Captiva Master - Vampire Warewolf Menage Six Feet Under Series Book 4) (20 page)

Dakota froze when she spotted winged men, black angels, in the Florida room, their heads bent over the glass and rattan table where her mother often served Sunday brunch.

One growled in the deepest voice she’d ever heard, “Why did she have to run like that?”

“You should have coerced her long before this,” the other said, shaking his head. “I think you were entranced by her beauty.”

He shrugged. “Let’s get some Species blood, shoot her up, and send her to the Donor Housing anyway. Maybe she’ll mend on the way or thereafter.”

“I don’t like this…just fix her and send her shit. Hell, I don’t like any of this, of what I do to these families everyday.”

“Yeah, well, the last Lovec who bucked the system is still hanging from Prince Volos’ keep by his wings, starving, and his sentence started three centuries ago.” “Oh, thank you for that reminder,” his comrade snapped. “Not that I don’t pass his writhing body every time I fly out of the Dynasty’s miasma.”

“Her heartbeat is sluggish.”

“We could leave her and make an anonymous call for a human ambulance to assist her.”

“All I can do, at this point, is take her to the monarchy. She won’t survive in human hands, not with this severe of injury.”

As they moved to the side, Dakota saw the beautiful form of her mother stretched across the table like Sleepy Beauty, though was she truly sleeping? No, she didn’t think she was. “What did you do to Mama?”

The dark angels lifted their heads, their strange eyes depicting yellow pupils on black irises. Surely, they were from hell instead. God’s angels couldn’t look like this, couldn’t hurt Mama this way. She shrunk away, moving back towards the kitchen. One stayed with her mother while the other moved astonishingly fast, approaching her with its long teeth bared like an animal.

Dakota willed her legs to run, and when she made it outside, she aimed for the park. The monster was behind her before she stepped off the driveway, leaping into the air, raising its wings and lifting her high into an aged oak tree. When it reached a thick limb, it stopped abruptly and settled her there. After it tightened its wings behind its back, it said, “What is your name Donor Youngling?”

“I don’t tell strangers my name.” She stared down at the ground, wondering how she would get away from someone who had wings. “What did you do to Mamma?”

“Apparently, it’s your birthday.” He stared at the sky, taking his creepy eyes off her. “How old are you.”

“I don’t tell strangers how old I am.” A pulsation hit the back of her neck when his voice echoed inside her head, repeating the same question. “I am ten today,” she forced out through clenched jaws, her salty tears dripping into her mouth. For her benefit, she added, “The worst day of my life. What did you do to Mamma?”

“I have a ten year old Fledgling at home, she has long blond hair, same as you.” He reached out to touch her hair, but Dakota flinched away, almost toppling herself from the branch. She wondered if he would have caught her or allowed her to fall, where her body would become as lifeless as her mother’s was.

“Well, whether you believe this or not, this will be a better birthday for you than my comrade would desire. I will leave you here with your father, instead of taking you to our special housing.”

“My Mamma,” she pleaded, the tears blurring her vision.

“I’ll do what I can for her, although she can’t stay here. The good part is,” he whispered, reaching to touch her forehead, “you won’t remember a thing about this day, and if you’re lucky, we might not find you again after you grow up.”

Maestru released his bite from Oycher, the big male looking around in a momentary daze as Maestru held his body weight. “Did I take too much blood?”

“No, I think it was that spell you broke.” He rubbed his head, snapping out of it and staring at Dakota. “I’m so sorry for your pain.”

Adam turned her face away from the flowers. She blinked her tear-filled eyes and whispered hoarsely, “To think, I kept saying I didn’t want to be in your world, Maestru. Apparently, I was already there long before I met you.” Her lashes fluttered a few times, and then she drifted to sleep.

Maestru asked Adam, “Did you?”

“Yes,” he shook his head, “I sensed her exhaustion. Tell me what you saw.” Maestru repeated everything, from the spells to the Lovci absconding with Dakota’s mother on her tenth birthday. “I don’t know the workings of the Dynasty Empire, so do you think her mother’s alive?”

“If she is,” Maestru stopped, exchanging glances with Oycher. “We can never speak of this again.” To Adam, he said, “Perhaps you should coerce her to take your vein while she sleeps. In the meantime, I have a date with the morgue.”

“A vampire’s dream.” Adam laughed without humor.

“Not mine,” said Maestru. “Do you want to feed before I go?”

“No, I have plenty for her.”

Maestru followed Oycher out. “Then, I’ll hunt again and feed you two, when we meet later.”

