Darkest Risings (6 page)

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Authors: S. K. Yule

BOOK: Darkest Risings
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She
had had enough. He was her son. Yes, she’d made mistakes, but everything she’d
done was in an effort to protect him and the rest of her children. He could at
least give her the courtesy of listening to her explanation before storming out
of her life forever. She squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hand over her
heart. “I will set you free, Uriah. All that I ask in return is for you to listen
to what I have to say first.”

“I
don’t have any desire to listen to—”

“Silence!”
she said loudly. Miraculously, he obeyed. “I know you hate me. I understand
why. But you are still my son whether you like it or not, and you will listen
to me. I have not kept you in a dungeon, Uriah. I have given you everything you
could desire. A mansion, women, technology. Everything!”

“Yes,
you have. Everything except freedom.”

She
took in a calming breath. “Yes. Except that. Now I will remedy that, but you
must agree to hear me out first. And when I say hear me out, I mean hear
everything I tell you, and give my explanation some honest thought.”

“You
are serious?”

She
nodded.

“Fine.
I give you my word that I will listen to what you have to say with an open
mind. But only if I am allowed to make my own decisions afterward for the rest
of my life without interference from you.”

She
nodded again, and he sat down on a large leather sofa. If there was one thing
about Uriah that was exceptional, it was his determination to always keep his
word. She’d raised him the best she could under the circumstances. He’d had
exceptional schooling, and had been exposed to everything he’d missed
throughout the years in the real world. He’d been trained to fight by the best,
and he’d learned about hunters and shadowdrifters. He knew all of the history
of vampires and the legend of Ragnor. Now she was about to give him a dose of
reality to go along with that legend, and he was going to despise her for it.

She
sat down in a matching chair across from him and prayed that she could find the
right words to make him understand, to give him a reason, however small, to
eventually forgive her.

“I
don’t expect you to forgive me for what I’ve done even after what I am getting
ready to tell you. In fact, some of it will probably make you hate me more. The
only thing I ask is that you try to understand that I love you, and everything
I’ve done was to protect you. I know now that that in itself is no excuse. I
took your freedom from you, but I did it with the best intentions. Please bear
that in mind.”

Uriah
nodded again.

“The
legend of the Vampyre King Ragnor, is no legend. He is your father. He’s also
the father of your brothers.”

Uriah
sucked in a sharp breath, and Marilena shook her head.

“Let
me finish and I will answer any questions you have.”

“I
have a feeling my list will be long.” He cracked his knuckles.

“Your
brothers know nothing of your existence or of anything I am about to tell you.
You are not the only one I have deceived. I must make amends with them as
well.” She frowned then hardened her resolve before continuing. “You are the
youngest, and when I became pregnant with you, Ragnor had a profound vision. He
said once you all found your
viata amants
,
he could perform a ritual that would bring you into your true blood powers.
This could not happen until you were all anchored to your life mates, as the
power can become overwhelming. Your life mates will keep you grounded, keep the
power from making you crazy.

“Once
this happened, there would be an uprising in the drifters. This uprising has
already begun. The drifters have a new leader. We thought we killed him, but he
is more powerful than we imagined. It is rumored that he is a true blood,
however, Ragnor has not been able to establish who he is as of yet. We have a
name, but no other true bloods are known to be left in existence other than
Ragnor, our children, and technically, me. He can personally account for
everyone in his bloodline and their deaths. This drifter leader named Trinidad
is a complete mystery.

“I
thought I could stop the prophecy from coming to pass by leaving Ragnor, wiping
your brothers’ minds of my pregnancy, and keeping you locked up.”

“If
I’m locked up, I can’t find my
viata
amant
, therefore the prophecy can’t happen,” Uriah said.

“Yes.
But I was wrong. Ashe and Aiston both have found their
viata amants
within the past couple years, and Ragnor says Aldin
will soon find his. But even more wrong was I that I fear I’ve caused the death
of your sister, Estril.”

“I
have a sister too? Damn it, Mother. You’ve deprived me of everything important
in a man’s life. Family and freedom.”

“I am
sorry. I know you don’t believe that, but I am truly sorry.” She sighed in
resignation and continued. “Estril was slain by Trinidad. I believe this was
Fate’s way of removing an obstacle.”

“You’re
fucking with Fate by not allowing me the opportunity to find my life mate and
fulfill the prophecy. Fate fights back by removing one of the pawns from the
game. Estril.” The pain dancing in his eyes was evident.

Marilena
sobbed. “All I ever tried to do was keep you all safe, and I’ve accomplished
nothing but terrible things by doing so. My daughter is dead. You hate me, and
my other sons will soon hate me as well. I’ve lost everything, but I guess I
deserve it. At least I had my freedom, and got to choose my path in life. I
robbed you of that. I only hope that one day, you can understand my reasoning.
I honestly did it because I love you so much. I couldn’t bear the thought of
losing any of my children. And now I’ve lost one anyway, and will probably soon
lose the rest.”

 

* * * *

 

Uriah
wanted to strangle his mother. But the truth was, he didn’t hate her. Disliked
her immensely, but didn’t hate her. Oh he’d tried to over the years, convinced
himself he did, but she was still his mother. He doubted his ability to forgive
what she’d done, but hoped one day he could. His anger toward her would not die
anytime soon. Right now, he was in shock from the overload of information she’d
given him.

He
had brothers. His sister—the one he’d never been given the opportunity to
meet—was dead. His father was a damned legend come to life, and he was about
ready to gain his freedom and be thrust into a war. He’d longed for his
freedom, salivated for it like a starving dog after a bone that lay just out of
reach, but to gain it only to possibly die and lose the family he’d never
known? It was beyond comprehension.

