Page 52 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)

PHAEDRA

T he clang of metal on metal pierces the fog around my brain, and I force my eyes open.

The last thing I remember is taking a bite of the apple, then darkness took me under.

I raise my hand and find a panel in my hand instead of an apple.

Sitting up, I grab my phone and shine my light on it.

A double-headed eagle wearing a laurel crown is depicted on the piece.

The image my father used to identify our kingdom.

Dirt flies up beside me and startled, I look up and find Mathias engaged in battle with another vampire. Fangs on display, they’re a blur of arms, legs, and knives. Mathias quickly dispatches him and whips around to confront another.

I jump to my feet. Shoving the panel into the back of my pants, I draw my gun. I’ve killed mages. A shifter too. Never a vampire. “Where do I aim?”

“Bullet to the brain,” he shouts. “It won’t kill them, but it’ll slow them down.”

“How do I kill them?” I shout back.

“Cut off their head and burn them with fire born from magic,” he replies, narrowly dodging a sword. “Stay behind me. Only shoot those that get past me.”

With my back against the tree, I hold the gun steady in my hand. The world around me blurs. Mathias and the vampires move too fast for me to follow. Occasionally, I get a glimpse of his fierce face, but it’s gone in a blink.

Jamison appears with a golden lasso in his hand. He ropes several, then with a flick of his wrist, he decapitates them. Throwing a ball of fire on their bodies, he moves on to the next group.

“We need to get out of these trees,” Jamison shouts in Mathias’ direction.

More vampires pour into the area, and Mathias looks over at me. “Get her out of here. I’ll cover you.”

“You better be right behind us,” Jamison utters in a grim voice. Mathias pauses and dips his chin in acknowledgement, then returns to the fight.

Jamison grabs my arm, but I shake him off. “We can’t leave him.”

“You’re his biggest liability right now,” Jamison says, pausing to burn a few vampires.

Several vampires circle us as we head in the direction of the temple, but Jamison wields the lasso as if it’s an extension of his arm, holding them back. “Hawthorne and Gatlin are holding their own, but we need to regroup.”

I look back at Mathias and see him moving in our direction. “He’s coming.” A vampire pops up behind us, and I fire but miss. “They’re too fast.”

“Save the bullets,” Jamison orders as he cracks the whip, obliterating him.

We burst through the trees and into the field with Mathias about twenty feet behind us.

I turn my head toward the temple and see Hawthorne twirling a staff made of fire.

The second it touches a vampire, a shower of sparks bursts into the air.

Gatlin stands to his right in gryphon form.

Impenetrable to their teeth, the enemy is having a hard time landing a hit before his beak snaps them in two.

Bodies are piled on the ground at his feet.

Jamison tosses a ball of fire at the pile and incinerates them. The three of them form a triangle with me in the center. Unable to throw any potions, I hold my gun tightly, preparing to fire at any vampires who get too close.

“Where’s Mathias?” Hawthorne shouts.

“He was right behind us, but I don’t see him now,” I return, biting my lip. Where the hell is he?

A blur knocks the gun from my hand and without thinking, I use the curse that hit Hawthorne in Oxford.

Dots of blood appear all over the vampire’s body.

He screams but can’t get away from it. His red eyes lock with mine, and he flashes a bloody smile.

Poof! His head is torn away by Gatlin’s massive beak.

Hawthorne touches him with the staff, and he’s nothing but a pile of ash.

The vampires move in closer, and we back away from them.

I stumble and go down; rough stone scrapes my palm.

They’ve managed to back us halfway to the temple.

Fear tries to rise, but I choke it down and get up.

We can’t portal out of here with them this close.

We need a way to get them away from us. Just for a second.

A lone whistle pierces the air, and every single vampire stops moving.

Four vampires, three men, and one woman, stride out of the forest with Mathias hanging in their arms, and my heart plummets. He’s in bad shape, blood pouring from several wounds, and he can’t hold up his head.

“Give us the panel, and we’ll let you live,” a dark voice booms across the field.

Jamison curses, and a loud screech comes from Gatlin.

Steel-blue eyes turn to me, a question in their depths, and I nod.

“Mathias for the panel. We’ll make the exchange at the temple,” I shout in return.

Silence.

“Gatlin, shift back,” Jamison orders. “Hawthorne, be ready to get us out of here. Not the house but close by.” He turns to me. “Why the temple?”

“Because the gods favor me,” I state confidently, my voice loud. Although they would never come to my rescue. Still, if the vampires are listening, this might make them pause.

