MIDNIGHT HUNT: Book 3 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (27 page)

He didn’t need to say anything. She nodded. Summoning the flames from the embers still glowing at Marcus’s stake, she raised a burning hand toward the priest. “Move and I’ll incinerate you.”

Broderick erected a barrier around them, then withdrew the one from Angus.

Angus pounced anyway, crashing against the invisible wall until he was panting. He snarled and stood before Broderick, who crossed his arms and remained stoic. “This isn’t over.”

Broderick nodded. “Don’t tell me you’ve fed from so many
Tzava Ha’or
members
you’ve
adopting their annoying habit of stating the obvious.” He cocked his eyebrow.

Angus snorted and turned away to stalk across the courtyard. Then he stopped. He knelt, picked up his blood-red cloak and leered over his shoulder. He waltzed into the small chapel-like building and emerged with a journal. “Watch your back, brother. You’ll find me there.”

Monika gasped as Angus dashed from the courtyard so quickly, the monastery gate slammed against the brick wall and clattered down the corridor, a cloud of dust and debris whooshing by in his wake.

Broderick dropped the barrier and Monika released the flames.

“You just damned every Vamsyrian who ever hopes to find redemption,” Father Meier reprimanded.

His arms still crossed, Broderick glared at Wilhelm. “Have a little
faith
, Father. Isn’t that your job?”

The priest opened his mouth, his cheeks mottled pink, then he smirked. “I stand corrected. You are quite right, MacDougal. I need to have a little faith that the prophecy will unfold as it should.”

Broderick’s eyebrows rose almost into his hairline. “I’m impressed, Father.”

Monika hitched her breath at the glowing, yellow eyes coming down the corridor of the monastery entrance. She treaded cautious steps forward until the werewolf stepped into the torchlight. The brown and gray-speckled coat caused her to sigh with relief. She trotted across the courtyard, but her father retreated into the shadows. “Papa, please.” Her bottom lip trembled and she stilled it between her teeth.

His hulking figure eased back into the light, but he held up his large, clawed hand.

She nodded and remained where she was. “Marcus. Is he dead?”

Symon nodded.

“You know we have the cure now, don’t you?”

Symon nodded and his eyes glassed with tears.

She sobbed into her hand.

“Monika?” The hiss of shuffling feet echoed through the corridor.

“Oma!”

Mina scuffled into the light and patted Symon’s hairy arm as she passed.

Monika threw her arms around her grandmother. “Thank the Gods you’re safe.”

“Helmut and Edda took me to your father and we came back as soon as we could.” She pinched Monika’s cheek and grinned. “I’m proud of you, Sprite. Come. Let’s get you home.”

Broderick cleared his throat and strolled to Monika’s side. “That would be with me, now.”

Symon growled.

Broderick bowed. “I’m afraid I’ve compromised your daughter and wish to wed her immediately.”

Symon stomped toward Broderick, and Monika stepped into his path. “Papa!” She glared over her shoulder at her impulsive Vamsyrian. “You couldn’t wait for a more appropriate time to do this?”

Symon huffed and his ears flattened against his head. Broderick stood his ground, hands clenched at his sides. Monika rolled her eyes heavenward.

Mina cackled and swatted Symon’s arm several times as she coaxed him to back down. “I will deal with your father.” She narrowed her eyes at Broderick. “You take good care of her.”

“With my very life,” he vowed and hugged Monika to his side.

A snarl rolled from Symon’s throat and he whirled away from them, plodding after Mina’s shuffling figure, and the two of them disappeared down the corridor, exiting the monastery.

“MacDougal.”

Monika spun around as Father Wilhelm approached.

“Your ship was detained and your crew was arrested.” He handed Broderick a rolled piece of parchment. “This should release your ship. I’ll release your men. They’re in the dungeon below.”

Broderick stiffened. “Have they been harmed?”

