MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (29 page)

“Then let us go inside and hear what Broderick has to say.”

She nodded and reluctantly tore her gaze from the partial moon rising in the sky.

* * * * *

Cordelia paced the center of the stone circle, glancing at the full moon above. “Where are you?” she chanted, her frustration mounting. “Where are you?”

“I am as impatient as you are, my dear.”

Cordelia jumped at Malloren Rune’s voice and cursed under her breath.

“Again, you weren’t paying attention.” That mischievous light in her eyes, she winked at Cordelia and waved a hand, motioning her to follow.

“Is it finished?” Cordelia scampered after the prophetess, holding the satchel secure at her waist. “Did everything go as you said it would?”

“As we have been hoping, my child.” Malloren stopped several yards from the stone circle and raised the hatch door. They both descended the iron ladder and into the vast chambers below.

Her immortal eyes allowed a clear view of the narrow passages as she followed Malloren’s path into the center library chamber, the golden lamplight casting a halo around the Keeper of Secrets. Malloren padded down the steps to the center table and set the lantern beside the scattered scrolls. Cordelia sniffed the stale air and grinned. “I can still smell him.”

Malloren pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “You should not still fancy him. You know where his heart is and his role in the prophecy.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes heavenward and placed her satchel on the table before pulling a throne-like chair back to sit. “Of course. I like the way he smells, though.”

The corner of Malloren’s mouth twitched. “Well, I can hardly blame you there.”

Leaning forward and clasping her hands before her to contain her excitement, Cordelia pressed the prophetess for information. “I did exactly as you instructed. I delivered the package. Pray tell me what transpired.”

“You know exactly what transpired.” Malloren sat in the chair opposite Cordelia and tossed her long, black braid over her shoulder. “You saw Alistair deliver the box containing the relic of protection to Amice…even though I told you not to stay around.”

Cordelia clenched her hands together painfully, a monumental effort to control her embarrassment at being caught.

Malloren turned her palm up and flapped her fingers in a come-hither gesture. “Give me the shackles.”

Cordelia cursed and tossed the lamb-skin satchel to the prophetess. “How I ever thought I could keep anything from a seer is beyond me.”

Malloren pursed her lips. “Did you think you went on that little errand to retrieve this relic on your own?” The prophetess pulled the iron shackles from the bag and examined them.

Cordelia cursed again and sat back, pouting. “I should have known you were behind it.”

The corner of Malloren’s mouth turned up in amusement. “Cordelia, I know you too well and you know I have the gift of sight. Your curiosity gets the better of you sometimes. How else was I supposed to keep you from following that amulet all the way to Scotland? Besides, this errand was too important to have dabbled the way you did.”

“Which errand? The one to bring the amulet to Alistair? The one to get the shackles? Or the one to find the silver pieces?”

“All of them. You know the outcome of Broderick coming down here. We have saved him from killing Angus so the prophecy can still be fulfilled. These, my dear,” Malloren said, holding up the iron cuffs. “These will be needed to trap Broderick later and force his hand.”

“But when will—”

“Cordelia.” The prophetess sighed. “I seek just as many answers as you do. I only know what my visions have told me…and they are incomplete.” She put the shackles inside the lamb-skin bag. “Remember, you must keep these in the satchel or handle them with the lamb-skin gloves.”

“Yes, yes, I know. The lamb skin is the barrier against blessed items.”

Malloren shook her head, but rose and offered her hand. “Come. We must now fulfill the second milestone of the prophecy.”

Cordelia jumped to her feet and rushed to take Malloren’s offered hand. Grabbing the lantern, the prophetess pointed at the far door and led Cordelia up the opposite stairs.

She padded after Malloren through the corridor leading to her private chambers. “You still have not told me what the second milestone is.” Anticipation fluttered in Cordelia’s stomach and she tugged Malloren’s dark braid playfully.

Malloren pulled her hair away from Cordelia. “‘One of God’s chosen will become one of God’s cursed so that the prophecy may be preserved.’”

Cordelia stopped in stunned silence as Malloren continued down the corridor. “She’s going to become immortal,” Cordelia whispered. Picking up her skirts, the enthusiasm surged through her limbs and she dashed after Malloren. “I am going to transform you!”

Malloren stood at the hearth, placed the lantern on the mantle and faced Cordelia with a smile. “Yes, my dear.”

Cordelia rushed into Malloren’s arms and spun her around, the two of them laughing. “But wait!” She held the prophetess at arm’s length. “We cannot go before the Council. I have been banished. They’ll kill me if—”

“No, child.” Malloren ushered Cordelia to the chair by the hearth and sat in the adjacent seat. “The purpose of going before the Council is to ensure the one to be transformed is fully educated on their choice, so one is not made unwillingly. Nothing more. The Council started those lies about
sensing
whenever a rogue Vamsyrian is made to discourage anyone from doing so. I am a member of the
Tzava Ha’or,
so I am more than educated on the choice I am making. I am also more than willing to make such a choice. I must do this to fulfill the milestone of the prophecy and to continue to be the Keeper of Knowledge.”

She touched Cordelia’s cheek. “Remember, your grandmother prophesied I would be the last Prophetess of the Order. My womb is barren and you are the closest I will ever have to a daughter.” A tear slipped down her cheek and Cordelia knelt before Malloren, laying her head in her lap. “The visions have shown me that since the bloodline of Keepers ends with me, immortality is the answer to preserving the prophecy. Even though God has granted me a longer life than anyone in this history of the
Tzava Ha’or
, I am still mortal and I can feel my death before me. It is time. This is God’s will so that I might fulfill my destiny…and ensure yours.”

