The Spark of a Feudling (22 page)

****

Christian paced. His army waited impatiently for his signal to attack the house.

Lord Adlington had taken everything from him. It was time to take it back.

If only the man would return so Christian
could
take it back.

They waited for hours in the driving rain, until Christian finally gave up. He stormed up to the wide front doors, blasting them open with a wall of blue flames. His army, small as it was, swarmed in behind him, flooding the wide foyer. Servants screamed, and guards came running. “Where is he? Where is the Duke of Adlington?” Christian yelled, slamming up a ward in front of them the same way Ada used to do to protect him. He laughed maniacally as several of them smashed into it and fell backward.

“Christian, what is the meaning of this?” Harrison bellowed from the other side, prowling like a caged cat. His brother-in-arms, Davis, glared next to him. “You were one of us. Now you attack?”

“He threw me out! He promised me his daughter and then he blackened my name with lies and rumors! He disgraced my mother and drove my sister insane! He must pay for his sins!” Christian screamed.

“You can't possibly think you can fight us with Carules.” Davis had to yell to be heard through the wards, and Christian had grown weary of it.

Dropping the spell, he glanced over his shoulder at his men. “Shall we show them what we've learned?”

His men attacked. Their spells weren't as powerful as the Edren spells, but they outnumbered the Edrens ten to one. Christian watched, amused, as the guards he used to envy for their magic fought for their lives against the men he had trained.

And then he turned his back on them.

He didn't care about them. He wanted Richard. And then he wanted Ada. They would both pay for how they'd hurt him.

He raced up the stairs to Richard's study, bursting through the door with a blast of flames. Unfortunately, Richard wasn't there and Christian's show of power was a waste. Frowning, he scanned the room, looking for some clue as to where the man might be.

What he found was far more interesting.

Pages and pages of spells and notes. Notes explaining how to feed off war. How to live forever. Christian bent low over them, scanning them quickly, his heart racing. If he knew Richard, and over the past year he was fairly positive he'd gotten to know the man very well, he knew he'd done this spell on Ada and himself.

“Well, we don't want you two watching the world go by alone, now do we?” Christian said, rolling up the pages. He shoved them into his back pocket just as the door swung open.

“Christian! What are you doing here?”

“I'm taking everything you ever loved.” Christian advanced on the man who had ruined his life, crushed his dreams, driven him mad. Richard stood in the still-burning doorway, Vivian behind him. “Tell me where Ada is and I won't kill your wife.”

“Ada isn't here. She's in her new home! In Charnock!” Vivian screeched.
Witch,
Christian thought, frowning. The woman was a disgrace to the word mother. With his rational self having a moment of clarity, he realized, briefly, what he was doing.

And then the other side reared up and took over. Again. He shot a wall of flames from his hand — a spell, he thought with a malicious smile, that Richard had taught him. The man danced out of the way and the spell hit Vivian in the chest. She screamed, stumbling backward, batting at the flames, but Christian had added his own little touch to that spell. It would not go out, no matter how much she beat at the fire. It would burn her alive.

“Vivian!” Richard whirled on her, tackling her to the ground as he tried to smother the flames with his own body. Instead, it ignited him, as well. Rolling, they both screamed together in agony.

Christian tucked the last of the duke's papers into his jacket pocket and crossed the room, stepping over their bodies like they were nothing but rolled rugs. “My work here is done.” The stairs were on fire. The servants were trapped inside. If his warriors had done their jobs, the guards were also trapped or dead. He stormed down the stairs, letting the flames trail from his hands, igniting the expensive carpets the maid was always snapping at him about. And he laughed.

His mother waited for him in Charnock. She'd been to Ada's betrothed — no, Ada's
husband's —
home before and knew where it was. She didn't have any idea he had come here first. All his poor mother knew was that he wanted to talk to Ada. One. Last. Time.

And she had obliged. Because she loved him.

He stepped through the portal into sheets of water, nearly drowning himself. It had been raining in Adlington, but nothing like this. Lightning exploded at his feet and he jumped back, swearing. “What is this madness?” he asked, whirling on Scarlett.

She shook her head. “We cannot stay long or the ground will flood and we won't be able to get to the doorway to get back. Hurry, Christian. Make your peace with her.”

****

“I forgot my trunk. With all my clothes,” Ada said dumbly, staring at her things stacked neatly in William's bedchambers.

Her bedchambers.

She swallowed hard. “I can't possibly make it home in this storm. I don't—”

William slid his hands around her waist, pulling her gently back against him. He leaned his face against her hair, slowly dragging one hand up to remove the pins holding it in place. “We can send my maid through the doorway your father left open. She can bring the trunk back in minutes.”

