The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) (31 page)

Why on earth would Constantine
bring such an expensive chair out into the middle of
nowhere?

It gave Justice another glimpse
inside the mind of a madman—a powerful vamp with the ability to
lead thousands upon an insane quest.

It reminded him of a few human
leaders who had done something similar.

He moved to one side and took
notice of the shape of the room, though he made sure not to remove
his eyes from Constantine.

Constantine stood, and Justice
could see now that he also wore a black cape. He turned, letting it
flair around him. His dark eyes did not miss anything, and he
laughed. “Do not worry, Prince of Fire, this is but a parlay. We
are only here tonight to achieve some sort of… understanding
between us, not to do battle—not yet.” He laughed again, teeth
flashing in the moonlight from his pale, white face, which seemed
to float in the darkness. “That is half the fun. We would not want
to ruin it by moving our pawns too quickly—now would
we?”

Justice knew his eyes had narrowed
at the use of his official title—a title that should still have
been unknown to the rogue leader. Dracon had been right. The old
vamp had eyes and ears everywhere.

“
Is that why you chose war?”
Justice asked after a long moment. “Because you’re
bored?”

Constantine grinned. “Of course.”
He waved an arm wide. “You would be, too, if you had lived as long
as I. Would you not wish to be the power that runs—all of this?”
His voice took on a hissing sibilance when he finished the
last.

Justice had a feeling it wasn’t
power that motivated him at all—but only the thought of
war.

“
And what exactly would it take
for the liege of all these free factions of vamps to work within
the Queen’s law?”

“
How dare you bring her up?”
Constantine snarled.

“
How dare you bring armies against
the Queen?” Justice snarled back.

Constantine actually
grinned.

“
You have some balls, boy, for one
so young.”

Justice let that roll off his back.
He must, indeed, seem like a mere boy to one who had lived so
long—and seen so much.

Constantine had been in more
battles than Justice would likely live in years—even if he lived a
thousand years or more. He had heard the stories. And he could only
imagine that there wasn’t much, if anything, the old vamp hadn’t
seen.

How did you fool someone that old,
someone who had likely had every trick in the book used against him
at one time or another?

There wouldn’t be a battle plan—or
battle formation—he wouldn’t be wise to, so that meant they would
have to fight with their wits.

He watched the old vamp, who was
staring him down now, while trying to figure out what he was
thinking. Justice stared back, eyes hard, and the old vamp laughed
some more. Constantine moved around his royal throne and walked
around the dirty shack, moving in a full circle around
Justice.

“
Because of Dracon,” he said, “I
am offering you and your armies the opportunity to join my cause.”
He had come to stand in front of Justice while he said this. “I
like Dracon.” He eyed Justice for a long moment. “And I think I
like you, too. You’ve got nerve—for a boy.”

Justice couldn’t believe his
brass.

Dracon stepped through the door in
time to hear this last, and he let out a derisive laugh. “Then you
have wasted our time—and your breath, old man,” he
hissed.

Constantine laughed. “Come now,
brother, we will all sit down and enjoy a large human-blood meal.
Well,” he lazily gestured toward Justice, “perhaps the Jaguar might
want the meat instead….”

Dracon had reached Constantine by
this time. “Do
not
call me ‘brother’, and where did you intend to pull this
feast from? Your… never mind.” He turned to Justice then.
“Justice…,” he stated, “what is your command?”

Justice had one hand resting lazily
on his sword. “We shall go,” he said, and turned toward the door,
but then turned back to Constantine. “There is nothing that can be
gained here—unless it would finally be your death.”

Constantine laughed once again.
“Ahhh—then perhaps you will afford me a
true war.
I shall look forward to
such a war.” He rubbed his hands together in
anticipation.

Justice knew there would be no
avoiding this war—because the war, not the power, was what the old
vamp was truly looking forward to—was what truly motivated him. He
realized that Constantine was not interested in being a
god.

He was only interested in one
thing.

Battle.

Justice straightened to his full
height. He would be most happy to oblige Constantine.

Constantine’s fangs flashed in the
darkness as if he knew he had just received the prize. Justice knew
he anticipated a good,
bloody
battle.

It was then that the vamps came
through the door.

Chapter
Thirty-Four

Power of Three

The sisters had walked through the
trees
on their way into the forest, each
occasionally peering up at the moon as it spilled its silver light
upon their path. They had been escorted by a battalion of Fae and
Jaguar guards. They were brought close enough to help hold
protection over Justice and Dracon, and the armies, but kept far
enough away so as to avoid being sensed by Constantine’s
armies.

Even if Constantine knew they were
there, this was an acceptable practice and wouldn’t violate the
terms of the parlay, so they shouldn’t be attacked. But no one knew
for sure whether the ancient vamp would actually follow any of the
rules of parlay. And so, just the to be safe, the sisters did their
best to cloak the large group from the fledgling vampires—and
Constantine’s immense power.

The forest was unnaturally quiet as
they moved on silent feet across the moss- and dead-leaf-carpeted
earthen floors, slipping through the old woods as quietly as
wraiths. The girls searched the trees as they walked. Shadows
loomed from every branch—long shadows were cast across the ground
in broken and misshapen designs.

It was enough to give even the
bravest person goose bumps; especially when the shadows began to
move in unnatural patterns—and the sisters could tell that the
shadows were trying to determine what was behind the cloaked area
they were fighting so hard to maintain.

