MacRieve (Immortals After Dark) (44 page)

FORTY-SIX

S
lave auction blocks, harems, chained sex servants . . .

Over the centuries, Will had pictured the Ubus Realm in a thousand sordid lights. As he followed the succubae through the portal, he braced himself, expecting to see all of his worst imaginings.

As with many planes, this was a hidden cubbyhole within the wider world, with the same temperature of the surrounding lands, the same time.

The same moon cycle.

Once they’d cleared the portal guardians—two stony-faced incubi whose feet hadn’t been touching the ground—Will snapped his fingers for Chloe. “Hand her to me.”

Gisela tucked a curl behind Chloe’s ear, then reluctantly returned her to Will’s arms. “My home is just there.” She pointed out a row of large hilltop homes on the other end of a shop-lined street. The architecture could’ve been found in any quaint Highland hamlet.

They started toward the hill. He didn’t want to take his eyes from Chloe, but he forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings, in case they needed to leave in a hurry.

The shops they passed were no different from those of any typical
European town, the street like so many main streets, only without cars or electric lights.

He scented species of all kinds, not just the Ubus peoples. He even smelled . . . another Lykae? A tart scent tickled his nose. Apples? What must be orchards of them. Why the hell would they grow food?

Just before the hill lay a grassy field. Will did a double take.

A lacrosse game was under way?

Lads about twelve years of age were playing an aggressive, no-holds-barred game. Will blinked when he spied more than one young succubus taking part as well. Parents were cheering from the sidelines.

Nieve noticed his bemusement. “What? Ubus can’t play sports? Humans didn’t corner the market on lacrosse.”

For the last nine centuries, if he’d thought about Ubus children, he’d imagined them in some dimly lit school training to ruin lives and prey on the unsuspecting. . . .

Fountains lined the edge of the field. Picnickers laughed. Bairns flew kites.

Goddamned
kites.

Nieve said, “We’re not much different from Lykae.”

“We’ve quite a big difference between our kinds. So why are those Ubus spreading out banquets of food?”

Nieve frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t they?”

Gisela said, “As with vampire young, our children eat food from the earth right up until they freeze into their immortality—females usually in their twenties, males in their thirties. Before then,
that
need is dormant.”

Just as Chloe’s had been.

Nieve was still frowning. Then her eyes went wide. Under her breath, she hissed, “He is
vile
, Mother. Who thinks like that?”

“Outsiders rarely understand our ways,” Gisela murmured back. “Just remember, he’s one of the
twins.
”

What did that mean? He shifted Chloe in his arms, drawing her closer to his chest.

Nieve shot over her shoulder, “I’ll bet you expected chained slaves and whip-carrying masters? Orgies on the street?”

Exactly
what he’d expected. Judging by the banners hung over the street, the next public gathering was . . . the Cider Fair.

He felt a trickle of embarrassment that flared into anger. This Nieve witch did not need to push him on this day. “How could I expect anything different? My encounters with your ilk informed my opinions!”

Gisela cast him an apologetic look. “Yes, well, any Ubus in your realm were most likely . . . exiles from ours. Or the offspring of them.”

“What?” He hadn’t heard her correctly.

“Centuries ago, if any of the nobility were convicted of an unconscionable offense, they were cast out.”

“Into
my
family’s lands?” Inhale, exhale.
Doona kill Chloe’s blood kin.

Nieve said, “There were not that many.”

“It only took one!” Picnickers turned to stare at him. Children looked up at him with owl eyes—and they looked no different from Lykae bairns.

He tightened his grip on his mate, gazing down at her.
Chloe, I’ve been so bluidy stupid.

“Let’s discuss this inside,” Gisela said.

He held his tongue as they climbed the hill to her house.

He crossed the threshold. The second succubus home he’d ever been in.

This was vastly dissimilar to Ruelle’s. Here were trappings of obvious wealth—crystal, a gilded chandelier, plush rugs, intricate woodworking. The colors were understated. It was, he was loath to admit, a home he could live in.

As he followed the two females up the stairs, medicinal scents grew stronger.

