The Rise of the Dark Lord Page 14

Have found new meaning for my love for Sebastian Wilding as may not have unreserved blessing of his father, but totally have Ash.

  And new meaning was not (all) about my guy nipping out to go get me some breakfast.

  Though, that was totally awesome too.

  This is what just (well, about ten minutes ago) happened:

  I was on top and really into it (as usual) but also timing it (as usual) because, although Ash was okay with me taking myself there while he watched, he never let me take him there while I was on top.

  So, before he got close to there and thus took over, and I had him where I wanted him (watching how much he liked watching me, and other things I was doing), it swept over me.

  I couldn’t control it so bent to him, cradled his jaw in my hand and begged, “Promise me we’ll never become that.”

  “Matty,” he murmured, his hands at my hips digging in.

  “Promise me, baby.”

  I knew he got me when, of course, he flipped me, laced his fingers tight in mine, pressed them to the bed and totally took over.

  “Ash.”

  “That is not us,” he growled.

  He was referring to what I was referring to.

  Cystiennien and Maithieliel’s love going so wrong.

  Okay, and yeah, Ash could make love.

  But, uh, I have not shared yet that Ash could also fuck.

  I mean, seriously.

  And this was major real, what we were doing, and where I’d taken it, so if I’d have called it, I would have thought he’d go about communicating through lovemaking.

  He was not going to do that.

  He was going to communicate through fucking me.

  Thoroughly.

  “We understand what we have,” he bit out.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “I died for it and you watched me.”

  “Yes,” I puffed.

  “Our time is not infinite. We know how precious it is.”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “I would have found you even if you weren’t destined for me, Matty.”

  Oh.

  My.

  Goddess.

  “Really?” Now I was trying not to cry (or come, or both).

  He ground in deep and grunted, “Really.”

  I then succeeded in not crying.

  Because I started coming.

  Yeah, oh-so-seriously.

  My man could fuck.

  And he so totally loved me.

  Mm…

  Yippee.

  12 April

  Obviously, since we were in England, it was time to get down to some business.

  So we did.

  First up, I phoned home, and since BecBec still wasn’t engaging, I talked to Sar and filled him in with all that went down in the Realm.

  He was elated at the “show of steel” (those were his words) of his king, promised me that he’d share things with BecBec and let me know what came of that.

  So, onward.

  Ash and I went to Cambridge to go to The Royal Institute of Psychical Research so I could share my new strategy.

  Was good to see the old dudes again.

  Was good to give Dr. Bennett (Ambrose Bennett, the Executive Director of the Institute) a hug.

  Was shocking to sit in front of all the watchers of the Institute, every last one, this for the first time, and see that the average age was not as I suspected, two hundred and fifty-three, but there were a ton of young dudes there too.

  Aidan had come back to England as well, and sat at the head table with me, Ash and Dr. Bennett, and he explained this was news to me because, “during last year’s shenanigans, they were all in the field.”

  Shenanigans.

  Huh.

  Sat down with a number of members to hear what they had to say.

  Sat down with Aidan to share what happened in the Realm.

  He was keen to know, as he would be, having a particular interest in the Fae.

  After gave him the lowdown, he looked contemplative.

  “Did you know all of that? About Maithieliel wiping out the fort people?” I asked him.

  “No,” he answered.

  “Do you think Cystien will keep her sequestered?” Ash asked.

  “I don’t know,” Aidan answered.

  Fantastic.

  Aidan sat back.

  Then he shared.

  “The Fae are so ancient, their origin story is unknown, even in lore. But there is much said about the Dark Fae.”

  Dark Fae?

  Oh boy.

  “No, Matty.” Aidan saw my reaction. “The Dark weren’t bad and the Light good. It was only a way to describe their appearance. Dark elves had black hair and earthstone eyes. Light elves have lighter-colored hair and gemstone eyes. Many think the Dark were even more ancient than the Light. That the Light progressed from the Dark as we humans progressed from Neanderthal man, though they were not a subspecies, just the originals. That the Dark went out of existence because they found a way to make that so because they’d been around so long, they tired of living. There’s much conjecture about the two different races within the elfin race, and it’s difficult to know much about the Dark because, until I saw Cystiennien, I was under the impression there were no Dark left.”

  Hmm.

  “Some say the Dark had even more heightened magic than the Light,” Aidan carried on. “And as you know, elfin magic is extreme, so that would be quite something. Others say they were the warrior caste, the protectors of the whole race, and back then, there were other beings and war was constant. But when the elves wiped out all their enemies, the warrior caste had lost its purpose and they found an alternate universe and left en masse, never to return.”

  I had enough trouble with the current universe, I didn’t even want to think of the alternate ones.

  Aidan kept talking. “Though, the part about the creation of the Realm isn’t a surprise. It’s known that the King of the Elves love for his Queen was so great, and his magic so immense, he created the Realm as a testimony of the depth of his love for her.”

  Stupid Maithieliel.

  “So Cystien is one of these warrior elves,” I deduced.

  “If that’s what they were.”

