The Return (23 page)

"How do you know my name?"

"I've been watching you."

He stood sharply, his lip curling into a sneer. "Be careful what you say to me, woman."

She only smiled at his reaction and reached out, taking his rough calloused hand. "Come."

Arturius followed her from the tent, hardly aware of what he was doing. What kind of trickery was this? He seemed to have lost control of himself as she led him away from the camp like a lamb to the slaughter.

They had gone some way into the darkness, over the rise and hidden from the sight of their camp and the captured castle, and it was not long after that that he saw the warm light of a
camp fire
through the trees. As the woman led him closer, he saw that it was a large circle of flame, too large to be a simple campfire. It had something unnatural about it. He began to hesitate, suspecting some kind of ambush, but she wouldn't let his hand go. He didn't think he could release her grasp even if he wanted to.

Coming through the tree line, he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Within the circle of flame stood faces he recognized and they were all as bewildered as he was.

To one edge stood his men Marcus and Titus. There was a 
primius pilus
 he knew to be Caius, new to his post, but well deserving. And behind the young Roman was the woman he knew was called Octavia. He was surprised to see her here. She was Vespasian's play thing
;
his whore. When he first saw her at camp, he was surprised. He thought their general had preferred little boys. But, perhaps the reason she was here in Britannia was to stop such rumors. But, from the look of her he knew that was Vespasian's reason, not hers. A woman in a man's world only meant one thing. She was cutthroat and prepared to do whatever it took to secure her ambitions. Octavia wanted power.

A fifth figure stepped from the shadows as the woman led him into the circle of flame. He recognized him instantly. Regulus.

If he was here than that meant he had escaped. Everyone knew what he did. He was third to Claudius himself in the Legion and he had been caught plotting to assassinate the emperor. Last he'd heard
,
he had been locked up, awaiting passage back to Rome for trial and execution. He should have been killed on the spot. Trial was merciful.

"Regulus," Arturius sneered as he came face to face with the tall Roman. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be somewhere clapped in irons and left to rot?"

Regulus just stared coldly into his eyes as if he was daring him to look away.

"Did you really plot against the emperor?" Caius asked, looking him up and down.

"Whatever they said I did, it hardly matters now," Regulus sneered. 

"Welcome," the woman said, opening her arms. The firelight danced of her skin, giving her an air of otherworldliness. "My name is Katrin and I have brought you all here this fine evening to offer you all a gift. I have seen great things in all of you and they deserve to be rewarded."

"Rewarded with what?" Marcus asked with a note of doubt in his voice.

Katrin smiled. "You will all have new lives. Your futures will be in your hands."

"What do you want in return?"

"I want your allegiance. And your help in a little matter."

"What matter?" Arturius was the highest rank here and felt it his right to speak for them. Regulus didn't count
anymore,
his rank had been stripped from him.

"I want information and you will be in the position to acquire it once you have been transformed."

"And that's all you want?" 

"Yes."

"In exchange for immortality?" scoffed Octavia. "There has to be something else you want."

"Don't underestimate the value of what I want you to do, Octavia. There are certain side effects to your transformation."

"What kind of side effects?"

"You won't be able to go out into the sunlight for a time. And you will have to drink blood to survive."

"Blood?" Octavia was disgusted at the notion. "Only the denizens of the underworld drink blood."

Katrin sneered at the Romans. "I'm sorry to be the one who divulges this to you, but your Gods don't exist."

"No," Arturius hissed, turning to the others. "This is a test. The gods will punish us if we agree to this. Can't you see?"

Regulus rolled his eyes at the five other humans. "Are you all that stupid? She's a witch and a human. In what world does that exist? A god didn't give her this curse. A creature did.
A living breathing creature
that can die just like the rest of us."

"I wouldn't call it a curse," Katrin crooned. "I would call it a
gift
."

"Whatever you call it, I agree with your terms," Regulus said before turning to the others, staring each of them down. "Are you with me?"