“Here’s my office.” Gisela ushered him into a room with a single bed, surrounded by shelves of vials and bottles that rivaled any olden apothecary’s shop. Incense burned, yet it wasn’t cloying.

Gisela indicated he should lay Chloe on the bed. Will took a seat
beside her, fighting back his beast and his own protectiveness to allow a succubus to examine Chloe.

“I’m going to draw her blood.” Gisela’s tools looked antiquated but clean. She pushed up Chloe’s bracelet, then made a small incision in her wrist, dripping blood onto a waiting dish. “I sense power in this bracelet. I need to know what it does.”

“It keeps her hidden from enemies.” He scrubbed his palm over the back of his neck.
Go on, then, Will.
“It keeps her from conceiving.”

Gisela nodded. “I believe that was a wise decision on her part. At least until she can figure out her new life.”

Hadn’t been Chloe’s decision. He’d foisted it on her.
Slaoightear.

Nieve crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll say. She’s probably keeping her options open. We don’t know for certain that you’re her fated male.”

“Fated,” he choked out. “You’re saying Ubus have . . . mates?” Wouldn’t that get in the way of their trolling for countless victims to violate?

Nieve gave him a look that said
duh.
“We’re as committed as mated Lykae. Most of those parents you saw at the field are incubus and succubus couples.”

“That’s no’ even possible.” If they were both energy sucks, they would need an outside source. “Two negatives doona make a positive.”

“Actually, that’s not quite true,” Gisela said. “If a succubus and incubus are fated, they become even stronger with their union. But then, all Ubus receive—and
give
—strength each time they join with their fated one.”

Had Will been stronger after taking Chloe? The first time, he’d gotten drunk. The second time, he’d been growling at sheep, feeling like an imbecile for hurting her.

His eyes darted. What if she was his—and he wasn’t hers?

Nieve said, “I know what I’m hoping for with my cousin.” In a lower voice, she asked her mother, “Can you imagine birthing a litter of Lykae?”

“You think I canna hear you?” he snapped, more angry at himself than at her. Being here, learning about these people wasn’t . . . comfortable. He felt like his prejudice was being dismantled—with a wrecking ball.

It called to mind a long-ago battle when he’d sustained a mace blow to his favorite breastplate, the dented metal gouging his skin throughout the melee. Afterward, he’d watched the smithy hammer and hammer it, pounding it back to its original shape.

Aye, Will had been twisted by Ruelle . . . but mayhap he
could
be wrought anew, one pounding blow at a time?

Mayhap I’m on the smithy’s anvil right now.

Once Gisela had collected a few drops of Chloe’s blood, she added a white powder to them. “Now we have to wait fifteen minutes for the test results.” She reached for the smallest of five sandglasses, then turned it upside down to start the counter.

“What do you think is wrong with her?”

The woman glanced away. “I hesitate to say. Let’s wait for the results.”

“Why have you no’ come for Chloe in years past?”

“We had no idea she existed until a succubus escaped from an Order prison just a few weeks ago. She returned here with word of Chloe and Webb. I believe you’re familiar with the Order.”

He cast her a cruel smirk. “I’m surprised any succubae from that prison lived to tell tales—since I beheaded five of them.”

Neither Gisela nor Nieve appeared upset by that. “Actually, a succubus named Dehlia escaped with a guard, one who’d been planted there to spy on the Order. Do you remember Calder Vincente? They’re wed now.”

Out of all the guards, Vincente had been the single one Will might’ve considered sparing. “Wait, why would you be talking to that succubus? Was she no’ an outcast? And for that matter, was no’ Chloe’s mother?”

“I said Ubus in your realm were
most likely
exiles from ours. There are also hunters tasked with executing those exiles. Dehlia was one. As was Fiore. My three brothers roam the outside world even now. Aside from me, our family is comprised of hunters.”

Confusion churned. He stroked Chloe’s forehead for calm. “So you’re telling me that her mam hunted evil succubae?”

“Yes. With much success.” Gisela was unmistakably proud of her late sister. “She was the best of them all, aggressive and unrelenting.”

So that’s where my mate gets it from.
“But why cast out criminals, only to dispatch hunters after them?”