Ada felt chills race up and down her neck, whether from his breath against her skin or… some odd sense of foreboding? She didn't know. She moved away from him, nodding quickly. “I can go. I just need to change out of my wet things.”

William chuckled, pulling her close against him again. “And change into what, darling? I'll fetch the maid. All we need is for you to open the doorway.” He kissed her forehead, and then her temple, trailing kisses down her jaw as he reached blindly for the bell. The maid responded almost immediately, and William growled quietly as he pulled away from Ada.

“We need you to fetch a trunk for us in Adlington,” he told the maid, who Ada was relieved to see was not Harriet.

The maid would not do it. Even after Ada, still soaking wet and dripping on the floor, figured out how to ignite the spark to open the doorway, the maid would not walk through it. “Fine. Go draw her up a bath, please. Help her get out of those wet things. I will return shortly.”

“William, wait.” Ada caught his arm as he was about to step through the shimmering doorway. The room on the other side seemed fine, but Ada's gut twisted. Something was wrong. “I'll go. Just let me run get it and—”

He bent down and kissed her nose. “I wouldn't think of it, Ada. You save the day all the time. Let me be the hero this time.” Without another word, he stepped through, grinning boyishly at her from the other side. She had a suspicion that a large part of his motivation had been the chance to jump through a magic portal. He seemed to have regained all of his strength at the thought of it.

She raised her hand to wave back, that odd sense of foreboding leaving her stomach in knots.

And somehow, her fingers brushed the spark that closed the door completely.

“No! Wait!” she screeched, scrabbling at the little flames as they scattered on the air and dusted away. “Wait! How do I open it?” She lit sparks of her own, trying to ignite the ones left from the doorway, crawling on her hands and knees on the floor. Nothing worked. The doorway was gone.

“What have I done?” she moaned, dropping her head to her knees.

“Don't worry, love. He'll be fine. Soon as the storm lets up, he'll come home to you.” Ada had all but forgotten the maid until she spoke from the doorway.

She raised her head to stare at the woman blearily. She was older, probably around the same age as the head maid at Adlington. “I feel like something is very wrong,” she whispered.

“It's just the storm and the stress from the day. Come on, love. Let's get you cleaned up. You'll have your wedding bed to yourself tonight, I'm afraid.”

But Ada could not sleep. She could not stay in that room alone. The walls felt like they were ripping her soul right out of her, so she escaped downstairs to the parlor, dressed in her still-mostly-wet clothes — it was that or her wedding dress. She stood at the window and glared out at the storm. Lightning struck five, six, seven times; splitting the sky in brilliant light so bright it was like the noonday sun had risen again. And then came the thunder, before the light had even faded, booming so loud it shook the house, causing the fine crystal chandelier to sway and creak. It was the worst storm she had ever seen. And it was keeping William away from her. And something was very, very wrong. She knew it was. She gave an incensed stomp of her foot, and then felt ridiculous and was glad no one was around to see her.

Lightning flashed again, lighting the sky, and Ada screamed as a face leered back at her through the window. The glass shattered inward in a blast of blue flames, throwing her back against the wall where she lay trembling in shock. Christian stalked through the gaping hole, the storm at his back. “You're all alone now, Ada. You have even less than I do.” He gave one short, barking laugh, and then he was tracing a spell with such speed she didn't even have time to see it before he was gone. It hung in the shattered air, surrounded by flames, but by then she already knew what it was. The little sparks cascading to the ground told her enough. It was the same spell she'd sent William through. Christian had escaped through another doorway, just like her father had used.

You're all alone now, Ada.

Father. William. Her heart tightening in horror, Ada whirled and raced for William's stables.

She roared into the storm, Maiden screaming as they plunged down the drive, Ada drove her heels into Maiden's flanks relentlessly, pushing her faster and faster across the rain-ravaged roads. Her hooves slid and stuck in the mud, and her breath came in labored pants as the rain washed the lather from her neck, but she did not slow.

On any other horse, it was a day's ride. On Maiden, they made it in hours. Still, it seemed an eternity passed before they blew through the gate that hung broken on its hinges and raced down the once tree-lined drive.

But now the trees were charred, blackened stumps, curled in on themselves and still burning from the inside out. The sickened feeling in the pit of Ada's stomach told her what she would see before she rounded the final bend.

Despite the storm, the hungry blue flames had been visible for miles.

