Chapter 15

Erin, in shock from what she had done, wailed a war cry, turned and fired the crossbow repeatedly at Dante. The arrows landed in his chest, but he did not falter. Instead, he pulled each one out of his chest and dropped them to the floor as though he were not impressed. “I’m a hybrid, your normal slayer tactics won’t work—they did, however, do a number on your boyfriend.” He laughed again, and even Averill was unable to hide her smile.

Howls started emanating from beyond the walls. “Oh, good. It looks like my pack has arrived.” He took Averill’s hand, smiled sweetly at her and then at the rebels who tried to fight an army that was out of their league. “You should have just surrendered.”

“I would rather die than surrender to ye.” Bryce shouted, the anger causing his body to physically shake as he held Miranda’s only son in his arms. He looked over at Erin who was crumpled on the floor, weeping. The poor girl was in shock. Her arrow had killed her true love. Then his eyes turned to his own love who sat beside the dead Eadgar. Tori had a masked expression. She looked broken and scared.

The howls were getting closer. He wondered if Corbin was with the wolves that were just outside the gate. If she was safe, or just as in danger as they were. He turned to Elora. She looked unsure what to do. She had mentioned to Bryce that she would not be able to control Dante, his hybrid state made him immune to her necromancy. Immune to necromancy, immune to Erin’s arrows. The only guaranteed thing that could kill this creature was Malaric, and he was nothing more than a petrified lump of stone.

Lump of stone.

Bryce’s eyes fell on the structure that Tori had chained Averill to earlier, a very worn looking sculpture.

It was Malaric. Bryce was certain of it.

“Elora,” Bryce said, his voice warm and velvety once more. “I think ye’ve worn that necklace long enough.”

Averill’s eyes widened. She knew that Sunniva had passed down Malaric’s blood to her granddaughter. She tried to cry out, but she couldn’t. Elora had silenced her. She stood like a statue, unable to do anything but watch the events unfold.

Elora pulled the necklace from her neck and turned to Tori. Tori flicked her wrist and sent the necklace hurling against the petrified Malaric. The tiny red stone charm collided with the false statue, but nothing happened. It felt like ages before the rock began to fade into flesh, but after a few moments, the oldest vampire in existence stood before them. Malaric was free. He was thousands of years old, and looked strong and dangerous. His hair was long and gray, as were his eyes, but his flesh was smooth and white as alabaster. He was taller and thinner than Bryce, but stronger by far. He hadn’t spoken a word, but his presence spoke volumes.

Bryce knew he had one chance, and one chance only to win back the favor of the Ancient who once favored him. Malaric’s steel eyes took in his surroundings. He looked at the unfamiliar women in his chamber, Erin, Elora, Tori, and Jasmine. He looked at Eadgar who lay dead, the stake still in his heart. He looked at Averill who did not move and Dante who appeared far stronger than when he had last seen him. Finally, Malaric’s eyes rested on Bryce. A veil of silence settled over the room as all eyes turned to see what he would do. Bryce broke the spell by lifting Derek in his arms and carrying him over to Malaric.

Bryce laid Derek at Malaric’s feet and bowed. “Master,” Bryce began. “I lived for three hundred and fifty years in yer service. My mate, Miranda, was falsely accused by Averill and presented to the sun. Then I was taken in chains, exiled from England, and lived across the sea. There I lived alone, wi’ out any of my kind. I made a life for myself, and after one hundred and fifty years, found another mate.” Bryce paused for a moment but didn’t move. Malaric was listening and for now that was enough.

“Averill has seen my actions as treacherous. I have been charged wi' breaking her laws. Wolves were sent to take me and my new mate before the Council. I was taken in as a prisoner. This vampire I place at yer feet was the only son of Miranda, his name was Derek MacKenzie. He believed in peaceful relations among our kind, nae a monarchy that kills their own for sport. My blood flowed in his veins. He gave that blood to many, who all believed in his cause.”

Bryce reached out and squeezed Derek’s arm. His body was cold, and hard as stone. He let go and continued his plea.

“It was never my intention to rule, but I did believe in his fight. So if ye want to charge me wi’ treason, I accept yer consequences, and yer punishment. If ye want to keep me alive and serve ye as I once did, I shall nae question it. If my fate is to meet the sun, I shall walk out at dawn wi’ out the need of yer wolves to bring me to the platform. There is one request I ask and that is…” Bryce paused, praying his wish would be granted... “I beg for mercy for the lives of my mate and of my clan.”

“No! Bryce!” Tori cried out and ran to him, falling to the floor and weeping beside him. Her blood-soaked tears streaking down her face. “Please, I beg you. Show him mercy.” Tori ran her trembling fingers over Bryce’s back.