“Ages ago, we had little concept of your world,” Gisela said. “We’re self-sustaining here, had no reason for a portal. Back then, our leaders believed the rift was solely to dispose of those who would harm others. But after the Murkian Wars—”

“Murkian?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, having a feeling he didn’t want to hear what was coming next.

“The creatures from the Woods of Murk grew in number, discovering our portal,” Nieve answered, sounding like she recited from a textbook. “Bent on seizing females and resources, they attacked, overrunning us. We fought them back with greater numbers, but we only had so many trained soldiers. Our foes were vicious, kept coming until we knew Ubus would fall.”

“And? What happened then?” he asked, still flummoxed that Ubus had not only guardians but hunters and soldiers. And hard-hitting lads and lasses who liked sports.

For some reason, Nieve pursed her lips, so Gisela answered, “We were saved by you and your brother, when you led forces to rid the Woods of Murk of evil.”

You’re bluidy kidding me.
“We aided you?”

“Our realm would have been lost. Once saved, we realized how unfair our exile system had been to your family and people. No one had any idea you’d been . . . personally affected.”

Will repeated, “We
aided
you?”

“You regret your actions?” Gisela queried in a stern tone. “If not for your assistance hundreds of years ago, Fiore would never have been born, much less sent out into the world to hunt. She would never have been imprisoned by Commander Webb, would never have given birth to your mate. Chloe wouldn’t exist.”

Will sank back, stunned to his core. Because he could take the chain of events back one more step. Will would never have suggested raiding the woods if he hadn’t been filled with rage—toward Ruelle.

That bitch had set fate in motion. Without her, there would be no Chloe.

Without his
torment
, there would be no Chloe.
Fate is our faith.

He recalled how her eyes had blazed when he’d told her about Ruelle. Chloe had been wracked with fever—yet in every line of her body, he’d seen her fierce need to fight.

For me,
he’d thought in bewilderment.
She wants to fight for me.
It had humbled him—and given him hope. Now he knew that everything was fated, he would suffer his torment again just to see that look from his mate.

How the hell had he ever associated Chloe’s expressive glowing eyes with Ruelle’s malicious gaze . . . ?

“What happened to Fiore?”

“She must have been forced to use her strew on Webb to try to escape, or because she was starving,” Gisela said. “We steer clear of mating with humans because of the inherent weaknesses of cambions.”

“What weaknesses?”

“A cambion can die from hunger.” As Will registered that with a new spike of alarm, Gisela added, “And yet she can’t strew.”

“This one can.” There’d been times when he was out of his mind with lust for Chloe. Yesterday, he’d roared to her, “I am fucking
ravening
for you!” while he’d thrust with all his might—as feral as the beast that had followed him.

Now he said, “You will no’ convince me differently.”

“Check her lips,” Nieve said. “There should be an opening there.” She held up her own upper lip, pointing out a slit within, just above the top edge.

Will checked Chloe’s. All smoothness.

And down came the hammer once more. He gave a crazed laugh. How many times had he abused her, then blamed her strew? He’d taken her virginity like a monster, then railed at how much control she had—over him. When he’d felt tenderness toward her, when he’d wanted to hold her . . . it hadn’t been strew.

No, he’d been falling in love with her. All on his own.

I love her. I love Chloe MacRieve.

Nieve said, “Without that ability, she is very vulnerable.”

His head whipped up. “You consider the fact that she canna rape to be a negative? A lack to be avoided at all costs?”

Gisela’s tone was indignant. “Understand me, wolf, the only time a decent Ubus would use strew is if she was starved. Ideally, we would use it only on whoever was starving us.”

“I doona understand.”

“Succubae are abducted and held captive more often than any other species. Don’t forget—Chloe’s own mother was a captive. If Chloe’s abducted from you and can’t attract nourishment, then she could die before you ever found her. Period.”

He swallowed. “How did Fiore die?”

“We learned from Vincente that she tried to escape with Chloe shortly after her birth. Webb caught her and killed her. He was going to kill Chloe as well, but her blood tests indicated she was human—”

“My dad was going to kill me?”
Chloe said weakly, just as the sandglass emptied.