall would break their binds. Would they be like Zahra then? Would they have their own minds and be reasoned with? Would they respect Hakan and think him the true King of the Mhachkay?

I hadn’t had a crash course in Mhachkay politics yet. I didn’t know how the crown was passed from one to the other. I only knew what Zahra had shown me; what the ribbons had shown me of Zahra and the Kral.

She’d been defiant but trapped. And those Mhachkay she’d passed in the dining hall to reach him had been respectful and desirous in equal measures. But not once had they been like the Kral.

Papa? I said silently, sending my thoughts out into the world.

He didn’t answer.

I had to face facts. My father was either near death or in a position where if I acted he’d die anyway and if I didn’t act, he’d be killed afterwards. The Kral was holding him to ransom for my acquiescence. He expected me to behave because my father’s eternal life was at stake. Papa’s death meant Mama’s death. If I allowed one of them to die, I’d lose the other.

I looked at my mother. A soft smile appeared on her lips. The look she gave me was one full of pride. And love. So much love. She knew I’d come to a decision.

And she trusted I’d made the right one.

I am the daughter of the Champion. The daughter of the Prophesied. I am the goddaughter of the Enforcer and of the Ambrosia. I was raised by the Iunctio. I am entwined with a Mhachkay. I am half vampyre.

And I am also half Nosferatin.

“Enough!” I said, and my voice boomed. The chandeliers tinkled, the walls trembled, the floor rumbled. I stomped my foot and made the entire building shudder.

The Kral looked at me as if I had grown two heads.

I pulled it all to me. I pulled on every single bit of Light and Sanguis Vitam and uncorrupted power I could find. I skimmed over the red vines. I skirted the foul-smelling fairies. But everything else in the building was fair game, and I hunted.

I took a step toward the King.

“I AM THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHAMPION,” I growled. “THE DAUGHTER OF THE PROPHESIED.” One more step. “THE GODDAUGHTER OF THE AMBROSIA.” The walls shuddered. “THE GODDAUGHTER OF THE ENFORCER.” The ceiling started to crack. “I AM ENTWINED TO A MHACHKAY.”

Power built. The red vines trembled. The air buzzed with the force of my will. That pit of anger deep down inside bubbled over.

“I AM KAFINEFENDI TO THE TRUE KRAL,” I shouted. “ENOUGH!”

I’d kept advancing on the King while I’d shaken the building’s foundations. Shaken his foundations too, I thought smugly. I felt my well spill over. I felt the power I’d pulled to me flow out. Too much. More than I could handle.

I thought I was about to burst apart.

Then Hakan’s hand was on my shoulder. A soft squeeze; a barely-there form of encouragement. But I still battled to control the power that raged inside me; it built and built, and kept climbing higher.

Lucien appeared at my other side, haloed in Black, not Light. He looked frightening. He looked tremendous. So familiar and so alien. His hand landed on my free shoulder, and he offered me a fang-filled smile.

But still, the power built inside. I didn’t know how to turn it off. It was like a tap I’d spun, and now it was stuck in the on position and water was thundering through the pipes and had nowhere to go but out.

“WHERE IS MY FATHER?” my voice boomed.

The Kral stood before me, a mockery of a King. He shook his head, opened his mouth and no words came out.

I dreaded to think what I looked like. Was Lucien the normal looking twin now or was I? I think we’d swapped somehow. I wanted to swap back, but that seemed cruel to me. Why should Lucien be the only one to suffer?

I swallowed. I made a coughing sound. Something got caught in my throat.

Papa! I screamed inside my head.

Power swelled.

“Let it go, hayatim,” Hakan murmured beside me. “Choose your target and let it go.”

He was giving me permission; permission to kill the Kral. His King. His uncle. A madman.

I’m not sure what it said about me that I didn’t listen. That I’m stubborn? That I’m stupid?

Or that I’m my father’s child?

I let the power go, seeking out my sire, flowing down that connection he’d never fully severed. The threads that Zahra had spoken of; loosely held but not cut yet; waiting for me to call him back again.

Papa, I called. Come back to me.

Light blossomed beside the Kral and then in the next heartbeat Michel Durand, the Champion of the Iunctio, stood beside the Mhachkay King; magenta washing the room before him, the Kral’s Kilij sword somehow already in his hand; the silver shining brightly as it arced through the room directly toward his head.

The Mhachkay King’s body twisted one way, and his skull flew off in the opposite direction in a macabre acrobatic display that seemed too gruesome even for in here. But then I remembered what the fucker had done to Zahra.