Mud-covered heaps scattered across the huge expanse of lawns and she gasped in horror as she realized they were her father's guards, bloody and most were burned beyond recognition. The duke's crumpled form took shape as she neared the inferno that had once been her home, and she leapt from the horse and raced toward him, stumbling over her skirts, falling to her knees in the mud at his side. “Father!” she wailed. Her eyes searched the devastation, looking for help, for anything alive. Nearby another still form caught her attention and she crawled through the mud, unmindful of her tearing, filthy dress, keeping one hand on her father's chest, unwilling to let him go. A horrified screech erupted from her throat as she realized who she was staring at.

William, his eyes wide and unseeing.

No. No, no no no no. Not William. He was so kind. So good. I never got to tell him—

She heard a low, agonized moan and stumbled back to the duke's side, ducking in terror as lightning smashed into the manor a breath away, sending sparks shooting through the air. “They're gone, Ada. They're all gone. They… they were… trapped inside,” her father whispered.

In horror, Ada's eyes swept back to the house, but there was nothing left. No one could have survived that. It was a massive inferno, so hot that even through the hellish storm the heat singed her eyelashes.

Her heart hardened in her chest, and when she leaned close to her father's ear to be heard over the storm, her voice was icy and flat and terrifying. “I'll find him, Father. I'll destroy everything he has. He will pay for this.”

Forgive me, Charity. Forgive me for what I must do.
Her eyes swept to William again, and the sobs fought for control over her strength.
He did not deserve this.

Her father's grip was surprisingly strong as he grabbed her arm, and his gaze darkened until no sign of hopelessness remained. “Then you'll need help. We will summon the Edrens.”

****

Her father's retribution was fast and brutal. He did not go after Christian alone. Since it had been an army of Carules who had attacked him, he killed any Carules in his path.

And Ada led them.

Lost to the pain that threatened to choke her every single second, she refused to think, refused to feel. All she allowed herself to do is hunt. And hunt she did.

The sides were formed. The Carules joined Christian because he taught them to be warriors, to protect themselves against the duke's vicious attacks. The Edrens were eager to follow the Duke of Adlington in their quest for blood, for vengeance due to those responsible for the Adlington massacre. Their pride had been wounded, being slaughtered by Carules.

Her father wanted to systematically move across Europe and wipe the Carules race off the earth. But Ada didn't care about the Carules. She wanted Christian. She wanted him to pay. And her father's plan was too slow.

She left his army and went on her own, blood hunger making her irrational and furious. She didn't care if she came face to face with all of Christian's forces at once, if he was in that crowd, she would find him and she would kill him.

The line between love and hate is a fine one.

“Little one. You've strayed far from camp.” Harrison's voice would have made her jump, once, but now she only stared at him dully through the trees as he appeared like a wraith, Davis at his side. Their black skin blended with the shadows, so that they seemed to come and go with spirits in the light. They'd never told her how they'd survived the manor fire, and she'd never asked. There were secrets there, secrets her father didn't want told, and Ada had only energy for seeking death, not seeking answers.

“My father is taking too long. Christian is going to escape and I must find him.”
William's memory waits for justice.

Harrison and Davis exchanged a long look, shadows from Ada's fire dancing across their faces, casting monstrous shadows. Slowly, they sat across from her. “What are you cooking?”

“Bunny.” Ada nearly sobbed. She had killed William's rabbit and felt horrible. Now she killed lots of them and every single one reminded her of him. Of that first time she met him. Of that smile and the fact that she had told him she would never love him.

When in fact, she had.

“It looks like a deformed brick.” Harrison poked at it and she shooed his hand away.

“It's bunny. If you want some, I'd suggest you stop mocking it.”

They ate in silence. She noticed they both tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to hide the faces they pulled at the taste of her rabbit, but she didn't taste it at all. She hadn't tasted anything for months. Hadn't felt, hadn't tasted, hadn't seen or heard beyond what she had to.

“Christian's army is only two days' ride away, and growing rapidly,” she finally said as she smothered her fire, brushing dirt over it. Always, there was the temptation to leave it burning in the hopes that someone would discover it and attack, and she could fight back. But she had not completely lost her mind.

Not yet.

“We will go with you,” Davis said with a firm nod. Harrison, next to him, grunted in agreement as they rolled out their sleeping mats.

“I doubt very much that I will survive this,” she pointed out, because she was fairly positive they'd both lost their minds as much as she had.

Harrison grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the background. Davis shrugged. “Perhaps living is overrated.”

If it hurt like this very much longer, then yes, living was very much overrated.