The Druid Series 9: Baird (A Druid Novel) (17 page)

Carrig nods.

“Altho and Seraphina have been sighted from the high tower. They come from the north.”

Siana rushes forward, but Carrig captures her before she can move through the door.

He shakes his head. “No, you cannot go.”

“
Why not?” Siana asks.

Carrig sighs. “It is high noon. The sun reigns supreme.”

“I can move in daylight. Let me meet them. One or both might be injured.”

Carrig hisses, “You shall not leave here. Baird would have my head on a lance—literally. You are too important to risk, even for another breeder.”

Siana tears herself out of his grasp.

“
Siana!” Imogen shouts.

But Siana is running for the large entrance. Her safety be damned. Their possible future leader and one of her own lay in the vulnerable open. Surely they need assistance.

Siana does not pause, blurring toward the solid wood exit.

She will climb it bare-handed if she must.

*

Baird

Baird and Titus have a vigorous discussion about following Altho and Seraphina, but in the end they decide, though they can both tolerate shade and shadow, there is naught point in pursuing those who need protecting when they can offer none. It might be their luck to find the pair, only to afford no assistance because of the sun's reign.

They reluctantly bed down, but Baird cannot rest. His thoughts are all for Siana. What does she do with her time whilst he is chasing his own arse?

He tosses and turns atop the thin blanket and exhales in angry frustration.

The soft sounds of the other warriors’ breathing tell Baird he is the only one plagued with thoughts which will not leave him.

“Your concern will not ease you,” Titus says.

Baird startles.

He smacks the flat pillow beneath his head. “Shut up.”

“
We will rescue the Druid sorcerer or not. We will save a precious female
or not
. Those things are out of our hands. What we
can
do right now is get sufficient rest. However, I find I cannot for the constant turning of my bedmate.”

Baird sits up, facing Titus. “You are alive only because of Siana.”

Titus’s eyes are mercury discs in a hard face, a seasoned one. “I am alive because I did all the things I did with deliberation. I am Faction—we survive.”

Baird tenses. “Are you saying that everything you do is falsehood?” He readies himself for whatever presents itself from the Faction who he has become complacent with.

“Settle yourself, Reaper. It was to my advantage to couple with Siana. Our party was small. It is the way of the Faction for the fittest amongst us to survive. Killing the Faction she did not, fucking her, then assimilating into a new group—it was deliberate and necessary.”

Baird glowers at Titus. “You are opportunistic. Nothing real matters. There is no code of honor, no long-term thoughts.”

Titus gives a low laugh. “We are vampire. You live in a land of dreams if you think we can take a higher road. The only path for us is the one that allows us to survive.” He leans forward. “Why do you think the females matter? We could fuck human women to spread useless seed if we wish. No”—he blinks and utter darkness is in his gaze—“the Druid females offers sustainability. Do not accuse me of being lesser because I do what will perpetuate our species.”

“
You are not Reaper,” Baird says.

“
You are right, I am not a pure-blood Reaper. I am Exotic, Reaper—demonic. Maybe even some human mixed in there. But what I do know: I am hungry and loyal. It will have to be sufficient for you. If I have to fight every Reaper for position within Maghnus's stronghold, I will.”

Baird sighs, suddenly dejected. “Maghnus no longer lives.”

Titus inclines his head. “But another will take his place. It is the way of it.”

“
True.”

Titus spreads his hands. “Have we come to an understanding? I grow tired of revisiting this same line of speech.”

“For me?” Baird says, cocking an eyebrow. “Yes. Though with the long-standing feud between Reaper and Faction, there might be others who need more.”

“
Agreed. However, many of us had no choice but to seek asylum with the Faction. We were of mixed-blood and not welcome with either the
rogue
or Reaper, though we held partial genetics of both groups.”

“
I will try to reason with my brothers. We need all the able-bodied warriors we can get. And there might be benefit to having a Faction ally when their groups come calling in the future. After all, you have intimate knowledge of their thought processes.”

“
I do,” Titus says without a hint of reproach.

“
It is settled then. For now, we work as comrades. When we return to the fortress, we move forward.”

“
What if Altho cannot be saved? Or”—his eyes light on Baird—“worse, is he denies the offer of leadership?”

Baird watches the sun bleed through the cracks of the stone, the approach of twilight heralding their pursuit of the Druid pair.
Finally! I am crawling out of my skin.

“
Then we face greater things than your assimilation.”

“
What?” Titus asks.

“
Fight for dominance.”

*

Seraphina

Seraphina dreams she is underwater. The large ball of the sun is a circular flame of beauty above the water.

She sinks lower, and the hot ball grows cold.

“
Seraphina!” someone calls as though from a distance.

Her eyes open. The sun is overhead, but instead of the ball in her unconsciousness, it is shattered by the canopy of trees. Sparkling sunlight shimmers above her, and she instinctively lifts an arm to shield her eyes.

But her arm does not move as she commands it.

A handsome scarred face fills her vision.

“Seraphina, look at me.”

She forces her eyes to cooperate, finding his. The male she thought to dispatch through distraction.

That seems utterly ridiculous now. “I am cold.”

Fingertips press against her neck where the puncture wounds are and it burns.

“Hurts,” she says.

