Lothaire (57 page)

So this is the notorious Nïx.
“Why have I been brought here?”

“Cara the Fair, your Valkyrie/Fury abductor for the night, plans to ransom you to Lothaire for information. You see, he took Cara’s twin sister—our queen, Furie—and imprisoned her.”

Cara gave Ellie yet another shove, her violet eyes turning silver with emotion. “Your lover chained her to the bottom of the ocean so she could drown over and over till the end of time! He did this six decades ago!”

Had
flames
just fanned up around Cara’s head?

Nïx murmured, “Easy Carafina, your wings begin to show.”

Wings of fire? Ellie was too distraught to care. She bit out the words, “You’re too late. He’s
dead
.”

“What?” Nïx cried, looking genuinely upset. “I didn’t see that!”

“I-I beheaded him.” Blood bubbled up from her stomach as nausea washed over her, but she choked it back down.

Someone along the wall murmured, “A vampiress beheaded the Enemy of Old? I can’t decide if I should gut her or get her autograph.”

Ellie whirled around with a hiss.

Cara told Nix, “He’s not dead. His Bride left a sliver of tendon. Not a complete decapitation. He’ll rise again.”

Hope leapt in Ellie’s heart. “He’ll . . . he’ll
live
?” Again her new claws dug into her palms.

“Come closer, Elizabeth, and let me see for certain,” Nïx said. When Ellie eagerly did, the soothsayer seemed to peer inside her mind. After what felt like hours, Nïx pronounced, “Lothaire is very much alive.”

“You swear?”

“Often. Though not as much as foul-mouthed Regin. I try not to in front of Bertil.” She petted the bat.

“I meant—will Lothaire live?”

“He will.”

For some reason, she trusted this crazy Valkyrie. If Nïx said he would live, then Ellie would believe. She sagged with relief.

Cara snatched her up. “And once he heals, he will come looking for you. Until that time, you’ll be kept here,” Cara said. “There’s no escaping Val Hall. If you try to trace from here, the wraiths will prevent you—violently.”

Ellie was hardly listening.
I didn’t kill him,
her mind chanted,
I didn’t kill him.

Nïx added, “You’ll be a political prisoner of sorts.”

He’s coming for me.
Never would Ellie have expected to be so excited over the prospect.

Then she frowned.
Would
Lothaire come for
her? Would he forgive her? At one point in their fight, he’d looked homicidal. And that had been
before
she’d nearly decapitated him. Of course he would know that was an accident.

She was his vampire Bride; he’d
have
to come for her. Reassured, Ellie finally gazed around at the room.

Though she was beyond relieved that Lothaire would live, she couldn’t feel happiness.

Imprisoned yet again?

 52

A
s if from a great distance, Lothaire heard beings murmuring in . . . Dacian?

Where am I?
He’d sleep-traced again?
Why can’t I open my eyes?
Every muscle in his body tensed, his first frantic thought for Elizabeth.

—“He’s maddened enough,” a deep voice said. “But his mate as well?”

—“At least the curse will be ended,” a female said.

—“True, Mina, but isn’t Lothaire merely a new curse?” a male said dryly. “Perhaps we should have left him in York.”

—“Shall I say
I told you so
sooner, or simply more often?” another male said in a slurring tone. “And it’s
New
York. Evidently, there’s a difference between the two.”

Blyad’!
They
were
Daci. They’d captured him.
Where is Elizabeth?

Then memories of her swept over him. The last thing he recalled was her screaming, her eyes black with rage as she’d wielded a sword. She’d
swung
at him.

Then the bite of the blade.
She . . . she nearly cut off my head?

Gods, she’d lied to him, feigned love for him, and tried to kill him! He’d wondered how many times he could have a sword at his neck before one struck true.

He’d never thought he’d have to worry about his own Bride dealing the blow.

Again, I am betrayed.

With difficulty, he eased his hand to his throat, felt a bandage. Why would the Daci bandage him?

