Epilogue / Preview
Candles flickered, casting hard shadows over the ancient stone walls of the Shaw temple. A light mist clung to the air and the scent of rose oil tickled the senses.
Silvie emerged from the darkness and entered the dimly lit cavern. The natural, mystical hot spring bubbled and gurgled in excitement as if it knew what was about to happen.
Change. Everything was about to change.
“You spared the vampire.” The Shaman’s voice echoed through the halls.
She bowed her head. “Yes.”
“Why did you go to him?”
I love him, her heart cried, but she didn’t dare speak the words. Not to him, not to anyone besides Gannon. She had to tell him how she felt, he deserved to know before…
“The future has become clouded,” the Shaman mused.
Silvie kept her eyes downcast, her head bowed as he walked past her.
“Would you know anything about that, my dear niece?”
“Decisions have not been made, paths have not been chosen.”
“By him or by you?”
She flinched. “I vow on all that is, your plans will be done.”
“Good.” He stifled a harsh cough.
She heard him enter the water. Tiny splashes sounded with every step until he settled within the shallows.
“You are a gifted, talented, and powerful witch,” he wheezed. “But you mustn’t allow emotion to rule you. Your judgement must remain clear. Your purpose is your focus.”
“Yes, uncle.”
If only her tribe had listened to his sage advice over ten thousand years, she wouldn’t be standing her now waiting for the planets to align her life as she knew it to end. The ancient Shaw had been rash and fueled by hatred when their High Priestess, the Shaman’s daughter, had been found, murdered, drained of her blood. They cursed the human men that had greedily sought the immortality she’d carried in her veins and vampires had been brought into this world. There was nothing that could be done to undo the cure. It could only be amended.
“It is almost time. I feel the universe shifting. Come.”
Silvie stepped forward. Clutching the bone bowls to her chest, she knelt beside him. He hadn’t removed his gray robe when he’d entered he spring. He sat, his arms stretched wide over the edge of the pool, the water lapped at his chest.
“Prepare,” he rasped before an uncontrollable cough seized him.
She placed a bowl beneath each of his wrists and withdrew the enchanted blade from her robe. The sheath was plain, worn leather, the knife itself was crude and jagged.
When he’s lungs finally calmed, he huffed, “It’s time.” He waved to the weapon. She didn’t hesitate to hand it to him.
“Yes,” she sullenly replied.
“Please, my niece, forget the vampire. For your sake and his, you must end your feelings now.”
I’ve tried. I’m still trying.
“I’ve waited eons for this moment,” he sighed. His head tilted back and stared up at the cavern’s ceiling as if he were gazing upon the heavens. “To finally be done with this world. To reincarnate no longer.” He drew the blade across one wrist then the other. Tiny droplets hit the water, changing it from a cool blue to a fiery red.
She helped the Shaman find the bowls, his blood quickly pooled. “You know what you must do?” he asked, his voice low, weak.
“Yes.”
“I’ve faith in you. I trust you will do all that is right and just.” His voice began to fade. “Take my magic and know that it is freely given. Cultivate my power and be a better leader than I.”
Silvie sat silently as his blood overflowed the bowls. She knew the moment his soul released from his body. She felt the delicate warmth brush her cheek before disappearing.
Taking in a deep, shuddered breath, her mind blank, she took up the bowl closest to her. With shaking hands and pounding heart, she raised it to her lips and began to drink.
It was sweet, like pure liquid sugar, and powerful. With every swallow, she felt the magic rush into her. Her thoughts flashed and flickered as memories upon memories of the Shaman’s past lives bombarded her.
She took up the second bowl and…she hesitated. Strength flooded her, tightened every cell, pain whipped through her like a firestorm, but instead of destroying it created.
Her gut twisted, threatening to expel the blood. She couldn’t be weak. She wasn’t weak. She’d vowed to see to the Shaman’s commands and she would.
Silvie brought the second bowl to her lips and drank. Deeply. She needed all of his knowledge, all of his strength to combine with her own.
She collapsed, the bowl fell from her hands. Curling into a ball, she rocked back and forth. Her stomach contracted and she heaved. Blood dripped down her chin, seeped eyes and trickled from her ears. Images, memories, incantations, emotions, thought, none of her own all converged within her. The pain and endless cycle as her she struggled to process, to filter. Her mind breaking, her sanity a breath away from shattering, a single thought of her own surfaced. Gannon!
***
Gabriel played the piano. The music soft, gentle, everything the vampire was not. Well, except for with his mate. Jordan was curled up on the chaise, notebook and pen in hand writing lyrics. The scene was…so damn domestic. Normal. Sweet.
Gannon rubbed his chest as that familiar yearning stabbed him. How much he wanted a relationship like this of his own. Gabriel was truly a changed man. Jordan’s presence, her love was slowly healing his old wounds. So much so, Gabriel had given his chest full of horrors and asked that he bury the skulls somewhere unknown, claiming, “I’ve carried these memories for far too long. It’s time to let go of the reminder.”
The clock struck and the steel shields began to lower over the windows. Another night gone. Another night closer to the end of the Sequester. Tomorrow the Shaw Priestesses would return to their tribe and hopefully Silvie would respond to his request for an audience.
The king cast a heated glance to Jordan. She smiled, shook her head and kept working.
“Have I inspired you?” Gabriel asked. “Are your writing a ballad to describe my handsome looks or my sexual prowess?”
Jordan rolled her eyes. “I’m almost done.”
Gannon stood and stretched his arms over his head. He wasn’t tired, but the sun was rising and he had nothing better to do than seek his bed. Besides, he would lay odds that Gabriel and Jordan were about to get carnal and he’d be tossed out on his ass any minute.
“I believe that’s my cue. I’ll see y’all later.” As he left he called over his shoulder, “Practice safe sex. And, Gabriel, no means no.”
Jordan laughed and her mate glowered. Oh, nothing lighted his spirits like giving his old friend a hard time. Well, besides seeing Silvie. Whenever she was around he soared.
Damn it, he’d have to toss another two chips into the jar. No, three chips? He’d drop all the chips in his pocket in the jar for safe measure.
He left Gabriel and Jordan’s suite, took the elevator down a level stalked to his room. The air trembled a moment then settled. His guard triggered, he pulled his Glock and cautiously entered his home. The scent of magic and blood was like a taking a baseball bat to the head. Staggered, he tried to focus on the source. He crept through the darkness, passed the kitchen, the living and dining room, and hesitated outside the bedroom. He shut down his senses, stilled his heart, his lungs, and tightened his grip on the gun.
Gently easing the door open he stepped inside. On the floor, at the foot of his bed was a red velvet robe. It trembled and low, heart wrenching groans of pain whispered from it.
“Silvie!”
His body slammed into action. Holstering the weapon Gannon lunged forward and slid across the hardwood on his knees. Gathering her in his arms, he tore at the robe she’d wound tightly around herself. She…smelled different. Her magic felt different. She was stronger. She was—His eyes flashed black, his fangs cut his tongue as they forcefully punched from the sheaths. She was covered in blood.
Instantly, his hands flew over her body checking for injuries. He found none.
“Sweetheart, what’s happened?”
Her black hair was streaked with shades of blue and purple and when her eyes opened his bit back a curse. White. They burned white as lightning. Blood smeared her heart shaped face, stained her ears, her neck.
“Silvie, tell me what to do.”
She reached up and stroked his face. “Gannon. I-I need you.”