Page 21 of War Mage (The War Brides of Adrik #4)

Urim

W e sit in the basement of an inn on the outskirts of a city, the atmosphere tense. From what I know of Barakrin’s geography, I would guess we were in either West Shade or East Light, twin cities that are roughly a day’s travel north of Evernight. After Adara’s display at the clearing, we took horses and rode here. We abandoned the horses outside the city wall and then entered the city through a secret passage in the city wall which led us straight to the back courtyard of the inn we are currently meeting in. The vampires that rescued us are looking at Adara and me with suspicion, while their masked leader sits across the oak table from us, leaning back in his chair.

“Alright,” he says, in even, measured tones that would rival my own. “You wanted to talk. Now talk.”

I regard him for a tense moment, sizing him up. I know that I told Adara that we should ask for their help, but it never hurts to be sure what one is dealing with before revealing information. One can tell a lot about a creature in a mask. This male is someone who doesn’t want his identity known. There could be many reasons for that. Being members of a resistance, they cannot risk Grazrath knowing who they are. But there are other clues as well. This Onyx Serpent has long, clean fingernails, even though he is obviously a skilled archer. So he’s not a soldier but has been trained in the deadly arts. Probably a noble of some sort who resists Grazrath’s rule. Then I notice the very tips of a tattoo or birthmark that is peeking out from his high collar, barely visible but there just the same. Interesting. I have an idea of who he could be, but I should only share that information when it will provide a tactical advantage.

“What did you do with the other blood slaves that you rescued with us?” I ask, not revealing anything yet.

“What does that matter?” the Onyx Serpent asks.

I shrug. “You tell me.”

The resistance leader’s red eyes narrow behind his mask. Now he’s sizing me up. After a moment though, he says, “We are not monsters. They are in the barn out back, being fed. We will smuggle them out of the country through our network when it is safe to do so.”

I raise a brow. “You do not feed on the blood of sentients?”

“We do,” he admits. “But our donors are voluntary. Comrades in our resistance who wish to help our cause. We could not compete with Grazrath’s followers if we abstained from the blood of sentients. The raid we carried out on your caravan wouldn’t have been possible without it.”

“So, you will give a choice to the blood slaves you rescued today?” I ask. “To leave or join you?”

“Yes,” he says. “Did you get the information you were hoping for?”

I don’t respond, but what he told me tells me much. The resistance treats non-vampires as equals and works to save them from forced blood servitude. It would seem that the resistance is worth trusting after all.

I’ve been silent too long for Adara’s taste, though, because she suddenly bursts out, “It is as I told you before. We are agents from Adrik. We were sent to kill Grazrath before he can grow in power.”

“Adara,” I say, warningly. We still need to be prudent about what information we share. I cannot scent the intentions of these vampires or whether or not he just lied to me, since their scents are too faint. Caution would still be wise.

“What?” she glares. “You are the one who said we should trust them, so I’m trusting them. The game was up in the clearing anyway, once I had to show my powers. We have no other choice but to bring them into the plot. We need their help to get in front of Grazrath, now that the magistrate won’t be delivering us.”

“What I don’t understand,” the Onyx Serpent cuts in, “is how you are planning to kill Grazrath in the first place. He is very strong, with no apparent weaknesses. He killed our old king by barely snapping his fingers. You are a mage, it is true, but it is unlikely that regular magic would even hurt an immortal like him.”

“There is a way,” I respond evenly before Adara can blurt out all the information we know. “A special form of fire that only Adara can cast that will make him vulnerable.” A slight exaggeration on my part. Any fire mage could cast soulfire, but Adara is the only one here who can and it doesn’t hurt to make them believe that Adara is precious and worth protecting.

“Make him vulnerable?” questions the vampire. “What does that even mean?”

“We don’t know exactly,” Adara answers before I can reply. “The scroll they found with the reference to the weakness is an ancient record from the God War. The language used was not clear. But suffice it to say, that if I can hit him with my fires, it will at the least weaken him so that he can be killed.”

The air changes in the room as the resistance fighters exchange looks. There is some excitement where there was only wariness before. Still, their leader stays leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaffected by what we revealed.