“He’s waking at last.”

When Lothaire managed to lift his lids, he found himself in bed in some palatial room.

The scent of fresh blood carried on the air. Light streamed in through the open window and fanned over his arms, but he didn’t burn. Blurred figures stood by his bed.

He tried to rise. Couldn’t.

As his vision adjusted, he saw three tall, dark-haired males, all similar in looks, and a short, fair-haired female. Each dressed in old-fashioned clothing.

Another massive vampire sat at the desk, boots propped up on it. He was drinking from a flagon—what smelled like alcohol-infused blood. His appearance was more modern than the others’, his eyes a glacial blue.
As mine used to be.

The Dacian from the Bloodroot Forest! “Where am I?” Lothaire grated, his throat burning as if he’d swallowed a poker.

“Castle Dacia,” the seated one said. “I’m Prince Stelian. Standing are the Princes Trehan, Viktor, and Mirceo, as well as Mirceo’s sister, the lovely Princess Kosmina.”

She nervously gave a formal curtsy.

“A
female
vampire?” Lothaire hadn’t seen a full-blooded one in centuries.

“Ours have been safe from the plague here.”

Lothaire narrowed his gaze at Stelian. “You were at Helvita that morning.”

“That is correct. We were endeavoring to save our queen from Tymur’s men. Since you had—what’s the modern term?—
dropped the ball.
”

“Queen?” Dizziness rushed over Lothaire.

“Welcome to your kingdom, my liege. You are our ruler now. Newly restored.” He raised the flagon in a mock toast.

“How? I’ve conquered nothing, have waged no war on you.”

“The royal family has chosen you to be our ruler. Almost unanimously, only one holdout.”

“Why would you do this?” Lothaire demanded, coughing blood. “Why not take the throne yourself?”

“Here, Uncle Lothaire,” the female said, rushing forward with a jewel-encrusted chalice. “Drink this. It has healing herbs—”

Lothaire backhanded the cup against the wall, splattering scented blood.
“Uncle?”

Stelian exhaled. “Technically, you are our cousin. But the younger Mirceo and Kosmina call us elder cousins ‘Uncle’ in quaint tradition.”

“Answer my question!”

Trehan said, “As Ivana the Bold died, she cursed her family to war
and backstab until you were made king, until we all vowed allegiance to you.”

“My mother was no witch.”

Stelian waved that away. “Perhaps she played on the intrigues already at work. This was before our time. In any case, six generations were wiped out by assassinations and civil wars. Finally we decided to investigate you, to see if you would make a good ruler.” He swigged, saying under his breath, “Before we all killed each other.”

The three standing males shot looks at Stelian. He merely shrugged. “Lothaire will find out all eventually.”

Viktor said, “We studied you, but decided you were too crazed to rule anything.”

At Lothaire’s scowl, Mirceo hastily explained, “You insisted on appearing at the outskirts of our kingdom, half-dressed, bellowing for someone to ‘fucking fight you.’ ”

Kosmina gasped. “Language!”

Patting her hand, Mirceo continued, “And you also challenged
Serghei
, who’s been dead—”

“Dead!”
My vengeance is no more?

Mirceo nodded. “For more than a millennium.”

All these years Lothaire had wasted, hell-bent on delivering retribution. To a male who no longer existed.

Trehan said in a measured tone, “Not to mention the fact that you looked as though you intended to consume that Horde leader in the forest. Yet then you settled in with your Bride, and you grew more lucid. We decided to vow allegiance to you and your queen.”

Lothaire tensed even more. So Elizabeth
had
been the key to his throne. Hag’s prediction had proved correct. Too bad Elizabeth had tried to lop off his head. “Where is”—
that bitch
—“she?”

He’d throw her in the dungeon of this castle, condemning her to yet another jail.

Blyad’!
Why didn’t the thought give him pleasure?

Solely because she was his Bride?

He despised that fated tie to her! And now they were blood-bound as well.