“Not as far as I know. They were only arrested because they refused to let the deacons remove you from your ship, but I will be sure they’re taken care of.”

Rick’s shoulders dropped a margin and he nodded. “Thank you.”

Monika waved at the empty courtyard and chaos left behind. “What happens now? We’ve all been convicted and several witnesses can testify—”

“Leave that to me and the
Tzava Ha’or
,” Wilhelm said. “We have ways of dealing with such matters.”

Broderick frowned. “Is the Prophetess going to clean this up by trying to wipe the memory of at least three dozen villagers?”

Father Meier chuckled. “No, that won’t be very effective in this situation. Before you ask, let us just say it’s best you don’t know.”

Broderick pursed his lips in disapproval and shook his head. “Damned Army of Light.”

“The two of you had better get going and I wouldn’t recommend staying in Kostbar more than a fortnight. The residents of that village were favorable toward you, but the people in Vollstadt could possibly cause problems. There’s only so much the
Tzava Ha’or
can do to repair an incident like this.” He shook both of their hands, wishing them well and headed toward the doorway leading to the cells below ground.

“Leave Kostbar?” Monika’s throat tightened. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” she whispered.

Broderick pulled her into his arms and possessed her mouth with his.

She melted against him under the sensuous seduction of his lips and tongue and sighed. “If you continue to ravish me like that, I’ll go wherever you want me to.”

He chuckled. “How about Scotland?”

Still dreamy from his kiss, she nodded.

“Then let’s make haste. Dawn approaches.” He swept her off the ground, cradling her in his arms, and whispered in her ear, “Hold tight.”

Monika gasped and squeezed her arms around Broderick’s neck as he dashed from the monastery at the speed of immortality to his ship, taking her breath away.

* * * * *

Broderick cupped his hands around Monika’s smiling, heart-shaped face, her skin hot against his palms and the fragrance of her blood oh-so sweet. Sapphire eyes sparkling with warmth and desire, she inclined her head to meet his lips as he slanted his mouth over hers. Honey greeted his tongue. Hot, eager kisses from his Blossom. His mind swirled and his loins stirred.

Mina repeatedly slapped Broderick’s shoulder with the handful of daisies she clutched and a mischievous breeze swirled around the vine archway and altar. “No, no, no! You’re supposed to wait until I pronounce thee bonded in love,” she complained.

Forcing himself to pull his lips from his wife, he glared at Monika’s grandmother—today, High Priestess overseeing their handfasting. “You tarried too long.”

She cackled. “I now pronounce thee—”

Broderick resumed kissing Monika, muffling her giggles.

“Oh, bother! Bonded in love!”

The small crowd, gathered in the torch-lit platz of Kostbar Village, laughed, hooped and hollered, throwing petals and rushing to the newly-united couple, showering them with congratulations and well-wishes.

Monika righted the wreath of flowers in her hair several times, as each hug nudged it from the crown of her head. Long ribbons cascaded down her back, mingling with her chocolate tresses. Broderick’s irritation grew as each handshake forced him to greet the person offering congratulations—and forcing him to take his eyes away from Monika’s lush curves in her flowing blue robes.

“Beer, sausages and kraut in the kitchen house!” Edda declared, and rousing cheers rose from the villagers. The group milled, laughed and conversed as they started their way down the path to the communal eating house.

“And we brought Scotch!” Andrew shouted. Paddy, Gilbert and Rob raised the casks over their heads.

Another swell of merry cries erupted. Broderick threw his head back and laughed. He took two steps toward his wife, then paused and whirled around. At the far end of the courtyard, Malloren Rune stood with her hands clasped before her, a soft smile touching her lips. He was surprised at her rugged, masculine attire of leather breeches, boots and vest, a long dark cloak hanging from her slender shoulders.

He searched for Monika. She waved from the throng of friends pulling her toward the celebration. He waved back and gestured with a raised index finger that he’d be with her momentarily. Her gaze shifted to Malloren Rune, then back to him and she nodded.

