Fate Of The Minotaur (Her Dragon's Bane 5) (6 page)

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Authors: Harmony Raines

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BOOK: Fate Of The Minotaur (Her Dragon's Bane 5)
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“So how do I know that you are the one I should trust? How do I know you are the good in this war?”

“War?” he whispered. “So that is what is to come. Oh, my dear Sybil, please tell me what you know.”

She stood, her lips tight as she studied him. This was the first time, in so many years, that she was thinking of telling someone what she had seen. And if he listened and acted on her vision, that would be something new. And it scared her. What if by interfering she made it worse?

Then her dream flashed in front of her eyes, and she knew it couldn’t be any worse. Then she stopped, her breath held in her throat. There he was. She replayed it again. And when her eyes flew to his, she saw pain there. He didn’t need her to speak; he knew that she had seen his death in those images.

“Ahh. So it comes at last. Do you know how many centuries I have lived? How long I have thought that death would be a release. But now it is nearly upon me, I would cling to this waking death.”

 

Chapter Thirteen – Fin

He woke up to find her gone. For a moment, he lay there, his hand on the cold sheets. She had been gone for a long time, but it was still dark outside. Why would she be up in the middle of the night? Another dream—or perhaps she knew one was coming and she went to hide from it in the light of wakefulness.

Expecting to find her downstairs in the small kitchen, he dressed and headed down to her, wanting to comfort her and chase all her demons away. It was empty. Going to the kettle, he found that to be as cold as the bed; she hadn’t come down to make some soothing tea. She must be outside. Panic took him: if she was outside, even on the veranda, she was vulnerable.

When he pushed the handle down, he was surprised to find the back door locked. She must be in the house somewhere. He went from room to room, searching, calling, his voice becoming frantic. At last, he returned to the bedroom and switched on the light; he saw her discarded nightclothes on the floor. She had dressed before she had gone out. Sybil had left voluntarily.

Had she gone to the dragons? He ran down the stairs, practically tore the back door from its hinges when he couldn’t find the key, and fled into the night. He would go to Charlotte first, then if she had no answers, they would go to the Stronghold.

His head was filled with confusion and a growing rage. It clouded his mind, making the forest in front of him, already dark and foreboding, seem like such a terrifying place. Especially when he thought of his sweet Sybil out here alone. He sprinted faster—so fast he didn’t see the shape of a woman to his right, he didn’t even know she was there. Not until he tripped over her outstretched foot and sprawled onto the ground for the second time in twenty-four hours.

Before his body had even touched the ground, he was propelling himself up, his fists clenched, ready to fight. He cursed himself for not bringing one of this wooden stakes with him: if this was a vampire, he might be doomed. Maybe it was a mistake coming here to Spellholm, but if he met his death, at least the realm of the Labyrinth would be relinquished from his care. Open for anyone to find it. He might have regretted leaving there, taking on this strange face, but that would mean he would never have met Sybil, and he loved her with all his heart. The same heart her kisses had unlocked.

But when a voice spoke at last, he knew he wasn’t in danger. The red mist of his rage filled his head all the same.

“Now, now, you bull-headed monstrosity. Put your fists away, I have come to help you find Sybil. But if you want her to be safe, you have to do exactly as I say.”

“I don’t know if I trust you, Tara.”

“Then go bumbling about the forest. You make enough noise to wake the dead.” She leaned forward, putting her mouth to his ear, and said, “But your dear Sybil has already done that.”

He fell back from her as if her words had struck him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“She has gone to tell her news to the vampires. Now it’s my duty to see that this turns out all right for my mate. So you are lucky we are on the same side. But you have to do what I say, Minotaur. It’s nearly time for the dragons to join this fight. However, things have to be done in the right way.”

 

Chapter Fourteen – Sybil

“If I tell you, will you let me go?”

“So valuable a gift. That is a lot to ask. What if I need you again?”

“My visions aren’t something you can command. They only tell of big, terrible things.”

“And this thing you saw is big and terrible?”

