The Third Fate (16 page)

Her smile was wide and immediate. Taking the drink he offered, she answered.

“
I cannot help but notice how…how open…the guests are. It is quite different from your friend and his new mate.”

Cael laughed softly from behind her chair. His hand rested on her shoulder, igniting a fire under her skin. The room was charged with sexuality, and Paige struggled to decide if she was uncomfortable due to her own inhibitions or because she was aroused.

“
Aye. Open is a good word to describe them. Does it trouble ye, lass?”

Her eyes scanned the room. Unoccupied female vampires strolled the rooms on the lookout for anyone not engaged in love play. Near nakedness worn like an exquisite gown, they moved gracefully amongst the guests, ensuring pleasure was the only concern to be had. Paige was no prude, but to parade around in only the sheer robes in front of any and everyone was more freedom than she cared to exercise.

“
Not exactly. Do they want to be here?”

“
No one is here against their will, Paige. Raven House is for those who want her.”

“
The Raven…,” she repeated. “Is that the name of the place or the owner?”

“
Both.”

“
Will I meet her?”

“
That will be up to her.”

Soft moans overtook their conversation, coming from the room just beyond where they sat, and Paige shifted in her seat, a blush rising on her cheeks. Cael bent to her side.

“
Those sounds of pleasure whet my appetite for ye.”

Paige cleared her throat as quietly as she could manage. Cael swirled his fingertips over her collarbone, tracing just under the silken edge of her sari. Her skin tingled at his touch, the entire room spinning as her senses drowned in the sensualist atmosphere surrounding them.

“
I…I’d …”

“
Aye, lass. It is time to go.”

They passed through The Raven’s entertainment hall, heading for the stairs. Paige could not help but look upon the players enjoying foreplay along the way. Sex and drinking were not allowed in the open, but exploration and play were exhibited in artful creativity. Her senses were so heightened that each brush of the smooth sari against her flesh encouraged the heated wetness between her legs.

Cael was just as affected, his hands roving her hips and waist suggestively as they mounted the stairs. Outside their room in the empty hall he pressed her against the wall, grinding his hips against her back, nipping the nape of her neck. Unblocking the spell on the door he led them in, his hunger loosed once in the privacy of their room. Ravenous, Cael stripped the sari from her body with expert movement, the cool air icy against her heated skin. Paige gasped, never before having experienced such arousal.

Freeing his body from the confines of his clothing, Paige stroked his hardness, eager to touch him everywhere at once. Her mouth sucked at his flesh, trailing over his chest and down the line of dark hair to the weighted shaft in her hand. She swirled her tongue over the head, his ragged groan stilling her. She grew uncertain suddenly at her boldness.

“
Ah, lass. Doona make me beg,” he rasped, gripping her head, guiding her forward.

She smiled, humming against his tight flesh before sliding her lips over his length. Naked before him on her knees, drawing him into her mouth greedily, Paige abandoned herself to him, worshiping his body with hers, taking as much as giving. Total surrender to him, to them, to the moment, multiplied her pleasure. Never before had she given without reserve, without fear. Cael Maccinnis owned her heart completely. She could no longer deny it.

He pulled her away.

“
Come to me, lass. I want to be inside ye.”

Paige wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her, backing her against the closed door and taking her in a single thrust. Hungry and possessive he invaded, his rough thrusts pinning her against the door. She cried out, coming around him as he pulled her wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs. Paige fractured again, her own thirst wild and demanding. Her fangs elongated, need overwhelming her senses, and she bit into his neck. The heady, metallic blood spilled over her tongue, prolonging the sweetest pleasure she’d known. Cael groaned deeply, her orgasm milking him, and he buried himself within her and spent, his heated pulse adding to her pleasure. Still pinned against the door, Cael deep inside her, Paige
knew
what and who she was, what she wanted.

I am vampire. I am Druid.

And her destiny was irrevocably tied to the ancient, Cael Maccinnis.

