Detrand

I faced the smoldering house, searching the windows for any sign of my strigoi. The flames licked the east side of the house where the servants generally slept alongside the kitchen, but they were moving quickly towards the rest of the house. It was hell opened up.

I clenched my fists, feeling helpless and cursing the flammability of the strigoi. The King Fae would pay for this and I imagined all the things I would do to him as I ran towards the line of men now bringing buckets of water from the bay. Growling, I took one and splashed it against the wall. It splashed feebly against it and I threw it to the side. This was useless.

The front door was thrown open and Rowan carried Lula out of it. I flew towards them and a wave of joy washed over me as I gathered them into my arms. I held them tight, crushing them close as I breathed in their scent.

Then I pulled back. “Sophie and Adelade?”

Lula looked at Rowan and he turned from her, unwilling to look her in the eyes. “They’re still inside, sir. Adelade went to find her.”

I raised my eyebrow at him, and an uneasiness came over me. I pushed them aside and went towards the front door, unable to stand by any longer.

Suddenly, my whole body was on fire and I fell to the ground in pain. Confused for a moment, I realized the flames were inside me. One of my strigoi was on fire. I moaned, gripping the ground tightly. I tried to crawl towards the door but it began to rain burning bits of roof around me. One of them caught my arm on fire and then Rowan was there with a bucket, pouring it over me. “Don’t go in, sir. Or you’ll burn for certain.”

I was completely useless and wanted to stake myself in the heart, so great was my apprehension burning through me. I cried out, threatening the fae King Orin with every curse I could think of, knowing that I would kill him as soon as I was able.

The fire burning inside me dulled briefly and then became a throb of pain. I stood up and paced the lawn, waiting for anyone to flee from the house. And then one of Sophie’s thralls ran from the door, followed by my Firewitch. She appeared in the doorway like a ray of light, with Sophie leaning heavily on her arm.

As I moved towards them, a hand clasped my arm and I growled, swirling towards the offender. It was King Orin, and his eyes were wide as he stared at my house.

A deep snarl started in my throat. I was going to tear him apart.

He let me go and backed away swiftly, his hands held in front of him. “This fire is not of my making.”

Undeterred, I advanced on him, my fangs extended, and my strigoi senses alight. I could already taste the bitterness of his blood in my mouth, as saliva dribbled down my chin. I jumped and knocked him to the ground, growling.

I bit into his arm harshly and tore a chunk of his flesh from it.

“Detrand, I swear on the life of my Queen, I didn’t do this!” He pushed out a magical wave and I flew back and tumbled into the grass. Recovering quickly, I moved to my knees, crawling slowly, a hunter ready for the kill, until he was a meter from me.

He stood and waved his arms, quickly mumbling his spell and I pounced, pushing him to the ground. A blue flash burst from him and shot towards the house. I turned to stare at it, feeling my rage burn deep inside. When I was done with him, I would stalk his whole kingdom, and they would pay for his rashness.

Suddenly, the fire which was only growing bigger as it consumed everything I owned, hissed and began to diminish. We all turned to stare at it, and even the line of humans stopped what they were doing to stare open mouthed and in shock at it. After a while, it dwindled into smoking flames, as did my anger as I stood up.

He pulled himself up and, dusting off his clothes, he began to turn away. “You’re welcome.”

I gripped his arm tightly. “Who did this, if you didn’t?”

He yanked his arm away, his eyes glowing a bright red. “That is your responsibility to discover, king.” He bowed, a look of scorn on his face. I was tempted to teach him how to treat me properly, but at that moment Rowan called to me. I turned to see that the whole left side of Sophie was charred and I immediately turned my attention to her, ignoring the Fae’s insolence except to call after him to make sure the humans didn’t spread tales of magic.

* * *

I fell to her side, pushing the others aside so that I could inspect her properly. Sucking the air through my teeth, I attempted to pull her crisp clothing off, the heat of it still melting her skin, but she cried out in pain. Unable to cause her more pain I stopped, unsure what to do next.

She was suffering and I knew that death would be a welcome guest. I thought of the past when I discovered her dead body, eyes staring wide at me in the stillness that only death can command. Her hair, dripping wet, spread out and mixed with mud.

“Detrand.” I was ripped back into the present. Her voice was a whispered plea and I was staring at her charred body. Opening her eyes, she blinked at me. “Please, Detrand.”

