Chapter 18

Willow awoke with a start, her cat ears twitching as she picked out a sound outside. Shouting. A woman screaming. And hundreds of trampling boots. What was going on?

Adam continued to breathe heavily from sleep, unable to hear the commotion outside with his dull human hearing. He looked peaceful in his sleep, and she was tempted to stretch lazily and curl up with him again. And she almost did, but the unexpected happened.

A swallow flew toward the building, the last pigments of dusk reflecting off its wings, startling her as it landed on the windowsill outside. It pecked against the window, its movements frantic. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

Hurriedly transforming into a vampire to allow her to speak, she threw open the window. “What’s happening?”

The swallow grew larger and larger until it became Oriel Covaci, his strong fingers easily hanging onto the window frame. Like his wings, his hair reflected the remaining orange and yellow clouds in the sky as dusk readied itself to turn to night.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head, though the expression in his eyes was frantic. “The crusaders… They have prisoners.”

She suddenly felt small, her heart thumping loudly. “Who?”

“Two witches and my sister, Laurel. They’re being marched into the town square. They’ll be burned within the hour.”

She swallowed hard, but she had already made her decision. There was no way she could sit idle knowing a vampire would burn at the stake. She had to stop this.

“Let’s go,” she replied earnestly and climbed to the window, but she only had one leg out before Adam leaped to his feet, surprisingly alert for having just woken. He reached for his sword, but he didn’t hold it threateningly toward her. He was protecting her from him. From Oriel.

“Who are you?” he growled, the iron blade glinting from the sunset blush shining through the window. Without answering, Oriel kicked away from the window, diving backward into the dusk, but before he hit the pavement, he sprouted wings and flew in the direction of the commotion. Torches burned angrily in the streets, getting ready for what was to come.

“I have to go,” she said, her eyes begging. “Please let me go. My people are in trouble. I can’t let them burn.”

He hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he would try to stop her. But there was something different in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Guilt, perhaps. And determination. He reached out as if to try and stop her, but then withdrew his hand while clenching his jaw.

“Why not?” he muttered almost sarcastically as he grabbed his armor and weapons, sheathing them at his back. “I’ve already buried myself deep enough in this hole.”

Although she didn’t understand what he meant, she didn’t stay long enough to ponder his words. She transformed into a cat and leaped out the window, using loose, uneven bricks to create a path downward.

As soon as her four paws hit the ground, she took off at a sprint toward the torches and angry townsfolk. She could still hear the screams, the pleading. But there was something else… A high-pitched whine, something few creatures could hear, and especially not humans. It was a cry of distress. A vampire.

Quick feet bounded behind her, and she turned her head to see Adam keeping pace easier than expected. She wove through back alleys, jumped over carts and awnings, and darted between human legs that had gathered in the square. The air reeked of ale and smoke, and she could feel the tension increase inside the town square.

To get a better view, she jumped onto a thin signpost. Fear heightened her senses, and she preferred to run from the mob rather than face it head-on. A couple hundred people filled the square, not including the soldiers dressed in metal armor. Three different stakes formed a tower, soldiers tying the prisoners to the stakes while what appeared to be the general spoke to the crowd.

She froze, her eyes widening as her gaze darted to the speaker. His voice sounded familiar. Deeper than she remembered. Yet eerily familiar.

Her heart almost stopped when she put the pieces together. Twenty years had passed since she had seen him, but she recognized the neat black hair. She recalled those piercing black eyes full of hatred and vengeance.

Dedric Dunmere.

She was so surprised that she nearly fell off the signpost, but she forced herself to remain calm. There was no way he had seen her, but she didn’t doubt he would recognize her, even as a cat. She had, after all, killed his parents when she lost self-control, raising him like her own son when her guilt nearly consumed her. He had been fifteen years old when he learned the truth, and he had sworn that the next time he ever saw her, he would kill her.

No, Dedric, she thought anxiously. Please don’t do this.

“Our time is now!” Dedric called to the crowd while raising his torch. “No longer will we be oppressed by these filthy beasts! We’ll take fate into our own hands!”

The crowd jeered angrily at the witches and vampire, but she couldn’t stop to listen. She had to put a stop to this.

Before she could act, Oriel shot down from the sky, screeching as he attacked the guards tying up Laurel. The guards cried as they tried to fight the swallow, but their swords slashed through empty air. In their haste, one of them dropped the torch in their hand, and the flames began licking their way toward the vampire. Laurel screeched in fear, a desperate sound to Willow’s ears.

The fear pooling inside her gave her strength. She reacted on instinct. Her body dissolved into a thousand small flakes of burning red ember and she shot toward the crowd. Humans screamed, and all hell broke loose in the square as people tried to flee from the fiery embers. The fire danced higher and higher until they reached for Laurel’s dress and she screamed louder.

With all her might, she slammed her semi-solid self into the soldiers, throwing them in all directions, even Dedric who lay sprawled on the ground in a heap of his own metal armor. Iron metal armor. She struck out again with fantastic speed and agility, hardly recognizable in this state. Her hair looked like ashen fire, her clothes smoldered like sunlight, and her strength was unmatched. She felt powerful.