"Regulus, you can't," Arturius tried to reason with him. "Your soul…"

"My soul was destroyed a long time ago, brother. Can't you see that this is something great? We will have the power to make a better world. Create something worth fighting for."

"Rome is worth…"

"Rome is worth
nothing
," he spat. "The moment you try and do something good and right, they will stop at nothing to tear you down. They will kill everyone you ever loved in front of your eyes then plunge a sword into your heart. Rome is corrupt."

"No…" He looked around at the other Romans, but they were staring at him with closed expressions. They wanted this. They knew the truth of Regulus' words and he was the only one who was resisting.

"Why do you think I tried to murder the emperor?" Regulus grasped the front of his shirt. "Because he killed everyone I ever loved. He sold me a lie,
then
he took it all away from me. And he will do the same to you."

Arturius wrenched himself away, hardly comprehending what he was saying. Rome was corrupt? The gods didn't exist? If what Regulus was saying was true, then the life he wanted to go back to didn't exist. And if he found it, it would be taken from him with the flick of a wrist. He'd seen taste of it when he tried to question Vespasian's order the previous day, had he not? Death would follow the moment he disagreed with another order and it didn't matter if he was right or wrong. He was replaceable. Rome was not a democracy. Deep down he knew it, but he'd rather the denial. All this time he'd preferred the denial
over
the truth.

"Then what is right?' he whispered, looking up at the traitor who now didn't seem so traitorous.

Regulus inclined his head towards Katrin. "This is right."

Arturius glanced over to the witch and she nodded, a smile playing at her lips. Looking back to Regulus he said, "Then I agree." 

Z
ac sat bolt upright with a sharp hiss and began to claw at
himself
. He was still inside the house and still not invited in. He felt like he was turning inside out. When he looked up, desperate for an escape, he saw Arturius looking down at him with a look of amusement plastered on his ugly face. He was on his feet in an instant, launching himself on the Roman, who pushed him back with the slightest of touches.

"Invite him in," Arturius ordered a man who Zac now realized was lingering in the shadows. "Before he hurts himself, if you don't mind."

"You're free to come inside," the man said and almost instantaneously, Zac felt the pain subside.

He slumped against the wall, fighting the overwhelming desire to rip the Roman's face off. But, that's when he saw her. She was lingering in the shadows, shoulders hunched forwards, head hung low. It couldn't be anyone else.

"Morgan?" he said, ignoring Arturius who stood by watching them with a curious expression.

She lifted her head and he caught the glitter of tears staining her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Has he hurt you?" he asked, trying to ignore the anger that was welling up inside of him.

"Has he hurt you?" Arturius scoffed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "She betrayed you."

"I would never…" Morgan cried.

"You betrayed him, not her," Arturius sneered. "Do you really think he would ever forgive you?"

"No
..
."

"You've been played, love." He said it with a note of triumph that made Zac sick. "If you truly thought that I would honor a bargain with you, you are one stupid little girl."

"You have no shame, Arturius," Zac whispered, clenching his fists at his side.

"That's the first intelligent thing you've said, Zachary. Bravo."

"I'm so sorry, Zac. I never meant for this to happen. I was blind. I'm sorry." Morgan was sobbing now. Zac knew he should be angry with her. She'd betrayed them all to the one man who wanted them dead.
And what for?
An empty dream?
He couldn't love her the way she wanted. He would never be able to.

Arturius sighed loudly, beginning to become bored with his lack of reaction. The Roman obviously wanted a show, but he would never stoop that low. He glanced back to Morgan, who was cowering back against the wall, a look of absolute anguish on her face. He'd never seen such emotion before, even in the face of
death,
he had never seen someone so desperate for forgiveness.

Zac knew she needed this from him and he would give it to her. He'd led her on all that time ago. He'd slept with her in a moment of weakness, used her for comfort. He was the reason she was here in the first place. He was the reason she had these feelings. In a way, it was
all his
fault, wasn't it?