I knew what she wanted and I shook my head, unwilling to give it. I cried freely, in pain and grief at her suffering unable to bear. “No.”

Her hand, weak and unsteady, raised towards me and touched my knee. I clasped it, remembering the pain of her first death, and how it ripped through my body, tearing me in two, and I shook my head. “All you need is blood, you will heal quickly.”

I placed my wrist in front of her lips. Sophie placed her hand on my wrist, turned her face and pushed my hand away.

“Sophie, you must.”

She stared at Rowan’s feet, silent.

Adelade leaned over me, using my shoulder to balance her, her concern for Sophie showed plainly on her face. “Maybe I could—”

“Adelade, go away.” So close, her blood called to me and I breathed in slowly, my fangs extending. I wanted to tear into her body, I was so weak from the pain of Sophie, one of mine, and needed the fae to renew her magic.

She jerked up. “I just think that—”

I growled and gripped the edge of her pants, even as my strigoi threatened to emerge.

“Rowan, go get the fae. Take Adelade with you and attend to her arms.” They were blistered and red and I knew that we could obtain salve that would dull the pain and heal it with incredible speed.

Rowan dragged Adelade away who was still stubbornly trying to offer her blood to heal Sophie. As soon as they were gone, I looked up at Lula.

“I need you to persuade Sophie to drink or she will suffer horribly, and die.” I looked up into her face now and saw that tears were streaming down her face. “Can you do this for me?”

She hesitated, but nodded. “I can try.”

“Don’t try, Lula. Do.” I stood up and, determined that my presence would only make things worse, I backed away slowly to give her space. Watching from a distance, I mentally willed Lula to convince her. As she spoke softly in Sophie’s ear, Rowan’s large shirt slipped from her shoulder, revealing her bare back spotted with his bites.

“Sophie,” Lula’s voice caught. “You know I can’t do this without you. I need you.”

I closed my eyes now, not wishing to hear her words, and the images of my life with Sophie filled my mind. I rarely called upon these memories for they were painful: the death of my children was still so raw and fresh even after all these years, that the guilt I felt for being unable to help them was a constant throb in my chest. But I opened myself to them now and my daughter’s bright smile entered my mind. My sob caught in my throat and I pushed the memories roughly away; they were still too agonizing.

I couldn’t let go of Sophie, not yet. She was my only connection to that gilded age, of when we were happy and so innocent of the beasts that lurked in the night. And she hated me for it even as she still loved me, even though my betrayal was so thoroughly selfish. I couldn’t give her up, even after all these years, and longed for the only woman I ever loved to remain by my side.

Then her lost soul appeared by my side. Still drenched from death’s ocean waters all those years ago, she stood silently watching Sophie and Lula. The ghost gripped my arm tight in anticipation as we waited wordlessly for Sophie to make her decision, and then she slowly began to fade as Sophie gripped Lula’s wrist to her mouth, drinking.

* * *

I felt a tingle of magic spread over my body and I turned towards the fae Raisa.

She bowed deeply until she touched my feet. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I was busy helping the line.”

I leaned to whisper in her ear so that Adelade who was giving Sophie her wrist now in order to keep Lula from fainting from a loss of blood, couldn’t hear me.

“I could’ve killed her.”

She looked up and faced her. “But you didn’t. And you won’t.”

I raised my eyebrow. “I almost did.”

She smirked. “As I said, but you didn’t.”

Sighing, I gave in to her game. “And why is that?”

She smiled brightly, and I felt her calming presence wash over me. “I cannot answer that because your love for her is yet to be determined.”

She got up to move away and I growled, pushing away the calm her magic afforded me. “I do not love her. She is a curse upon my blood.”

She turned back to me to call out before she moved away. “Funny, she thinks the same about you.”

I looked at Adelade, noting the smears of char on her face and clothing and a strange sense of admiration for her courage to enter the blazing home washed over me. She saved them. “She would be right.”

I looked to Sophie and could see that she was sitting up, and the women were buzzing around her, trying to make her comfortable.

I turned away. Sophie wouldn’t wish to see me now.

A carriage drove up the path and Lily tumbled out staring at the house, her mouth wide open in shock. I made to go to her. I was tired, and my strigoi needed strength. She would do nicely for now. As soon as I began in her direction, Raisa stepped to her and pulled her back into the carriage.

Sighing at the realization that Lily would no longer be at my beck and call, I called for Rowan.

