Mistwalker (34 page)

“That’s right.” Lissanne nodded, then rubbed her temples with a soft moan. “She’s the most powerful Magick in the world. The only thing she cannot stop is the mist.”

“A Magick?
What does that mean?” Simone asked.

“There are immortals born, to either vampires or other species, even humans on rare occasions, who have tremendous control of the natural elements. They begin as sensitives and quickly grow to show their true power. The one known as Witch is the most powerful of them all,” Juliun said.

“Why do you call her Witch? What’s her real name?”

“Grace Brightmore,” Lissanne said. “But she lost it around four hundred years ago when the last Witch died, and Grace took the position. If it was a man who was the strongest, he would be called a Wizard.”

“What about all the other…Magicks? What are they called?”

“By their names or apprenticeship and year level of training,” Juliun said. “A truly powerful Magick is not always good; there have been some who are evil or uncontrollable. Witch spends a lot of her time moving around communities training those who need help.”

“And Alec’s her son?”

Juliun nodded and folded his newspaper. “We are fortunate to have him. When he bit your friend at the hospital, you could not have asked for a stronger-blooded immortal without the mist. His blood would have saved her until she could be rescued.”

“What about his father?”

“Claudiu Dimir is a powerful healer who lives in Russia,” Juliun said. “He is originally from Romania. He knows Witch has a responsibility to the other immortals, ensuring no harm befalls the communities. Witch saved him,
then trained him before they had Alec.”

Lissanne poured herself another glass of blood, and Simone’s nostrils flared at the scent, but she didn’t ask for a refill. The thought of Witch’s last words rolled through her mind.

“I was told something before you faded us out of Devil’s Forest,” Simone said.

Juliun set
down his blood. “Yes?” The word held an import she didn’t try to fathom.

Doubt choked her chest, but she continued. “Witch told me I would have decisions to make.”

Lissanne rested her elbows on the counter and laid her head in her hand, the sleepiness gone from her eyes. “Go on.”

“Well, I was trying to figure out what she meant because she didn’t have time to elaborate. I was hoping you could.”

“I don’t know. Witch never fully explains things like that,” Lissanne said. “She only ever gives enough information to set you on the path, and you have to find your own way from there.”

“Helpful,” Simone commented.

“What exactly did she tell you?” Juliun asked.

“She said I would have to make decisions.
Something about fate. Not to forget the darkness of my past.”

Lissanne frowned. “That
is
vague. Have you any clues?”

Simone frowned, remembering looking into Tammy’s mind. “No.”

Juliun studied her, his eyes clear and open. His hand swallowed hers, and his touch was electric. She looked down at their hands. His large fingers caressed hers, and the breath shuddered in her lungs. She glanced up at him.

“We will help you. You are one of us now.” He rose from his seat and strode to the counter. When he came back, he refilled her glass. “Drink your breakfast, and do not worry.”

She reached for the glass, wondering why she felt so at home.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Juliun reached out for Simone, but grasped empty silk sheets. He frowned, murmuring a protest, the taste of her velvet skin still on his tongue. Nightmares tormented him, and he groaned at the knowledge she wasn’t lying beside him.

He opened his eyes, and the snow-capped North York moors was the only sight to greet him. He’d overslept.

He sighed, tucking his hands behind his head and relaxed against the sheets, reliving the touch of Simone in his dreams. He struggled to leave the images behind, fully expecting her to be lying beside him. The images in his mind fitted with reality, no longer dreams.

They’d made love again after he’d showed her how much they belonged together, kissing her until his heart soared, hearing her moans, and he didn’t need to look down to view the evidence of his arousal. It seemed he’d been that way on a permanent basis since he’d met her.

The seductive texture of her creamy soft skin made him ache with all that they could have. The dream started as a nightmare; he’d been unable to rescue her from Dravego.

Juliun closed his eyes, and with the despair still so fresh, he didn’t have far to dig. Somehow, they made it back to Ravenkeep, and he spent the night cherishing her, kissing and stroking her lissom body as she lay naked and eager on his bed.

In that moment, he felt his years were not a waste, and that the centuries of loneliness no longer cursed him.

No wonder he hadn’t wanted to wake up.

He rose, showered and then dressed in black linen trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt. He rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, revealing the royal two-line tattoo which signified his lineage and strength.

His mother possessed one line signifying her fertility at his birth. His late father and grandfather carried a tri-line with dark slashes and slightly curling ends like sharp blades. Simone had the strength of the mist, and he prayed they would be blessed with children.

He faded to the elegant dining room where his mother was deep in conversation with Vaughn and Klaus. Grandfather sat at the head of the table, the daily newspaper in front of him. Juliun grinned. Some things never changed.

“Is Simone down yet?” Juliun asked, striding to the table. He pulled out a chair. “I appeared to have slept in?”

His mother turned to greet him. “Oh, Juliun. Simone stepped out for a while. She wanted to retrieve the Cel Batrin book from her apartment and read it while sitting with Tammy.”

Vaughn stepped around Lissanne. “We’re about to make anoth
er delivery. We have to visit the bigger hospitals this time. Local stocks are running low.”

Juliun nodded.
“Fine.” They often needed the mist to transport vast quantities of blood to Ravenkeep. Sometimes, they even went to other countries where there was an overstock for the shipment. “I will be ready in five minutes. How long has Simone been gone?”

His mother frowned; obvious worry blooming in her brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, it has been a while. I thought…well, she seems so capable, but…” Lissanne looked down at her watch and bit her lip. “That was about two hours ago. I’ve been in discussions about the delivery so it may be longer.”

