The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

His eyes are still closed.

Harnessing every last bit of will, I flare my vampire senses out to try to get a feel for his state. A bit of confusion hits me when I realize it is no better than before. If anything—it might be worse.

Does that mean that so little time has passed? Or that they could not truly heal him, only delay the inevitable?

A sharp crack on the side of my skull whips my head one way. I growl, unused to being so handicapped in such situations.

Probably the most beautiful of the three witches regards me with stunning—but storming—eyes.

“You put up quite a fight when you were unconscious,” she whispers, using her actual voice to speak. “We did not expect such trouble out of you. You have more strength than you know.”

“I’ll remember that next time you try to ambush me,” I snap. “Who are you? What’s your name?”

“I am Allura. My sisters are Sute and Lorne.” She shakes her head, then looks away. “How could you have chosen your own brother’s death?” she wonders.

“You have no idea who we are,” I hiss in retort. “Don’t you dare pass judgment.”

She shifts in derision. “In a different life, I may have admired such sentiment,” she says. “But seeing what I’ve seen, being trapped in that place for as long as I have, it changes your perspective on the world.”

“And where exactly were you trapped?” I ask, finding that—against my better judgment—I am enjoying a conversation with one so pretty.

“The Demon Realm,” she answers nonchalantly. “Which is what you rescued us from.”

My brows furrow together in consternation. “That’s impossible. All I did was give you blood.”

“Yes. Your blood restored life to our crumbling bodies, thus fulfilling Eleira’s promise to us.”

I want to know more about that, but her voice has a tone of finality to it.

“So, what did you do with him?” I ask, turning my head toward my still unconscious brother.

The witch flashes me a silky smile. “Oh, that? We established a one-way link between you and him. He draws on your reservoir of magic to stay alive.”

“What?” I demand. Frantic, I scramble to grab hold of the Elements—and find that I cannot. “How dare you take away my freedom like that?”

She laughs in a delighted sort of way. I change my mind immediately about her—I feel nothing but contempt and hatred for this vile, evil creature.

“You will have your powers back once your brother heals,” she says softly. “That is—if he decides it is the right thing to do.”

“What the hell do you mean, if he decides?”

“I told you. This is a one way link. The power to end it lies wholly with your brother.” Her lip twitches up in a forced, crooked smile. “You better hope he doesn’t find out how you were ready to throw away his life.”

I struggle against the invisible bonds, but I know it’s no use. For one, my vampiric strength is nowhere near its full potential. I’m operating at maybe ten, fifteen percent. Two, without the ability to cast magic, I am as helpless as a newborn pup against actual witches.

None of that sits well with me. I vow then and there, that upon these witches, I will exact my revenge.

“Oh look,” she tells me. “He is starting to stir.”

Grudgingly, I force my eyes toward my older brother.

I notice the strengthening heartbeat first. It is, of course, still feeble. But much better than what it had been a minute ago.

The wound in his shoulder has stopped leaking blood. His body is still stained with it, of course, but I think the actual wound has finally closed.

The witch holding his head slowly pushes him up. By the time his upper body is vertical to the floor, his eyes flutter open.

It takes a long time for awareness to come to them. But when it does, he gasps and pulls away.

I chuckle. What a feeble reaction for a vampire of the Royal Family.

“Less spooked than you were,” the witch beside me notes.

I grit my teeth together and hold my tongue.

Raul’s eyes first go to the witches around him. He seems to take their presence as a matter of course. Eventually, those eyes fall upon me—and when they do, he surges up.

He moves with speed I thought would be impossible for one in his condition. One second, he’s on the dirty floor, far, far away. The next, his hand is closed around my windpipe, squeezing hard. It’s like he didn’t even bother with the space in between.

“You,” he growls.

There’s something different about his tone—there’s an edge there, one unlike any I’ve heard before. It doesn’t scare me so much as excite me—Is this the Raul I always wanted my brother to become?

“Release him!” the witch nearby commands. Before Raul has a chance to comply, a powerful blast of Air hits him square in the chest and sends him flying backward.

There, the other two witches move to hold him down.

“You will not do anything to harm your brother,” they tell him. “He is the only reason you are alive!”

“He is the only reason I was in a position to die!” he spits. He struggles against their grips. “Let me at him!”

He breaks free of one of the witches, then the other. Again, at lightning speed, he launches himself at me.

Halfway to me, he freezes mid-stride. His eyes bulge out in confusion. I see the witch beside me moving her hands around themselves in an intricate pattern. Slowly, Raul is lifted in the air.

The witch near me steps forward. “You will not undermine what we did by saving your life. What sustains you now is not the vampire essence, but Phillip’s own magic. You kill him, and you die. It’s as simple as that. You knock him unconscious, from where he cannot channel magic, and you die. Understand?”

The hold of Air around Raul’s head loosens, enough for him to give a grudging nod.

“Good,” the witch announces. She sets him down.

He dusts himself off with all the dignity he can manage.

I snicker. Perhaps this arrangement isn’t quite as bad as I first thought.

For one, I truly hold power over him.

The witch turns to me. “I trust you understand the implications of this as well?”

“You’ve rendered me powerless,” I say flatly. Purposefully, I add a touch of bitterness to my voice. “My own fledglings sapped me of the vampiric force, then transferred my magic to Raul.”

I do not want to give away the fact that this arrangement could be very beneficial to me in the end.

“The link is one way. But if Raul were to die before he relinquished control of your reservoir, it will disappear as well.”

A bit of shock runs through me. “What?”

The bonds holding me dissipate, and I am free. I turn on the witch nearest me. “What do you mean by that? What kind of damned black sorcery did you do?”

She laughs. I get the feeling that she’s toying with me.

“No black magic here, Phillip,” she says coyly. “But what better way to ensure you two don’t kill each other on the way back? Raul, your life is tied to Phillip’s. Phillip, your magic is tied to Raul’s life. This way we are ensured peace. At least temporarily.”

“Some peace,” Raul scoffs. His bitterness is palpable.

I fix him with my most beguiling smile. “Don’t tell me you’re not thankful for the sacrifice I made, brother.”

“It is by your hand that I nearly died!”

“You provoked me.”

Raul grunts in disgust, then turns back. “So you are the Forsaken Sisters,” he says to the two witches behind him. “Eleira told me what you did for her. For that, you have my full gratitude.”

“You will take us to her now,” the one at my side pronounces. I get the clear feeling that she is the leader of the group, now that they’ve done away with the uncanny synchrony.

Raul tenses. “You have my gratitude,” he repeats stiffly, “but I am not your servant. You are my brother’s fledglings. The hierarchy takes precedence over all.”

Unfazed, she simply steps toward Raul and spreads her arms. “Then tell me where your hierarchy places me based on strength.”

Raul concentrates for a moment—and then staggers back, as if he’s been slapped.

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