“So, what I’m hearing is that there is no guarantee that your mission will work and if we help you there is a chance that we will be drawn into the mess you create if your attack doesn’t take out the archdemon. Not a lot of incentive for us to risk our necks.”

“Do you have a better plan?” challenges Adara. “How were you planning on ousting Grazrath, then? Wishful thinking?”

“Peace, Adara,” I say, stepping in before she can say anything more offensive. I turn to face the resistance leader. “The Onyx Serpent is merely testing us, aren’t you?”

“Testing you?” he asks innocently. “Whatever could you mean?”

“You want to know how far we will go to see our mission through and how desperate we are to accomplish what we set out to do. You are testing for weaknesses to see if there is a way to manipulate this situation to your advantage, perhaps set yourself up to be in a position of higher bargaining power so that we have to give concessions in exchange for your help.”

“Oh my,” he responds drily. “Am I really doing all that?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “I know that you are because it is what I would do. But I will tell you that we are not authorized to promise anything to you on behalf of our rulers. We have nothing to offer you, save the hope that we can remove the immortal monster on your throne. Isn’t that what you want . . . Prince Malik?”

The vampires in the room stiffen, some hands flying to hilts to swords, but the Onyx Serpent merely raises a hand, staying the movement around him. Then he chuckles ruefully, reaching up and removing the scaled mask from his face. He reveals a visage that would be considered handsome by most, with a strong nose and jawline. He smiles at me, flashing long fangs in his mouth.

“Not much gets by you, does it spymaster? What gave me away?”

I shrug. “Your bearing and manner said that you were a noble of some sort, but one that was trained in combat, like royalty would be. But the thing that clinched it was your birthmark. My information from my contacts mentioned that you had a strange snake-like birthmark on your neck. Though you tried to cover it, I could see the edges of it and extrapolated from there.”

The prince shakes his head. “You are too observant for your own good. Now that you know my identity, you are a liability. I have not survived this long under the rule of Grazrath by letting random people who could be tortured for information know my identity.”

“The same could be said for you knowing our true identities,” I point out. “We could destroy each other with the information we have.”

The prince nods, accepting my answer. “I suppose if we can destroy each other, we can also help each other. My people and I have been subtly undermining Grazrath for months. Ordering attacks at times when your people would be able to repel us, fumbling advantages, passing key information to your people that would allow you to cut off Barakrin’s source of sentients, and the like. We even have been keeping Grazrath occupied in his palace so that he will not look too closely at the war effort and see what we’re up to. But our resources are running thin, as is Grazrath’s patience. We have been walking a razor-thin line, and cannot keep it up forever. But the newest information I have gleaned at the palace is why we raided your caravan. Grazrath needs a magical blood slave to access his full demonic energy. If he gets a hold of a warmblooded mage, he’ll be able to turn the tide of the war and nothing we’ve done to hold him at bay will keep him back any longer. We wanted to keep him from getting his hands on the air mage that was promised to him, but if what you are saying is true, we may be able to use his desperation for magic to our advantage.”

“How so?” asks Adara.

“We will wait another day. Long enough that Zadicus can get to the capital and report that raiders took you. Grazrath will order me to find you, I’m sure, using whatever means necessary. I can then bring you to the palace at Evernight as if I recovered you and deliver you right to Grazrath. Once he has you, you can attack him and hopefully kill him. If you fail, you’ll be on your own escaping, however, as I will have to act the part of Grazrath’s steward and try to capture you. And if I capture you, I’ll have to kill you, to make it look good, or I’ll just be brought down with you.”

I nod at this. “You would have to do what you have to do. But worry not, we have an escape plan.”

“‘We?’” questions Malik. “You would need to come too? But I thought we just needed the mage?”

“We have a soultie,” I reveal. “It is intrinsic to her being able to cast the spell to attack Grazrath. We do not know if it will work if I am too far away.”

“You’ve never tested it?” he asks.

“It’s not something you can test,” Adara pipes up. “It’s an only-cast-once kind of spell.”

“Huh,” the prince says. “Then we’d best make it count. I suppose delivering two slaves is as easy as one.”