The pain came on her then. Searing, stabbing, pain. She knew death had come to claim her. Her heart broke, for she had at last found her way, her self.

More pain.

Oh, Cael…the pain…

Then darkness. And fire.

*

Malcolm staggered, steadying himself against the high-backed chair, and Pilar rushed to his side.

“
Is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“
Yes,” he answered. “My child journeys over the Netherworld.”

Pilar walked him to her chamber where a small shrine stood. Pouring a drink libation over the statue of Arawn, ruler of the Otherworld, creator and patron of the vampire, she began the invocations for aid, protection, and safe passage over the Netherworld realms. Ankou, ruler of death, and Dis Pater, Lord of the Underworld, would seek to entice the traveler into their realms, stealing her chance of return to take her place as one of the undead.

Arawn, however, was powerful. He guarded his creation diligently.

Long ago, before the time mortals had subdued the earth, Arawn shared kingship over Otherworld with Hafgan. Arawn and Hafgan battled for sole leadership, yet because of powerful and strange magic, Arawn could not defeat his enemy. Pwyll, a mighty mortal, offered to trade places with Arawn for one year and one day, promising to defeat the usurping Hafgan to gain favor. Arawn consented. True to his word, Pwyll smote the tyrant - and handed over the Otherworld to Arawn. Pwyll asked no boon for his service, earning the love and respect of the god, Arawn.

“
Because of your mighty deed, loyalty and act of selfless service, I, King Arawn, Lord of the Otherworld, make you a gift. The Father of Time has allotted your kind one hundred-twenty years. Then you must pass to the Netherworld realms, finding your place amongst the kingdoms there. But I offer you kinship with the gods - eternal life. If you accept my boon, you must pass across the Netherworld, not stopping along the way lest you be diverted and never return to your body.”

“
Eternal life?” Pwyll repeated. “Kinship with the gods? What have I done to merit such a gift? Surely I would live long, mighty Arawn, but would I live to see my loved ones all pass from this realm and thus be alone for eternity? My heart cannot bear that thought.”

“
You desire companionship,” Arawn acknowledged. “You were created for relationship; it is your nature. Therefore, faithful Pwyll, I grant you a second boon. You may make those you love like you, gifting them eternal life if they survive the ordeal.”

“
If I survive this perilous journey, I must send all whom I love on its path?”

“
That is so,” Arawn replied, his voice rolling like thunder, “All that you choose, Pwyll. But your descendants shall evermore be born as you. Eternal.”

Ankou and Dis Pater, angered over Arawn’s creation, appealed to the Father of Time himself, threatening rebellion if robbed for all time of Pwyll’s descendents and all those he changed, arguing that Arawn could rule over all Earth’s realms if Pwyll and his offspring Awakened all they came in contact with. The power of life and death would become unbalanced if eternal life could be gifted so easily.

At that, the seeds of suspicion had been planted, and The Father of Time added his own restraints to Arawn’s creation.

“
Eternal life is a handsome prize, Pwyll, Awakened of Arawn. But even the gods must answer to me. Just as in the Otherworld, where darkness rules, so shall you be governed. Verily, I speak the truth. When you meet the dawn, you shall die.”

Father of Time, turning to Arawn, spoke harshly.

“
You have created a race of beings that threaten my domains, Arawn, Lord of the Otherworld. To ensure they do not seek to change all of my creation, I impose my sanctions. All their days will they hunger for the life force of blood. Therefore will they sustain and nurture my creation, the living, for without them, they will starve.”

Returning his fiery resplendence to Pwyll, the Father of Time pronounced his final indictment.

“
Vampyre. This is the title I bestow upon you. Roam the earth for eternity and serve your creator well. But heed my warning, creature of the night. I renounce claim to your soul and all like you, as do the Netherworld realms. Live in peace and cause yourself no fear of me.”

