Blood Awakening (38 page)

What he could not give Shelby in life, he would
give him in death.

Marquis could not go back and place himself in those
fateful moments: when Valentine took Dalia, when he brutally raped Shelby’s
destiny
and denied the fledgling a son. He could not go back and save his brother’s
life, but he was here now.

And this was no longer about an ancient sacrifice,
an infant soul already lost, or a baby who would surely grow up to kill him if
given the chance. It was about a male from the house of Jadon who had been
wrongly accused and murdered: a sibling he had vowed—and failed—to protect.

The Blood had murdered Shelby Silivasi, and it was
not
innocent.

Marquis closed his eyes in resignation: He could
feel his body being torn apart, his skin peeling back from the bone. Consumed
in the delirium of his pain, he heard his brothers shouting words he could no
longer understand. He was what he was, and he had been wrong to believe that he
could ever stand in this place, see where Shelby had died, and dishonor him to
save his own life. Not even for Nikolai. Not even for Ciopori. He held onto the
knowledge that his brothers would raise his son as if he was their own. They
would take care of his princess.

And then all at once a strange sense of peace overtook
him, and the pain slowly abated.

Had he died...so quickly?

Despite the promise of torture, his heart felt elevated,
and his insurmountable grief began to lift. Perhaps it was absolution. Perhaps
he was finally to be given the forgiveness he so desperately needed—not that of
a bunch of twisted, dead females, for a crime committed centuries before him,
but that of one pure soul whom he had failed.

Marquis sighed, almost afraid to hope. “Can you
forgive me now, Shelby?” His words were broken and pitiable. A white light
surrounded him, and his clarity returned in rapid waves. Everything in the room
fell into sudden, sharp focus.

The doors to the back of the chamber flew open,
and Ciopori rushed in carrying Nikolai in her arms. Her face was gaunt with
pain and tears, and the grief-stricken eyes of his brothers reflected the same
agony…yet he felt no urgency. There was only peace.

And then he felt it: a firm, warm hand gripping
his shoulder.

He slowly turned his head in the direction of the touch,
only to find a radiant male standing before him. His mouth dropped open and his
lips trembled, but no words escaped.

Shelby.

Flawless, luminescent features shone with pride
and grace beneath a wealth of blond curls, and deep green eyes, the same shade
of Nachari’s, glowed with compassion. There could be no question, Marquis had
to be dead. But when he looked around the room, he saw the same look of awe on
the faces of the others. Even the king looked stunned.

“Brother.” Marquis tested his voice, and it worked
fine for a throat that had been so viciously cut.

Shelby smiled, and his radiance lit up the room like
the noon-day sun. “Greetings, my eldest and most honored brother.” He knelt beside
the shaken warrior and grasped him by the shoulders.

The Blood roared in defiance and lunged at the
ghostly visitor, but the mystical outline of a dragon suddenly appeared, blocking
its path.

Marquis gasped. “
Lord
Draco
!”
He
blinked several times, gaping at the silhouette of the blazing celestial
dragon—
the sacred god of his constellation.

The dragon spoke through a ring of fire, and the
very foundation beneath them shifted to the cadence of its words. “Marquis is
from my line, and as such, he is under my protection while we sort this out!” The
fire became as liquid gold before transforming once again to ether and settling
over Marquis’s body. His peeled skin slid back in place; his broken bones fused
together; his twisted organs healed, and the blood spurting from his ravaged
arteries simply ceased to flow.

“You have no right!” the Blood hissed.

The dragon spun around and squared off with the ghostly
entity, eyes the color of the sun glowing in its skull. “I have every right! By
the laws that govern the afterlife, the Valley of Spirit and Light has
jurisdiction over the Valley of Death and Shadows. And by our law, a blameless
soul, one who has lived a life of innocence, may be called upon in prayer to
intercede on behalf of another. Should any such prayer be accompanied by a gift
of ultimate sacrifice—the willingness of one being to lay down his life for
another—then the gods may hear his petition.” Draco’s eyes shot across the room
and landed on Nachari. “The wizard prayed to his twin for the life of their
brother, even as Marquis resigned to give his life for the same. Shelby has
interceded on the wizard’s behalf, and the gods have granted him audience.” He
gestured toward the altar where the battered child still lay, mercifully
unconscious. “You will still have your sacrifice—or your vengeance—but not
before this Blessed One has his say.”