"I forgive you," he whispered and felt a pang of sadness as her fearful expression faded with relief.

Arturius scoffed at them. "Forgiveness is for the weak. If you're going to do something, do it without the regrets."

"Let her go, Arturius," Zac scowled at the Roman. "She isn't part of this. You've got what you want."

"You're right, Zachary," he sneered, reaching behind himself and pulling a stake from his back pocket. He flipped it in his hand a few times before looking back up at him. "She has out lived her usefulness. I don't need her any more now that I have Aeriaya locked up safe and sound. But, then again..." 

Before he could move, Arturius plunged the stake directly into Morgan's heart. Her eyes widened with shock as she gulped for air. Zac ran forward and grasped her
face
as she turned grey, her body withering under his hands. A tear slid from his eye and down his cheek as her eyes glazed over. Gently lowering her limp form to the ground, he closed his eyes, anger beginning to simmer underneath the surface.

"No," he hissed through his clenched teeth as he felt her life slip away, her heart thudding into silence. "
No
."

He turned to face Arturius who was surveying them with an amused grin.

"What are you smiling at?" he demanded. "Was this just all for your own entertainment?"

"Of course," the Roman shrugged.

Zac was too far gone to stop himself. He launched himself onto the Roman with such force, his fist almost punctured the flesh around the Roman's heart. Arturius' fist came back just as fast, clipping his jaw, splitting his lip against his teeth and sending him sprawling backwards.

"I'm not going to be your pawn, Arturius," he growled, spitting blood on the floor.

Arturius laughed, his head shaking from side to side, "Unfortunately, you don't have a say in the matter, Zachary. I'll do what I want with you, when I want. And next time you think about trying to tear my heart out, remember how easy it was for me to stop you."

Aya scrambled to her feet when the door to her basement prison was opened and Zac's form came hurtling in. He landed on his knees with a grunt and she rushed forwards as the door closed with a bang. When he didn't move, she knelt beside him, concern in her pale features.

"Zac?" she asked, tentatively.

He stood without looking at her and crossed the room, resting his head against the brickwork of the far wall, his shoulders heaving as he drew in deep breaths. Aya knew he was trying to calm himself down and she remained where she was, letting him be. A minute passed before he turned around, leaning back against the wall and sliding down until he was sitting. She was beside him in an instant, her blue eyes shining curiously in the murky light.

"Zac?" she asked again, knowing that the news wasn't good. How could it be?

"She's gone." His voice was quiet, almost strained to breaking point.

"Arturius…" she began to say, but Zac grunted, cutting her off before she could say it. Arturius had killed Morgan.

He let his head fall to her shoulder, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was a whisper in the darkness as she stroked his hair.

He lifted his head and cupped her face with shaking hands, pressing his lips against hers, kissing her with a desperation that was unsettling. He'd just lost Morgan, a woman of whom she felt jealous, but he had had a connection with her that was deeper than just friendship. To a vampire on the brink of insanity, the offer of help and salvation was just as great a sensation as the one of love offered.
Aya was jealous of her in a way
,
she couldn't deny it
.

Despite her uneasiness, his presence was overwhelming and she kissed him back, sliding a hand up his chest, coming to rest over the pulsing vein in his neck. Even as he was coming to terms with what he'd obviously witnessed, she wanted him. It was selfish, but she wanted him.

"Please," he whispered, pulling away, his eyes searching hers in the murky light. "Please." He leant back against the wall, exposing his neck to her.

Aya understood. She would give him
this,
regardless of the benefits his blood would give her. Kneeling in front of him, she buried her face into his neck, inhaling his sent as deeply as she could, her fingers curling into his unruly hair. When he groaned, his hands grasping her waist, she let her fangs grow in and sunk them deep into his skin. Zac hissed at the sudden pain, but let his head loll to the side as she pulled the blood from him in gentle mouthfuls. She would never get over how addictive it was to her, the rich coppery tang sliding down her throat like a fine wine, her power awakening deep inside of her. Zac's blood was more than a lifeline. It was more than power. It was… there were no words.