But even with that union, Elizabeth had felt nothing for him—had been violently intent on getting away from him—while he’d lowered his guard. . . .

“After the attempt on your life,” Stelian said, “she was captured by a Valkyrie named Cara the Fair.”

So Carafina took my Bride.
Elizabeth was within the walls of Val Hall. Those lightning fiends would terrorize her worse than he ever could. His female had wronged him, and now she would pay.

Lothaire wanted to laugh.

Yet his bitterness staggered under the weight of another feeling.

Loss.
All I feel is . . . loss.

“And La Dorada?” he asked. “Did you have a run-in with her?”

“Her ring has been returned, your transaction completed,” Stelian said, adding against the rim of his flagon, “Gods help the poor souls in that book.”

Lothaire already mourned his ledger, his squandered fortune. He would start a new book! Perhaps he and Dorada could trade debts like baseball cards. . . .

Kosmina cleared her throat. When all eyes turned to her, her face turned bright red. “W-we fear Queen Elizavetta is behind the guard of the Ancient Scourge. Th-there’s no way to circumvent them.” The chit was socially inept, more backward than he’d ever believed Elizabeth to be.

“Your
uncle
knows a way around the Scourge,” Lothaire grated with disgust. “But I won’t be using it.”

Carafina thought to force him to reveal where her sister was? Everyone assumed he knew—simply because he’d been the one to sink her in the first place.

Perhaps I oughtn’t to have chosen a seabed with frequent seismic rifts and a strong current?

When he’d told others he had no idea where Furie was, he’d spoken the truth.

To this day, Lothaire couldn’t find the Valkyrie queen, despite Hag’s help. Even if he could, he would never ransom Elizabeth.
“Ugly on the inside!”
she’d screamed.
“I could never love you!”

She truly hadn’t fallen for him.

For
him.

Which indicated that she was an idiot. He had no time or patience for them.

Damn you, Elizabeth, why . . . ?

Stelian tsked. “Feelings stung because of one measly beheading?”

They knew she’d done this to him?
I’ll kill them all
—

“She left an eighth of an inch of tendon,” Stelian added. “Plenty for regeneration.”

Lothaire narrowed his gaze at him. “You’re the one who voted against restoring me.”

“That I am. Seemed wise then, and even more so now that you’ve lost your queen.”

“I haven’t
lost
her.”

“I’m no expert with females”—the others rolled their eyes at that—“but I believe an attempted decapitation communicates the need for some
space
.”

Lothaire didn’t like this Stelian smart-ass.

In an innocent tone, the Dacian asked, “Isn’t that the modern term for it?”

Viktor said, “We’ve already assembled a party to negotiate with the Valkyries. If that fails, I will happily lead the siege.” Black flickered across his irises, as if the idea of a war aroused him.

So this one likes to fight.
“
Dis
assemble it. Carafina can rot waiting.” At the male’s incredulous look, Lothaire said, “I don’t want my Bride retrieved.”

Mirceo said, “Whatever happened between Queen Elizavetta and yourself should be subordinate to the good of the crown—”

“Do not speak her name again,” Lothaire murmured, “or it will be your last utterance.”

Mirceo’s lips parted in surprise. “If this is what you . . . command, my liege.”

“Not used to taking orders, are you, Mirceo?” Lothaire gazed at them one by one. “You all assume that I
want
your kingdom? Perhaps I prefer the fucking Horde!”

Another gasp from Kosmina, with more furious blushes.

Stelian said, “Go to the window, look out.”

Uncaring of his nudity, Lothaire did. With a choked sputter, Kosmina traced away, while Mirceo chuckled. “There
are
garments for you, Uncle. Take care not to set a new fashion.”

At the window, Lothaire stared out, agog.
Why did Ivana ever leave this place?

He was in the fabled black stone castle of Dacia, the one circled by fountains of blood.

The magnificent structure sat high upon some rocky vantage—from here, he could survey a kingdom that stretched on and on, before fading into a mist on the horizon.