The Blood howled its rage. It screeched and
released its fangs. Its gnarled, ghostly hands curled into fists.

Draco stood to his full height then. His tail slashed
back and forth through the air, sharp-edged scales glowing with the threat of
retribution. He laughed a menacing snarl. “Do not test me. You may be powerful,
but I am a god. You will not win.”

Enraged, the entity retreated.

Marquis looked up into his baby brother’s face,
ashamed. “Shelby,” he uttered, “I am so sorry.
I am so, so sorry
.”

Shelby’s grip tightened on Marquis’s shoulders, and
his eyes held him in an unyielding stare. “It was not your fault, brother.” He
looked up and one by one met Nathaniel’s, Nachari’s, and Kagen’s eyes. “It was
nobody’s fault.”

The brothers drew nearer, tears falling without
reservation.

As if he could no longer restrain himself, Shelby
stood, turned around, and embraced Nachari. “Brother,” he whispered, his voice
trembling with emotion, “
flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, heart of my
heart
;
twin of my soul,
I have heard your prayers—today and every
day. You must forgive yourself for not being here...for not saying good-bye.”

Nachari wept into his brother’s shoulder, clinging
to him like his life depended upon it. The two shared an intimate exchange of
words, using a private bandwidth, and then Shelby stepped back and removed an
amulet from his neck. “Take this,” he implored. “I will not be able to walk
with you anymore—not until you come home to the Valley of Spirit and Light—but
you can call me with this amulet, and wherever I am, I will hear you. And whenever
I can, I will answer you.
You are the twin of my soul; death will not keep
us apart
.”

Nachari clutched the amulet, slid it around his
neck, and pulled his brother back into his arms. When they finally let go,
Shelby placed his hand over Nachari’s heart, and a soft yellow light entered. “My
peace is yours, brother. Live for both of us.”

He then turned to face Nathaniel, but the Master
Warrior’s emotions were too intense to appease—his anger too great, his pain
too raw. Shelby held out his arms, and Nathaniel stepped back, moving away from
the brother he so adored.

“It’s okay,” Shelby whispered.

Nathaniel shook his head. His grief and regret—his
apology
—was so powerful that it leapt between them. “No.” Nathaniel
continued to shake his head.

“I have seen your wife and your son,” Shelby said
softly, holding Nathaniel’s tortured gaze. “They are beautiful! And you named my
nephew after Father: Keitaro Storm Silivasi. I am pleased for you.”

Nathaniel put his head in his hands. “No!”

Shelby took a tentative step forward. “I forgive
you—although there’s nothing to forgive.”

“
NO
.” Nathaniel slumped down onto his knees,
and Shelby followed in one fluid motion.

“
Nathaniel
…brother…” 

When Shelby wrapped his arms around the proud Master
Warrior, Marquis held his breath. Like everyone else in the room, he was
overwhelmed by the intensity of Nathaniel’s anguish. The male’s heart-wrenching
sobs racked his powerful chest in endless waves of sorrow, and it seemed like
an eternity before Shelby whispered in Nathaniel’s ear and, once again, placed
his hand over a troubled heart, imparting peace.

And then he stood and turned to Kagen. “Dr.
Jekyll,” he teased, “my brother, the healer.” His broad smile sent waves of
warmth into the ancient’s heart as the two slowly approached each other and met
in a warm embrace.

Kagen stroked Shelby’s hair like he was holding a
child, gripping him like he was the most precious thing on earth. “By the gods,
I have missed you, Shelby.” Kagen’s voice caught. “I wanted to follow you into
the next life.”

Shelby nodded, his deep green eyes sparkling with
kindness. “I know, Kagen, I know. But you’re far too important; your gift is
needed here. Brother, I will wait for you in the Valley of Spirit and Light,
and we will be together again one day—but not now. It is not yet time for you. Live
in peace, brother. For me…live in peace.”

Kagen held on until Shelby finally, gently, pried
him away, and then he simply stared at him as if he were memorizing every line
and detail of his face. “I love you, Shelby.”