  “That’s what they are.”

  Aidan and I both looked to Ash.

  Okay, I could tell by the look on his face it was “later.”

  “You know something?” Aidan queried when Ash didn’t say more.

  Ash looked to me, to Aidan, to me, then shifted in his seat, not like he was uncomfortable, as such.

  It was something else.

  I braced.

  “The reason why Cystiennien is the only one who gives permission for an elf to sing the Lament is because Cystiennien is the only Fae with the power to bestow this magic on another elf to give.”

  “That makes sense,” Aidan murmured.

  “There’s more,” Ash stated.

  Aidan and I kept staring at Ash, but I had a feeling I was the only one holding my breath.

  “I’m turning Fae.”

  Right, so, I don’t think I’ve ever in my life fainted.

  I was in danger of doing it then.

  To stop myself from passing out, I shouted, “What!?!”

  Ash looked to me. “This is why the Queen so desperately wanted to sing the Lament to her lover.”

  “But…but…everyone said he’d turn to dust and all that,” I protested.

  “There’s a Lament that will give back life. That’s the one that is most often bestowed. However, the Lament Cystiennien gave BecBec to use when I needed it was a different kind.”

  Holy crap!

  No wonder the Evil Queen was so pissed.

  “It is very rare that’s on offer,” Ash said on a sigh. “But, apparently, Cystiennien felt I’d need some additional power in order to protect you.”

  “So…you’re immortal?!?”

  Yup.

  Again shouting.

  “No.”

&n
bsp; Oh.

  “But—” I began.

  “Your life will be long, as you’re a witch,” Ash reminded me. “My life would be longer, because you can give me elixirs to make it so. Now, not only do you not have to do that, I’ll gain strength, and I might gain height as well as muscle mass.”

  “Wings?” I squeaked.

  Ash looked gloomy.

  “OhmyGoddess, you’re going to grow wings” I whispered.

  “Apparently.”

  OhmyGoddess!

  Wings are so rad!

  “But you won’t be immortal,” Aidan put in.

  Ash shook his head. “I’m still human. But now I’m also Fae.”

  “And that was what Maithieliel wanted. Her lover to be turned Fae, so she’d have him longer, if not forever,” Aiden surmised.

  “Yes and no, she wanted him for as long as she could have him, but she’s barking, so even though that magic doesn’t exist, to turn human full Fae, in other words, immortal, she didn’t care.”

  I was so done talking about Maithieliel.

  Especially now!

  “Are you noticing any changes?” I asked, though I hadn’t noticed any.

  “I’ve had to buy some new shirts and trousers. I just didn’t know why, until Cystiennien took me aside and explained things to me.”

  Right.

  Now I was ticked.

  “You went shopping without me?” I snapped.

  There was only one good thing about that.

  It made Ash look amused.

  I couldn’t remain mad.

  I was bopping up and down in my chair.

  “So how long are the wings going to take to form?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. He said they’d appear ‘when I needed them.’”

  “That’ll be one hell of a surprise,” Aidan muttered.

  Ash looked gloomy again.

  “That was why the elfin rope didn’t hold you,” I guessed. “Because Cystien gave you some of his mojo.”

  “It held. It just wasn’t going to keep hold. If given enough time, I would have been able to get free. I felt the same with the magic bars of our cell. I couldn’t get through, but I sensed, if I had long enough, I’d find a way. I just didn’t, at the time, understand why I thought that. Now I know that it’s because what I have is from Cystien, and nothing will hold Cystien. He’s that powerful. Maithieliel either forgot that or thought he’d weakened over the millennia.”

  “Do you have any other kind of magic?” Aidan asked.

  “Cystien said things would manifest ‘how they manifested,’” Ash answered. “Though, he’s conjecturing, that since I’m the son of a witch and can already hold magic, the results of this will be, as he put it, ‘interesting.’”

  “This is so cool,” I breathed.

  Ash didn’t look like he agreed.

  Aidan was watching Ash like Aidan was what he was, a watcher at The Royal Institute for Psychical Research and Ash was a fascinating subject.

  Ash was always fascinating to me.

  But I could not wait for him to get wings!

  Next up was a visit with the men from Le Société, and I can sum that up super quick seeing as not many of them sat down with me.

  Those with partners who were Traditionalists were keeping their distance, though I was told that my new bent of finding out what people wanted before I imposed what I wanted on everybody had been looked on favorably.

  The others were just in my camp.

  Period.

  Dot.

  Where The Mathilda went, they followed.

  So…there you go.

  PS on that: Some okay news with Le Société is that Marcus impressed on them we would have never known about the sitch in the Realm if I hadn’t done what I’d done with BecBec and the guys.

  And as it was super important all that happened, Marcus pressed it that it was super good that I intervened with the whole BecBec thing “as Cystiennien always wished.”

  So they might not all be down with me.

  They were no longer pissed at me about that.

  Hurrah!

  Now, get this, Ash and Aidan and I were off because I had my first scheduled meeting to have a sit down to listen to what some supernaturals had to say.