The intensity was only compounded
by the knowledge of whom they were going up against.

Jes looked around once again. She
noticed that her sisters were doing the same as they fought to stop
their fear from breaking their concentration.

The Sisters of Three moved in
together and, taking each other’s hands so that they formed a
circle, they increased the intensity of their whispered chant. They
had been repeating their protective chant under their breath, like
a whisper on the night, since they had entered the
forest.

Constantine was very powerful. More
powerful than anything they had ever imagined. It was taking all of
their will to keep him from breaking through the protective wall
they had cast. And they had the sense that he wasn’t
concentrating—but was instead filled with his own arrogance and,
convinced of his own power and ability, had only half his
concentration fixed on what might lay outside his walls.

The Sisters of Three were following
Justice in their minds’ eyes, and knew the moment he entered the
shack. They knew he now faced Constantine. They watched him—the
three of them—through their minds’ eyes, like remote
viewing.

They stepped up the protective
chant they had continued at all times to whisper beneath their
breath—not even loud enough to be heard by even their own
ears—while clasping each other’s hands tightly within the
protection of their circle.

Roman was there, beside the Sisters
of Three, waiting for when the sisters would need him.

They could see Justice’s sisters
just outside the shack, though they were virtually invisible to
their enemies. They held silver bows and white arrows, which were
trimmed in white feathers. Both their bows and their arrows were
intricately painted in silver with powerful symbols, and the
arrowhead tips had been dipped in an herbal potion. Justice’s
sisters were likewise dressed in white. White boots, made of
leather, came up past their knees. They also wore white capes,
trimmed in silver symbols like their weapons, which hung down to
their calves.

They were as silent—and as
beautiful—as the silver shadows of the moon, slipping through the
trees.

They were each standing at an
opening into the cabin, whether it be a door or window. They
reminded Jes of Goddesses—perhaps the Three Fates, or maybe even
the Valkyries.

The Sisters of Three increased the
speed of their chant, muttering it under their breath with
increased power and intensity, for they knew—it was now their time
to act.

They could see Justice move his
body carefully out of the way of the door, without blocking the
window to his right. He knew his third sister was poised to let her
arrow fly from a window toward the back of the shack and to his
left.

Constantine was so arrogant that he
never questioned his ability to defeat any enemy, much less an
enemy he considered a boy, like Justice. After all, he had been
doing battle with his enemies for centuries.

It had become almost
too easy
for
him.

Why else would he place himself
with an open window nearly to his back?

The Sisters of Three watched the
exchange between Justice and the old vamp, watched as Dracon came
through the door.

And they saw the vamps pour from
the woods in flocks.

The sisters let go of each other’s
hands long enough to grab the potions. They saw Justice’s sisters
expertly shoot their arrows at the incoming vamps, neatly piercing
the vamps’ hearts.

They never missed.

But they couldn’t stop all of the
vamps who poured from the darkened protection of the woods. There
were just too many of them. Jes, Mira, and Dara were keenly aware
that, no matter how hard they tried, Justice’s sisters could no
longer reach him—or Dracon.

The vamps couldn’t see Justice’s
sisters—so they remained unharmed for now.

But now it was up to Jes, Mira, and
Dara.

They quickly began to chant their
spell as they stepped through Roman’s doorway and appeared in front
of the shack. They moved to form a circle around the perimeter of
the cabin and threw their potions high over the shack, then crossed
through Roman’s doorway back to their original place where, again
clasping hands, they chanted the rest of their spell, temporarily
binding their enemies and blinding them to their
movements.

Roman had stayed behind with
Justice and Dracon.

Seconds later, they saw Justice and
Dracon disappear from the cabin.

Chapter
Thirty-Five

Jes and Justice

Justice came to Jes in the
twilight hours
of the night. The danger of
what they had done that night only heightened the intensity of
their emotions as they made love. Justice ran his fingers over her
naked flesh. The moon was shining through the window, laying silver
tracks across her skin which his lips traced until she begged for
more. He kissed the tears that spilled down her face, and made love
to her.

It was some time later when they
slipped into the shower, then wrapped themselves in large, fluffy
towels and fell into the bed. They both lay there, holding each
other, each caught up in their own thoughts.

It had been an unbelievable
night.

Jes almost couldn’t believe that
they had actually come out of that meeting safely. And she knew
they were in more danger than ever because of it.

Now Constantine knew exactly their
abilities, of what they were capable—and he was probably very angry
for the knowing. It was only the sisters’ protection spell that
currently kept him from knowing what they were doing, and it had
taken all their will to keep him in the dark.

He wouldn’t fall for their plans
again so easily—or for the use of one of Roman’s doorways, either.
He’d been around much too long for such tricks to work
twice.

It had taken all the power the
sisters had to keep him from sensing it this time—and that was
probably because he had hardly been paying attention.

Jes shuddered. It had been amazing.
The sisters had sensed, right toward the last, the consciousness of
Constantine—and he had come dangerously close to sensing theirs.
Only his incredible arrogance had kept him from doing so. It had
blinded him.

He likely wouldn’t underestimate
them again.

Jes cuddled up next to Justice, and
he slipped his arm around her. She snuggled into his shoulder, and
he held her head to his chest and kissed her forehead with a
tenderness that made her weep.