Shelby smiled, perfectly content. “And I, you,
brother.”

And then he turned back to Marquis.

He approached the Ancient Master Warrior slowly,
calmly kneeling down on the floor. “Marquis...” His voice held the cadence and
purity of a song. “I knew if any would try to follow me, it would be you. If
any would stop living, it would be you. If any would lose his way, it would be
you. And then I watched as events unfolded—the vengeance you and Nachari took
on Valentine.” He lifted his head and regarded Nachari, holding out his hand to
give his twin a well-deserved fist pound. “Thank you, my brother; that was
righteous justice if ever I saw any.” And then he once again turned to Marquis.
“But it did not ease your suffering.”

Marquis just stared at him, unable to answer.

“I watched as you found the females.” He gestured
toward Ciopori. “Greetings sister.”

 “G…g...greetings,” Ciopori stuttered.

“May I see my new nephew?”

Ciopori came forward and knelt before Shelby, her
hands trembling. She brushed a quick kiss along Marquis’s temple as she showed
Shelby the baby.

“Whoa, Marquis,” Shelby muttered appreciatively. “I
think Nachari might finally have a contender.”

Marquis wished he could answer, but his guilt
simply would not allow him the reprieve.  

“He is absolute…perfection,” Shelby said, bending
over to kiss the child on the forehead.

Marquis felt his eyes gloss over with tears, and
then Shelby grabbed him firmly by the lapels of his shirt. “You absolutely
cannot die here today, my brother! Do you hear me?
I forbid it
.”

Marquis grumbled, finally shaken out of his stupor.
“I have no wish to die, Shelby, but I cannot dishonor you with those words.”

To Marquis’s amazement, Shelby laughed. “What is
past is past. You cannot bring me back by dying with me. You cannot change the
Curse by defying it. You cannot honor me by leaving our brothers, your nephew,
your mate, and your son to suffer without you.” Shelby lifted his hands from
Marquis’s lapel to brace him by his jaw, not caring that it was a tender act
rarely displayed between males. “Do you think that I question your dedication
for a moment? That I don’t know you would die for me? That you would kill for
me? That you would sacrifice anything—everything—
your very life
for
me
?” He swept his hand around the room. “For any of us?” He shook his head.
“Marquis, you have been a teacher, a father, a stronghold in times of trouble,
and a wise counselor since the day I was born. You have always been my refuge,
my
pride,
and my honor. Do you understand?”

Marquis swallowed hard and held Shelby’s gaze,
even as hot, searing tears trickled down his face.

“But it is your turn to live now. Your turn to
love. Your turn to receive.” He gazed at Ciopori. “For the love of the gods, do
you not see what they have given you?” He touched Nikolai on the head. “Would
you deprive this child of all you gave to me?”

Marquis looked down at his son.

Shelby took him by the arms and shook him gently. “Brother,
if you do this thing—if you die here today—then
you
will kill me all
over again. What Valentine did is not your fault, and his soul pays dearly
every day in the Valley of Death and Shadows. I came here, and I bowed before
that altar and spoke those words because I understood that there is a debt to
be paid—whether or not we see it as fair—and because I knew the love of my
life, Dalia, would soon meet me in the afterlife once she had completed her own
lessons. We are free now, and we are together. And eternity is far too long to
give up your soul.” Shelby sat back on his heels and sighed. “Marquis…
brother
…if
I asked you to, would you kill for me?”

Marquis was momentarily confused. “Of course.”

“If I asked the gods to allow us to change places,
would you exchange your life for mine? Would you truly die for me?”

“I will—”

“Then be of greater courage and give me the last
thing I will ever ask of you:
Live for me
. Marquis, I am begging you.
Live
for me
, my beloved brother.
Live pentru mine
!”

Marquis placed his hands over Shelby’s and fought
to remain stoic. As blood-red diamonds, fashioned from their tears, covered
their linked hands, Marquis considered Shelby’s words: Since the day he was
born, his brothers had followed his commands, as was the way of the house of
Jadon. But this time, he would do as he was bid. His brother had come back from
the grave to save him, and it broke his heart that it could not have been the
other way around.