Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte (4 page)

Kirios shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand,
Saffron.”

Saffron sighed. “I was captured within the stronghold of the
Midnight Coven when I was spying. I was careless. Or maybe I
wasn’t. He was a Cassandrian after all. He knew I was there. He
told me to call him the Prophet. That he had seen me in his
visions. That I would play a part in bringing the war to an end…
700 years in the future.” She shook her head in amazement. All the
time she had been speaking Kirios’ heart had been racing. He
stumbled over to the bed and plunked down beside her, his eyes wide
with excitement. All these years and nothing. He had almost gone
crazy with frustration because nothing had pointed him in the right
direction. Finally, here was something.

“
Only the strongest of us live that long now, Kirios. He says
I am strong too.” She smiled a little shyly.

Kirios chuckled and stroked her cheek affectionately. “I’m not
surprised. You’re just a baby and already you’re one of the
greatest spies the Coven has.”

She blushed. “You really think so?”

He tut-tutted. “No more compliments for you until you tell me
what else he said.”

“
He told me about you. Nothing more… just where to find
you.”

“
Why didn’t you tell me this when we first met?”

“
I was afraid. I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

“
And now…”

She laughed. “Kirios, I brought you all the way to France with
false information in order to speak with you about
this.”

He snorted. So that was why things had been so quiet around
here; why they couldn’t find any signs of an imminent attack from
the Midnights.

“
Why did you not speak with me in Scotland?”

Saffron bit her lip and ducked her head, her long silver
blonde hair falling in front of her stunning face. “I wanted to be
on home ground for such a declaration.”

Kirios struggled not to laugh at her logic. “Of course. How
silly of me.”

She shrugged off his teasing and looked up at him with wide
pleading eyes. “Why did he tell me to find you, Kirios?”

He sighed heavily. “Because he once visited me
too.”

With that he told her all he could, about the Prophet, about
his visions, of what he thought Kirios’ help would do. And now
Saffron too,

“
So.” She frowned in thought. “What does that mean for
us?”

“
I think it means that you and I are stuck with one another
for a very long time.”

***

St. Petersburg, Russia, 1725

Kirios waited impatiently for Petrovsky, burrowing into his
fur coat. He wasn’t cold. He was never cold. But the city was
charged with apprehension. Peter, the Emperor of Russia, had died
the night before, and with no heir apparent a sense of foreboding
hung above St. Petersburg like an omen of what was to
come.

His ears perked up and he spun around at the sound of
approaching footsteps. Petrovsky.

“
Reuben,” he whispered, coming towards him. Kirios had caused
a lot of suspicion over the years, legends of a vampyre who
couldn’t be hurt by magik had begun to circulate. He had found it
necessary to change his name and stay out of the magiks’ way so the
legend could die. For some reason his instincts told him he should
remain a shadow until the time was right.

“
What took you?”

“
Anna’s father. He thought we should properly mourn the
emperor.”

Kirios frowned. “I forgot he’s quite involved in human
affairs.”

Petrovsky nodded. Theirs was a strange and unexpected
friendship. A few years back, when Kirios had been on a hunt in St.
Petersburg, he had come across this young Midnight trying to help a
Daylight. At first he couldn’t believe what he was seeing so… he
stalked him for a while. Petrovksy was of lower class descent
amongst the Midnights and seemed to go out of his way to find
Daylights; spending his nights searching the underworld of St.
Petersburg with the determination of a bloodhound. Finally, Kirios
actually concerned for the over eager young magik who was most
certainly going to be killed by the supernaturals who intrigued him
merely for being a Midnight, had enough and revealed himself to the
boy.