He took one last look at his beguiling Dakota as Adam coerced her to feed, wishing he could give her the time she deserved. Unfortunately, Scotland’s issues had reached Florida, specifically the Fort Myers area. In addition, he had to make a formal complaint against the Lovci for seeking out his Contessa, who, thankfully, was a Donor no longer. He eased his phone out of his pocket and went to his contact list, locating Prince Volos’ personal line, which was used only for emergencies. Dakota was his top emergency, everything else came second, and he was determined Volos clearly understood his position.

When they entered the corridor, leaving Randall with a newly placed vampire soldier, Oycher asked, “When the time comes, I’ll end Randall’s life. That way, if Dakota ever finds out what truly happened, she can blame me.”

“A noble gesture, Vojak, but I will decline,” said Maestru clearly, putting the phone to his ear. “Randall is family, so he will die by my hands.”

The afternoon sun had long disappeared, sending most morgue workers home while leaving only a skeletal crew. Silently, Maestru and Oycher glided down the main corridor, coercing the few remaining employees into ignoring them. The scent of putrid and rapid decay grew stronger by the second. Most humans associated the smell of formaldehyde and accompanying chemicals with death; however, vampires could easily scent the distinct undertones of each corpse beneath the myriad of chemicals. Turning left, he entered a narrower hallway denoting the undercurrents of the rising Undead. This particular hall held a crimson luminosity no human eyes could detect, the afterglow of immortal magic from a Dynasty Vampyr. Problem was – Maestru had seen this thread of magic centuries ago, and nothing good ever came from it or the Vampyr who wielded the spells. Shocked didn’t begin to describe what he was feeling, but he’d learned long ago to move through inner agony, and that’s what he was doing now.

Oycher was by his side, his face twisted in a now familiar scowl. “I swear, My Master, the smell is getting stronger,” he said irritably. “I was here merely an hour ago. How could so much have changed?”

Bane appeared from the shadows. “Because they’re awakening. I don’t know what to do about their families waiting to bury them and such, but we have to do something. Fast.”

Oycher said, “Our helicopters are now landing on the roof, setting up for a quick rotation for transporting the bodies. Still, I don’t know how we’re going to hide this sort of paper trail. I mean – we're taking out every cadaver from this place. Humans aren’t that stupid. Additionally, I can't figure out why Dakota’s father and a few others on his floor have been bitten."

Technically, a human or immortal needed to be dead, or very close to it, to be transformed into
Undead
. Dakota’s father had been in a coma, but nothing close to dead. “Let me see what we’re working with, and then we’ll figure out a way to burn the paper trail.”

A fissure of electricity went through the room when Maestru stepped inside, the cool, stale air coating his tongue with horrid familiarity. “It has to be Bordis, but how?”

“Tesolos’ brother?” Bane asked, pulling a sheet from the face of an awakening female. “I thought you killed Bordis when he, well, never mind.”

Very few knew Bordis killed Aleena. Apparently, Ciaran or Gage had a big mouth. “Why, Beta, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to spare my feelings.”

Bane rolled his eyes, uncovering the next body, a boy who couldn’t be older than eighteen. Same bite, same ashen pallor, same possible outcome as the one before him. “Just because I don’t send you Christmas cards, Coven Master, doesn’t mean I’m entirely callous. When I almost lost Renee” – he looked away – “well, Ciaran told me Aleena was pregnant at the time Bordis killed her.”

“Seriously,” Maestru hissed, slamming his hands on the gurney, jostling the corpse, “I don’t do chick chats with werewolves. Ever. I know there’s a point to your drivel, Beta, so make it.”

“You’re actually sniffing out
Bordis
on this, and I’m connecting the dots.” Bane crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “Low talk says something nasty went on inside the Dynasty Empire. That particular nasty involved Bordis’ body, so how’s he doing this when he’s supposed to be dead? Killed by you centuries ago, I might add.”

The look on Oycher’s face was murderous, though he remained silent, deferring to his Master. The thing was, Bane knew there was a connection, and the Coven and the Pack were working together. However, if Volos found out Maestru confirmed or denied any Dynasty Empire intel, Maestru was as good as dead. Normally, he wouldn’t care so much, since he’d lived a long and lonely life, but now he had Dakota and Adam. He scrubbed his face, thinking hard, and then decided to put his head on the chopping block anyway. “In Weremiasma, Tesolos showed up with his Vojaks to fight alongside Ciaran,
supposedly
letting his shit slip the minute things got too rough.”

Bane shrugged, “Ciaran was outnumbered. Teslos didn’t exactly have to stick around, and it’s not like he’s known for any common decency whatsoever.”

“You are too smart to think it’s that simple,” Maestru continued as he walked away from the body, glancing at the next. “I don’t want to play tonight, Beta. I’m so sick of countering your move with mine.” He waved his hands around the morgue. “This is dangerous, like a cat-five hurricane edging the coast.”

