Chapter 13

“Are you sure?” Averill eyed the vampire who brought her the news. She wanted to jump off of her throne and run through the main hall to see with her own eyes. Instead, she remained regal, as a leader should. Eadgar and Eadric had not returned, and Dante felt a disturbance with the wolves, so he went to see what the matter was. She was glad. She wanted to receive Alasdair for the first time in one hundred and fifty years without Dante’s eyes judging her.

The vampire’s blue icicle eyes sparkled as he smiled. “Yes, I saw him with my own eyes being led through the passage by Jade. It’s Bryce, no doubt in my mind, I’d recognize him anywhere.”

“Very well. Show the prisoner in.” She turned to see the vampires who lingered about. Six or seven. They were there for her protection. She didn’t need protection. This was her moment. “Everyone is to leave. I will receive this traitor alone.” The vampires looked questioningly at each other but did as they were asked and left the chamber in silence. When they all had gone, she nodded at the blue-eyed vampire who opened the door. Jade, one of Dante’s favored wolves entered, dragging a massive figure behind her.

They walked to the center of the chamber, the farthest point anyone was allowed to go in the presence of the Council, and waited, as was the custom, for Averill to speak first. Averill barely paid attention to Jade, her eyes washed over the figure beside her. The figure that was weak, dripping in perspiration, and reeking of dog piss. His dark black wavy hair was matted with bloody sweat and dirt. His neck and wrists had exposed wounds from being shackled in silver.

“I only see one traitor. Where is my other prisoner?”

Jasmine bowed her head. “Forgive me, Faolan was killed. I could only return with one, and I chose who I deemed more valuable in your eyes.”

Averill rose from her seat. She walked slowly toward Alasdair, who still failed to make eye contact with her. “Yes, this one is far more precious to me than his little cunt.” Bryce’s emerald eyes flashed up, meeting Averill’s gaze for the first time.

“Oh, did I say something offensive?” She laughed lightly. Bryce continued to glare at her. “Give me your gloves, Jade.” Jasmine dropped the silver chains and obeyed. She removed the gloves and gave them to Averill who relished in the fact that Alasdair did not run. Instead, he stayed still like an obedient dog. Averill slipped her hands into the leather and motioned for Jasmine to leave. “You can go to the courtyard with the other wolves, I’ll call for you later. I know Dante wishes to speak to you, he wasn’t happy with your tardiness and I’m sure he’d like to hear about what exactly happened to Faolan.” Jasmine nodded and crossed the room. When the door had closed, Averill wound the chains around her finger and pulled Bryce closer to her. She smiled, revealing white fangs against red lipstick.

“Hello, love. Did you miss me?”

“I’d be lying if I said I did,” Bryce replied candidly. He didn’t seem afraid, but then again, his bravery was always something that attracted him to her.

“Oh, it’s been a long time since I heard that delicious accent.” She crinkled up her nose as she smiled, then bit down on her lip. She was going to have so much fun playing with her new toy.

Bryce raised a brow at her. “Nae long enough, lass.”

Averill smiled in return, even broken and beaten she still found him irresistible. “Now I know you think me harsh, but this all could have been avoided if you had just followed the rules.”

“We both know ye keep changing the rules. Besides, I didnae think I was still in yer jurisdiction.”

“I am the law Alasdair, and you tried to be above the law.”

“I tried to live in peace.”

“Well clearly we have come to an impasse.” She tugged him closer by the chains, noting how he winced from the pain. She leaned in close so she could whisper her words to him. Any closer and her lips would be on his. “So, I will offer you a choice. If you wish for peace, turn over your newborn to me and you can go back to bartending in that dingy little pub you love so much. Think about it, you can return to playing darts and flirting with underage girls in less than forty-eight hours.”

“I think ye know me well enough to know I have no interest in handing over my mate to ye,” he said through gnashed teeth.

Hearing him say the word mate so naturally stung, but Averill refused to let him see.

“Very well. Option number two. Forget the mate, I forgive all sins and allow her to go free and you”—she placed a finger beneath his chin, digging her nail ever so slightly into his skin—“take your rightful place as a slave in my court. You can be my blood boy. I need a snack every now and then, and if I remember correctly”—she ran a tongue over her teeth—“you taste divine. Although, I must insist on a bath first. I’m not a fan of the wet dog stench.” Averill screwed up her nose and pulled her finger free, leaving a scratch on Bryce’s chin. Averill looked down at her nail, turned her head and licked off the blood, closing her eyes for a moment to savor his flavor. It was better than she had remembered.

“Yes, I think you will make a lovely blood boy. I’m offering you a chance at redemption. So, what do you say?”

“I say ye need to come up with a third offer.”

“The third offer is death, and a painful one at that. But first, before I have you killed, I will send Dante’s dogs to every corner of this earth until he finds your wretched little newborn, and the things I will do to her will make your nightmares seem like sweet daydreams. I will keep you alive long enough to see it, I promise you that.”

Bryce raised his head and smiled at her. Smiled when he had absolutely nothing to smile about. It was a smile she had seen over the centuries. A smile of victory when he won a fight. A smile that showed he had a secret. It was a smile he gave Miranda, but never Averill. “Why do you look so cheery all of a sudden?”

His smile deepened and the dimple that she hadn’t seen in centuries flashed playfully at her. “How about, I make ye an offer. Whit say ye to a chance at redemption?”

“My darling, Alasdair, you are in no position to make such offers. You are in my fortress, where I have a host of supernatural servants at my disposal. A prisoner, surrounded by thick walls and weakened by silver chains.”

She pulled him against her, noting how his wrists were pressed up against her stomach, just fabric between the silver and her flesh. He needed to learn he had no options. He belonged to her and her alone. Grabbing him by his silver collar, she crushed her lips against his. She had waited for five centuries to feel his body against hers like this. He would love her, even if she had to flay the flesh off of him to make it happen.

