Page 13 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Unfortunately, Hecate returned with Varu and intercepted the death magic Khent had aimed at Rolf.

“You bastard.” Rolf would have attacked had Varu not ordered him to chill the fuck out.

“Just for the record, I was kidding,” Valentine said, staring at Varu in awe. “He’s got to be the patriarch, right?”

Khent nodded. “Yes. Varujan of the Night Bloode, may I make known to you Valentine Darkmore, necromancer and ally of the traitor, Talon Goldwing?”

He noticed her slight wince at the term “traitor,” but the description fit. In truth, Khent wasn’t bothered that Talon had tried to poison both Riley and Kraft. If the nachzehrer had been so weak as to die from a lying shifter, he deserved to end.

Riley had, of course, proven her worth.

“Valentine Darkmore.” Varu studied her. “You don’t seem like much.”

“Thanks,” she said drily, but Khent could scent the fear she couldn’t hide. She had a modicum of intelligence after all.

He must have given something away, because she turned to him, her eyes fiery, and snapped, “Something funny, reaper?”

“That’s Master or Lord Khent. And yes. I find you vastly entertaining.”

She gritted her teeth.

Varu watched their interaction, clearly amused though he didn’t show it. Khent had gotten to know him well enough to read the stoic strigoi’s mini tells, however.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to pretend he didn’t want to deal with Valentine. Because Varu had a habit of being contrary. “I have work to do in my lab. Can we get this over with?”

Hecate frowned. “This is our priority right now, Khent. Not your lab.”

Varu directed his question to the human. “What is this new threat?”

Valentine glanced at them all—Hecate, Rolf, Khent, and Varu. It had to be overwhelming to be surrounded by so many dangerous predators, but she stood determined.

“A mysterious individual named Spectre has been moving around the city for years. He leaves a very small footprint, but we’ve been watching.”

“We?”

She nodded. “I have a network of spies in the bazaar and the city. The problem with Spectre is that no one has ever seen him.”

“And Spectre is the necromancer we’re looking for?” Varu asked.

“I believe so. I knew him as Vladimir the Wicked a long time ago, when he amassed power by killing necromancers all over the world. Twenty-three years ago, he killed my parents and an entire flock of shifters. Now he goes by Vladimir of the Void, or so I’ve been told.”

“And you haven’t managed to kill him after all this time?” Rolf sounded disappointed in her.

“It’s not that easy, draugr.” Valentine shook her head, and Khent saw a hint of defeat in her posture he didn’t like. Unlike humans, vampires didn’t question themselves. They didn’t know fear, and when they experienced loss, they accepted it and moved on.

In a vampire’s life, there was no room for sadness or self-doubt.

“Every time I got close, he vanished,” Valentine continued. “As if he knew he was being tracked. He’d disappear for years on end. I did my best to get more powerful and make friends so I could build a dead army that could go up against what he’s creating.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Varu asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s something big. When he popped up here a few months ago, I felt his signature. The problem is, Vladimir’s been using glamours and spells to disguise himself. I only know his current guise because he killed a witch who saw his face.”

Khent approved. “You reanimated her for the information.” Something he often did with his own pets.

“For her information and for her power. Though a new witch, she’s full of magic. She’s currently protecting my shifters, so try to take them on at your own peril.”

Varu rubbed his chin, but Khent saw the smile he tried to hide.

“A challenge?” Khent studied her, more than willing to battle her for real.

Valentine didn’t meet his gaze when she answered, “You can take it however you want. I need everyone I’ve gathered to help me fight him. You have no idea how strong he is. Even for a non-vampire,” she tacked on, finally glancing at him with those deep, dark eyes.

“We are powerful,” Varu said. “That is not and never will be in question. But we are also intelligent. This necromancer is working with demons. We need to know why.”

“For power, why else?” Rolf asked. “Humans are always wanting more than they deserve.” He smiled at Valentine. “No offense.”

She rolled her eyes.

Varu growled, “I want to know why we can’t find him. Duncan’s been trying, but this Spectre has avoided him. And that takes skill.” Varu studied Valentine, his gaze intense.

