Lord of the Vampires (Royal House of Shadows #1)(43)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Nicolai. Nicolai, you have to snap out of it.” Jane’s voice, closer, in the present, frantic and fearful. “Someone’s coming. Nicolai, please. Wake up.”

Please.

He released the past completely, allowing his mind to snap back into focus. He’d hurt her enough already. And, as she had feared, he would lose her again. The spell he’d used had not disrupted the very first spell cast on her. The one that would force her to lose her lover. Nothing could disrupt that spell, and none Nicolai had tried had brought her back to him. Until he’d worked with the first.

He’d brought Jane here, bound her body to his, on the condition that she leave him when—if—she fell in love with him.

So, he could keep her, as long as he prevented her from loving him.

“Nicolai.”

The present. Yes. He heard footsteps. A lot of them. Booted. Spears scraping against the ground. Power saturated the air. Laila, definitely. With her army? Probably.

Different emotions warred for dominance. Fury, elation, anticipation, hatred, anxiety. Nicolai wanted to attack, to kill, but that would place Jane in jeopardy, and that he wouldn’t do. Ever.

He jolted upright, a blur of motion. Jane had already pulled on her robe, was ready to go.

“Come.” He grabbed her arm, and jerked her away from their camp.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NICOLAI DRAGGED JANE through the forest, branches slapping at him. She was limping again, and he wanted to carry her, but Laila’s guards must have caught his scent, because the echo of their footsteps increased, and the sense of magic intensified in the night air.

They were closing in.

He could have moved from one location to another with only a thought. From here, back to the withered, perverted kingdom of Elden. His heart clenched in his chest, and he gritted his teeth. Now was not the time to think of his home. Or the condition of his home. Or his parents, and the sorcerer he would soon destroy.

What if he disappeared, but Jane did not go with him? She would be left on her own in an inhospitable environment, the enemy all around.

Damn this. He had to try something. He’d managed to beat the flood of memories back, but they were knocking at his mind, demanding release. If they overtook him again…

He focused on what was most important. He and Jane shared a past he’d barely touched on. One she still couldn’t recall. What he knew was that he wouldn’t repeat his previous mistakes.

He needed that book, the one in Delfina. Had to write something more inside of it. For when she left him. Oh, gods. Yes, that meant he would be operating under the assumption she would love and leave him, but he had to plan for the worst. Maybe, just maybe, a new spell would bring her back.

Elden had not planned for defeat, and look what had happened.

“Nicolai,” Jane panted. “I’m used to jogging, but this is like Extreme Jogging, Jungle Edition, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep up. Can we rest?”

He heard her. Distantly. Tried to concentrate on her, but the darkness was closing in on him, another memory fighting its way free.

All his life, he had absorbed the powers and magic of others. What they could do, he could then do. That was how he’d formed the air shield inside the palace. The Queen of Hearts had done so; therefore, he had done so, too. And that was why Laila had forbidden anyone from practicing their craft around him.

Some abilities lasted days, weeks. Others lasted a lifetime.

He’d remembered most of this already, so of course his mind tried to shove it aside to make room for something else, something new.

“Nicolai. Please.”

He couldn’t lock on her. More details unfolded. His ability to cast illusions, as well as move from one location to another with only a thought, had come from a witch. A lover who had tried to kill him as he lay sleeping. She had wanted to become his bride, but he had wanted only the sex. She’d tried several different identities with him, amusing him.

He’d never told her that he knew who she was, each and every time she approached, because he recognized her scent. He’d let her continue to come to him, and every time he’d made his intentions clear. Still she’d tried, hoping to change his mind. When she realized she could not, in any incarnation, she finally attacked.

One moment Nicolai was leading Jane through the forest, the next he was inside a bedroom. His bedroom, he thought. The one in his memory, with the homicidal witch. He did not realize the switch soon enough and slammed into the wall, propelling backward. He hit the floor with a black curse.

Jane was nowhere to be seen.

Nicolai popped to his feet, his blood flashing hot. He would return to the forest, now, now, damn it, now, and if anyone had touched Jane…

He remained in the bedroom.

Fangs bared, he spun, looking for the way out. Blood stained the walls, crimson splattered in every direction. The floor possessed deep grooves, each in patterns of four, as if multiple swords had been dragged over it and had cut into the wood.

The giant, hairy creatures, their legs—four on each side—sharp and deadly. They had been here. They had come for him.

Nicolai had been pumping into a woman, a servant. His door had flown open, and he’d heard the screams echoing from below, in the great hall. He should have heard them sooner, but his partner had been screaming, too, distracting him.

Nicolai had reached for his blood daggers, the ones he kept on his nightstand, intending to fight the monsters, wondering about his family, but he’d…disappeared, falling straight into a winding black hole.

Had his siblings died alongside his parents? Or fallen into the same hole? He remembered curses around him, echoing.

Now he stopped breathing. He hadn’t wanted to remember this, not yet, but… Was he certain his parents were dead? Was there no longer any question in his mind?

He didn’t need to think about it. Yes. He was certain. They were dead. The knowledge practically seeped from the mold-covered walls around him. He hadn’t seen them die, but he’d felt the drain of their life forces. They were gone.

Oh, gods. And his siblings?

No, not dead. Now that he knew what to check for, he could feel their energy swirling inside him still; only, the energy was…different than before. Were they trapped somewhere? Unable to free themselves? Probably. Otherwise, Dayn would have destroyed the Blood Sorcerer and reclaimed the palace.

Dayn and his ability to hunt anyone or thing. Micah, sweet baby-faced Micah, would have been running down the halls and laughing. Breena would have been trying her hand at magic, messing up her spells.