“Agreed,” the ominous voice rings out.

The four vampires pivot toward the temple.

We move into its center and wait for them to bring Mathias to us.

I glance at one of the men carrying him and realize that not all of the soldiers are vampires.

That’s the guy Mathias has been tracking.

Fucker. I seethe. When they get there, they drop him at our feet.

Furious, I throw the panel with all my might into the field, and all four rush to get it as if the first one to the panel will win a prize.

“Now,” Jamison roars, creating a shield of fire around the temple.

Gatlin picks up Mathias. Hawthorne reaches down and grabs my hand. And the four of us enter the portal.

On the other side, Jamison takes a stance, but not one vampire comes through after us. With a jerk of his head, we hurry over a few streets and into the safety of the house. Gatlin lays Mathias down on the dining table.

“There are too many wounds,” Jamison says, slipping his belt from its loops and pressing it to Mathias’ mouth. “Bite on this. We’ll cauterize them, then give you blood.”

Hawthorne and Jamison begin to close the wounds. The scent of burning flesh fills the air, making me gag. Tears run down my cheeks while I watch Mathias strain against the pain. Gatlin returns with a blood bag in his hand, waiting for them to finish.

“Done,” Hawthorne announces, wiping the sweat from his face. “Give him the blood.”

Mathias rips the blood from Gatlin’s hand and drinks it in three gulps. “More.” His voice is guttural, not even close to the smooth cadence that usually flows from his mouth.

Gatlin takes a deep breath. “You drank the others. My contact had a limited supply. I can try to reach out to a few others.”

Jamison flicks a hand, and a golden rope appears, wrapping itself tightly around Mathias. Alarmed, I reach out to pull it away, but he stops me. “If he goes into bloodlust, we won’t be able to stop him.” He begins to roll up his sleeve.

“You’re giving him blood?”

Jamison doesn’t answer, only holds his wrist up to his friend. “Take what I freely give.”

Mathias turns his head, rejecting Jamison’s offer. “Her.”

Jamison vehemently shakes his head. “No. Mine.”

“Can’t,” Mathias admits, sharing a silent conversation with Jamison.

“Fuck,” Hawthorne curses, swiping his hand through his hair. “He can only drink directly from her.”

“Why me?” I ask, staring down at Mathias.

They all turn to him, and he nods at Jamison.

Jamison takes my hands in his. “He didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want you to feel forced into anything. You’re his mate.”

“Like mate mate?!” I screech, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “His forever and ever kind of mate?” Anger rises, and my eyes drop to Mathias. “Is this true?”

He gives one nod.

“I…” I close my eyes, unable to speak for a minute. Shit. Shit. Shit. What in the hell will the gods say about me having a mate?

Jamison takes my hand. “The mate bond means nothing unless you exchange blood. You’re still free to choose. Or not.”

That’s reassuring. I take a deep breath and stare down at Mathias.

He coughs, and blood spills out of the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay. I’ll heal.”

It’s clear they don’t want to pressure me, but with the enemy breathing down our necks, time is of the essence. I jerk my sleeve up. This is going to be bad. Really bad. But maybe it’s better this way. Rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak. I’m getting too close to them anyway.

“You’re going to see things. My past. Try to remember, I was fifteen when it happened. Much younger than the daughter you left behind. A stupid child who thought nothing of consequences. Not an excuse but truth,” I rush to explain.

My gaze travels from Mathias to Jamison to Gatlin and finally to Hawthorne, needing to see the concern and care on their faces one last time. With a deep breath, I press my wrist against Mathias’ mouth.

His tongue licks my skin, and a buzzing feeling invades my body. Fangs sink into the delicate skin, but I barely feel them. Warmth steals the words from my mouth. Heat builds along with a keen sense of pleasure. I gasp. My body becomes slick, and it takes everything I have to remain standing.

A wicked expression replaces the pain-filled one on Mathias’ face. Lines smooth. Wounds heal. Dark eyes flicker with intent.

“Mathias,” Jamison’s quiet voice breaks the haze around us. “One minute.”

Images flash in my mind. Childhood memories of days long gone.

I bite my lip as time fast-forwards. Suddenly, the memory of that night pops into my head.

The one I’ve been hiding from them all. The truth of my past. Sure, the gods don’t want me to reveal myself, but this is my secret.

A grey area I’ve avoided for far too long. The reason I was punished.

It takes everything not to rip my wrist away. I’m such a coward.