Conquer the Darkness Page 8
Another shudder started to race through him, only to be halted as Rainn reached out to grasp his hand. Immediately, a delicious warmth chased away the chill. Ulric arched his brows. Talk about a magic touch.
He didn’t know if his intense reaction was a result of her innate talent or just a response to the feel of her soft, welcome touch. And right now he didn’t care.
He squeezed her fingers, shoving aside his distraction with his father. He needed to concentrate on where Brigette was leading them.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his cousin. But…
He swallowed a sigh. Since entering his childhood village, he couldn’t deny a gnawing sense of horror. He’d expected the place to be trashed. Demons rarely left behind more than rubble after an attack. They killed, they plundered, and they torched the place to the ground. And with his pack dead or captured, there was no one to return and rebuild.
But there was more wrong with the village than being pillaged five hundred years ago.
Evil.
The word whispered through the back of his mind.
Just a couple hours ago he’d been eager to dismiss Rainn’s claim that Brigette was connected to her mysterious quest for the Oracles. How could a member of his family be evil? It was unthinkable.
And yet, with every step deeper into the burrow, the knot in the pit of his stomach twisted a little tighter.
Instinctively he tugged Rainn closer as the tunnel opened into a small cavern with a ceiling low enough to touch the top of Ulric’s head. The gloom was even thicker in here, but Ulric could see a heavy wooden trunk that was open to reveal a collection of fragile scrolls. He could smell the age in the papyrus, and something else. Blood. Ancient blood. A low growl rumbled in his throat. These had to be the scrolls that had fascinated his father.
His gaze moved toward Brigette, who had halted at the back of the cavern. It was only then that he noticed the skeleton that was propped in a shallow alcove that’d been chiseled into the wall.
Ulric wrinkled his nose even as he heard Rainn’s breath rasp between her teeth. As immortals, it was always unnerving to consider death, but that wasn’t the cause of his outrage. Demons’ physical forms naturally disintegrated if they died. Vampires turned to ash, fey creatures turned to sparkles that danced through the air, and Weres would burst into flames until nothing remained. It was a necessary part of their transformation back to the primeval spirit that created them. Only human bones would remain standing in the alcove like some gruesome tourist attraction.
“What is this place?” he muttered.
“A temple.” Brigette waved her hand in a grand gesture. “My temple.”
He studied the female in confusion. “A temple to what?”
“Magic.” Brigette shuddered, a mysterious smile playing around her lips. “Can’t you feel it?”
Ulric paused, reluctantly reaching out with his senses. A mistake. He’d already been acutely aware of the strange stench that clogged his nose, and the heavy air that pressed against him like a death shroud. But now he could feel the unseen tentacles that crawled through the cavern, brushing against his skin and leaving behind a trail of…
“Evil,” Rainn whispered.
Brigette’s smile evaporated as she pointed a finger in Rainn’s direction. “You stay out of this,” she snapped.
Ulric stepped forward, hiding Rainn from Brigette’s view. “This isn’t Were magic,” he said.
She sucked in a deep, slow breath. “It’s a gift from the earth.”
He shook his head. No gift from earth smelled like decades-old garbage that’d putrefied into a noxious stew.
“Whatever this is, it doesn’t come from nature,” he said in disgust.
Brigette held Ulric’s gaze, her eyes smoldering with a strange glow. It wasn’t her wolf. He could barely sense her animal. As if it’d been leashed so tightly it was being strangled.
“It’s power,” she rasped.
“Blood magic,” Rainn murmured, so softly the female Were couldn’t hear her.
Ulric frowned, his attention focusing on the bones that were propped in the alcove. The hair on the back of his neck bristled. “What did you do to the human?”
Brigette offered a dismissive shrug. “Nothing. The skeleton was here before I entered the burrow.”
An unexpected fury blasted through Ulric. As if it’d been waiting for the opportunity to explode.
“My father would never have done this. He was a male dedicated to peace.”
“Of course our alpha didn’t kill the human. That would have taken a backbone.” Brigette looked disdainful. “I found the bones behind a pile of rocks. I thought they must be connected to the power that I could feel pulsing around me, so I hid them to keep your father from removing them from the burrow. He was too cowardly to understand the greatness that was beckoning.”
“You mean he wasn’t willing to trade his soul for power.”
“I mean he was weak,” Brigette hissed, holding up her hand. “Don’t glare at me, cousin. I heard your arguments with your father. You felt as stifled as I did in this backwater.”
Ulric’s anger remained, but now it was directed at himself. He would give everything he possessed to take back the ugly words he’d hurled at his father.
“I was an arrogant ass,” he muttered.
“No, you were right,” Brigette insisted. “We were secluded from the world. I could almost feel the moss growing on me.” Her jaw tightened. “It was even worse after you left. There was no one who could understand I was being slowly smothered.”
“Why didn’t you leave?” he demanded.
She sniffed, her hand lifting to cover her face as if hiding her tears. “My father was a traditional male. He considered me his property, to be traded to the highest bidder.”