She knew he was diverting the question into one of his own, but she allowed him, unable to pressure him into a decision that might not be favourable to her. “Yes. The worst I have seen.”

His eyes glowed once more, his excitement showing in the way he looked at her. “Tell me.”

Still she hesitated, but he leaned closer, his fangs extending to slide across her jugular. Then he pulled back, as if changing his mind.

Sybil phrased her answer carefully. “The war that is coming, you know of it?”

“I know that there are whisperings in the wind. My rival is mustering his close associates to his side. But there is nothing concrete. No time frame. I do not want them to know how much I know. I have one of my most trusted friends on the inside of his faction. I do not want to risk his death.”

“If I was to tell you when this is to happen. This would be of use to you?”

“Don’t toy with me, child. I can make you tell me.” She took a step back from him. “Don’t worry, I’m not the kind who enjoys torture. No. You have already seen the way a vampire can control a human. A glamour of sorts.”

“A glamour,” she repeated to herself.

“Yes. I can make you do whatever I want. But that is not how I want our relationship to be, Sybil. I want us to be friends.”

“But I am not allowed to leave.”

“Let’s just say for your own safety, you are my guest.”

“He is to attack tomorrow night,” she said quickly.

If a vampire could pale, then this one did. His already white skin became translucent in his shock. “There were no whisperings of this. How can he keep it so quiet?”

“Because those who he has enlisted are from elsewhere. Not Hollowton.”

His gaze became like a laser, pinpointed on her eyes. “Tell me from where?”

“A place called Christon.”

He turned and swept away from her. “So that is his game. He has joined with others, willing to let his kin be destroyed for his own gains.”

“There’s more.”

“Tell me.”

“He will use your friend against you. They know he is a traitor. The leader will come to you, with his ring and threaten you. Any hesitation in your face will prove your guilt, and then he will have your friend killed. He will try to blame you for the death, to drive a wedge between those who support you here in Hollowton. You have to circumvent this.”

“You see all this?”

“And more,” she admitted. The thought of someone actually caring about what she had seen was almost too much. Whether he had put his spell on her, or she was just too desperate for someone to listen to her, she wasn’t sure.

“Tell me everything.”

And she did. “They will confront you and there will a be a battle. This other leader will slay you. He will put a stake in your heart.”

The vampire placed his hand over his non-beating heart, flinching at the thought. She had to decide if he was worth saving. But when she examined the outcome of his death, she knew that he must be the key. If she could keep him safe, if she could make him the victor, then the human race might be saved.

“I’ll tell you exactly how he does it. Then you can be prepared.”

“There a way I can stop my death?”

“I think so. It will mean you listening very carefully to what I say.”

“Can I trust you?”

“That would depend. I want your word that when this is over, I get to leave.”

He held his hand out to her. “I give you my word. If you help me to survive and be victorious, then you can leave, with my thanks.”

She put her hand in his, feeling the coldness, the fragile, papery skin enveloping her and threatening to take the warmth of her life blood, as the chill spread from him to her. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“My name? It means nothing here in this world of the undead.”

“I want to know who you were, so I know I am doing the right thing by saving you.”

He chuckled. “Your vision must already tell you that or I believe you wouldn’t let me live. I think I am as much your best hope as you are mine.” He studied her, weighing and measuring her. Then he said, “I was a great lord. And a bit of a cad. Lord Angus of Middleham. Such great things were expected of me. But I slept with a woman, and her husband found out. He paid a man to kill me. Only that man gave the ticket to a vampire, who turned me instead. I struggled not to bring death and destruction on the husband of the woman I slept with. I blamed him. Nights, I would sit on their windowsill and watch them sleep. But then I realised the fault was mine. I was corrupt, I was in the wrong.”

“So you let him live?”

He looked at her mournfully, the red in his eyes almost gone. “No. One night I saw him strike her. I watched while she wept and he forced her to do such degrading things. It was then that I realised she had sought my arms as a way of escape. A few hours of pleasure to make up for the pain of her marriage. So I killed him and freed her from it. Then I left the place I grew up in and somehow came here. I have found peace amongst my own kind. Yet there are those of us who do not want peace. They want to enslave the human race. Bleed them until they can bleed no more.”

