The Druid Series 9: Baird (A Druid Novel) (16 page)

“I wish to escape here and see my sisters again.”

Altho's eyes soften. “I will try to make it so, though goddess knows you do not deserve it.”

He tows her behind him, moving through the maze of his fortress. He hopes his knowledge of the exit routes exceed those of the Faction.

Siana

Siana paces nervously.

There are fifteen Reapers and only half believe Altho would be a viable substitute leader.

The same half who did not sanction Maghnusʼs death at Baird's hands.

Siana interrupts their dispute, “He was not contributing as he ought.”

A Reaper hisses displeasure, and Baird gives him a look that silences him.

Siana raises a palm. “Hear me.”

The Reapers fall silent. Baird's presence discourages them from harming her, which she is most grateful for.

“
Maghnus did not wish for an alliance between Druid female and Reaper. He wished only for control. Jessamine was of a similar ilk, and now she keeps company with zombies,” Siana says.

“
Maghnus was not as heartless as that old crone,” Carrig says.

Siana nods in agreement. “True. But where does that thin line between what is right and what is most powerful—where is that drawn?”

Tomb-like quiet ensues.
Let them think upon her recounting of the last horrific hour of her life as she fought Maghnus off.

Siana raises her hands. “All I mean is for us to come together and partake in circumstances in our favor. The Druids are here, and though the promise from Jessamine went awry, they are here regardless the circumstance. The result be the same.”

Baird puts his arm around her waist, and Siana fights not to cuddle against him. Her female bits are tender in the best way from his extravagant attentions. She leans into his comfort, feeling a joy she thought to never own.

“
This is
our
time.” Siana makes a fist and catches Imogen's eyes. She smiles at Siana, and Siana continues. “We are leaderless but not powerless. We have a path. We ask Altho to help rule this new order, and we mate.” Siana's eyes flow over the group of Reapers and females. Over Titus. “We bear children who can walk in the light of moon or sun.”

Siana listens to her own heartbeat as no one moves.

Finally, one of the reluctant Reapers moves forward. “I am willing.”

Three more join him, as does Titus.

They note Titus volunteering, and instead of the disdain common from Reaper to Faction, they welcome him with their wordless answer.

One of the dissenters says, “You contacting Altho does not secure his position amongst us as leader.”

Siana turns to him, one of the tallest and hard-faced Reapers. “True. However, if he is asked, and does not desire Maghnus's role, it will have been a moot point.”

The Reaper clenches his fists. “It does not assure leadership.”

Baird frowns, shaking his head. “No. Yet we must exhaust our options.”

Baird appears to dismiss him for the moment, turning to Siana. He grips her shoulders. “Wait for me.”

She stands on tiptoe to kiss him on the mouth.

Siana feels his smile against her lips, and though she is sad, she answers, “Yes.”

Baird follows the others in a convoy of alliance. What will Altho's answer be? What is the nature of Seraphina’s heart in the short time she has been his sexual slave? Is she with child?

Many questions need answering.

Siana makes due with waiting, as is so often the way.

*

Altho

He charges through the catacombs of his lair. Faction have enlarged olfactory senses, and they will rely heavily on that. Altho will rely on stealth and magick. When he was under the Faction’s tender care previously, he had nearly not survived.

His scars are from the time he spent with them. He did not think he would live. If it had not been for the fortuitous distraction of a skirmish between Reaper and Faction, he would have died in slow agony. His escape had begun his relationship with Maghnus that continues to this day.

“
Please, Altho,” Seraphina gasps.

He slows.

“We cannot rest.”

She plasters her palms against her ribs and bends at the waist.

“Just a moment is all I need. I am not accustomed to racing around.”

Altho covers her mouth with his hand, and her wide, mossy green eyes stare at him. Her nostrils flare, trying to catch air.

“Sh,” he says, listening. Altho sighs softly. “They follow closely.”

Seraphina nods.

He pulls her against him and races through the last three doors. Stone steps would slow him, so he leaps over them.

The Faction close in.

One lands in front of Altho, and Altho digs in his pocket. He extracts a rune and tosses it at the Faction, forming a spell as he does.

Fire like lace spreads in a spiderweb of death, capturing the Faction.

Seraphina screams, backing away.

The Faction behind them grabs her, fangs extending for a quick strike.

Altho throws a blade at a creature, who is moving so quickly, he is a smear of color where he was a moment before.

But blood spreads, identifying the Faction.

Altho tosses a second rune, the incantation leaving his lips as he does.

The air erupts in ozone. Three Faction drop where they stand, their taloned hands at their throats.

The other is latched onto Seraphina’s throat.

Altho cannot pull her away; the action would tear out her throat.

Her existence condemns him to protect her. Helpless to stop, Altho charges the last Faction, stabbing in a downward arc as the Faction feeds on Seraphina.

Instead, with the blade hilt-deep in his forehead, the Faction raises off her neck to hiss, blood dripping from his fangs.

His hand wraps the blade, and Altho strikes the flat of his foot into the Faction's cock.

He folds, landing face first. His fall drives the hilt through his own skull.

Altho turns to Seraphina as she bleeds. Altho slides his arms underneath her knees and upper back, lifting her easily.

He throws her over his shoulder and digs inside the pocket of his robe as he does, extracting healing herbs and oil. Flipping her over, he crouches and packs her wounds, one-handed, with the poultice as she lays across his knees.

