Darkest Risings (18 page)

She
took another sip of her coffee and frowned. So much was rambling around in her
brain in a jumbled mess it was giving her a headache. But out of all of the
confusing things she’d overheard, the one that weighed on her heaviest was
Aldin’s possible injury. Had he been lying about the blood in his room earlier?
Had he been hurt? But she’d seen him naked and hadn’t seen any type of wound on
his body that could account for the amount of blood she’d found on the floor.

And
what was all the nonsense about requiring a source, life mates, the prophecy,
vampires, and all the other mumbo jumbo she had no hope of deciphering? She
couldn’t begin to piece together a logical explanation for what she’d
overheard. She massaged her temple. Maybe if she got a few hours of decent
sleep, she would have a better chance of making sense of the whole mess.

“Well
hello there.”

She
jumped and her half-empty coffee cup slipped from her fingers. Before it
crashed to the floor, a hand shot out and caught the cup without spilling a
drop.

She
looked up into turquoise eyes that resembled Aldin’s and his brothers’, yet
distinctly different.

“I’m
Uriah. The youngest Aleksandrov brother. And you are?”

“I
didn’t know Aldin had another brother. I’m Wilhemina. Ebony’s friend.”

“Ah.
Well, Ebony is lucky to have such a beautiful friend.”

She
felt her cheeks heat and took the cup from him when he handed it to her. He had
some impressive reflexes and was as blessed in the looks department as his
brothers were.
Not quite as good-looking
as Aldin, though.
His coppery-brown hair was different too. Ashe and Aldin
both had black hair, and Aiston had blonde—which she’d figured he must have
gotten from his father. Now she wasn’t so sure.

He
was tall, but not quite as tall as Aldin, and had somewhat of a boyish charm
about him. Although, she got the distinct feeling that anyone who
underestimated him would be sorry. He had that same commanding air about him
that seemed to come natural to the Aleksandrov brothers. He didn’t look any
younger than his siblings. In fact, now that she thought about it, all of them
looked the same age. How was that possible?

Good genes.

Uriah
was dressed in faded blue jeans, brown, form fitting t-shirt, and brown boots.
He was leaner muscled than Aldin, but was just as ripped. She doubted he had
any trouble attracting female attention. Suddenly, his smile faded, and he took
a step toward her, which nearly put them toe to toe. He leaned closer and
slowly perused her from head to toe and back until his eyes rested on her face.

“There
is something about you, Wilhemina. Something intoxicating.”

What
the hell? Was Uriah coming on to her?

“You
bet your sweet ass I am.”

“W-what?
I didn’t say anything.” The situation was becoming weird fast.

The
devilish grin that curved his lips gave her an overwhelming urge to run to her
bedroom and lock the door. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of him, but her
instincts were kicking in hard. Right now they were telling her that Uriah was
not the calm, cool, collected man he was portraying. She got a distinct feeling
that there were so many layers to him even a professional painter wouldn’t be
able to strip them all off to uncover the original surface below.

He
gave her the impression of someone portraying an illusion of being at ease
while a fierce cauldron of emotions swirled and boiled beneath that fake
facade. She sucked in a sharp breath when he suddenly bent his head toward her
and put his mouth close to her ear.

“I
think you and I could have some fun, sweetheart.”

Before
she could say a word, Uriah was flying backward and a furious Aldin was
standing over him as he lay sprawled on the floor. Before she could blink,
Uriah was up and cold-cocked Aldin in the nose. The sound of cartilage
crunching turned her stomach.

Uriah
winked at her from over Aldin’s shoulder and gave a cocky smile. But in an
instant, that smile was treated to a return punch from Aldin. After that, the
two went at each other with a ferocity that she was sure would end with one of
them seriously hurt…or worse.

She
couldn’t stand the thought of Aldin being hurt, and before her mind could make
her understand the illogicality of what she was about to do, her heart spurred
her into action. She ran toward Aldin and Uriah and jumped in between them just
as Uriah took another swing at Aldin. Fortunately, the punch missed Aldin.
Unfortunately, it didn’t miss her. Her cheek exploded, and the force of the
punch spun her around and knocked her against Aldin’s chest. She looked up,
thinking she’d be lucky if she came out of this without being permanently
disfigured. The horror and anger on Aldin’s face was the last thing she
remembered before she sank deep into the blackness that claimed her.

Trinidad
tapped the ends of his fingers together as the drifters gathered around his
chair in the basement of the new building he’d chosen for their hideout. Rage
roiled inside him. He shouldn’t have to hide like some rat in the sewer. Soon
he wouldn’t. Soon he would lead the drifters into a war with the hunters that
he was determined to win. Once he won, he would have everything that he
rightfully deserved.

He
pined for the day his half-brother realized who and what Trinidad was. Ragnor
was nothing. How could he be? After all, the great Vampyre King had no
knowledge of Trinidad’s existence. Ragnor had no right to the title of king
anyway. He’d not led the vampyre for hundreds of years. His existence was
merely a legend among the vampyre. But Trinidad knew the truth.

And
soon he’d rid Ragnor of everything he held dear. Soon he’d make his
half-brother suffer as he had. He’d take great joy in taking all of Ragnor’s
sons, daughters-in-law, and even his grandbaby, Marcus, from him. Marilena
would pay the most. She should have been his as well. Trinidad’s mother may
have been scorned by Christos, may have been outcast by her lover and shunned
by the village she once called her home, but he couldn’t deny that she’d
deserved it. She had been a whore, after all, consorting with a married man.

However,
as much as she was within her rights to cast the curse upon Christos and his
wife Riella, she had inadvertently cast it upon him as well. No matter how
unfortunate that little mishap had been, it made him Christos’ first born. Not
Ragnor. Trinidad. But, of course, the great Christos would never acknowledge a
bastard from an outcast whore.

