Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series (26 page)

Prior to Kat’s reappearance in his life, he
had been content to allow the power to lie fallow and remain
within. He could not rid himself of it and he did not need the
complications that knowledge of its existence would bring. The
Vampire, most especially his father, would either attempt to drive
it from him or drive him out. Alaric had ensured that his hatred
towards the Witch was ingrained in his most loyal followers.
Equally so, the Witch would have attempted to lay claim to him.

Although Lorcan had adored his Witch mother,
her actions had devastated him in his youth. He felt absolutely no
kinship to the remainder of the Witch breed. Many of their kind
were arrogant and condescending as they believed their creation and
purpose in the Realm elevated them above all others, human and
Vampire alike. Those that were more humble were often oddly
eccentric, having quirks and habits that made them not appealing as
companions, much less kin.

More importantly, the crux of the issue for
him was that he had chosen to align himself with his remaining
family and the Vampire breed. As his mate he had expected Kaitriana
to do the same. Lorcan rubbed his palm wearily across his brow
before giving a sidelong glance to his Elite, knowing full well
they were keeping a safe distance by remaining at the far end of
the room. He knew he was being unreasonable. His temper was out of
control and had been directed against those who had given him their
loyalty their entire immortal existence.

These men were also his family. He had come
to the conclusion this night that he needed to gain control of
himself. Kaitriana would return to him…eventually. Lorcan knew her
pull to him was every bit as strong as his to her. Unfortunately,
when it came to dealing with the witchling, patience was not his
strong suit.

He had yet to come to a complete decision on
how he would proceed with the issue of his magic. Lorcan had
concluded that he would speak to Kaitriana of his powers. He would
be certain she understood that the decision whether or not to
disclose that information to any other would remain with him.
Similarly, the decision of whether or not he would ever allow those
powers to rise would also be his alone.

Lorcan would not be pushed in this matter by
his female. No matter how wonderfully appealing she may be and no
matter what pleasure or displeasure she might have with his
decision, she would abide by him in this fully. Coming to that
conclusion internally and realizing that it would be impossible for
Kaitriana to remain apart from him for long, his mood had lightened
considerably.

Looking again at his Elite, he pushed from
his chair and strode towards the table. It was time to take his
place back with them. He understood the import that these five had
remained at his side. At all times and in all things, even this
week when he had been little more than an ill-tempered beast, their
presence had been unwavering.

Though the group maintained the appearance of
an easy demeanor at his approach, he did see a few uncertain
glances cast amongst them as he crossed the chamber. Setting his
tankard on the table, he dropped into his place at its head. His
expression remained schooled and calm; it took only a few moments
for the group to sense the release of his tension. They readily
resumed their debate about their skills, both on and off the
battlefield.

Lorcan laughed upon realizing the nefarious
course of their discussion. His finely skilled warriors were having
a disagreement over Kat’s friend, Lilly. Each of the five was
certain that
he
had the better chance with
getting the beauty to warm his bed. Entering into the banter, he
chided, “From what I have seen of the girl she barely spares any of
you a glance.” He knew his next words would cause outrage, “In
fact, she seems to be spending the majority of her time with
Jortha. I think the female favors witches.” His words had the
intended effect and the men were in an uproar; a good-natured
sparring of words ensued.

The five were competitive. It was one of the
reasons each had the tenacity to make it into this exclusive group
and fight directly at his side. He studied them, the group was so
diverse yet a strongly cohesive unit: Colm with his sandy good
looks and easy demeanor; Sayer, a near mirror image of Lorcan
though slightly leaner in build; Broderick, the black haired, black
eyed Ancient that tended to brood; Marcus also dark in hair,
confidently smug but always ready with laughter; and Lucas, unlike
his brother Marcus in both his reddish-brown hair and his
thoughtful and reserved manner. These five had been with him
through everything for centuries.

Jortha shoved through the solid doors
interrupting the line of his thoughts. The very subject of the
Elite’s conversation trailed shortly behind the witch. Lorcan was
finally in the right state of mind to take note of the fact that
the young witch no longer trembled in the presence of these warrior
vampire. He looked neither pale nor sickly. Lorcan was amazed that
in a few short days Kat had helped Jortha confront the fear and
aversion that had plagued him. That the male witch had actually
been working with Lilly the past week spoke volumes, as did his
lack of hesitation at entering this space.

Jortha stopped a few feet from the table,
announcing, “Sir, I have news.” All eyes at the table shot in
Jortha’s direction in anticipation and Lorcan unfolded his frame
slowly from his chair.

When Lorcan stepped before him, Jortha
continued, “I have finally felt her powers rising; she has shielded
herself well until now. The magic she is drawing forth this night
is too much to be hidden. It is of the same magnitude as the night
she first appeared.”

Alarm was readily visible on Lorcan’s
features, his question short and clipped, “Is she in danger?”

Jortha shook his head with uncertainty,
waiting for Lilly to come to his side before continuing, “I do not
sense any danger, but I have had no visions of her or her current
condition. I felt her power surge moments ago and I have only been
able to determine her location.”

Lorcan waved his hand at his Elite with the
simple instruction, “Prepare, and get twenty of our strongest along
with you. We will need to be ready to protect her if the Dark have
determined her location as well.” Turning back to Jortha as his men
headed toward the great hall to gather the required numbers, he
asked simply “Where is she?”

Jortha had been dreading that question and
the reluctance to voice the information was obvious in his tone,
“Kaitriana is at Laverock, Sir.”

The Elite stopped short of the door; each
gave Lorcan an assessing look. The slow clenching of his hands was
an indication of his immediate pique. He hissed the question
through gritted teeth, “You are certain?”