He pulled her closer and she straddled him, pushing herself hard into him as she drank her fill. When his heartbeat began to slow and his hands fell away, she drew back, running her thumb across the wound in his neck, encouraging it to heal. She didn't want to be anywhere else, but in his arms. When he touched her, she forgot everything but him.

"Thank you," he murmured, eyes closed.

Running a hand lightly down his face, she said, "You're welcome." She tore herself away, sitting next to him, leaning back against the wall.

"I love you," he whispered, his head coming to rest on her shoulder.

Aya had no idea what to say to comfort him. She couldn't be selfish with him, but she didn't know anything else. Instead, she asked, "Do you remember the ball your parents had at the manor? The one they had the night before you left for Virginia?"

"What? When?" His head came up, but she didn't lift her gaze to meet his.

"It was 1863 if I remember correctly. During the Civil War."

"How do you know about that?" She felt his hand tighten around hers as he recalled the night she spoke of.

"Because I was there."

"What…" He sounded confused.

"Sophia helped me remember a few things." She turned to look at Zac in the murky light, taking in his features that were so familiar to her, remembering the vision. "The uniform suited you, though perhaps it was the wrong color."

He snorted, shaking his head slightly. "Why don't I remember you? Did you..."

"No, I never compelled you. It was a strange time. Perhaps you had a lot on your mind."

"How could I forget you," he whispered, his hand caressing her thigh.

Aya tried to force a smile, shivering at his touch. "How could I forget
you
.
"

"Do you think you could compel me to remember?"

"Zac, no," she shook her head. "It wouldn't be real."

"None of this seems real."

"I assure you, it's all very real," she scoffed. She let silence descend then, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought it up.

"I want…" he began to say, but stopped himself. She felt the tension begin to build in his body as she pressed her leg against his. When she slid her hand along his thigh, he let out a sharp hiss his unusual green eyes burning into hers.

"What?" she asked, when he remained silent, staring at her.

"I think all parts of you are beautiful. I love all of you."

"Zac," Aya frowned at him. "You haven't seen the half of it."

"It doesn't matter."

"When I tore the werewolves apart... that was nothing."

"And you don't even know a quarter of the shit things I've done."

"It's not the same."

"It's
exactly
the same."

"Zac…"

"The circumstances might be different, but it's the same."

She let it drop, knowing that in some way he was right. They both had an unstable element. Hers was due to her genetic
makeup,
his was due to lack of instruction. The result was the same.

Zac turned away, leaning his head against the wall. "What are we going to do? I want him dead."

"I don't know yet."

"You need to kill him, you know that right?"

"Of course I do," she glared at him. "Just… not yet. I can't."

"Why not? After all the things he's done to you." He ran his hands over his face, trying to mask his anger. "Morgan didn't deserve that end. Even though she betrayed us, she didn't deserve it."

She sensed his impatience and it irritated her. "He won't come close to me. There's no chance."

"You only need to touch him."

"Yes, but we have no idea what's happened to Gabby. It's entirely possible that we're in the same house that Sophia saw in her vision, but that's only speculation. If I kill him, then we wouldn't know for sure. We could lose her, Zac. Arturius is trying to wake up something dark inside of her. The same thing happened to her ancestor. That's why I was in Ashburton to begin with. If we act irrationally, then it could mean our freedom, but a death sentence for Gabby."

"But, the more time passes…"

"We have to be smart about this, Zac. It won't be as straight forward as Caius. Arturius is smarter than that."

He sighed, covering his face with his hands. She knew he wanted to get it over with. As with the werewolves and Katrin, he wanted to dive head first into trouble and fight his way out. She watched him struggle with his nature and resisted the urge to embrace him. He wouldn't want to be coddled any more than she did.