Malcolm and Pilar recited the ancient story, exhorting Arawn to recall their faithful service over the whole of history come to pass since that first Awakening. The flame was lit, the incense carrying their supplications through the curtain that separated the earthly realm from the Otherworld, where Arawn presided over his court.

Through the long night they remained on their knees, prostrating themselves before the altar on behalf of Malcolm’s child. Side by side, joined in spirit, he and Pilar solidified their bond, unknowingly widening the fissures that threatened to splinter vampire hierarchy.

Rowan held her breath, willing her heart to quiet as it thumped a wild drumbeat within her breast. Fife House’s library was open to all vampires, and she was doing nothing more than some research – but that didn’t matter now. The conversation she overheard through the stacks was enough to condemn her to the dawn. Thinking nothing of hearing the low murmur of voices, she’d continued browsing the pages of her book until whispers of Cael Maccinnis caught her attention. Avidly listening from that point on, Rowan’s fear grew with each passing word.

Things had been uneasy and tense at Fife House, and Rowan now understood why. Cael had closed off his psychic link, which was not unusual. He was notorious for doing so. Without the means to speak directly with him unless he chose to reveal himself, Rowan knew she had no choice but to risk reaching out to him. But not here. Not now.

With Alden’s whereabouts unknown, Rowan was alone. Before she could attempt anything she had to remain unnoticed by the two vampires in the lower level reference section.

“
But Gwendolyn has never met the half-born. Can she project the image well enough to deceive Maccinnis?”

“
Relax, Conrad,” Kaiden Douglas hushed, accenting the first word with serpent-like speech. “We’ve figured a way around meeting her.”

“
How?” the ancient vampire asked suspiciously.

“
We’ve introduced ourselves to her family.”

Conrad hummed in wicked delight, “Genius. Now we must determine how to lay our trap. We cannot risk Maccinnis being with the half-born when we set Gwendolyn on him.”

“
Again, Conrad, relax. Your lack of faith is most disturbing. I’d hate to have to dissolve our tentative alliance because of your trust issues.”

“
Don’t threaten what you cannot follow through with, Kaiden. It’s the first rule in a power-play. You’d do yourself well to learn it.” Conrad returned, disdain plain in his tone.

“
You give me far less credit than I deserve,” the lesser vamp shot back.

At last, fading footsteps announced their departure from the rarely utilized section of the library, and Rowan exhaled slowly, sinking to the floor to recover her wits and decide what her first step of action should be.

Ten, then fifteen minutes passed, and when she was assured the vampires had left for good, Rowan moved down a few aisles and pulled the Druid magic books from their slots, filling the empty spaces with books from another shelf. She hated to piss-off the librarian but couldn’t risk anyone finding the books missing. If Gwendolyn was back in town bad things were about to happen. The she-vampire conjured powerful magic and wielded it ruthlessly. Her lies and betrayal nearly destroyed Cael once; Rowan wasn’t about to sit back and allow Gwendolyn to wreak havoc in her friend’s life again.

Strolling out of the library in nonchalance, projecting a distracted manner, Rowan slipped through the doors with the texts tucked safely in her shoulder bag. Sending a direct call telepathically would alert anyone monitoring Cael, and she was certain Conrad and Kaiden would be doing just that. Rowan needed an indirect path of communication. An idea took shape in her mind. The Garrow brothers. She hurried to the west wing to gather her things.

Ewan and Eagen Garrow were infamous within the vampire world. The black market was their playground, and they had connections throughout vampire and mortal realms. The brothers would likely jump at the chance to thwart any secret plan of the established powers. Unlike the chaos loving anarchists, Ewan and Eagen favored order and law, just their own brand.

If she could convince them to believe her.

She held only a loose association with them, work done a few years ago with their team on an internet bank hacking problem that had stolen much money from vampire accounts across the Islands. Gaining an audience with the vampire equivalent of crime syndicate brothers might prove to be a tricky business – if her gift failed her.