Petrovsky was fascinated by other supernaturals, had no
ill-feeling towards them whatsoever. And for some reason, Kirios
believed him. Petrovsky hated the mindless prejudice of the
Midnights who had never treated him well anyway, and like a young
soldier desperate to join the war, accepted Kirios’ command. After
all, a Midnight working for the Daylights was an unimaginable gift.
First Kirios had masked Petrovsky’s trace so that the Head of the
Midnight Coven would never know his true intentions, and then he
had set about making the boy wealthy. Kirios spread rumours that
Petrovksy had killed many Daylights and that, alongside the boy’s
quirky charm, made him a great favourite with the Head of the
Midnight Coven. Certain sacrifices had to be made in order to prove
himself. Petrovsky had to kill some Daylights but Kirios
compartmentalised that issue as a necessity of war, and was proven
right when Petrovsky was given a position on the Council. It was
not long after he married Anna, the daughter of a prominent
Midnight and a member of a very old, influential family within the
Coven.

“
I came here because you said you had urgent news,” Kirios
snapped.

“
I am sorry. I could not get away.”

“
Fine. What is the problem, Alex?”

Alex grinned. “Anna. She is with child.”

The vampyre’s heart picked up speed. Yes. This was it. This
would help change everything.

“
Then we must work out a plan.”

The young man smiled cheekily. “I thought that was what you
would say. You want to teach him, don’t you?”

Kirios nodded. “We have to. Your children must know the truth
of this war, Alex.”

Petrovsky suddenly grew very serious. “Of course, Reuben. No
child of mine will be contaminated with Midnight
insanity.”

***

New Jersey, U.S.A 1950s

“
Holy!- ”Kirios yelped, his glass of blood going everywhere as
he jumped. His gang of Rogue Vampyre Hunters were all out and about
in New York, prowling the night for its varied predators. He was
taking a moment for sustenance when a familiar magik had popped up
before him, inches in fact from his face.

The Prophet smiled sheepishly and took a few steps back.
“Sorry, I’ve never quite got the hang of a communication
spell.”

Kirios shook his head. “What… how?”

The Prophet looked like a sixty year old man now but his
bright blue eyes convinced Kirios that the magik in front of him
was definitely the seer he hadn’t seen in almost two thousand
years.

“
Still as articulate as ever, Kirios. Or is it Reuben
now?”

He nodded shakily. Not many things could unsettle him but the
sudden appearance of this guy definitely did. “What are you doing
here?”

The Prophet tapped his head. “Had a few more visions I thought
you might be interested in hearing about.”

Excitement immediately rushed through every cell in Kirios’
body. “Seriously? No joke… things are finally going to happen?
Jeez, I almost gave up hope-”

“
I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

He scowled at the Cassandrian. “Fine, what’s going
on?”

The magik raised an eyebrow at him before settling himself
onto Kirios’ sofa. “Nice place you have here.”

The vampyre itched to hit the words out of the magik’s mouth
but he tried to remember this was the guy who had saved his
life.

After a few minutes of awkward silence the seer finally
smiled. “OK. Here’s what’s going on. I’ve seen this girl. A
Midnight. The daughter of a Council member to be more precise. She
is, shall we say, against the war. Her name is Atia.”

“
What has she got to do with anything?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“
Is she… the mother of the child?”

“
Don’t know.”

And just like that he was gone.

Kirios stared open-mouthed at the empty space on the
sofa.

“
Fucking fortune-tellers.”

***

Some fifty-odd years later

He watched the girl as she stared up at the moon from her
bedroom window, her pale hair like a beacon drawing him in. Kirios
sighed. He had found her. At last. After seeing the evidence at the
house in the woods of her powers, of what she had done to her uncle
Ethan, Kirios knew that Caia Ribeiro was what he had been waiting
for. All these years. All the mistakes.

When the Prophet had come to him about Atia he had followed
her, watching her for any sign of what was to come. She was
beautiful and powerful. Petrovsky told him she stayed clear of the
war, suggesting she was, as the Prophet had said, against it. But
her beauty was enough to entice the Head of the Coven, Devlyn, to
ask for her hand in marriage. Her family wouldn’t let her say no.
Kirios had known at that moment; had seen his chance; she was going
to be the mother of the child from the prophecy. So he had revealed
himself to her, and along with Petrovsky’s help, explained all they
had planned. Through her they received information direct from
Devlyn himself, and he never knew because Kirios masked her trace.
Atia helped willingly. She despised Devlyn.