“So what part do the dragons play in this?”

“Dragons? None, there is a truce between us.”

“But a vampire tried to break that truce.”

“Really? I had no idea.” He was silent, thinking for a moment, his whole body and his face so still, he might have been made from hard marble. “Ahh. There were five deaths. A fire. Yes. I see now. But why?”

Then he moved, ostentatiously strutting across the room as though he were a great host and she, his invited houseguest. She stood still, her half-emptied glass in her hand. When he reached the staircase and saw she wasn’t following, he turned and called her. “Come, Sybil. You should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for us both. Let us hope we will both be here by the end of it all.”

She carried her glass, not sure what she was supposed to do with it, and followed him up the ornate staircase. He took her along a corridor and deeper into his lair. She had no choice but to follow. And when he stopped outside one of the countless doors, she hoped he didn’t expect her to spend the night in the same room as him.

“Here, you will be safe. Nothing can get in, and I trust you not to be foolish enough to try to get out. I thank you for your information, but you are too precious to be allowed to go free until this is finished. If you try to leave, my gargoyles will stop you. And there is not a single creature here who will save you. Remember, what lurks outside is far worse than what lurks within.”

He left, pulling the door behind him. The dark settled around her. Going to the bed, which she could only make out as a faint outline, she slumped down, and, despite her fears, exhaustion took her and she slept. Hoping she had done the right thing and chosen the right side.

 

Chapter Fifteen – Fin

Cursing loudly, he slid down the muddy bank, only just missing the trees as he went. He was muddy, covered in leaves, and beginning to think he should not have trusted Tara. She was altogether untrustworthy. Self-serving too. Oh yes, he knew she was only interested in furthering her own goals. All he hoped was that, this time at least, their goals were aligned. His only concern was Sybil, and from what Tara had said, Sybil was the only hope of saving the dragons. However, he knew there was more to it than that. He had seen the look on Sybil’s face. Whatever was in her prophecy, it was big. Really big.

A sound to his right made him stop. He flattened himself into the damp earth, hoping whatever foul creature was out here was not hunting him. Yet if he trusted Tara, he knew he must succeed with this. Still, he has to be careful. As far as he was concerned, the fates didn’t much care for visions and prophecy: If his time was up; his time was up.

Keeping very still, he looked to the west, waiting for the sun to rise. It was a long wait; the darkness seemed to linger longer here. The rest of Spellholm would be bathed in the full golden glow of the sun by now; but here, dawn was held back by some unknown curse. Then, when he thought the sun would never burst through, the houses ahead of him were bathed in light, the sun glinting off dirty windows, all boarded from behind. Light was the enemy in this town.

Stealing himself for what was to come, hoping he would find his dear sweet Sybil in one piece, and an alive piece at that, he made for the first house. Reaching it, he flattened himself along the wall, letting himself catch his breath and still his rapidly beating heart. If he couldn’t calm down, he was afraid that whatever lived, or lurked, here would feel his pulse though the very ground beneath his feet.

Looking around, he tried to make out the house Tara had told him to aim for. It had a tower, someone’s idea of making themselves appear to be more important in a small town. From there he had to make two more detours to reach the house Sybil was in. Moving away from the wall, he looked up over all the roofs, hoping he would be able to spot it. Going door to door in this neighbourhood would end up with him dead.

There. He took a deep breath and ran, hoping that there was nothing to see him, when he had made himself so exposed. But nothing moved, no solitary living creature, or dead. Reaching the tower, he stopped, got his bearings, and then went down a small alleyway, which had ambush written all over it.

To his surprise, there was no one waiting for him; in fact, he was sure there was not another living creature in the whole of Hollowton. He only hoped that wasn’t true. He wanted to find Sybil; he needed to find her alive. Tara had made it quite clear that if Sybil had been turned, there was nothing they could do to bring her back. He placed his hand on the short wooden stake tucked into his pants. His biggest dread was that he would have to use it on the woman he loved.

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