Wild Hearts (Blood & Judgment #1) (33 page)

Draven turns and hoists himself onto the altar. He sits on it and crosses his legs. He holds out his hands to either side of him with his palms upturned and closes his eyes. After a few moments, blue flames suddenly erupt on both his palms.

“Holy shit,” I gasp in surprise.

His eyes snap open and he tells us, “This is the precise spot.”

“Sacred ground,” Ember says.

“A cathedral?” Cahl asks. “How is this sacred for
our
purpose? This is a place of worship for those who practice Catholicism.”

“That wasn’t always the case,” Draven says. “It’s the site of a great battle that took place centuries ago. A dark warlock and his followers called hundreds forth from the dead. Reanimated their corpses, intending to command them as his army to overrun humanity.”

“Like zombies?” Ember asks, with a grimace of disgust.

“In essence,” Draven answers. He eyes Ember and me in turn. “My Coven led the charge against him, along with a group of vampires and werewolves. It is the first recorded instance of all three species joining together for a mutual cause.” Sadness clouds his features as he draws in a deep breath and then tells us, “The ground is consecrated. It is holy. Many members of my Coven and our vampire and werewolf allies lost their lives—sacrificed themselves for the greater good. A hero’s death.”

“That makes it sacred ground,” I realize aloud.

“Precisely,” Draven confirms.

He makes his hands into fists, snuffing out the blue fire on them. And then he jumps down from the altar. He points to it and it floats away into the left corner of the room, leaving a large space in its wake.

He holds his hand out to Ember. “Salt, my sweet vampire?”

She reaches into the right pocket of her fancy burgundy, wool coat and pulls out a jar.

“Thanks,” Draven says as he takes it from her.

He twists off the lid and starts spreading it in a large circle. As he completes it, he steps back and a silver shimmer travels through the entire circle.

“Whoa,” I exclaim.

“The salt is enchanted,” Cahl tells me, smiling with amusement at my awed reaction.

Unlike him and Draven, I haven’t been around magic much in my life. Most of this is all new to me. So, yeah, every little thing fascinates me, while to the two of them, it’s just par for the course. Ember isn’t magical either, but she rarely shows much of a reaction to it. She just takes everything in her stride. I guess, living as long as she has, not much can really surprise her. That goes for all of them. Again, I’m the only exception. Unlike them, I’m only in my mid-twenties, not hundreds of years old.

“All right. Into the circle, ladies,” Draven says, stepping in himself. He settles himself into a sitting position and crosses his legs.

“Seriously?” Ember grumbles. “We have to sit on the floor?” She pulls at her black boot cut pants. “Do you have any idea how expensive these are?”

“Yes, seeing as though
I
bought them,” Draven responds.

“I said I would reimburse you,” she snaps, clearly irritated. “They don’t do well with dust and whatever the hell else is all over this floor.”

“You want me to conjure you a cushion, or something?”

“Don’t patronize me,” she huffs, stepping into the circle. She mutters to herself the whole time as she settles herself beside Draven on his left side. He just rolls his eyes.

“Roll your eyes at me again and I will rip them out with the heel of my boot,” she says to him sweetly.

It’s all I can do to hold back a laugh at the banter between them and Draven’s shocked look. “I’d pay attention to that if I were you,” I say, with a smile.

Cahl lets go of my hand and gives me a slight push. “Good luck, princess.”

I hesitate and he leans in and kisses my hair chastely, whispering, “It will be fine. Over before you know it.”

“Right. Yeah.”

I step into the circle and sit down on Draven’s other side.

“See? Aria didn’t complain,” Draven tells Ember with a slight smirk.

Ember looks me over, turning her nose up at my outfit. Jeans, a low-cut white tank top that really makes my boobs pop, and a black well-worn leather jacket.

“She is not in the same predicament as me.”

“You mean my clothes are shit to you.”

“Actually—” she says, giving me a patronizing smile.

“Save it,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?” she drawls, heavy on the sarcasm.

I shrug. “We all know you’re a snob. It’s just par for the course. Whatever. We all have our issues, right?”

I see her about to bite back at my ‘snob’ comment, but Draven quickly grabs her wrist. Her gaze snaps to his as he tells her, “It’s unimportant, my sweet vampire. I love that you care so much about your appearance.”

“Just like you,” she says with a sweet smile that makes me want to hurl.

He smiles and kisses her hand, before letting it go. He shifts his weight and holds out his hands—one to me and one to Ember.

As we both take one of his hands, he tells us, “You do not need to take part in the incantation. All you do need to do is accept the energy that you will feel at the climax of the spell.
That
is us joining. Your instinctual reaction will be to resist it. Do not. You must relax and allow it. That is your part. Simple, right? Oh, and no talking. No distractions. I need full concentration. Any questions?”

“How long will it take?” I ask.

“I’m estimating ten minutes.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Ember?” he asks.

Her eyes narrow as she snaps at him, “Will you die
before
you finish the spell, or is that reserved for after, like some sort of side effect? And also, when the hell were you planning on telling me? When I’m talking to
your
ghost in the dungeon of your fucking mansion?”

Oh fuck.

Draven looks absolutely shocked by her sudden and unexpected outburst. “How do you know?”

“I
see
things, remember?”

“Your visions don’t always come to pass exactly as you see them.”

“Will this?” she challenges.

“I don’t know, Ember. That’s the God’s honest truth.”

“I can’t lose you, Draven,”
she whispers.