  And, maybe not surprisingly, they were my father’s people.

  I was going to hang with the Vampyre Dominion.

  In Transylvania.

  (Okay, it’s actually Romania, but it’s also Transylvania!)

  Eep!

  21 May

  I know, I know.

  It’s been a long time since I journaled.

  But I was hanging with my father’s people.

  (That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking with it.)

  This is how it went when I first clapped eyes on Castle Noapte (the seat of the Vampyre Dominion):

  “Shut up!” (Me)

  Deep sigh. (Ash)

  “We are so totally never leaving here.” (Me)

  Deeper sigh. (Ash)

  Low chuckle. (Aidan)

  Yeah, it was just…that…gorgeous.

  Topping a dark mountain, the stone walls were black, the roofs blood red, the trees about it dense, the roads to it misty, the foundation of it rocky.

  It was huge.

  It was towering.

  It was formidable.

  It was terrifying.

  I adored it.

  We arrived in the day so, since the head honchos that lived at Castle Noapte were purists (as in devout, as in, to be considered head honchos and leaders of the Dominion, they’d vowed while in service to practice the ancient ways of the vampyre, so they didn’t take any potions or slather on any lotions so they could walk in the sun and were completely nocturnal), we couldn’t meet them upon arrival.

  As an aside, I did not think I could be a nocturnal type of gal.

  I could do a binge watch into the wee hours and murder a girls’ night out, wringing it for all it was worth, even if the end of the fun came with the rise of the sun.

  But mostly, I liked sleep so I tried to be in bed by ten.

  I had vampire blood though, so I’d find it didn’t take long for me to fit right in.

  We had some gals who settled us in our rooms and then some head gal (I knew this because the chicks who settled us in wore virgin-sacrifice white and the head chick wore blood red) came and shared that they were delighted that we were there, but they had their monthly orgy planned that night, and although we were welcome to attend, they were afraid they couldn’t delay it as it had never been delayed for five hundred years.

  I was kinda interested, not in participating, in watching.

  Before I could ask, Ash flatly refused.

  Humph.

  How was I going to get to know all the supernaturals if Ash played a wet blanket?

  Ugh.

  Next night, red-wearing chick came to take us to the vampyre Şefs (that was what they were called, it’s Romanian for “chief”…not to mention cool).

  (By the way, she had a number of puncture marks on her neck and looked a wee bit pale.)

  Aidan met us in the hall.

  We walked the miles and miles and miles it took to get to some double doors on the first floor.

  Ash stopped us at the double doors and asked, “They’ll respect Mathilda?”

  “Of course,” the chick replied.

  “As in, they’ll be presentable?” Ash pressed.

  “But…of course,” the chick repeated.

  “The way I, as her partner, standing at her side, would expect them to be presentable?” Ash pushed.

  Yeesh.

  What was with him?

  Her eyeballs scanned the area of her forehead before she mumbled, “One moment,” slipped through the double doors and disappeared.

  “What’s that about?” I asked Ash.

  He scowled at the double doors.

  “What’s that about?” I asked Aidan.

  Just in case you didn’t figure it out, Aidan was with us be
cause he wanted to be.

  I mean, we were in the seat of the vampires.

  And supernatural shit was his gig.

  And the Institute had lifted a centuries-long ban on its watchers interacting with subjects.

  So he wasn’t going to miss this.

  “How far have you gotten in your reading about vampires?” Aidan asked.

  “I got waylaid in all my research by getting kidnapped, losing a friend, my boyfriend getting shot, moving back home, starting another business, being attacked at Target, planning a war, my other boyfriend kinda-sorta breaking up with me, signing a huge-ass book deal, deciding against planning a war, starting a social media empire, then abandoning it due to busyness of life, descending into the Elfin Realm, getting thrown into gaol—”

  “Your father is a vampire,” Aidan cut me off to state.

  “So?”

  Aidan looked to Ash.

  “They’re sexual,” Ash grunted.

  “So?” I asked.

  Ash looked to Aidan.

  “Your presentable-to-receive-company and their presentable-to-receive-company are two different things,” Aidan said.

  “And?” I asked.

  Aidan looked to Ash.

  “Mathilda, anything could be happening down there. We could walk in and they’d all be getting sucked off or they’d carry on a conversation with you in the middle of fucking one of their women or they could be fingering one of their disciples, keeping her on the verge of orgasm without letting her—”

  I waved my hand in his face. “I got it.”

  We all faced the doors, but I did it feeling kind of sick.

  Don’t ask me why.

  (Okay, I knew why.)

  “I thought they had their orgy last night,” I mumbled.

  “That was the ritual blood orgy,” Aidan said.

  “What?”

  “They fed last night,” Aidan explained.

  “And fucked,” Ash muttered.

  I was discovering a common theme in supernatural personalities.

  No wonder they’d been romanticized out the ying-yang.

  They all seemed to have indefatigable hard-ons.

  And since everyone apparently knew about this ritual, I was wondering why, in planning our little trip, they didn’t delay our departure for twenty-four hours.