“I have heard more than I wish to hear, and seen more than I have wished to see,” Malaric spoke, his voice low.

“Averill, you were my beloved, and you betrayed me. You fell in love with a vampire who did not return that love and you spent centuries torturing him. I may have been petrified, but I was able to see and hear all that transpired while you ruled in my name. Elora.” Malaric turned his attention to the witch in the room. “Please release your control of her so that I might hear what she has to say.”

Bryce turned to Elora and nodded. She sighed and let go of the binding spell she had placed over the villainous vampire.

Now it was Averill who looked like her world had been shattered. “Master, I watched you for centuries shower Alasdair with love and praise. It was the way you once looked at me. Together, Alasdair and I could have been your favored ones. We could have expanded your empire and stretched the hand of your kingdom around the globe. He cared more for a whore than for you, Master. Everything I did, I did in your name.” Averill bowed low, then looked at Malaric with her blue eyes and most innocent expression.

“And how do you explain sealing me in a stone prison? Averill, you have always placed the interest of yourself before me or the vampires that carried our blood. You used Eadgar and Eadric like toy soldiers to satiate your thirst for blood.” His eyes fell on the dead body of Eadgar. “And now they are at rest.” Averill looked longingly on the body of Eadgar.

“When Alasdair refused you, your tantrum called for more blood. And when I refused to seat Dante as a member of the Council, you found a way to imprison me. I have watched you both—” anger flickered across Malaric’s eyes as he gritted his teeth and said, “There are wolves in my home. Wolves.”

Averill took Dante’s hand in hers. “We have made a new order. One that shows change and progress.”

“The old ways are just a memory, I suggest you let that memory fade,” Dante said, his arrogance skating across the room.

Malaric walked over to Dante. “Call off the wolves.”

Dante’s lips curled into a grin. “No.”

“No?” Malaric looked at Dante curiously, then plunged his hand into Dante’s chest and wrapped his fingers around his heart. Averill screamed in horror and lunged at Malaric who swatted her off like a fly. Dante began coughing up blood, the veins around his eyes constricted in shock. “Call off the wolves,” Malaric repeated.

Dante’s eyes rolled back into his head. He was communicating with his pack telepathically. Then his eyes returned, looking weak and tired. He choked out the words, “It’s done.”

Malaric agreed, “Yes, it is.” He removed his hand from Dante’s chest, his fingers still wrapped around his heart. Dante’s body fell to the floor with a thud. Averill crawled over to him, her hands and knees raking through the blood of her mate that now seeped rapidly in a pool across the floor. She cradled his head against her chest and wailed as she rocked his body that was now turning to an all too familiar ashen grey.

Malaric crossed the room and handed the heart over to Elora who took it in her trembling fingers. “I wish to return to sleep. I’m taking Averill with me. I trust this is enough to secure the spell?”

Elora looked at the heart in her hands. The heart soaked red with the blood of Dante. The blood that carried Averill and Malaric embedded in its crimson stream. “Yes, this is all I need.”

Malaric looked over at Bryce. “I trust you will rule this land in a way that I never could. As I leave this place, you now become the oldest living vampire.”

Bryce stood up and took Tori’s hand to help her up as well. The reality of what just transpired had not hit home yet. He took a gamble in releasing Malaric, and in an unlikely twist of fate, his gamble paid off.

“I am humbled by whit ye have bestowed upon me, Master.” Bryce lowered his head in reverence.

Malaric placed a hand still stained with the blood of Dante on Bryce’s shoulder. “I am no longer your Master, Laird Galloway. What I am is a tired immortal that no longer seeks immortality. This is your kingdom to rule as you see fit. I shall be watching, but I have faith that this time I will not be disappointed.”

Malaric turned to Tori and placed his cold lips on her forehead. “Be his strength, for the road ahead will not always be easy. And never crave power more than love.”

Elora approached, the heart of Dante swaddled in her skirts. “It’s ready.”

“Then I am too.” Malaric walked over to Averill who continued to sob and kiss the body of her dead mate. Bending low, he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. She whimpered but didn’t fight him. Averill had finally admitted defeat. Malaric returned to the position where the object they mistook for a statue had been and stood quietly. Averill lifted her head and looked one last time at Bryce. “I did love you, Alasdair. Even if my actions did not reflect it.”

Bryce did not respond, but instead listened to Elora chant softly over the heart, separating the blood of the ancients and calcifying them forever. Averill turned her head away from Bryce and in one final movement, buried her face in Malaric’s chest. Malaric closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of Averill’s head. And that is how they would remain.

Forever.