“We
must
perform the spell. If we do not, we won’t be able to defeat the Jurisdiction. All supernatural hybrids like us—vampires, witches, warlocks, wolves—will be overrun by them. We’re facing extinction here. My life to prevent that is a small price to pay.”

“Not to me.”

He blows out a breath. “It’s a long shot that it’ll come to my death, Ember. With all major spells, it’s a possibility. That’s the gamble of wielding great power. Just follow the instructions I gave you both, don’t interrupt me and everything should be fine.”

She leans in and whispers something in his ear. A bittersweet smile plays on his face. She kisses him and then pulls back.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Thank you,” he tells her.

She nods.

Wow. Okay. I guess that argument’s over then. Ember may be concerned about Draven, but she knows how important it is that we do this spell. She’s able to rise above her personal feelings to see it through. After all, she was the one who basically united the three of us. She sought me out and then we sought out Draven. It’s been her life’s mission to do this. And now, here we finally are, just seconds away from doing what we were born to do.

I’m eager to get this done, too. I need the power it’ll give me, so I can save the wolves being held captive by the Jurisdiction in the Realm
and
I need to save Cahl. I haven’t told Ember or Draven of my plans to claim the throne in the Realm. Now isn’t the time. Everyone is so tense right now. Throwing
that
into the mix will just exacerbate all that. Also, I’m not sure they’ll be on board with it. Our destiny is to destroy the Jurisdiction, not to take control of the Realm. I know they’ll want to destroy it, along with the enemy. But I can’t let that happen. Cahl will remain mortal if his world is destroyed and I’m not letting him go. Ever.

“Aria!” Draven snaps at me.

I blink out of my thoughts. Oops, I guess I was spacing out there. “Yeah?”

“Concentrate. And close your eyes. I’m starting the ritual now.”

“Right. Sorry,” I say, squaring my shoulders and drawing in a deep, calming breath. Magic makes me nervous. I close my eyes.

The second I do, I hear Draven murmuring the incantation in a foreign language that I don’t understand. Maybe Latin? Who knows?

Moments pass where it’s just him murmuring.

And then a sudden spark hits me, like a static shock. It has me grimacing and I hear Ember grunt.

It disappears, only to be replaced by an onslaught of them all of a sudden. My entire body feels like it’s on fire. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does. The pain is excruciating and I grit my teeth against it and fight to keep myself from reacting on instinct to break the circle and stop it.

“Fuck,” Ember mutters, squeezing my hand tightly.

I’m squeezing too and so is Draven.

“Seconded,” I choke out.

A sudden thud from the cathedral entrance startles my eyes open. Blue magic is swirling around our circle and a bright, golden light is threaded through our joined hands.

Heavy, rushed footsteps have me jerking my head in the direction of the entrance.

Holy shit.

There are half a dozen Ambassador soldiers storming in.

“Stay back!” Cahl commands, stepping into their path, between them and us.

All six of them brandish their swords.

Cahl doesn’t have his. He can’t wield it anymore, since he defected from the Jurisdiction.

Oh my God!

“Commander, you will suffer for your betrayal,” one of the soldiers threatens.

Cahl raises his palms and black fire sparks to life on them. “Take another step and you will know what true suffering is.”

The soldiers chance a step closer.

As they do, a thunderous crash rips through the cathedral and shrouded figures come barreling in through the stained glass windows. At least twenty of them. I catch sight of their contorted features. Vampires.

One of them spins to face our circle. He pulls back his hood.

Edric.

Ember’s father.

She senses him instantly, her eyes snapping open. She turns her head, towards him.

“Father,” she gasps.

He turns away from her as the Ambassador soldiers advance on Cahl. He bellows at his men, “Do not let them interrupt the ritual!”

His vampire army hurriedly forms a wall. They all raise their hands and fire. A shimmering white wall forms between them, Cahl and the Ambassadors. They must be Edric’s mages.

What the hell? They’re helping Cahl and the three of us?

The Ambassadors fire their own black magic at the wall, trying to break through the barrier. Judging by the way that each one of the mages takes a step back, it won’t take long. Shit.

Edric walks over to our circle.

He’s stopped a few feet out by Cahl stepping into his path, his magic at the ready, protecting us.

“As soon as the ritual is complete, Ember will come with me. She will be our strongest resource.”

“That is not her destiny,” Cahl tells him.

“She is my daughter. Her destiny is what I deem it to be, Ambassador scum.”

“To you, she is nothing but a weapon to wield.”

Edric smirks. “Indeed.”

“I’ll kill you,” Ember seethes.

She screams a moment later and so do I as the magic coursing through us flares up, causing an unbearable level of painful intensity.

Fucking
hell!

“Stop them!” an Ambassador bellows.

The wall the mages had been holding the Ambassadors at bay with disintegrates. The Ambassadors rush the mages, cutting many of them down with their swords in the process. They begin firing their magic wildly. A bolt of magic strikes the ground just a few inches from where we’re sitting. Cahl fires bolt after bolt, trying to drive them back. But there are too many of them.

Draven finally opens his eyes. I guess he was unable to block out all the chaos around him any longer.

“Need…to…speed this up.”

“What?” Ember cries. “No, Draven! It’ll take even more power.”

“No…choice.”

The unbearable pain intensifies even further then. I stop fighting it, remembering that Draven instructed us to accept it. It’s a huge challenge, given how agonizing it is.

I feel Draven’s grip loosen considerably.

Ember must too, because she looks over at him as I do.

He looks incredibly pale. His eyes are glazed over and unfocused. But, worst of all, blood is trickling from his nose.