The room seemed unnaturally silent. The world slowed enough for me to see dust motes float softly through the air. The thud-thud-thud of heartbeats echoed in the ether.

I stepped forward, unsheathed my Svante, reached down and hacked off one fang and then smashed the hilt of the sword into the other. Picking up the pieces, I turned and walked back to Zahra and then dropped them both at her feet.

Sound and movement and air rushed back in to greet me.

Zahra fell to one knee before me, head bowed, hand over chest, tears in her eyes.

Hakan slid down to the marble tiles of the Council chamber and matched her. Then one by one the rest of the Mhachkay and their Erbörü followed suit.

I stood in the centre of the Iunctio Council room and swayed. Power still fizzled and sparked inside me. My cheek kept twitching, and I didn’t think it was a muscle. My eyelids fluttered, and I couldn’t seem to stop them.

Papa stepped forward, rested a hand on my shoulder and washed me in his Sanguis Vitam.

It soothed. It calmed. It wrapped me up in his love and affection. In his pride and joy and just a wee bit of smugness.

Papa always did love it when he was right.

I looked up at him; really looked at him. He let me see inside. Inside his heart and mind, inside his soul. So full of Light. And then the Champion returned, and he surveyed the room with an impartial eye.

A pop of sound and the acrid scent of ozone bursting on the air announced the arrival of the Dökkálfa. And not just any Dökkálfa but Aliath.

“Champion,” he said in greeting and then wrinkled up his nose at the red vines. “Basty,” he snarled.

“Basty?” Hakan said, pushing to his feet again.

Aliath surveyed my Savaşçı. “One of yours I believe,” the Dark King said.

“Basty has been outlawed for millennia.” Hakan stared around at the red vines and grimaced. “No one would dare.” But the former Kral had.

Papa dismissed Hakan’s bristling anger with a swift nod of his head and then stared at Aliath.

The fairy stared back at him.

This could go on for hours. My legs felt like jelly, my head buzzed, my limbs tingled. I was exhausted. From the corner of my eye, I could still see the Kral’s severed head. No one else in the room had shifted.

I’d had enough. But I’d been taught well. Politics was a game for champions; a cunning arena I hadn’t fully appreciated utill now. I held back the tide of fatigue and stepped up to Aliath. The battle had been won, but the war was not yet over.

“Godfather,” I said. The Fairy King looked down at me, vivid green shining in his eyes. I pulled on some of his Fey powers and shielded myself. He smiled. “This basty thing,” I said. “It’s clearly powerful, I wonder…” I trailed off.

Aliath sighed.

“No,” I said with a small frown. “Of course not. It’s from our realm, Europe I’m guessing, so it wouldn’t be something you’re familiar with.”

Aliath crossed his arms over his chest. Hakan snorted softly behind me. Papa watched on amused, shaking his head, laughter and pride in his eyes.

Then Georgia said in a drawl as she walked into the room, a bunch of non-authorised creatures behind her, including fucking Norms, “Just ask him to fry it, El. He’d let you get away with one measly question. You did just acknowledge he’s your godfather. You’ve opened a can of worms there, my friend.”

“Hundr,” Aliath growled. “You step out of line.”

“The little one deserves the boon, Fairy,” the Dark Shadow said.

Aliath stared at Georgia. The Dark Shadow stared back. Samson’s Black Dog prowled off to the side, backing its mate up.

“Very well. One boon, goddaughter,” Aliath acquiesced.

I smiled up at the King of the Dark Fey and said, “Free my mother please, Aliath. Get rid of it.”

He nodded his head and the red vines sizzled, burned, and then shrivelled up and disappeared from sight.

Papa was beside my mother in the next heartbeat. They were kissing each other rather deeply after that.

I looked away. Aliath was still watching me.

“You could have taken the power and done it yourself.”

“That seemed rude,” I said.

“No ruder than you using my power to block my glamour.” His eyes, he meant.

I shrugged. “Small steps, god-daddy. Small steps.”

I turned away, leaving him to deal with his Ljósálfar cousins and searched for my twin.

“You need training,” Aliath called out after me. “I can teach you.”

Lessons in Álfheimr? Nah-uh. Not this chick. I waved and kept hunting for Luc.

He was sitting down beside my Uncle Gregor, talking quietly.

I didn’t want to disturb them, but I couldn’t seem to walk away. Hakan was surrounded by his Mhachkay cousins, Zahra was deep in the middle of the pack - or did they call their Mhachkay halves a flock? - right there with him. The Turkish vampires’ Erbörü familiars swarmed around them. Any minute I expected them to climb on top of each other like overenthusiastic puppies. Alain had disappeared as he so often did. Here maybe. Watching probably. Licking his wounds, undoubtedly. Everyone else was accounted for and busy.