Cordelia stood, anxious to begin. “Did you see your last sunrise?”

Malloren nodded with a tender smile as she stood. “I did. This morning.”

The prophetess inhaled deeply and pulled her long, raven braid aside, baring her neck.

Epilogue

The sun sparkled across the waters in the port harbor of Leith,
Knightly’s Refuge
swaying gently under Cailin’s feet as she stood on the port side of its deck. A breeze lifted stray auburn locks from her cheeks and she smiled into the salty air.

“That be the last of it, Mistress Cailin.”

She turned to their first mate, Joseph, and nodded with a grin. “Thank you, Joe. I’ll tell James.”

Joe tipped his hat and descended into the belly of the vessel. A man of habit, he would be about his routine preparations in his cabin before they set sail on their third voyage. The merchant trips were short and fairly local and Cailin always reveled in the freedom surging through her spirit as the ship cut through the open waters. Holding her palms open, she performed
her
routine
, reciting the blessing incantation as she envisioned a bubble of protection around the entire ship—from bow to stern and from mast to belly. Satisfied her task was complete, she gripped the rail and enjoyed the view.

Mesmerized by the ocean beyond the marina, Cailin sighed when her husband’s body pressed against her back. His warm hands smoothed over her rounded belly and the familiar nuzzle at her neck sent shivers of anticipation down her arms.

“How is our boy doing?” he murmured against her skin.

She giggled. “Our
girl
is doing just fine.” She enjoyed this banter she had with her husband since they discovered she was with child four months or so ago. She honestly didn’t care if she had a boy or girl. It wouldn’t be their last and they had plenty of time to have a brood of male and female Knightlys.

James turned her in his arms and slanted his mouth over hers. He then planted a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose. “Are we ready?”

“Aye, Joe says everything is loaded.”

“Good.”

Cailin fingered the cross hanging around James’s neck and touched the one between her breasts. Both had been blessed with the incantation as well. Added protection and with them wherever they went.
Never again to live in fear.
“And the barrier is up on the ship.”

“Very good.”

A stout man with a light-brown beard and severe eyes stalked down the dock.

“That’s our final passenger,” James whispered and patted her bottom before he meandered to the opposite side of the deck. He waved to the man, who grunted in response. Occasionally,
Knightly’s Refuge
took paying passengers to local destinations. Many were friendly enough. Some liked to keep to themselves.

This may be one of those who likes to keep to himself
, Cailin pondered as the scowling man approached the ship.

“The last of your cargo is loaded, sir,” her husband greeted. “We’re ready to set sail.”

Another grunted response, the man stepped onto the gang plank and stopped. His frown deepened and he stepped back onto the dock, his eyes roaming over the length of the vessel.

Cailin stood at her husband’s side as the man assessed their boat. He took another step back and leveled a stare at James and Cailin. She gasped when a yellow light flashed in his eyes.
Did he just growl?

“I want my cargo off this ship immediately.”

James glanced at Cailin, his brow furrowed. “Is there something amiss, sir?”

The bearded man narrowed his eyes. “I’ll not travel with the likes of you,” he snarled. “Get my cargo off your ship…now.”

James shrugged and stepped to the cabin stairs. “Joseph, let’s get Paddy and Keith up here. Mr. Stellar wants his cargo unloaded.”

“He what?” the first mate bellowed from below. “But we just loaded it!”

James flashed Cailin a smile and skipped down the stairs into the ship. After some heated mumbling, Joe stalked up the stairs with a smirking James not far behind, Paddy and Keith in tow. Grumbling, the three men did as ordered, taking many opportunities to glare at their ex-passenger.

James grinned at Mr. Stellar, nodded and returned to Cailin’s side. She also smiled at the scowling man and snuggled beside James to enjoy the warmth of his arms.
Aye, never again to live in fear. And neither will our children.

The End

SNEAK PEAK AT BOOK 3:

MIDNIGHT HUNT

Chapter One

Outside the Village of Kostbar, Germany—1636

Eighty years ago today, he killed her…

Broderick clenched his teeth as he held the frail body of his beloved Davina to his chest. “Please.” He gashed his wrist with his fangs and offered his healing blood. She shook her head. His wound healed in moments.

“We have already discussed this.” Davina pushed his wrist from her face then coughed and curled in his lap like a fetus. She pressed the kerchief to her mouth as she labored through another long spell of hacking and wheezing.

The scent of her blood wafted up to his senses and he savored the sweet essence of his wife as tears stung his eyes. “I will not lose you. Please let me heal you, just this once more.” His plea would be useless.

Drawing shallow breaths and wiping the blood from her mouth, she gazed at him with sorrow in her eyes. “That is what you said the last two times. Darling, I cannot bear to live like this. You know the healing is only temporary. Your blood cannot purge this disease from my body and each time it returns worse.” His wife gasped and coughed, crying out through the agony of her condition.

“Let me transform you, Davina!” He clung to her tiny body, so thin from the sickness, willing with all his spirit she would listen this time. “Then you will be healed and we can spend eternity together.”

“And spend an eternity running from—” She gritted her teeth as a spasm wracked her body. “Running from the Vamsyrian Council. I want peace, my love.” She heaved breaths and relaxed in his arms. “I want peace.”

Broderick helped her lie back onto their bed and nestled under the covers beside her. She shivered in his arms. Her fingers feathered across his bare chest, trembling as she reached for his face. He grasped her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Though gray streaks had dulled her hair with age and the wrinkles on her beautiful face bore testimony to her sixty years, the light of her spirit shining from within had never diminished. But in these last two weeks, that light faded. Davina grew weary.