Altho does not dwell on whether Seraphina will survive the bloodletting. Where some Faction are, others will follow.

He carefully picks Seraphina up, her unconsciousness a blessing, and makes his way out of his fortress.

Altho will travel to the Reaper stronghold.

Maghnus can offer temporary shelter and maybe more. Altho moves with quick deliberation, Seraphina's blood soaking his clothing.

*

Baird

It is a form of torture when Baird leaves Siana after their brief reconciliation. Yet, their last encounter is so much more than solidarity. He will not truly become her mate until they have a ceremony proclaiming Siana his, forevermore. Baird does not wish to rush things without the proper elements in place.

Leaderless and adrift, a mating ceremony would be an awkward insertion into the unstable kiss of Reaper vampire. Better they assign a new leader than make permanent unions in the volatile present climate.

Carrig and Quinn think as he does, which they made clear in private conversation. Baird instructed Carrig and Quinn to stay with Imogen. It is Baird's turn to seek a new leader and brave the wilderness.

Titus is a wild card. None have spoken openly about his role. However, it is clear that none of the Reapers will take to a viable breeder such as Marquette deciding she will mate with a Faction. Though Titus has sufficient blood quantum to entertain shadow travel during daylight, there is no guarantee he will breed true. Then a Druid breeder will be left with a mate who cannot produce daywalking offspring.

Too much of a chance
.

Titus appears to have survived his time with the Faction brave and true of heart. He made no claim on Siana when she and Baird announced their intent to mate.

Baird assumes Titus is both intelligent and a survivalist, as most the Faction are.

Titus would not have been very smart to stake a claim in a Reaper stronghold.

*

Miles are put behind them, and the scenery blends one into the next. In a half a night's travel, they arrive at Altho's fortress. Not as impressive as the priestsʼ or the Druid witchesʼ, it still possesses an austere beauty. The stone fortress rises against the night like stalagmites seeking the sky.

Titus inhales deeply, turning to Baird. “Faction have been here. Died here.”

Baird whips toward him. “Where?”

Titus blurs to a spot around the back half of the structure.

Baird follows.

A spiderweb of charred skin that resembles tossed acid covers one Faction.

Three others are frozen in death, their hands linked around their throats. Their open mouths froth with the poison from their insides.

“Gruesome way to go,” Titus comments.

Baird agrees.

The fifth Faction lays face down. Baird rolls him over. A short dagger is embedded in his skull, dimpling the flesh of his forehead into a crater.

Titus stands from a crouch beside the stabbed body. He flicks the Faction’s fang before he rises.

The fangs appear dipped in ink.

“
He fed... and fed well,” Titus says.

Baird nods at Titus's assessment. It is Baird's as well.

Baird calls to the other three Reapers.

“
We will do a quick search of the holdings and ascertain if Altho and Seraphina remain inside. If not, we move to pursue.”

“
It is obvious there was an attack. But where they went afterward?” Titus shrugs.

Baird nods. “And this Faction bled someone. Altho? Seraphina?”

“They are running wounded, and it is the worst way to travel.”

“
Agreed. It rings the dinner bell for other Faction.”

Titus looks at the full moon. Baird knows when he hits upon a thought.

Baird’s eyes narrow at Titus. “What say you?”

Titus's eyes are vaguely reflective in the moonlight. “Or Were. Though they are careful, fresh blood from a Druid female would be sore tempting.”

Baird does not often consider the Were. Their species avoid one another. However, they seek the same freedoms the Reaper do.

We wish to walk in daylight.

The Were wish to be not prisoners of the moon.

Siana

Siana is Druid queen, a viable female, and on the chasm of becoming Baird's mate, a turnaround she never thought possible.

However, it does not make her popular.

Though it is not directly her fault, Titus's appearance is due in part because of her.

Maghnus's death is also her inadvertent doing. If they cannot mate with her and she brings trouble to the doorstep of their sanctuary, what good is she to the Reapers?

Siana has spent the lonely twenty-four hours since Baird's departure in the company of Imogen, Marquette, and the other nine Druid survivors. Her thoughts stray to Altho and Seraphina.

She thought to hear word from someone or something, but all communication has been quiet.

Imogen takes her hand, and Siana looks up.

“
You are so quiet, my sister,” Imogen says.

Siana nods. “I thought, once I submitted to my role, embraced it—things would come together. When my father departed to seek his soul mate, Lucia, I thought to take his place in a way.”

Imogen sighs, tucking a piece of platinum hair behind her ear. Her pale gray eyes, like the finest shade of pearls, look into Siana’s. “Our row as Druid breeder has never been an easy one to hoe. It is not meant to be simple. Our species is rare and growing more so all the time. If the male priests could have been a true ally, instead of vying for our magick and breeding, all of us could have seen real progression. Instead, they were sickened by their greed of power and control.”

Siana lays Imogen's hand on the banquet table. “It would never be. Sacrificing a Druid gained them their agenda. Our pain was their pleasure.” Siana gives a small shrug.

Imogen nods sadly.

Carrig enters quietly through the arched doorway. The room is cavernous, and one is inclined to speak softly since the stone amplifies words.

Siana stands. “Any word?” Her question tosses about the room in a stark, almost-echo.