I came to rest before my brother and uncle. Both looked up at me. Uncle Gregor shifted over and patted the seat between them. I turned and sat down, my Svante knocking the floor at my back.

“Hey, kiddo,” Uncle Gregor said. “You sure did make an appearance tonight.”

“Too much?” I asked innocently. “It was too much, wasn’t it? I should have worn the black and not the red.”

Luc snickered.

Uncle Gregor placed a hand on my knee and squeezed and then stood up and walked away to talk to the other councillors. Or cause trouble for my parents, it was debatable which.

Luc and I sat silently beside each other, staring out into the chaos that was the breached inner sanctum of the Iunctio Council chamber.

“I think I broke Dad’s office,” I said.

He snorted but said nothing.

“You know that saying? The one about never bringing a sword to a gunfight? Well, I brought ghouls and shapeshifters and fairies and vampires and Norms. Overkill much?”

Luc sighed.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“I don’t want to say it. Saying it makes it real.”

Tears threatened my eyes, and I didn’t know why they were there.

“Please don’t,” I whispered.

Luc reached over and slipped his hand into mine.

“I never thanked you,” he said. I shook my head. “You came after me. You found me. You saved my life.”

“Zahra did that.”

“Only because you asked it of her. She wouldn’t have looked twice at me if her Kafinefendi hadn’t made the request.”

There was that hint of jealousy again. So not Luc. So not my brother.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

“You can’t,” I whispered, turning toward him. “We just got you back. Mama and Papa haven’t even had a chance to hug you yet.”

“And why is that, sis?” Luc asked.

“Because they’re as horny as freaking rabbits,” I replied, arching my brow at him.

Luc didn’t fall for it.

“You’ve proven yourself, Ellie,” he murmured, staring off into the crowd and seeing nothing. Or maybe seeing something I could no longer comprehend. “I need to prove myself to them too, but first I have to figure out who I am.”

“You can’t do that alone!”

“I can’t do that with someone telling me how to act, who I should be, what they think I’ve become.” He looked down at me. “She doesn’t know, El. Zahra. She doesn’t know what the hell to make of me.”

I shook my head, unable to form a worthy argument. He spoke the truth. Zahra was stumped just as much as we all were.

“But she can help you figure it out,” I urged. “If anyone can, it’s the witch who stuck you with the black magic in the first place.”

“It’s called Muska. And there’re places I can go to learn.”

“Learn from Zahra. In Edirne. The Mhachkay castle must have rooms full of old books you can read.”

He pulled away and stood up. I stood up too, frantic.

“I don’t want to read about it, El. I want to learn to control it. I can’t do that with every single Mhachkay vampyre watching my every single move; I just can’t.”

“And Mama and Papa?”

Luc sighed, ran a hand through his dark hair, and looked out across the chamber to our parents.

“They’ll understand,” he said quietly.

“Well, I don’t,” I growled.

He smirked at me. “Mysteries are good for the soul, I believe.”

Had he heard Mama in Paris? He’d been unconscious. Smoke swirled in his eyes when he blinked innocently at me.

“Luc,” I said, my heart breaking.

“Let me go, El. Let me go. Please.”

Tears spilt over and slipped down my cheeks. My brother leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

“You’re a queen now,” he whispered. “Give them heaps.”

And then he spun away and in the next breath lost himself like Alain does in the crowd. Disappeared when I knew he had to be there still. Vanished when I could still smell his signature scent. Still feel his heat.

“Luc,” I whispered. “Damn it.”

18

And They Have Chosen

“Hayatim,” Hakan said from behind me. “It is time to go.”

I’d been standing on the rooftop of The Plaza Hotel for the past two hours hoping to get a glimpse of my brother. Down there, in amongst the chaos and rubble; flitting between the shadows like only a spy could.

It had been three weeks since he’d vanished. Alain had vanished not long after him. I could only hope they were together. Three weeks of mending wards and glazing Norms and putting supernaturals back in their boxes.

Three weeks of negotiations between the new Mhachkay Kral and the Iunctio Council.

Negotiations had now come to an end.

“Is it done?” I asked my Savaşçı. “Are the Mhachkay once again part of the Iunctio?”

“Yes,” Hakan said quietly, walking up to my side. He stared out at Auckland City. At my home.