She took a subtle step away from their patriarch and closer to Khent, surprising him. Valentine cleared her throat. “I’ve also heard rumors that there’s a substantial reward being circulated in the bazaar about a certain gem.”

Hecate perked up. “Our last stone?”

“I don’t know.” Varu nodded to Valentine. “What say you, human? Is your necromancer trying to find a legendary Bloode Stone?”

“I don’t think so. But then, I don’t know why he killed my family or why he wanted to kill me. I do remember him asking about a gem though, maybe the same one someone has been looking for. An old ring or necklace? My mother had a talent for imbuing jewelry with magic.”

Khent and Varu exchanged a look.

Hecate asked, “Are you sure you don’t remember what it is he’s searching for? Perhaps we could take a peek inside your memories.”

“No.” Valentine didn’t hesitate. “My mind is my own.”

Instead of pushing the issue, as she should have, Hecate relented. “Of course. What else can you tell us about this Vladimir?”

“I consider him a master in necromancy.”

“Master’s not the correct term,” Rolf corrected her. “We have master vampires, supreme witches, grand mages, and alpha lycans and shifters. But necromancers fall into a special category.”

Khent agreed. “He’s right. We normally refer to them as sovereigns.

But since your kind is rare anymore, the term’s faded from use.

” He thought about it. “So he’s powerful.

He’d have to be in order to create hellspawn from berserkers and hellhounds.

What can you tell me about the blight stick stolen from the apothecary? ”

Valentine frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Hecate shot him a sharp look. “What are you talking about? What blight stick?”

“The witches in the apothecary reported a theft right when the dark fae and hell-threader attacked. I think the skirmish was a clever diversion so someone could steal their reproduction of the Staff of Blight. But I don’t know why a copy would be valuable.”

“Whose staff was it?” Varu asked.

“The original belonged to Nergal, god of pestilence and plague.”

“And war, death, and the Mesopotamian underworld,” Hecate added, sounding thoughtful.

Rolf snorted. “Sounds like a fun guy.”

“He’s not.” Hecate shook her head. “He’s a huge pain in the ass. Worse than Hanbi.”

“We sent him back to Irkalla.” Varu and Khent shared a smile. That fight had been delightful. Varu, Khent, and Kraft had fought the evil lord of the Mesopotamian underworld while Orion battled a demon god to save his mate from becoming the demon’s next sacrifice.

Fun times.

Rolf glared. “Thanks a lot. You stuck me on that stupid island fighting regular monsters while you got to battle Hanbi. I’m still pissed about that,” Rolf growled before brightening into a blinding smile. “Huh. We fought Hanbi. Now we’re getting ready to take on Nergal.”

“That’s just speculation,” Hecate said.

He ignored her. “Nergal. Yet another underworld demon lord, god, jackass—take your pick. Seems like Mesopotamia’s all the rage lately.” He winked at Valentine.

She stared in disbelief. “You guys fight a lot of underworld deities?”

“Our share,” Varu murmured and cocked his head, the way he did when the Bloode Stones inside him spoke. Khent used to find it odd. Now he considered it no more than a quirk.

Though he’d never bow or agree with everything Varu told him without questioning it first, Khent appreciated having a powerful strigoi as a ruler and felt no shame in following his lead.

“Don’t you find it interesting that the underworlds keep colluding with demons and darkness to create chaos?

” Rolf asked, watching Valentine, as if she had the answers.

“It’s almost as if Hecate’s Darkness That Comes knows something we don’t.

It” needs the power inherent in the liminalities.

” The draugr smiled at Valentine in a manner Khent didn’t appreciate.

As if Rolf found her a tasty treat he had a right to indulge in.

Which he didn’t.

Valentine was Khent’s prey.

“Rolf.” Khent didn’t say more.

He didn’t need to.

Of all the vampires in their clan, Rolf and Khent had partnered together the most often. Though very different, they worked well collectively, in sync. Rolf would know Khent had staked his claim.