Ulric’s brows snapped together. His uncle could be a stern, demanding male. And he might have held the opinion that his sons held more value than his daughters. But he would never have sold a member of his family. Not for any reason.
“Bullshit.”
Brigette dropped her hand, revealing dry eyes and a mocking smile. “That might be a little overdramatic, but he did threaten an arranged marriage.”
Ulric wasn’t amused by her act of the abused daughter, although he did believe her this time. For centuries the Weres had struggled to have children. They’d tried everything to create a new generation, even trading sons and daughters to neighboring packs in the hope that an injection of new blood would be the cure.
He’d heard the new king, Salvatore, had managed destroy the malevolent demon responsible for their lack of pups. He hadn’t, however, tested the theory.
“You could still have left,” he pointed out. “You weren’t being held prisoner.”
“I thought about it. Instead, I started sneaking down here.”
Ulric grimaced as he glanced around the gloomy space. It might please a vampire. They liked anything dark and dank. But werewolves preferred wide-open spaces where they could breathe fresh air.
“Why?” he asked.
“I wanted to know what your father found so fascinating.”
He glanced toward the trunk. “The scrolls?”
She gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I searched through them, but they were all a bunch of mumbo jumbo. Some sort of ancient spells.”
He turned, glancing toward Rainn. “Can you sense who created them?”
The zephyr’s eyes were a stormy gray as she allowed her magic to swirl through the air. Instantly the nasty tentacles clinging to his skin seemed to dissipate. Ulric released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“There are dozens of different species,” she at last said. “Fey. Druid. Were.” Her brows lifted in surprise. “Even dragon.”
Ulric understood her surprise. Demons could barely get along with their own spe
cies, let alone other creatures. There had to be an epic reason for them to have gathered so much magic together.
“Why are they here?” he asked Brigette.
The female Were hesitated, then her jaw tightened with anger. “It took a while, but I eventually discovered that they were bound to the human’s blood,” she grudgingly revealed.
Ulric frowned. “How?”
“Sacrifice.” Rainn was the one who answered his question, glaring toward Brigette. “This place isn’t a temple. It’s a tomb.”
He didn’t bother to chastise Rainn for her sharp, accusing tone. There was something weird going on. And it was becoming increasingly obvious it had some connection to his cousin.
He took a step toward Brigette. “Why were you down here if you couldn’t read the scrolls?”
“Because I could feel the power,” she said. “It whispered to me. Even in my sleep.”
“What power?” he pressed.
Brigette waved her hand in a vague gesture. “I didn’t have a name for it. I only knew that it promised me the opportunity to break the shackles that were keeping me from my destiny.”
Her destiny? Ulric narrowed his gaze. Had the female Were always been so melodramatic? The truth was, he hadn’t paid attention to her when they were younger. He’d been too self-absorbed.
Just one of his numerous failings in the past.
Now he studied his cousin with an unwelcome sense of dread lying heavy on his shoulders. “What happened the night we were attacked?”
Brigette glanced away. A sure sign she was about to lie. “You know as well as I do.”
Ulric shook his head, his mouth dry. “It was no accident you happened to be safely hidden in this burrow when the horde overran the village, was it?”
Brigette tried to look outraged by the question, then abruptly she released a shrill laugh.
“Perhaps you aren’t as stupid as your father.”
Ulric stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Brigette flashed a taunting smile. “He caught me down here more than once. Thankfully, he was too obsessed with researching his precious scrolls to do more than warn me to stay away.” She snorted. “As if he was my boss.”
How dare she insult his father? Ulric latched on to his anger. It was easier than accepting that his only remaining relative was a psycho bitch.
“He was your alpha,” he growled.
Brigette leaned forward, her heat adding to the oppressive sense of smothering in the tight quarters.
“He was a coward who had no idea how to lead,” she sneered. “And my father was an even greater coward for following him.”
“You thought you could be a better alpha?”
“Of course,” she said without hesitation.
Ulric made a sound of disgust. “Then why didn’t you challenge him? That’s the way of werewolves.”
“Because I found a better way.”
“There is no other way—” Ulric swallowed his protest as he caught sight of the fevered glitter in Brigette’s eyes. Was it caused by the strange power she claimed she could feel? It had to be. “My father sealed this burrow because of you,” he breathed.
Brigette didn’t deny the accusation. “One day he snuck up on me talking to—”
“Who?” he demanded as she cut off her words.
“Myself,” she muttered. “The idiot thought he could keep me out with a stupid curse, but it was too late.”
Ulric glanced around. She was lying. She’d been talking to someone. But who? It was impossible to hide someone in this space. Unless…
Had whoever, or whatever, she’d been talking to already escaped from the burrow? He balled his hands into tight fists. The thought made him want to smash something into itty, bitty, tiny specks.
“What did you do?” he demanded. She turned her head, as if unwilling to meet his accusing glare.
“What was necessary,” she muttered.
There was a stir of the thick air as Rainn stepped beside him. “She’s responsible,” she said, her gaze locked on Brigette.
His expression was puzzled. “Responsible for what?”