I could see the wharves from here. I could almost make out the crater in the ground that was once Travis’ home. The fires that burned in drums to keep the homeless warm. The makeshift arenas that dotted the landscape. I could see toward Newmarket and Guts & Glory Bar. I could see Reggie’s place down on Lower Queen and Fort. I could see Georgia’s and Samson’s home. My own.

I knew every crevice, every broken down shelter. I knew how the ghouls thought and what was acceptable to barter. I knew the sixteen different and complex routes the Iunctio guards took. I knew this VC like the back of my hand.

It was my home.

But no longer.

Mhachkay Krals do not rule without their Mhachkay Kafinefendi beside them. And I would never let Hakan go anyway, so there was that.

“May I speak with my daughter?” a cultured voice said from behind us. Hakan turned to face my father and nodded his head. His mind brushed mine in comfort and then he was gone. Taking oregano, mint and the soft breeze off a salty ocean with him. Taking the sunlight, tulips and olive groves.

It called to me.

I would come running.

Papa walked up to my side and stood shoulder to shoulder, staring out over the darkened city. His city. Never mind it had a Master Vampire in charge; Jett was a figurehead, and he knew it. He’d long ago accepted his power lay in a different direction, wielded by the hand of a snarky Nothus and her Dark Shadow.

“Where is he?” I said.

“I do not know. I cannot feel him.”

“You cut his threads,” I accused.

“He was pulling me under.” Pulling the Iunctio under.

“Did you even try?”

“I sent you. What more did I need to do, ma chérie?”

I snorted.

He turned to look down at me.

“Listen to me, Éliane, for I shall say this only once. Never doubt yourself. You are your mother’s child. Your Light far outshines any other. Even hers.”

“She’s the Lux Lucis Tribuo.”

“And you are Èliane Durand, entwined with a Mhachkay, Kafinefendi of their kind. One drop. One bite. That’s all it would take, my darling. You are Blood Enchanted. Just like your brother.”

“You trust he’ll come back to us.”

“Oui.”

My father only ever spoke French when he was emotional. I turned and looked up into beautiful magenta-washed eyes. His dragon stared back at me and then retreated to his garden, leaving a puff of smoke on the air. It reminded me of Lucien.

“The dragon understands what he is, doesn’t he?” I said.

“He has an idea.”

“Has he told you?”

“Yes.”

I arched my brow.

“Do you not think it best,” my father said softly, “that I allow Lucien to discover this on his own; without interference?”

“You? Not interfere?” I snorted again.

Papa smiled. “Kiss your mother goodbye when you go,” he ordered.

I saluted him.

“Ma chérie, je t'aime. Je t'adore.” And then the Champion walked across the roof and disappeared inside.

“Huh,” I said, and pulled myself together.

I found my mother down in the foyer, decorating the twelve-foot Christmas tree in blood-red baubles.

“You’ll come back in a few weeks, won’t you?” she said. “Christmas dinner? We’re having roast lamb.”

“Of course,” I told her, wondering if Christmas would be empty without my brother. “But you’ll also have to come to our place and try out the Turkish cuisine.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “Tzatziki?”

I laughed. My mother wrapped me up in her arms; I felt her tremble. She was thinking of not being able to wrap Luc up like this. It was breaking her apart.

But when I pulled back, I saw only the Nosferatin in her. Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

And never let them know your heart is breaking.

“À bientôt, Mama,” I murmured.

“Go kick some Turkish butt,” she said in answer.

I was laughing when I walked outside onto the driveway. Hakan waited with Ediz, along with those of his Mhachkay vampires who’d stayed behind to help out with the negotiations as well. Some had gone on ahead to prepare the castle. Zahra had been one of them.

I missed her. I wondered if she’d even be there when we arrived or whether she would have gone after my brother.

Hakan had convinced her to stay until all was settled with the Iunctio. Wandering the world without their protection was not wise. He’d told her she could hunt her prey when the dust had settled. In those exact words. Hunt her prey.

I’d seen the spark in her eyes.

“Ready, hayatim?” he asked, holding out his hand.

If Norms were watching they’d see the might of the Mhachkay. The power they wielded. Our exit had been planned and approved by my father. I reached out and slid my calloused hand into that of my husband’s.

My Kral’s.

He grinned at me. Silver flashed in his eyes. And then we were in a sumptuous chamber, incense burning, candles flickering, the shutters closed to keep the sunlight out. I could smell meat cooking. Heavy with spices. The Mhachkay ate normal foods as well as consumed blood to stay alive, so I didn’t doubt that I’d get good meals in this castle.

I looked around the space. It was a room fit for a king.

“And a queen,” he said, watching me closely.