Bryce pulled his mouth away from hers and slammed his forehead as hard as he could into hers. Averill was knocked back to the floor, but her hands still held the chains, pulling Bryce down on all fours. He looked up at her, the anger masking his features, distorting him into a creature that loathed her. “It’s nae in my nature to hit a woman, but ye took something that belonged to another.”

“We’re vampires, Alasdair! Not bound by some absurd shifter curse—we don’t need to mate for life. You would rather turn your back on your own maker and become this weak creature than do what we are designed to do? I know you battle with right and wrong, it weighs on your heart like a plague, poisoning all that beautiful potential.”

Bryce pushed himself up, standing over her. “I’m nae as weak as ye think.” He raised his hands and pulled his wrists apart, the silver slithering to the floor, then he uncoiled the chains around his neck, discarding those chains as well. His fingers burned from the contact with the silver, but he was already healing. Every part of him was healing.

Averill was up in a flash, her eyes scanning every inch of him for a sign of deceit. “Those chains were tight, I felt them with my own hands, they were burning you—”

“Well, I thought I’d loosen them.” An unfamiliar female voice rang out through the chamber. Averill looked past Bryce to the door where a pretty dark-haired female vampire stood with her hands poised in the air as if she were holding something invisible. A black woman was with her, dressed like a gypsy. She reminded Averill of someone, but she wasn’t sure whom.

“How did you get in here? This chamber is locked.”

“Ol’ blue eyes opened it for us. Of course he didn’t want to, but I was able to talk some sense into him. I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” The woman winked at Averill, causing her to feel rattled for a moment. Had Alasdair set her up?

“Where are my manners? Averill, I’d like for ye to meet Elora, the great granddaughter of Sunniva, a witch I believe who did a favor for ye once.”

Averill didn’t think, she reacted. If a necromancer was in her presence she needed to get as far away as possible. She burst toward the still open door, when it slammed shut. Averill stared at the door in disbelief when her royal throne came zooming past her and jammed itself at an angle preventing anyone else from entering.

Averill turned around to face the dark-haired vampire who placed her hands on her hips. “I believe you were discussing hunting me down, and torturing me… is that right, Bryce?”

Bryce laughed, which caused Averill’s knees to shake. “Aye, ye heard her correctly.” Bryce took a step toward the dark-haired vampire and wound his arm around her waist. “Averill, this is my bride, Victoria. As ye can see, we’re nae hiding from ye.” Bryce looked around the chamber. “But it feels like the rest of the Council might be hiding from us.”

“You think I’m foolish enough to believe that two vampires and a witch can tear down the Order I have been a part of for over a thousand years? You wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on me, and do you know why? Because Dante, Eadgar, and Eadric will protect me. They would rather die than see one hair on my head touched.”

“What makes you so sure they’re still alive?” The way Tori looked at Averill sent chills down her spine. She had already locked up a few dozen vampires for claiming they were possessed. That left her with less protection. Who knew how many Alasdair had fighting for him. This was absurd! Alasdair was an exile. He had no one—yet the look his bride gave her begged to differ. “How about I call my friends and find out?” Tori pulled out her phone and waved it at Averill.

Averill raised a brow at the newborn vampire then turned to Bryce. “What do you want?”

“I told ye, I only want to live out my life in peace.”

“There cannot be peace unless there are rules that are obeyed!” Averill reiterated.

“Oh hush! Y’all know what I want? Averill, be a dear and fetch me those chains.” Elora gestured to the discarded silver on the floor. Averill found her body moving with a mind all its own. She tried her best to fight it off, but she couldn’t. She had no control of her own limbs. She walked—rather quickly—to the chains, picked them up and brought them back to Elora. Why the hell had she done that? She thought. Fucking necromancer!

“Good girl, now take off those gloves and hold out your wrist.” Averill obeyed and allowed herself to be bound by Elora. The silver sinking slowly into her flesh. It was a searing pain, and she loathed her weakness at allowing herself to be so easily reduced to puppetry. Tori reached into her backpack and pulled out heavy chains. They weren’t silver, but Averill, now weakened by the silver, would not be able to get them off so easily. At the far end of the room was a weathered stone statue. Tori used that as the anchor to chain Averill to.

“I hope you are enjoying this, because I know I shall enjoy hearing your screams as your body meets the sun at dawn,” Averill spoke through clenched teeth.

“Not as much as I’m going to enjoy this.” Tori punched Averill square in the jaw, then bent down and grabbed her by the neck. “That was for daring to kiss my man.” She slammed Averill's head against the statue and released her hold on her throat.

“Aye, lass, now that was sexy.” Tori spun around to see Bryce watching, arms crossed and a huge grin on his face.

“You both are fools, and when Dante sees what you’ve done to me, he’ll have the wolves tear you apart and leave your remains to rot in the sun.”

“Bryce, can we gag her? I’ve heard enough,” Tori looked at her mate hopefully.

“Agreed. Elora, ye must have something.”

Elora tore a strip of colorful fabric off of one of her many skirts and shoved it into Averill’s mouth. Averill looked at Bryce, who seemed afraid to breathe and then at Tori and Elora who kept scanning the room. What were they waiting for? She wondered.

Her answer came in the form of a phone call—Tori’s phone to be exact.

“Erin? Where are you?”

With her perfect hearing, Averill was able to pick up the voice on the other end. “It’s not Erin. It’s Dante, and if you would like to see your beloved Derek and his slayer bitch again, then you’ll turn yourselves in. You have five minutes to make a decision, or the redhead dies first.”

There was the sound of a female screaming then the phone went dead.