Now
was time for Ragnor to pay for what his father had done. Christos and Riella
had deserted Earth for the God Realm and were unreachable. Therefore, someone
must pay for his carelessness. Ragnor would soon find out what power was. He
was a true blood. A true blood that also carried his mother’s witch blood. Once
he rid the world of Ragnor and his repulsive family, there would be no one that
could stop him from taking his rightful position as King of Vampyre. But not
only would he be King of Vampyre, he’d be king of the drifters as well. He’d be
unstoppable. The world would become his personal playground.

It
was the first time in his life that he felt giddy. The only other time he’d
come close to that feeling was when he’d made the great Malachi Mannering his bitch.
Malachi would be back in town soon to help the Aleksandrovs. Maybe he would
spare Malachi from death and keep him for more amusing things. At least until
he tired of him.

He
could hardly wait to see Ragnor’s despair as he witnessed the torture of his
whole snot-nosed family. And the ultimate blow would be when he found out that
Trinidad planned to keep Marcus and raise him as his own son. He would bring
Marcus up to understand the true meaning of power. Power was meant to rule.
Power was meant to instill fear into the weak.

He
looked at the leader he’d chosen to replace Grady. Grady would be dealt with as
well. No one crossed Trinidad without suffering consequences. No one crossed
him without paying.

* * * *

Grady
watched from the shadows of a deep corner of the basement of Trinidad’s new
hideout. Earlier, he’d simply walked in with four other drifters. His black
hoodie covered his head, and he kept his eyes downcast so no one could see his
face clearly. None had been the wiser to him.

Luckily
for him, drifters were not friendly by nature and most wouldn’t know who was
supposed to be there and who was not. They’d assume he was another one of
Trinidad’s good little rookies.

“Blane,
is everything ready for tomorrow night?” Trinidad inquired.

The
room became deathly quiet. Grady didn’t blame the drifters. Trinidad’s voice
alone was tainted with enough malcontent and evil to make Satan’s skin crawl.

“Yes,
sir,” Blane answered with a surprisingly solid voice.

Grady
had to listen closely to pick up on the hint of quiver that gave away the
nervousness he was trying hard to conceal. He understood that feeling all too
well. He’d been on pins and needles every second of every day that he’d been
under Trinidad’s thumb. The vampire was capable of snapping at any given moment
over any little thing. And when Trinidad lost it, it wasn’t pretty.

Things
got fucked up fast when Trinidad was pissed. Things like bones being broken,
heads being torn off of bodies, and excruciating death.

“You
did everything exactly as I instructed?”

Grady
hated it when Trinidad tapped the ends of his bony fingers together.

“Yes,
sir. Tomorrow night as per our informants, Aiston Aleksandrov and his mate will
be at Drake’s. At precisely midnight, they will be lured to the back room. I
have the tranquilizers you provided, and they will be used to bring the two
in.”

“Excellent.
And, Blane?”

“Yes,
sir?”

“Do
not fail me. If you fail me, there will be dire consequences. Do you
understand?”

Blane
nodded.

“While
it is not necessary for me to have Aiston and Avril to proceed with my plans of
taking down the hunters, it will give me an advantage in the war I’m about to
wage. Do not underestimate the hunters. Do not fuck this up.”

Blane
gulped before nodding again.

“I
will expect my delivery shortly after midnight tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Grady
quietly slipped out with the same drifters he’d slipped in with. Once outside
the building, he casually turned and started in the direction that would take
him to the Aleksandrov mansion. This was his chance to prove to the hunters
that it was in their best interest to keep him alive.

He
was seriously beginning to doubt the greatness Trinidad touted about himself.
If he was the most powerful vampire, a true blood supposedly even more mighty
than the legendary Ragnor, why didn’t he possess the simple ability to detect
an enemy in his lair?

Probably because he’s too damned
cock-sure of himself.
He shook his
head. The downfall of every great leader was ego and over confidence in the
belief that no one could touch him.

* * * *

“I’m
going to fucking kill him!” Aldin thundered furiously.

Aiston
and Ashe held him back to keep him from ripping Uriah to shreds. Ragnor and
Marilena appeared in the dining room shortly after Aiston and Ashe had.

“What
the hell happened?” Marilena rushed over to a limp Wilhemina lying on the
floor.

“He
fucking hit her!” Aldin strained against his brothers’ hold.

“I
didn’t mean to,” Uriah said. “I’d never hit a woman. She stepped in between us
and I clocked her one that was meant for Aldin.”

“Why
were you two fighting to begin with? You just met. You barely know one another.
You have nothing to quarrel over,” Ragnor said through tight lips.

“He
was all over Wilhemina,” Aldin growled.

“She’s
my
viata amant,”
Uriah said.

“Like
fucking hell!”

Thunder
shook the house with such force a large, framed picture fell off the wall.

“Uriah!
She is not your life mate,” Marilena said.

“Yes.
She is.”

“She
is not.” Marilena glanced at Ragnor then back at Aldin.

“How
would you know, Mother?” Uriah asked.

“She
is Aldin’s, and I think he’s more than proven that with his actions,” Marilena
answered.

“No,
I can tell. There is something familiar about her.”

“There
is an explanation for that.”

Aldin
stared at his mother for a long time. His instincts kicked his gut into a churning
of dread. “How could you possibly have an explanation for that?” he asked. He
shook his brothers off and jerked his head toward Uriah. “He’s safe for now. I
want to hear what Mother has to say.”

Aldin
went to where Wilhemina was and scooped her up into his arms. She was warm,
breathing normally, and the beat of her heart was strong and steady.