“It’s lovely,” I told him.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“Did you know,” he said, prowling closer. “That a Mhachkay King cannot rule without a Queen at his side.”

“You already told me this,” I said softly.

My pulse sped up the closer he got. My head felt fuzzy when I could detect his signature scent so near to me I could touch it.

“The former Kral forgot this,” Hakan said, circling. “Or perhaps he chose to ignore it. In any case, he ruled through thrall, and that is no way to rule at all.”

“You won’t need to enthral your people?”

He shook his head. “Our people, Kafinefendi. And I do not rule alone.”

What was he telling me?

He stepped up to me, chest to chest, thighs to thighs. He reached up and cupped my cheek.

“You are my Queen,” he murmured. “I am your King. We are Entwined.”

“What happened to your uncle’s queen?” I asked, swallowing thickly at the promise I saw in his eyes.

“She died. They were not entwined. We have not had Enchanted for centuries. I am the first to entwine in quite some time, and even if our king had not been mad, I would have supplanted him.”

Was that why it was so easy for Zahra to accept him as Kral? Because he was entwined with an Enchanted?

No, she’d accepted him even before they’d been imprisoned. She’d told the former Kral that just before he’d backhanded her. And did other things I couldn’t stomach.

I pushed the unwanted images from my head. Hakan growled low and cupped my cheeks with both hands.

“He is gone. Your father killed him. The Mhachkay will be in debt for quite some time.”

“In debt to my father? The Champion?” I laughed.

Hakan smiled. “Ironic, no?”

I nodded.

“My Queen,” he said. “I can not do this alone.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Spit it out, Savaşçı,” I said.

He flashed fang. I snarled right back at him.

“We do not have one throne,” he finally said. “We have two. And you and I shall rule side by side. Together. You have earned that right.”

The Mhachkay were equal rights opportunists. Go figure.

I smirked.

Hakan growled.

And then I was on the big, fluffy bed and the gauzy curtains were billowing out in the air that we pushed out as we flew past them, and Hakan was nuzzling my neck, tickling my sides, making me gasp. I sent out my Light. He wrapped me up in his magic. The zilant hissed. The owl hooted. The man kissed me silent.

Edirne, or as the Mhachkay still called it, Adrianople was not yet my home. I was not yet familiar with it. But I would become familiar with it. I would walk its streets. I would find its shadows, and I would shine it all with my Light.

I would meet the ghouls, and I would check out the arenas, and I would make sure creatures of all descriptions knew who lived here. Who watched over the city like my father watches over Auckland.

Like my mother watches over it with him. At his side.

And I would trust Papa. I would trust that he was right. That Luc would come back to us. I would give my brother his space and let Zahra hunt him. And if he didn’t come back in a year or two, I would set out and find him myself and drag his stubborn arse back to Auckland to see his Mama.

Who was I kidding! I’d give him a month, four weeks tops.

“Give him a little longer than that, hayatim,” Hakan said sometime later as he lay naked and sated beside me.

“He’s my brother!”

“And he is an adult. It is his life.”

“You think Zahra will find him, don’t you?” I said.

Hakan smiled, twirling one of my dreads around and around between his fingers.

“I have no doubt,” he said and then buried his nose in the crease between shoulder and neck, and started nuzzling; sending my pulse rate skyrocketing.

“Again?” I accused as his hands got busy and his fangs came out.

“All night,” he growled and then rolled us. I sat astride him. He stared up at me; something I hadn’t realised I’d been seeing in his eyes for some time now stared back. “Always,” he whispered. “For eternity, hayatim. One bite. One drop.”

“Two hearts. Two souls,” I said softly.

“And they have chosen.”

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Message From The Author

Hello, fellow Kindred-ite!

This is the last Ellie & Hakan story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did penning it.

I started writing BLOOD ENCHANTED because of all the countless messages I received from KINDRED fans requesting more of that world and more of the delicious characters within it. I had no intention of writing a new spin-off in that universe, but I couldn’t ignore the demands for…more. More! MORE!

So, Ellie and her story were born, and while I dipped my toe back in the waters that are KINDRED, I discovered something…

I absolutely still love this world.

So much so, that although Ellie & Hakan’s story is complete, I’m not ready to leave BLOOD ENCHANTED.

Next up will be Lucien’s story. Because let’s face it, that boy has a heck of a lot of story to tell.

And on an entirely separate but also altogether related note, I have kinda-sorta completely fallen back in love with Aliath. So maybe, just maybe, we’ll see something from the Dark Fey King as well.

Because, you can never get enough KINDRED, now can you?

♡ Nicola

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