The vampire screamed again, bringing her to her senses. She pulled back together into her vampire form directly on top of the kindling currently burning its way toward Laurel.

“P-p-please! H-h-help me!” the vampire begged as she coughed several times before the smoky fumes forced her unconscious, her body slumping forward against her bindings.

Using her sharp nails, she slashed the thick ropes binding Laurel to the stake, and suddenly Adam was there. He took the unconscious, but alive, vampire from her and ran off, away from the chaos.

She leaped down to solid ground but turned her head in the direction of Dedric, a pang in her heart. The general was staring right back at her. Seething. Murderous. He looked older than her now, but the age did nothing to soften the vengeance burning in his eyes. A shudder ran through her with the fear that someday he might make good on his threat. Eventually, he might kill her if her mate didn’t do it first.

She could hardly stomach the heartache smoldering inside her seeing Dedric like this. He had been like a son to her. She had raised him, but he had not become a good man. It broke her heart. A part of her felt like she deserved his hatred, but another part had thought that in spite of what she had done to his parents, he had loved her like a mother. Now she was not so sure.

Screams lifted into the air as the next two stakes were set alight and despite the immense fatigue she felt at her incredible feat, she turned back to help. She had to do something! She had to—

Adam appeared at her side, having handed Laurel off to the exhausted and dirtied Oriel, and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her back.

“It’s too late,” Adam said. “You will get yourself killed.”

“It can’t be! I need to do something!”

She tried to tug away from him, but she realized he was right. The witches were already burning, and the soldiers were on their guard. She stopped resisting and turned her face into his chest, not wanting to watch, but she couldn’t block the agonizing screams.

They didn’t deserve this. This was horrible. It was cruel. It was unjust.

“We need to leave,” he insisted, tugging on her hand. “Or they’ll come after you next.”

She nodded numbly and allowed him to pull her away from the chaos in the square. They quickly traveled deeper into the city, the luxurious, lavish buildings melting away into rundown slums. Buildings and torches passed in a blur, but she didn’t really see them. Every emotion she had ever felt crashed into her all at once, and she wasn’t sure how to make sense of them.

Finally, they stopped, taking a moment to catch their breath.

“Willow, I’m sorry…” he said, his words genuine.

“My kin are safe,” she said, standing a little straighter as she pushed Dedric’s expression from her mind. “That’s all that matters.”

He gazed back at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What in the blazing hills did you do back there?”

She pressed her lips together, as she was confused as well. “It’s called materialization, which is something older vampires can do. I didn’t think I would be able to do it for at least another fifty years. It appears I was wrong.”

“How far can one travel?” he asked, his confusion turning into excited curiosity. “How often can one do it? And when? What about the sun? Does it hinder a vampire’s ability to materialize?”

This was not a good time to answer such questions, especially as she had to remember who, exactly, she was dealing with. Even though he was her mate, he was a blood hunter as well. This kind of information in the wrong hands could be disastrous.

“In all honesty, I haven’t cared enough to study materializing. And I have lived among humans for a long time…”

Their conversation was cut short as Oriel exited the rundown house before them. He grasped her wrist and held her hand to his forehead in a show of gratitude. “You saved my sister. I can never thank you enough.”

She smiled wearily, squeezing Oriel’s wrist. He was a kind and gentlemanly vampire. But one word she would use to describe him was “tame.” It was then that she realized a union between them would never have worked. She was far too adventurous, too curious, too much in longing for the next big mystery. Now she understood why she had chosen Adam. He satisfied all of that and more. And it took having both Adam and Oriel before her to truly understand.

“I am glad Laurel is safe,” she said, and although she got a brief glimpse of his sister, they certainly looked alike. The same blonde hair. The same blue eyes. Despite being covered in soot, she could tell Laurel was beautiful, which was probably the unfortunate reason that got her caught in the first place.

Adam crossed his arms over his chest, his expression was formidable. “And you are?”

“Oriel,” he replied as he shook Adam’s hand, though suspicion surfaced in Oriel’s eyes. Adam winced slightly, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he shook a vampire’s hand or because the grip was tight. After all, Oriel was approximately two hundred and thirty years old, which meant he was strong. He turned his gaze to her, tilting his head toward Adam as he spoke. “And whose acquaintance do I have the pleasure of making?”

Being away from Ichor Knell for years, she nearly forgot the rules of vampire society. Oriel didn’t know Adam, which was why he was asking her to make an introduction.

“He’s my…” Willow trailed off, not able to finish her sentence. Not in front of Adam. He didn’t know she had chosen him as her mate. “This is Mr. Degore.”

Adam rose an eyebrow at her but otherwise said nothing about the introduction.

“Ah… A blood hunter traveling with Her Highness.” Oriel glanced at her and created a high-pitched concerned noise at the back of his throat as a way to communicate with her without Adam hearing. She replied with a hum of contentment, reassuring him that all was well.

Oriel relaxed. However, Adam seemed to notice their silent exchange, despite being unable to hear the noises they made. The pitch was too high for humans to hear. He scowled at the newcomer, but he made no move for his weapon, which she took as a good sign.

“Can I see Laurel?” she asked, and Oriel nodded, gesturing to the building he had come out of.

“After you, Your Highness.”