At Jortha’s nod, Lorcan spun towards the
door, waving his men forward ahead of him, “She had best hope the
Dark have found her and I am able to spend my anger taking a few
heads before I get to her.” Lorcan shook his head, disbelieving the
audacity of his witch. His impassioned words were more for himself
than any other, “She knows better.” He shadowed to his chambers to
prepare as his men filed out to do the same.

CHAPTER 25

Kaitriana’s pleasure radiated in her
expression as she took in the magnificence of Laverock. She had
spent three full days and a great amount of magic restoring the
rambling castle to its former splendor and was well-satisfied with
the results. Lights reflected warmly on the glass panes that now
filled the spaces where empty openings had once given entrance to
nature’s elements. In the front, the tumbling rock was fully
repaired and reinforced with both mortar and magic. The polish
given to the smooth stone that covered the exterior of the massive
structure gleamed in the moonlight. The furniture, tapestries,
floors and fancy chandeliers looked as they in the time of Brisen.
All had been restored but also improved with her magic to
incorporate modern conveniences.

An immense staircase rose from below to the
second floor and then wound on up to the third. She was meandering
down the stone steps as though she had no urgent matters pressing.
Focused on the majestic beauty surrounding her, Kat caressed a hand
lovingly over the balustrade at her side and continued her trek
downward in the direction of the main entry. The great hall was
over three times the size of the one at Lorcan’s Breslein estate.
She could hear the elevated voices below and as she took the last
turn of the steps she could see the large press of Witch gathered
within. It warmed her heart to have her people occupying this space
once more.

The thought of Lorcan and what she knew would
be his displeasure over the same errantly interjected itself at
that moment. Rather than allow it to interfere with her enjoyment,
she shrugged it off. She was unwilling to allow herself to feel the
guilt over deliberately defying him, more accurately – defying
Alaric – in this. Kat was firmly unwavering in her belief that his
family had relinquished the rights to this heirloom when Lorcan had
ended his association with the Witch.

Although it was her
responsibility
, according the Myrrdyn, to be the key
to Lorcan accepting his place in fulfilling the Prophecy, she did
not intend to yield to him on everything just to entice him into
assuming the role. She was the Chosen after all and had certain
duties to her kin. She would lend her support to him in most things
but not in this; his stance on Laverock was unreasonable.

Refocused, Kat instead dwelled on the sounds
of the voices. She had gathered all of the leaders of the Castes
and accompanying them were the best-skilled witches from each
group. The number of Witch in attendance was so great that the hall
was brimming over and the attendees were spilling out into the
inner bailey of the castle. All were ready for war and unified
under her to face the task that had been raised to them this
night.

Three nights into her self-imposed exile,
after she had completed the refurbishing of Laverock, Kat had
called the Caste leaders to her. Given that Myrrdyn had earlier
plead her case with the group, her entreaty to join her at the
castle was all that had been required to unite them in purpose.
Even Kendrick had been graciously accepting despite her earlier
smite on his character.

Together the leaders had developed the plans
for moving forward in the Realm, absent the anticipation of any
immediate unification or alliance with the Vampire. It was agreed
that the strength of Kaitriana’s magic coupled with the legions of
Caste warriors could overwhelm the forces of the Dark and allow the
Light to strike a major blow. This first battle in the renewed war
against the Dark was essential to their ultimate purpose and
turning the tide in favor of the Light. Tonight would be the
initial step to end the subjection of the Realm by the Dark.

She was dressed as a Witch Warrior, the black
leather of her pants stretched down to meet the rise of boots that
stopped just short of her knee. Her heels struck sharp taps against
the stones as she reached the landing…if a girl had to wear shoes,
they needed to be fabulous. Although the narrow spikes might seem
unconventional when considering their impending mission, the heels
were reinforced with her own magic and no small amount of metal,
making them rather handy weapons. She wore a snug and elaborately
designed corset, reinforced for protection with her magic. The
designs from each Caste were etched prominently on it in shimmering
blue that appeared almost liquid in form under the lights in the
hall. As always, it had been deliberate - Witch symbols, Lorcan’s
colors. The long strands of her hair were captured back from her
face by a filigreed, ice-blue metallic band that rested at the
hairline on her forehead and left the inky curls free to stream
down her back.

Kaitriana had designed her eyes with the same
blues - bold metallic paint done in the style of the Ancient Witch
Queens. The color was drawn so heavily as to appear a resplendent
mask, rising up to where it met the band on her forehead and over
to her temples. As was also common during days of the Queens, her
curls had been given intermittent treatments of the same colors,
dark blue and glittering icy streaks played through the black.

A belt of intricate metalwork played upon her
hips, holding the sheath for a sword designed with the symbol of
the Light on the hilt. The blade length was shortened to be most
effective in her grasp if she were to need its assistance to her
magic. She looked every bit a Witch Queen as she paused on the
landing before the final line of steps down to the great hall. A
hush took the crowd as they beheld the glorious image of their
Chosen.

Kendrick began to make his way across the
room towards her and she nodded to him in acknowledgement but
pointedly returned her attention to the crowd before he could reach
her side. Her smile was warm in greeting, her eyes grim in their
determination. She lifted her right hand skyward and blue light
danced in the palm, “Tonight, we war. The Dark will know once again
the power of the Light!”

The reaction by her fellow Witch was an
uproarious cheer. Weapons were thrust high alongside hands raised
and filled with either light or fire. Kaitriana’s smile wavered for
a brief second when she felt a telling shift in the air and the
sudden instinctive awareness of a presence. Reclaiming her poise
and swinging her eyes to the end of the hall, she lit immediately
upon Lorcan. His gaze shot black as it touched hers. She scanned
over the twenty-five warriors flanking him; Colm and the Elite had
the space immediate to Lorcan’s right hand. The expression of every
vampire mirrored the chilling animosity of their lord’s.