Wicked Soul

Chapter 6

SIX

ALERIC

Something was wrong.

At first, when Aleric had seen his brother attempt to be civilized with the human girl, he’d thought that maybe this meant Warin was finally healing from the darkness brought on by their Sire. That maybe he was starting to lose the urge to m**m and t*****e just for the fun of it, turning his attention to healthier pursuits—such as the warm, wet bliss between a woman’s thighs.

But the expression on his Elder’s face as he’d stood in the clearing in the woods, staring into nothingness… Aleric knew then. He wasn’t healing. He was possessed.

Not like the stories that said a few very strong witches could possess a vampire. There wasn’t magic around him—not that Aleric could detect, at least. But something… something was wrong with his brother, and it had to do with the little blood sack he’d found in that cursed village they’d raided.

In Aleric's entire preternatural life, there had been one constant: Warin. Warin’s strength, Warin’s companionship… Warin’s blood. The same blood that ran through his own veins and tied them together with a bond deeper than death itself. Warin had been his mentor when Aleric was too young to survive on his own, his Father in the absence of the monster who’d turned them both. And later, as Aleric came to mature into his new life, his blood brother. His friend.

He had known him for two hundred years, and this night, as he saw the horror and defeat cross the dark-haired vampire’s features, Aleric knew he was no longer the same.

Something was wrong.

And it tied back to her.

As he followed his brother through the dark forest in a wild sprint, Aleric silently hoped they would find her dead. If she’d fallen into a ravine and snapped her neck, whatever magic she’d woven over his brother would be broken and he would be back to normal.

Or as normal as Warin got. But however feral his blood brother was, he had never scared Aleric more than he had tonight. That look of horror and defeat as he realized this Thea had run… that had scared Aleric more than anything that had come before.

“We’re close,” Warin said softly as he stopped by a tree. A single, long hair was stuck against the bark.

The dark-haired vampire caressed it absentmindedly as he sniffed the air. Eagerness bordering on desperation played across his features, making the sense of unease in Aleric's gut twist. What had that girl done to his brother?

And how?

Warin suddenly jerked, his fingers falling from the bark as wild, unadulterated fury mixed with absolute terror flittered across his face. Aleric smelled it in that same second.

Human males. Unwashed bodies. Dried blood. Her blood.

Aleric followed his brother as he burst through the underbrush so fast he hardly touched the ground.

A feminine scream. Rough laughter.

Warin roared, his rage echoing through the night.

The laughter stopped. Steel sang—a half-drawn dagger.

And then they were there—in the small camp between tall pine trees.

There were five men—bandits, from the looks of them. Thea was on the ground next to the campfire, her wrists tied and blood scabbing on her temple.

They never stood a chance.

Aleric had seen his brother s*******r thousands over the years, all in gruesome ways. He had never seen him butcher with quite this much prejudice before.

Warin was a whirlwind of destruction, ripping off limbs and tearing out throats. Blood sprayed across the clearing, flinging chunks of still-quivering human flesh onto the soiled ground as the humans screamed in terror. Two of them tried to run. They didn’t make it so much as a foot out of the camp before Warin ripped their spines from their bodies.

It was over in less than a minute.

Though the forest had rung with screams and howls only seconds before, silence fell over the camp when Warin tossed the final robber to the floor. Only Thea’s gasping breaths and faint movement from the only man still halfway alive could be heard.

Warin retracted his fangs and sank down on his knees next to the girl. His face was a study in sorrow and regret as he gently cupped her cheek. “I am so sorry,” he murmured. “Where are you hurt?”

Thea stared up at him—at his blood-covered lips and the obvious regret in his eyes. She looked like she didn’t know if she was better off with her attackers gone and the feral vampire crouched over her.

“Just… my head,” she finally said. “You came in time.”

Warin brushed his fingers against her temple with a butterfly-light touch, his eyes zeroing in on the blood there. It wasn’t bleeding anymore—the robbers had clearly only intended to stop her from fighting, rather than kill her.

“Don’t run from me again.” The words were the same ones he’d spoken the previous night, but this time, they came out as a plea, not a command. “I can’t protect you during the daylight hours, and if you run, others can hurt you.”

“Why would you want to protect me? You killed my people. You… you captured me.” She sounded more confused than accusatory. Aleric didn’t miss how she never looked away from Warin’s blue gaze, as if something in it pulled on her. The same way her eyes seemed to pull on his brother.

“I don’t know,” Warin admitted. “But I do. I need to. I can’t hurt you, Thea, and I never will. But I cannot be without you, either. Please. Don’t run from me again.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Who are you?”

Warin didn’t answer her this time. He only folded the fingers not supporting her head around her hands, gaze locked on hers. The look of wonderment on his bloodstained face was clear, even from Aleric's perch by the dying man.

“You need to take her to an Ancient.”

Warin’s responding growl was fully expected, but Aleric held up a hand, stopping his Elder’s temper from unfolding just yet.

“You need to know what she is, Warin. Why she’s making you…” He grimaced and waved his hand. “Feel things.”

“There is nothing wrong with her, or what she makes me feel,” Warin said, voice low.

“I didn’t say there was. But you cannot deny that she has changed you. That she influences you in some way that even you don’t understand. She’s not a regular human, you know that. We need to know what she is to…” Aleric hesitated for a brief second at the look of warning on Warin’s face. “To make sure she’s safe. An Ancient is our best hope of learning more about her and this… connection you have.”

“And who’s to say an Ancient will tell us the truth?” Warin asked as he glanced over his shoulder in the direction Thea had gone. She’d left the camp to bathe in the nearby pond, and the dark-haired vampire had been visibly on edge since she left his sight, even though they could both still hear her.

Aleric sighed. He knew his brother had an ingrained mistrust for the Ancients of their kind. The few vampires who reached the age of one thousand years were considered the ruling power in their fractured society. Each had their own territory where their word was law, and any vampire residing within would submit to their rule or die the Final Death. Their strength was insurmountable, and they’d often gathered more wisdom in their long life than could be found in any royal library across the continent.

Their Sire had been an Ancient.

“Why would an Ancient lie about the girl? The closest Ancient in these parts is the Night Lord of London. He has never even heard of us—he has no reason to trick us.” Aleric gestured toward the bushes shielding the pond from their vision. “If we go to him, he is duty bound to offer his assistance. And we need his assistance, Warin. We don’t know what this girl is or how she will affect you. We don’t even know if she has the lifespan of a human, and since you don’t wish to Embrace her… this twisted little romance of yours might come to an end someday.”

There. He’d played his trump card. Given the way his brother acted at the scuffs the girl had obtained at the hands of those robbers, the prospect of her death was likely the only thing that would persuade him to do the smart thing.

From the look of begrudging defeat on Warin’s face, Aleric knew his plan had worked.

“Fine. But we must be wary—you know an Ancient will never offer his help without a price.”