He nods. “You almost died.”

Seraphina nods. She is a Druid witch, and though her strength of magick relies mainly in the sexual, she has felt the thinness of the veils between the world of death and life.

She knew one foot stood in this world and her body in the other.

Altho slides a hand behind her back and sits her up.

Her vision swims.

Seraphina's head rolls into the side of Altho's neck. His strong pulse is all that anchors her.

Slowly, her vision sharpens, and Seraphina sees a wood surrounding them. She feels the deep bark against her back and Altho's arm around her, smells his male smell.

“You saved me, Altho.” Even to her, the words sound puzzled.

“
Yes.”

“
Why? I have wrought nothing but danger and treachery.”

A long pause fills the silence with portentous weight.

“I love you, Seraphina.”

She closes her eyes, relief washing over her, and regret. “You cannot. It is simple thrall I have cast through our coupling. It is not real.”

He nods above her head. “I thought so at first. Then I realized it cannot be.”

Silence.

“I am as Druid as you,” he says. “My lineage defeats the magick of yours. Our magick cancels out that of the other. I feared for nothing.”

Seraphina cups his strong jaw, thumbing the lightest part of the scarring. “I am sorry.”

And she is.

Altho's arms tense around her. She jerks a little in surprise, searching the minute change of his expression.

His gaze is on the line of the forest.

The trees appear to be moving.

Yet they are not. It is bodies moving seamlessly from trunk to trunk.

Seraphina's heartbeat ticks faster once she recognizes this newest threat.

Werewolves.

Siana

Pools of light shatter the huge foyer of open stone as Siana sprints into the open. Light sears her skin. Though she is fully Exotic and Druid, she is also vampire, and it is uncomfortable.

Carrig yells from the shadows, “Do not! Siana, I beg you—”

Siana ignores him, scaling the studs on the inside of the door. It is twenty-feet tall, meant to breach the moat when lowered. Her feet use the metal teets as though she is scaling rocks in a cliff.

“
Siana!” Imogen cries from below.

Siana climbs without looking down. The high tower is to her left, and a Reaper mans it. The entire thing is shrouded with sun filters. He is trapped. Siana moves higher. Reaching the top of the tower, she swings over the highest of the sharpened points, whose ends have been bored into the stone wall. A small ledge accommodates just her feet.

Siana turns to see five Druid sisters watching her, the full Reaper contingent clinging to the shadowed corners.

I'm not winning any favors with them.

“I will return,” she says.

“
Return to us,” Imogen calls out. Though in warning, condemnation, or promise, Siana is unsure.

She turns toward the ground below.

Like a great bird, Siana dives from the ledge, arms outstretched. The wind licks her as she falls. She takes the landing as she always does—hard. The impact on her legs is the worst, but she has learned to bounce and roll.

Siana lands on the embankment leading to the moat, and she rolls toward the brackish water, the swampy smell filling her sensitive nostrils. Siana clutches the grass that grows thick along the sides and pulls herself up to the edge.

The moat loops the fortress and she races around the outside edge. As the straightaway begins to cant to the left she flings herself across the circle of water.

She lands better this time and closes her eyes, breathing deeply of the scents.

Her nose lands upon one she knows.

Seraphina.

Siana gauges her surroundings for a moment, then takes off running in the direction her nose tells her.

Though Altho is scarred from some past mistreatment by an enemy, she feels he was a competent sorcerer. He is respected amongst the Druid witches who have contact with him. Siana did not like the loss of Seraphina's freedom, though it was better it be with Altho. Perhaps, with the right invitation, Altho could find a place amongst the new order and would have a better selection of Druids.

Of course, that means a Reaper would go without a mate.
The numbers are not equal between Reaper and Druid. It will always be a rub.

Siana frowns as she runs, branches whipping her clothing as she sticks close to the shadows.

Siana feels there will be some advantages afforded the new leader. If Altho would concede being the leader. He is Druid, not vampire. His pact is with Jessamine, and a later one with Maghnus, now deceased.

His answer is not certain.

Siana makes good time, moving into a small clearing where the scent of her Druid kin is strongest.

However, there is no joyous reunion.

Siana sees werewolves slink closer toward a pair who can only be Altho and Seraphina.

Fangs punch out of her mouth.

Siana knows what to do with this species.

*

Baird

Baird is somewhat better off for his conversation with Titus. Titus is not the ill-mannered Faction stereotype Baird assumed. Rather, Titus is a survivalist who saw an opportunity to progress his immortal existence. It does not change how Baird views the Faction as a group. However, hope that he did not have before might be the way of the future. If one Faction is reasonable instead of a pirate of every resource they both need, there might be more.

It is a beginning.

*

Altho and Seraphina have a solid head start. Having been able to move in the daylight, they have a twelve-hour lead over Baird, the Reapers, and Titus. Baird assumes Altho might seek the council of Maghnus simply because of their former engagement and the Reaper fortress being the closest to his own.

Yet Baird cannot be cocky in his assumptions. Altho might travel in a different direction entirely.

Titus is a superb tracker. Of dubious Reaper lineage, he manages to catch scents like a blood hound.

Baird grins, thinking of it. Baird is pure-blood and not half so good at tracking.