“She destroyed your pack.”
Ulric slowly shook his head. He had to accept that there was something wrong with Brigette. Something he wasn’t sure could be fixed. But that didn’t mean he could blame her for everything.
“She never left the village,” he protested. “How could she have brought a marauding horde to this isolated spot?”
Rainn clicked her tongue. As if he was being unbearably stupid. And maybe he was. He was still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that in less than forty-eight hours, he’d found a long-lost cousin, followed her to his destroyed village, and was now being forced to accept that this wasn’t going to be the sweet, soul-healing reunion he’d been aching to enjoy.
His brain felt like it’d been stuffed with wool.
“You were gone from here for years,” Rainn pointed out. “How do you know she didn’t travel to find demons who would help her?”
His lips parted, but before he could argue that no self-respecting Were would ever align themselves with a bunch of nasty orcs and trolls and goblins, he was struck by a sudden thought.
“The shrouded form,” he murmured.
Rainn glanced around. “Here?”
“No, in Vegas. Brigette was traveling with a companion who was wrapped in a heavy shroud. The two of them disappeared through a portal.” Yet another blast of fury raced through him. Gods. He’d been so blind. “You were right. Her arrival was a trap,” he said between clenched teeth. His gaze returned to Brigette. “Why such an elaborate ploy? Why not just talk to me at my casino? Or better yet, just call me?”
Brigette hesitated. Was she debating whether to try and pretend she was innocent? Then a smirk settled on her face. Clearly, she was delighted with her own cleverness.
“I needed you to follow me here,” she told him. “If I had contacted you out of the blue and asked you to come, you might have been suspicious.”
“Traitor.” Ulric bared his fangs, but before he could lunge forward, Rainn was stepping in front of him.
“What purpose did you have in bringing Ulric here?” she demanded of the other female.
Brigette kept her gaze on Ulric, seemingly indifferent to his searing rage. Was she too stupid to realize he could rip her to shreds?
“Your father might have been a coward, but he was clever,” the female mocked. “After I broke through the curse—”
“How?” he snapped.
Brigette frowned. “What?”
Ulric clenched his fists even tighter. Dammit. He couldn’t allow his anger to cloud his mind. He needed to know what had happened to his pack. And Brigette was the only one who could tell him. “How did you break the curse?”
She scowled as if annoyed by the question. “I have powers.”
Rainn snorted. “It must have been her partner,” she taunted.
“Shut up.” Brigette flushed, as if Rainn had struck a nerve. Then, sticking her chin at a defiant angle, she returned her attention to Ulric. “After the curse was gone, I assumed I would be capable of commanding the magic that should be mine. It was only then that I realized your father had layered a protective spell on the doorway.”
“What doorway?”
“The doorway to the magic,” she said, as if her words made perfect sense. “He thought he’d outwitted me, but no one was going to stop me. No matter what I had to do.”
“You contacted the horde,” he said, the words a statement, not a question.
Brigette shrugged. “I was more of a conduit.”
Ulric released a slow, shaky breath. He couldn’t deny the truth any longer. This female had deliberately massacred her own family.
And for what? Power? Pride? His stomach heaved.
“Gods. Why not just kill the alpha?” he snarled. “Why destroy the entire pack?”
“It’s your father’s fault. Everything is his fault. Including the death of his precious pack.” Brigette sulked as if she were a petulant adolescent, not a full-grown Were.
Ulric’s wolf surged against his skin, struggling to be released. It no longer considered this female as his cousin. Or even pack. She was the enemy that needed to be destroyed.
His human side was equally outraged. But he didn’t allow himself to lose sight of the fact that he still needed information. Something that would be a lot more difficult to attain if Brigette was dead.
“You’re batshit crazy,” he muttered.
“It’s true,” Brigette hissed, tossing back her long, shimmering red hair. “He must have realized I was becoming desperate and that I was plotting to get him out of my way.”
Ulric felt a pang of guilt. Why hadn’t his father told him what was happening? Didn’t he trust him?
Then Ulric swallowed a sigh. In his youth, he’d been hot-tempered, stubborn, and impulsive. How could his father have depended on him not to overreact?
If he’d been the sort of son who was capable of…
No. Ulric slammed the door shut on his bout of self-pity. Later he’d torture himself for his childhood arrogance. Right now, he had more important matters demanding his attention.
“What did my father do?” he demanded.
Brigette’s lips tightened. “He attached the spell to someone else.”
Spell? Ulric furrowed his brow. She couldn’t be talking about the curse. She’d already said that she’d broken through that. So what magic was she talking about? “What sort of spell?”
She shrugged. “A protective shell that encases the scrolls. I’ve tried everything to destroy them, but nothing has worked.” She sent him a jaundiced glare. “And worse, he bound the spell to someone in the pack.”
“Attached it to who?”
“I had no way of knowing.” Her lips twisted into an ugly smile. “So everyone had to die.”
“You,” Rainn abruptly breathed, turning to face him. “It’s attached to you.”
“Yes,” a female voice whispered behind them.