He stands up from his chair, the vampires around him going to attention as he does. “I’ll make my way back to Evernight and wait for the order to find you. Until then, you’ll have to stay hidden here. There’s a secret chamber behind that wine cask that you two can stay in. We’ll bring you some food, but you must stay there and out of sight. We can’t risk another finding you before I can deliver you to Grazrath.”

“That is acceptable,” I say. “We will do as you say.”

“Take them to the secret chamber,” orders Malik, putting his mask back on and moving to exit the basement. “And bring them some warmblood food. They’ll need their strength for what is coming.”

He turns back to me and Adara once more before fully leaving. “I hope to the gods that your plan will work. If not, we’ll just be delivering Grazrath what he needs to end the world.”

With that sobering thought, he ascends the stairs out of the basement and is gone.

???

We finish a repast in the secret chamber, which has two dusty cots inside and not much else. The meal consists of bread and dried meat. It’s very simple, but I doubt that they have much in the way of solid food in Barakrin, so I appreciate the effort.

We don’t really speak while we’re eating. Things are tense as we wait for the next step. Internally, I am feeling conflicted. Now that we’ve made a plan and put it into action, and we are mere days away from being in Grazrath’s presence, it is finally becoming real to me. Adara is going to be walking into danger and possible death, whether she succeeds or not. My mate, the one that I have begun to feel more for than just as a comrade. Can I live with myself if something happens to her? Will I want to?

“You’re looking better,” Adara remarks, breaking into my grim and traitorous thoughts. “Stronger. More like yourself.”

I grunt noncommittally in reply. The resistance scrounged up a healing potion for me when they brought our food, which my ribs appreciated. The brands on my chest are also starting to scar over, having been encouraged in their healing by the potion. Their effect seems lessened as they heal, the air no longer feeling painful against my skin.

“I suppose we should get some rest, now that we’re safe,” Adara continues. “But I confess that I’m feeling a bit too keyed up. A lot has happened in the last few hours.”

“It is a skill to be able to force your body to rest when it does not want to,” I remark. “Rest can be the difference between victory and defeat, so it is imperative that we allow our minds and bodies respite.”

Adara smiles at me wryly. “Learned that from your warrior monks?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Their discipline is severe, but I learned much of what I am today from them.”

The mage puts down her plate and cup and then stands up from her cot, sashaying over to me. “You know, I might be able to wind down if someone gave me some correcting.”

My spine stiffens at her words, even as the blood rushes to my cock. Adara comes toward me, climbing onto my lap, and places her hands on my shoulders to steady herself.

“What do you say, commander?” she purrs. “Might we find a release together and work off some of this nervous energy?”

“No,” I say, though my throat is dry as I say so, the wanting gripping my heart.

Adara raises a brow and I feel hurt and offense coming from her side of the bond. “ No? ” she repeats. “But why not?”

“I told you before,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even, “I have been developing feelings for you. Because of my Mating Instinct. I no longer find it tasteful to use you as a mere tool for pleasure and I do not wish to be used either. It is not enough for me.”

“You want more?” Adara asks, sounding vulnerable. “A deeper connection?”

“My Mating Instinct does,” I confirm. “Though it is not wise at this juncture of the mission to engage in a deep connection, that is what it wants.”

“What ‘it’ wants?” she questions, still straddling me. “Not what ‘you’ want?”

The confirming words are ready to tip out over my tongue, but I can’t quite say them. Because they are a lie. I know that deep down I want Adara as my true mate just as much as my Mating Instinct. But we are on a mission that could result in her death and I don’t know that I’ll have the stomach to go through with it if we take our relationship any further.

But I don’t want to lie. So instead I rasp out, “It doesn't matter what I want.”

“It matters to me ,” retorts Adara softly. “Tell me that you don’t want me and I’ll go to my side of the room and we’ll forget that this ever happened. But if you can’t say that . . .”

Longing spears through my heart, strong enough that I’m sure she can feel it in the bond. But still, I remain silent.

Adara leans in closer, her nose skimming mine, and then she whispers, “Can you tell me that, commander? That you don’t want me?”

I gulp, knowing that it is unwise to play her game, but unable to resist. “I cannot,” I respond, catching her brown eyes with mine.

Then her lips meet mine and all control flees.