Crossing his arms, he strolled toward the prophetess.

“And thus is the third sign,” she began as he approached. “The book of the Chosen One holds redemption for those innocently cursed, but it is the Protector who will bring peace to his enemy by shedding his blood.”

Broderick nodded. “She and her mother discovered the cure for the werewolf curse, but Vamsyrian blood is the final ingredient. Since those afflicted are bitten, I would wager they are the ‘innocently cursed’ you speak of. Her father was a werewolf. That’s why she was seeking the cure. And I assume Monika, or rather Davina, is the Chosen One and I am the Protector?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I see all has turned out well.”

“Aye.” After everything he and Monika had been through, after discovering the origin of her soul, he could deny the validity of the prophetess no more. He rocked on his heels and contemplated his boots. “You were right and I’m very glad you were. Thank you.”

Malloren nodded.

“She doesn’t have a full recollection of her life as Davina, but her soul remembers our love.”

“I’m not sure she will ever regain all her memories of her prior lives.” The prophetess stared a Broderick for a long moment before speaking. “I also saw in my visions, you and Angus embracing. He did not return the affection and he walked away.”

Broderick clenched his jaw. “Angus was told I convinced our father to abandon him as a babe. His entire idea of revenge has been based on a lie. He still wants to harbor his hatred and I can understand why. Letting go would mean he murdered his own brothers instead of righting a wrong. If we’re ever to reconcile, as the prophecy says, he’ll need to come to terms with that, and I don’t know that he ever will.”

“Only time will tell. Where is he now?”

“I don’t know, but the
Tzava Ha’or
had better guard against him. He was an Inquisitor of the Church.”

Malloren laughed as if Broderick had just shared a pleasant joke. When he didn’t join her, she sobered. “Whatever for?”

“I think it was to create a cloak, which made him immune to the incantation. It smelled of blood and I think he used the blood of
Tzava Ha’or
members to create it. He mentioned learning how to taint their blood so he could feed from them.”

“Did he say how?”

Broderick shook his head. “But he had the scars on his mouth to prove he learned their blessed blood would harm him. He has been eliminating the
Tzava Ha’or
, one by one, having them burned as heretics.”

“Surely not!”

He cocked his eyebrow. “I’m surprised you haven’t received visions informing you of this infiltration of the Church. If he’s fed from as many of the Army of Light members as I think he has, he knows the inner workings of your organization very well. He might be trying to do worse than just make a cloak.”

She paled. “I will inform the leaders of the
Tzava Ha’or
at once. Thank you.”

Broderick frowned and closed his eyes to recall Angus’s exact words. “He said to me, ‘There are a lot of things I know about the
Tzava Ha’or
and so I know that none of this business about the prophecy matters. We are pawns. Malloren and Cordelia have been playing both of us for fools. We are merely their puppets in this quest for redemption.’” He opened his eyes and Malloren’s posture had stiffened, her chin out defensively. “What does he mean when he says the prophecy doesn’t matter? Why don’t you tell me what Cordelia’s part is in all this? What is Cordelia to you?”

Malloren sighed and strolled to the bench at the well. Broderick followed and she sat. “I had a vision almost two-hundred years ago that Cordelia would be the catalyst of the first sign. We didn’t know how that would manifest and I had actually thought I had misunderstood my vision or that we had failed after thirty years had gone by without learning the sign. But then I was given the vision of the first sign and that Evangeline would be the one to see it fulfilled.” She gazed at him, as if she had finished her explanation.

“You still didn’t answer my questions. What is Cordelia to you? And why does the prophecy mean nothing?”

“I honestly don’t know what Angus means by saying the prophecy doesn’t matter.”

“And Cordelia?” Broderick leveled his gaze. “I’m not letting you dodge my question.”

Malloren pursed her lips. “She is a custodian of the prophecy. She and I are working together to gather the scrolls and document the progress.”