Juliun rose so fast his chair scraped the floor and almost toppled. It didn’t take that long to pick up a book. “She should have returned.” If Dravego and his men had touched one hair on her body, he was about to transport them all to the hottest desert on earth. “Damn!”

Radu turned another page of the newspaper and looked up. “Go. I will do the shipment. Ensure your bride is safe.”

Juliun dematerialised and took form again outside Simone’s apartment door amid the shifting shadows. He wouldn’t break her trust by using the mist to her disadvantage and appear right inside her home. But the fear she could be in danger made him stalk from the darkness and knock on the door with more force than necessary.

Male voices echoed inside her apartment, smooth and seductive, and then Simone’s voice floated out, holding an unmistakable thread of panic.

She was in trouble. Juliun kicked open the door and the wood slammed back against the wall.

Every occupant in the apartment jumped. Their startled expressions would have been comical if Juliun felt like laughing. The door shuddered on its hinges, and all three stared at him with open mouths. The mist trailed behind him, his fingertips and feet disappearing, and the two males sitting on Simone’s sofa no longer had any either. Juliun gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to drop the vampires in the Sahara Desert with the dire warning to keep the hell away from his bride.

Raoul and Altair Nikolous, handsome sons of powerful European vampires were in attendance. Not only that, but they stared at Juliun like
he
was the intruder.

One wrong word out of their mouths, and they would be ash. Juliun’s hands balled into fists as he took stock of the situation. Someone had talked. Soon all the eligible males of the species would come courting. He doubted it would matter if they found out she was his bride. She had the mist, and that was reward enough to risk death. He didn’t mind a bit of competition, he’d expected it. He wondered, however, if they were prepared to face him, because he was more than ready to fight for her.

“Juliun,” Simone breathed. Bright sparks lit her green eyes, and her berry pink lips wobbled. She attempted to smile, but with fully extended fangs, the expression didn’t come off so well.
“Thank goodness.”

His brows lowered.
*Have they hurt you?*
He noticed the Cel Batrin book on the hallstand and tucked the tome under his arm.

*What took you so long? I’ve been dying here. Do you have anything with you?*

He blinked, noticing her strained knuckles on the armrests of the chair and the stiffness of her body. Her tight, pinched face and flared nostrils.

*Anything with me?*

She looked down at her trembling hands and clenched them together, lifting them into her lap. She glanced at Raoul and Altair. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

She rose from the seat, her sunset red hair washed and loose about her shoulders, and she stalked with a single-minded intent straight for Juliun. Light green eye shadow picked up the different shades in her eyes, and the gems of a multi-hued beaded necklace danced in the light, trailing into the creamy globes of her cleavage.

His mouth dried, his gaze following the path to her lush breasts. She growled in her throat. He looked up. Circlet drop earrings danced under the fall of her long hair.

The males’ heads swivelled, their gazes locked on her loose limbed grace. Juliun wanted to rip off their heads. No one should see her like this but him.

She’d changed into tight faded blue jeans and a bright pink singlet. The jeans didn’t meet up with the hem of the shirt, and her smooth belly flashed, her navel moving gently with the seductive sway of her hips. Bare footed, her toenails were painted black, the same as her fingernails.

She reached out a hand to Juliun and crushed the neckline of his shirt in a fierce, deadly grip.

“What—?” He stared down at her with open mouthed shock.

She used some kind of twisting technique and literally threw him down the corridor into the nearest open doorway. Then she slammed the door shut behind her and spun around so fast her red hair flared. She leaned against the wood, heaving in great big gulps of air. “You’re here.”

He stared at her trembling body. “So help me, if any of those bastards have even touched—”

“They haven’t.” Her gaze flashed up, and the skin around her face tightened further. Her pearly white teeth lengthened, and she rolled her head back, levelling her green gaze upon him. “I would’ve shot them, and then taken them sight-seeing.
Maybe vice-versa.”

He laughed, catching sight of the butt of a gun tucked into the back of her jeans. The smooth skin of her belly glistened with sweat.
That was his girl
.

She went to speak, but doubled over and groaned, clutching her stomach. Wisps of red hair covered her face.
“Oh.”
She wiped the tears dripping from her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He grabbed hold of her before she fell down and eased her into his arms. “Stop what? What is wrong, Simone?”

“I don’t know how I managed to stop. I can’t…I can’t…You have to help. I’m dying from my hunger. Do you have any blood bags with you? Please tell me you brought some.”

“No,” he whispered. “They are getting the shipment now.”

She reached out desperately and wrapped her left arm around his neck, the breath shuddering in her body. Her breasts pushed up against his chest, and the soft scent of flowers and rich blood wafted up to him. Her hair tickled his cheek, and he choked on his reaction to ravage her on the bathroom tile. Push up that flimsy top and suck her perky, soft breasts into his mouth and pull down her jeans. Her nipples hardened beneath the bright cotton. The tight denim of her jeans clung to the firm curves beneath his hands. As if they knew what he wanted.

His hands moved down to her body, slowly and sensuously. Shit, she had visitors in the living room for chrissake! She was hungry. They could probably hear every little word.

Juliun firmed his jaw. “I can help you.
I will help you
.” He plucked out the gun from her jeans and left it on the floor.

The pink tip of her tongue poked out and swept across her lips, and the bare skin of her stomach rubbed against his hand. He groaned, staring at her lips, then into her eyes, unsure after a moment if he even existed.

“You are such a good boy,” she slurred the compliment, then pushed him hard up against the sink, her right knee raised over his legs, her strong and supple body pinning him. The bathroom mirror rattled with the force, and she grappled with his body and pulled him away again to toss him to the other side of the room. His back thudded against the bathroom door.