He turned towards me. “Go for Stefano, tell him to bring workers to repair the house. Tell him we’ll pay him double if they complete it within a fortnight.”

He nodded, his body stiff at my direction. As I turned towards the house, I saw Adelade turn to stare at me. I growled and turned away quickly. I held no spark of love for that woman, only a curiosity for her blood that called to me like a siren. I entered the house and, after noting that we would have to throw much of the furniture out, I went down the hallway towards my workshop.

* * *

I opened the door and, smelling only the faint whiff of smoke, I closed it behind me. I went to my project and ran my hands over it, content that it did not burn with the house. It was almost done, and I admired its design.

My thoughts tumbled around me as I determined who set the fire. I believed the Fae King, that he didn’t set the blaze, and even though many of the humans were unhappy with their burdensome tax, I doubted that they would dare set the blaze. If they did, they would suffer as no human had suffered in this town.

My mind grew darker; it must be the shifter. He dared enter my own home and set fire to it. With my family inside. I would reach down his throat, pull out his stomach, and eat it in front of his convulsing body.

He must’ve killed Agosto as well; he could have an evil witch at his command for him to enter Agosto’s room in the night. He would suffer, even as Agosto, with his head torn off by my hands. My strigoi purred at this thought as it emerged, and I planned all the things I would do to punish him for his wickedness.

I had a mind to storm down to the shifter home now but I knew if I did, I may destroy the whole house. No. Myla would bring him to me, I had no doubts of her abilities. But I stared at my creation, feeling the curves of the wood as the darkness of my strigoi took over my body. I would kill the shifter.

Magic burst through the air and I swiveled towards the Fae Queen, overcome with a desire to release my emotions.

“I swear that the Fae had no hand in this.”

I grabbed her and pushed her atop my desk, pinning her down. Her eyes smoldered and she leaned towards me. “I can’t stop thinking of you, ever since I saw you last.”

“Did you return for more?” I ripped her clothing from her and dropped them to the ground, and then I was naked and plunged inside her.

She ran her hands down my body and, even though she was dry, I pushed through and began to pump my hips. I gripped her breasts harshly, pinching and pulling her nipples and she wrapped her legs around me, moving to my rhythm and urging me on with her cries. I leaned over and bit her neck. She withered under me, her nails scratching my back as I bit her body over and over. Giving in to all feeling, I grasped her breast with my hand, bit the tip and pulled her blood into me, even as I released myself into her.

The touch of her blood made me feel warm and fuzzy, and only then did I realize that I’d just bonded myself to her. I yanked her off the desk. “Witch.” I spat her blood to the floor, even though it was too late.

She grinned. “I did so enjoy it, though.” She tilted her head. “And I think you did, too.” She turned quickly towards the door and then disappeared with a whip of her hair against my bare chest.

* * *

I had my clothes on just in time for Myla to crash through the door. “My Lord, I found him.”

I growled and pulled her arm out the door. “Took you long enough.”

“I’ve been searching for him all evening, since you came to me. He wasn’t in his usual places, Lord, and I had to bribe his cousin to reveal his location.”

“You did well then.” I rushed outside with her by my side and commanded my driver to bring out my carriage. I left the driver behind, and took the reins with Myla by my side on the buggy bench.

“Show me where he is.”

She directed me, fiddling with her hands as we went along the road. I kept getting distracted by them but moved forward with swiftness until we came upon an ancient forest, with trees so aged and entwined, that their spirits whispered of long-ceased elf wars that raged the land.

I jumped down and Myla landed silently next to me.

“He’s in there?”

She nodded and pointed towards a small opening in the woods. “We follow the path to a small cabin.”

I gripped her arm, preventing her from moving forward. “Did he burn my house?”

She looked up to me, eyes wide and shaking under my touch. She stuttered her answer, but nodded her head. “His cousin admitted to it. He tried to use witch magic, but it wouldn’t catch, so he had to use the oil from his lamps.”

I nodded. Our house held protections against malevolent magic, preventing the fire that would’ve burned the house in minutes. I growled. If the magic had worked, everyone inside the fire would’ve burned.

I looked at Myla, probing her softly with my senses. She still loved that bastard, and when it came down to it, she would prevent me from my revenge.

I pushed her back into the carriage and locked her inside. “Stay here.”

She cried out, banging against the door, but I turned away from her and went for the trail.