He
stood and stared down at his mother’s pale, beautiful face. How he’d longed to
love her like a son should. In his own way, he did love her, but not in a way
born from nurturing and caring. He loved her out of loyalty and because he felt
he should. After all, what did it say about a man that didn’t love his own
mother? He was beyond pissed. Beyond feeling betrayed. He’d been robbed of
everything by the one woman who he should have been able to trust above all
others.

“Take
me to my brothers,” he said through clenched teeth after standing.

She
nodded. “Will you give me a chance to explain to them first?”

“You
have two days, Mother. After that, you better take me to them or there is
nowhere on this earth you will be able to hide from me.”

She
stood and laid her palm against his chest just over his heart. “You are free,
my son. I will come for you in two days and take you to your brothers. I’m
sorry.”

Just
like that, she was gone. Uriah knew he should leave immediately. He’d never
been outside the mansion’s wall. But where the hell was he supposed to go? No.
He’d endure two more days in captivity, and when those two days were up, he’d
leave and never look back. Besides, what the hell were two more days in the
grand scheme of shit that had just rained down on him?

 

Chapter Six

 

Wilhemina
stretched then winced as sore muscles in unfamiliar places reminded her of last
night’s activities. A smile curved her lips. Aldin. Her one night stand—well,
sort of anyway. Even in the stark light of day, she couldn’t find it in herself
to be a smidgeon of appalled over what she’d done with him. She’d had sex with
a gorgeous man—again, sort of—and she refused to be one of those women who
regretted everything about how and when she’d lost her virginity.

She
sat up and struggled with sheets that had become entangled around her legs. Was
there something wrong with her that she was happy to have gotten rid of her
virginity?

“Hell
with it. It was mine to do with what I wanted, and I wanted Aldin. Case
closed.” She shuffled around the tiny B & B room, picking up her scattered
clothes from the floor.

Guilt
gnawed at her for deceiving Aldin. She hadn’t set out to make him angry, but
what did it matter? She’d never see him again. She ignored the small pang of
regret tickling her chest. He was magnificent. No one could deny that fact, but
he’d been rough around the edges. He’d been quite a handful, and she got the
distinct feeling he’d been holding back to some degree. He’d been right. She
was not experienced enough to take on a man of his caliber.

She
shrugged. What happened last night was in the past and would remain a
spine-tingling memory to be unleashed on lonely nights. She needed to look to
the future, make a fresh start. She dug some clean clothes out of her suitcase
and headed for the shower. First thing on her agenda was to find a place to
rent. Plainview hadn’t changed much since the last time she was here, but that
wasn’t surprising. From her experience, small towns didn’t change much.

A
quick shower, a quicker breakfast, which consisted of a pastry and coffee from
Mrs. Chatterfield’s bakery, and two hours later, she crossed the last of the
three rentals off her list. She didn’t mind a fixer-upper, but a
faller-down-around-the-ears was a completely different story.

She
sat on a bench in the town’s center. The old brick road of the square had
remained as a reminder of the history of the town along with the huge oak tree
in the middle. The tree had been there since before she was born, probably
since before her grandmother or this town was born, for that matter. It was a
majestic tree, its branches swaying gently in the warm August breeze. She sipped
at the fresh cup of coffee she’d gotten—again, from Mrs. Chatterfield’s—and
wondered what she was going to do about living arrangements.

She
could continue to stay at the Bed and Breakfast, but she’d wanted to get set up
in someplace more private. She frowned, thinking that she wasn’t going to have
a choice in the matter unless she left Plainview.

“Wilhemina?
Wilhemina Jenkins? Is that you?”

She
turned in the direction of the feminine voice, and smiled at a familiar face
from her past. “Ebony White? You look wonderful!”

She’d
been two years behind Ebony in school. They had talked on several occasions,
hung out off and on, but the age difference had kept them from running in the
same circles most of the time. She’d always remembered Ebony as a kind person,
and had thought about her often over the years when she’d reminisced about
home.

Wilhemina
stood and hugged her. Even though Ebony was two years older, she appeared to
have aged in reverse. If anything, she looked closer to twenty-five than a
woman in her thirties. Her blonde hair was shiny and longer than it had been in
high school, and her skin was flawless. In fact, upon closer scrutiny,
everything about Ebony seemed flawless.

“Ebony
Aleksandrov, actually. I got married.” She smiled warmly.

“Oh,
that is wonderful. Did we go to school with him?”

“No.
He—
we
live in St. Louis. His name is
Ashe. I still have my house here, though. It’s a bookstore now.”

“Your
house? The Victorian?” When Ebony nodded, Wilhemina continued. “Did your aunt
move?”

“No.
She passed.” Ebony frowned.

“I’m
sorry. I didn’t know.”

Damn,
Ebony’s parents had been killed by a drunk driver when she was young, and now
the aunt that had raised her was gone as well. Bad luck. She understood all too
well what it was like being without parents.

“Thank
you. It’s still hard at times, but I’m very happy. I have a baby boy too. He’s
around here somewhere with his Aunt Avril.” Ebony looked around in obvious
search of the pair. “Avril’s my best friend, and I consider her a sister. She’s
married to my husband, Ashe’s brother, Aiston.”

At
that moment, a tall, dark-haired woman carrying a baby hurried toward them from
across the street. Ebony frowned when she saw the donut in the baby’s hand.

The
woman held up her hand. “I know. I know. But it is impossible to come to town
without him getting his fix from Mrs. Chatterfield’s.”

“I’ve
been there twice today already.” Wilhemina laughed.

Ebony
reached for the boy, and he gave her a gooey kiss on the cheek. “This is Marcus
and Avril. Avril, this is Wilhemena. Is it still Jenkins?”

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