“Ah, the young Waldlitch brother returns for another night at my court. Do you care to join us for supper?”
Aleric glared at Zet as he made a sweeping motion with one arm toward a naked woman lying atop a sarcophagus, eyes wide with fear and chest heaving despite her complete stillness. She’d been Compelled to endure in silence as every vampire, save the Ancient himself, feasted on her blood dripping sluggishly from a multitude of bite marks.
“I wish to speak with you in private, my lord.” His voice only narrowly avoided tipping into insubordination. “Urgently.”
Zet raised an eyebrow at his tone. His second in command, the raven-haired Verawein, lifted her head from the human’s weakly spasming wrist, undoubtedly in hopes of seeing her lord put a foolish youngling in his place, but the Ancient only sighed.
“Ah, the impatience of youth. Vera, my dear, if you would be so kind to deal with any urgent matters while I am gone?”
Verawein bowed her head, but Aleric didn’t miss the calculating look she sent him as Zet turned to lead the way out of the catacomb where he held court.
This time, Zet didn’t use the hidden exit, but walked along the same corridor his subjects used when entering his domain. He led Aleric to the ground floor of the church and into a modestly decorated chapel off the chancel, locking the door behind them.
The Ancient turned to Aleric, arms crossed over his chest. “Well?”
“You killed her!” Aleric hissed. “That was not part of the deal! Warin, he’s… he’s not himself. I fear he may end his life over this! Over that… human!”
“I distinctly remember how last we spoke, you worried the girl would get your brother killed, should she stay with him,” Zet said softly. He lifted his hand to study his fingernails. “How he had changed since he came upon her, and no longer seemed to act rationally. I believe your exact words were: ‘I would give much to have her vanish off the face of the Earth.’”
Aleric gritted his teeth against the rage churning in his gut. He could still feel his Elder’s distress echo through their bond in painful waves. “I didn’t mean to fucking kill her!”
“Yes. You did.” Zet finally looked up and straight at him, his golden eyes flaming with all the power of his age. His voice was no longer gentle. “You cannot lie to me, youngling. Were you truly so foolish to believe I let you drink from my witch out of the goodness of my heart? I know all your desires, Aleric. Every urge for power, and every shameful fear that that human girl would take your brother from you.
“I granted your wish. I eliminated what you perceived as a threat to your brother. So, tell me, why are you not groveling at my feet with gratitude? Could it be ridding Warin of his soulmate did not provide the outcome you desired?”
Aleric bared his teeth. Zet had his witch put a spell on him while he’d been busy reveling in the power of her blood. Of-fucking-course he had. Hadn’t Warin warned him of the trickery of Ancients? And still, he’d been naive enough to accept the gift of magic-fueled blood from one, and had lowered his defenses enough to let a fucking witch put a spell on him.
He stared at the Ancient’s smirk as he watched him much like a cat would eye its prey. Aleric had to be careful—he was already too entangled with this treacherous creature. But Warin needed help. He didn’t know how much longer until his brother would realize the hopelessness in catching the spark of a several hours old corpse. And once he did…
“Please, my lord. My brother requires help. I know we are not of your territory and you have limited obligations toward outsiders, but you are the only Ancient on the Isles.”
Zet stared, unblinking. “His soulmate is dead, Aleric. I may be powerful, but even I cannot undo this. What do you wish for me to do to aid your brother? I cannot turn back time.”
“Your witch—she is strong,” Aleric said quickly, desperation fueling him. “I’ve heard stories… Can she—“
Zet lifted a hand, interrupting him with a dark eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Can she animate the corpse of your brother’s beloved? No, youngling, I am not so foolish as to keep a witch with that kind of power alive. Besides… even if such a witch could be procured, it would be for naught. She would only animate flesh and bones—the girl’s soul is gone.”
Aleric clenched his fists, wracking his brain for an answer. There had to be a way. He couldn’t lose Warin—not now, not ever. His desire to secure his Elder’s undead life was why he’d wished the fucking human gone in the first place. “If your witch cannot bring the human to life, can she make him forget? If he can’t remember her, he can’t miss her.”
It was the deepest betrayal. He knew that. Asking a witch to put a curse on his blood brother—if Warin ever learned of his desperate request, he would tear him limb from limb. But if it could save his life, Aleric didn’t care.
Zet looked intrigued. He cocked his head as he regarded Aleric, golden eyes narrowed. “Now that… That might be possible. But there will be a cost. Are you certain you wish to add another favor to what you already owe me? I do not take debts lightly, and I will collect.”
Add a debt to a favor he’d not been asked. Aleric gritted his teeth. He had no choice—the Ancient had played him into a corner. If he rebelled against his demands, Warin would die.
Aleric bent his head in submission. Clenching his fists until his knuckles whitened, he said, “Yes, my lord. I am certain. Help me ensure Warin lives, and I will gladly repay any debt you wish to claim from me.”
* * *
The witch lay motionless on the bed when they entered her darkened room, but at the sound of their entry, her eyelids flickered open.
“Twice in as many nights?” she murmured. “Has ruling lost its appeal, my lord, since you seek out my company over your loyal subjects’?”
“While your delights certainly are intriguing, little dove, I am not here for my own entertainment. I believe you may recall our friend from last night?” Zet asked as he motioned for Aleric to step forward.
Marie sat up, her dark eyes roaming over Aleric's frame with a not entirely hostile gleam. Had he not been so desperate to save Warin before he lost his mind to sorrow, he would likely have returned her interest. As with most vampires, his feedings were usually followed by other desires, and witch blood had proven potent in more than one way. By the time they were done, Marie had seemingly forgiven her Master for forcing her to tell Warin what Thea was.
“Back for seconds?” the witch purred, tilting her neck back in teasing invitation.
“Our friend is in need of your help. He wants to know if you can alter memories,” Zet said, seemingly unfazed by the swell of her breasts and her creamy neck.