“I know,” Bane said. “Vampires don’t appreciate losing the main source of their food supply.”

Or maybe it was dangerous for the humans because Maestru sincerely didn’t want them to die, but what was the point in convincing Bane that he, the sole vampire who started the Vojaks for the purpose of protecting humans as well as vampires, actually had a heart, which wasn’t black every day - just on occasions. Instead of defending himself, Maestru said, “I’m certain that Teslos only took off when he found out I was coming to assist Ciaran.”

Oycher nodded. “Your theory?”

“It’s not a theory,” Maestru explained. “I’m known to have the uncanny ability to break connections Undead have with their Makers. Of course, what we faced in Scotland was so intricately woven, I had to pull from an ancient spell I’d long forgotten. After the Undead dropped, and I could get a good sense of their Maker. He was familiar, though it wasn’t Teslos, but what I
now
realize is Bordis, which is the same power I felt when entering this room.”

“This is what I feared.” Oycher’s eyes darkened pensively. “An Undead cannot make another Undead. Bordis has been alive this whole time, for centuries.”

Bane clenched his fists at his sides. “Coven Master, we heard you burned down Bordis’ entire Scottish estate with immortal fire, while his family was
still in it
.”

“His family for mine, yes I did and I would do it a million times over. Sneaky bastard,” Maestru said more to himself than to Bane and Oycher. He wanted away from the death, and misted back to Randall’s floor, finding a quiet corner near the elevator to rematerialize. When Bane and Oycher misted in next to him, he continued in hushed tones, “I was certain I’d killed him. Wonder whose body was buried instead of Bordis’ and then subsequently removed from the Dynasty crypt?” In a fit of rage over his family, his Aleena, and his unborn child dying by Bordis’ hands, Maestru took out Bordis’ entire family in compensate. However, nothing would truly have compensated for Maestru’s agony in loss. Still, Bordis didn’t deserve to live when his family had died so senselessly and violently.

Bane prodded quietly, “Ciaran won’t say why Bordis killed your family.”

Maestru focused on a flickering computer screen, thinking back. “Bordis wanted my Bride, my Aleena.”
Oycher explained to Bane, “Bordis is a Dynasty Vampyr, he could
choose
his Bride.”

Bane whispered, “And he thought to choose yours?”

Maestru nodded. “He thought to take her, the same way he wanted this Coven, when the thirteen colonies were settled. Aleena and I were moving abroad, and Bordis wanted her enough that he offered to share.” This was one of the reasons Maestru hadn’t killed Adam, but invited him into his family. History would not repeat itself. “I refused and went on with my plans for Aleena and I to take on this new Coven. When the time had come to see us off, my entire family stood proud at Weremiasma, still astonished I’d made Coven Master for the New World over Bordis, an older and presumably higher skilled Vampyr. Aleena was beaming, giddy, the way females get.” God, he could still see her there, resplendent under a rare sunny day, glowing with her pregnancy. “Bordis showed up…pleading unabashedly in front of the gathering, and she spurned him, declaring her love for me and our unborn.” He hung his head. “Bordis masked his emotions so well, acting as though he were giving up and wishing us his best. I allowed her to hug him goodbye, just for the sake of a long lost friendship, knowing they would never see one another again. The next thing I knew, Bordis had Aleena’s heart in his hands, burning it with immortal fire. I refused to allow Aleena to die alone, so I didn’t chase after him.” Thinking he could make her Undead, but she rejected that life. “I…went into my Species form, only tuned into my dying Bride, feeling her go limp in my arms. I only tore my face away from her, when two glowing souls left the earth.” The baby’s had been as beautiful as Aleena’s was, and Maestru remembered thinking it may have been a girl. He swallowed roughly, fisting his hands, blinded by the past. “I have no idea how long I…I held her there, in the pool of her blood.” He faced Bane; grateful the Beta hadn’t given him a look of pity. Maestru hated pity more than anything. “When I had become somewhat coherent, I saw that Bordis had set fire to my entire family, even my five year old sister, in the most vile fit of rage I had, at the time, ever encountered. They were beyond saving, even in Undead terms. Therefore, I matched Bordis’ rage, flame for flame, and I went after his family, vengeance with a bang, even casting miasma so they couldn’t escape my fire. They were begging for their lives, even the children, but I didn’t care. I just fucking didn’t care, and I
watched them die
until they were nothing more than ash.” When Bane said nothing, Maestru locked eyes onto him. “When I had lifted my hands, raising my miasma, I had felt absolutely
nothing
when their ashes scattered into the wind.”