“Very well. But you won’t like the outcome. I’m telling you now. Give her to me and save yourself the headache.” To Valentine, he once again apologized. “No offense.”

“Headache?” She scowled. “You know what? Offense taken.”

Khent shook his head, containing his amusement, no longer annoyed since Rolf had conceded.

Rolf sighed. “What the hell? No one ever listens to me. Do what you want.”

Varu crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you finished rambling?”

“I suppose. But dibs on any corpses after Khent gets them. I need a boost for the spell I’ve been working on.”

“Corpses?” Valentine asked. She turned to Khent. “Not my bodies.”

“What’s yours is mine. Isn’t that what they say?”

“What who says? I worked hard for that power. It’s mine.”

Khent smiled, having, dare he say it, fun, yanking the human’s chain. “You can keep them if you can hold on to them. But I’ve yet to meet a human who can best a reaper.”

“Look, you, I—”

Varu cleared his throat. A mass of power settled over the room.

Hecate scowled at the floor. “Fix this. I have someone calling for me.” She vanished.

Everyone stared at Varu.

“Well?” Khent asked. “We’re waiting, oh glorious leader.”

Rolf snickered, not at all fazed.

Valentine appeared ready to bolt, a scared rabbit needing a good place to hide.

“Don’t worry, Valentine Darkmore,” Khent said, keeping his voice soft. Threatening. “I’ll protect you.”

“Scared?” Rolf teased her.

“I’m not stupid. Of course I’m no match for a master vampire’s power.” She studied Varu and took another step closer to Khent. “Plus, he’s amped up on something.”

“You sense this?” Varu stared at her with interest.

Staring at Khent’s prey.

With a sneer in his voice, Khent said, “I’m still waiting. Get on with it, Varu.”

The strigoi smirked at him. “Ah, of course. You’re eager to serve me.”

Rolf burst out laughing. “Whatever helps you sleep the sun away.”

“Seriously. A little full of yourself, eh, strigoi?” Khent scoffed.

Varu play-hissed, baring sharp fangs, something he never would have done before he’d mated his pretty dusk elf.

To Khent’s surprise, Valentine moved so close he felt her heat against his back.

Varu didn’t comment, though he raised a brow. “Fine. Rolf, go find out all you can about this Staff of Blight. Khent, you and your new pet need to get us something on Spectre we can work with. Stake out the bazaar and those shifters your human seems so fond of.”

She said, “I’m not his human,” at the same time Khent said, “She’s not my human.”

Varu talked over them. “Duncan, Kraft, Orion, and I will continue working on the few leads into our missing stone. We’ll be out of the city for a while, so keep an eye on Onvyr. I’ll be taking Fara with me, and I don’t want her brother thinking he’s free to do whatever he likes.”

“Onvyr? Seriously?” Rolf whined. “He’s a colossal pain.”

Varu just looked at him. “No killing the elf while we’re gone.”

“Well, hell. Why do I even bother living? You guys get all the fun work,” Rolf muttered and stomped away.

Varu nodded to Khent. “I’ll expect something soon.”

“You’ll get your answers when I get them. Whenever that might be,” Khent bit back, his tone icy to remind Varu he dealt with a mature reaper, not some newbie vamp.

“Figured as much.” Varu smirked.

“Your sense of humor is what I like least about you,” Khent growled.

Varu actually chuckled. “I have shit to do. Where’s Fara?” He turned away to find his mate.

Leaving Khent in charge of the little human.

He spun around and loomed over her. “Hmm. First, let’s see what you’re made of, Valentine Darkmore.”

“Made of?” Her voice rose. “I’m human. There’s no great mystery there.”

“Ah, but there is.” Khent dragged her close and slung an arm around her shoulders, pleased at the feel of her lithe body against him. “Let’s investigate my lab, shall we? I want to run some tests.”

She struggled but couldn’t free herself as Khent took her down to his personal space. Where he planned to see just what made her so valuable to the rogue necromancer and so fascinating to him—Khentimentiu of the Night Bloode.

A reaper who had better things to think about than what her lips would feel like under his.