For a number of years life went on that way, and during them
she mothered two children to Devlyn, playing her role as mother and
wife and her other role as spy for the Daylights. Kirios on the
other hand was growing despondent. He had no idea how to proceed.
Atia was supposed to mother a half-breed child. And there had been
no sign of that eventuality so far.

Then one momentous day Saffron had come to him and told him
about her mistress, Marion, and the affair she had had recently
with a member of a small lykan pack. Saffron felt sure there was
something about this pack, something important, and since her
instincts had always run true, Kirios had listened attentively. She
told Kirios of their Alpha, Mikhail, how special, how strong he
was. He had an aura. At her description Kirios had smirked; if it
had been three-hundred years before Kirios would have put it down
to the fact that Saffron was susceptible to a handsome face, but
she had been gravely hurt by a warlock since then and was a little
frosty to almost every man she encountered. So Kirios had believed
her and had set about planning a meeting between Atia and Mikhail.
He knew what he had to ask of them was cold and clinical and
completely degrading. But if it would bring an end to the
war?

Sighing in remembrance, Kirios leaned against a tree, his eyes
still glued to the girl up in her room. Perhaps it was his fault.
He had pushed Atia into the decision, settling her anxiety by
utilising mesmerism. He had never done that to one of his own
before. With Saffron’s help, Kirios managed to convince them both
to sleep with one another. But after a few years of arranged
meetings between them no child was ever born. Kirios’ frustration
was the least of their problems. Devlyn was not as naïve as Kirios
would have liked. He was a jealous husband and had been tracking
Atia’s movements through faeries, despite no sign of duplicity in
her trace. By the time Kirios got wind of the information and
warned Atia and Mikhail… it was too late. Mikhail, without giving
the details, warned his pack, Pack Errante, but Atia panicked. She
killed Mikhail, assuming that Devlyn would have mercy on her. He
slaughtered her anyway.

His eyes glazed over with the memories. So much loss. And all
for nothing.

Or so he had thought.

When it felt as if it was time to give up and give in, Saffron
came to him with the news that one of the members of Pack Errante
had arrived home with a magik he believed to be a member of the
Daylight Coven. Saffron knew in fact that the girl was Atia and
Devlyn’s daughter, Adriana; that she was there to infiltrate the
pack under her father’s orders. His instincts told him to let
Adriana’s seduction play out, ordering Saffron to keep
quiet.

Kirios smiled softly and raised his eyes back up to the
window.

Caia was born.

A feeling of overwhelming anticipation rushed through him. He
had done everything to protect her, masking her trace when Adriana
hunted her, making sure Saffron kept a close eye, to make sure that
Marion was protecting Caia. For a while his attention had been
diverted by Devlyn and his growing tyranny; his unbelievable
madness, his camps for behavioural modification for magiks, his
desperation to have them under his complete control. Nikolai, the
present son of the Petrovsky family, had grown so concerned that
Kirios had masked his trace and sent Nikolai in to Kill Devlyn. The
Midnights had no clue as to who had done it, supposedly a member of
Daylight of course.

And now Caia was the Head of the Coven! He had laughed when he
and Nikolai realised the truth. But the laughter hadn’t lasted
long. Devlyn’s irritating brat of a son had tried to continue his
father’s work and was a little too pre-occupied with finding Caia
and destroying her. His distance from the Coven had allowed Nikolai
to solidify an important, authoritative position within the Coven,
but Kirios had worried over Ethan’s ever increasing obsession with
his niece. Not that he need have worried, he thought smugly,
watching her, remembering all that… mess… he’d found a few days ago
in Ethan’s lodge. Now Nikolai was Regent of the Midnights and
halting attacks against the Daylights under the guise that Ethan’s
disappearance had weakened the Coven. Not to mention he said he was
close to completing the Septum.