Shadow Descendant (Descendants Book 1) Read online

  She had read through Madalena's books during her time at the penthouse, looking for relatively simple spells she could pull off on the first or second try. She'd found one she hoped would work for her now; her life was literally on the line.

  Eserem, she whispered to the knife. Raphael may have enchanted the knife to not harm him; that didn't mean it couldn't do other things.

  The knife slipped from her hand, drifting down towards her arms. She stiffened.

  The knife cut the invisible bonds that tied her to the chair. She saw Raphael's eyes widen. Now was the time to use the best non magical element she had at her disposal. Surprise.

  She darted away from the chair, shouting a Binding spell, hoping that it would hold Raphael still. But he repelled the spell, reaching out to grab her by the throat, slamming her onto the hard stone floor with such force that she was temporarily dizzy.

  Naomi gasped for air as he tightened his grip. He held up his other hand; the knife floated into his palm. He pressed it to her throat, hard enough to draw blood, his eyes pinned on hers in intense concentration.

  In horror, Naomi realized that her mouth was moving; a word was being forced from her lips. Seffa. He was using magic to force her to utter the spell.

  How was that possible? And if so why hadn't he done that before?

  He's desperate, she realized. The Stone required her willing sacrifice; he couldn't force her. Could her?

  Something did stir beneath her senses; it was the same sensation that filled her every time she uttered a spell, akin to an electrical current that flowed through her.

  She shut her eyes, trying to recall her training, to close her mind to him, but it was too late; she felt his invasive presence in her mind. Her lips were moving against her will, and he dragged the knife across her throat, drawing blood—

  She heard a sudden ruckus outside the door; shouts and the sounds of bodies slamming against walls, doors being crashed in. Hope swelled in her chest; the others were here. Alaric's here.

  The thought of him again invigorated her, and though blood seeped from the gaping wound in her throat, and a heavy weakness seeped into every pore of her body, she opened her eyes and focused on Raphael. A sense of calm seized her as she silently issued a spell for stillness. Her lips stopped moving, and Raphael let out a snarl of rage.

  The door crashed in. Elias entered in a flash, yanking Raphael off of her. Alaric appeared at her side, shaking as he gathered her in his arms. She focused on his face as the room faded away; this Alaric was nothing like the monster in her mind. Despair infused his ashen face; blood tears trickled down his cheeks.

  "Hold on, Naomi," he whispered. "Please, my love. Hold on."

  She tried to hold on, but her consciousness slipped from her like gossamer, and there was only darkness.

  Chapter 25

  "She's lost a lot of blood. Too much blood," Alaric shouted, panic flowing through him. He cradled an unconscious Naomi in his arms as he entered Madalena's private plane.

  Madalena trailed close behind as he set Naomi down in one of the reclining chairs. He'd torn the sleeve of his shirt off to use as a makeshift tourniquet for the bleeding wound on Naomi's throat; it staunched the bleeding. But Naomi still looked pale, and her breathing was shallow. He could hear her heartbeat only faintly pounding against her ribs.

  "Where's the nearest hospital?"

  "Fifty miles away, on the mainland," Madalena said, kneeling by Naomi's side.

  "She won't make it that long." Searing agony filled his chest as he said the words. His throat constricted. He wouldn't let Naomi die. "I need to give her my blood."

  Madalena paled, her eyes locking with his. They both knew what this meant.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. There's no time. You can always undo it later."

  "It's more complicated than—“

  "I don't care!" Alaric shouted. "She's dying. Are you going to help or do I have to do it myself?"

  Madalena nodded. She pressed her hand to the side of Naomi's head, murmuring a spell he could not hear into her left ear.

  Alaric bit his wrist, leaning down to press the bleeding wound to Naomi's parted lips. Though she remained unconscious, she began to drink, and her color slowly returned to normal.

  When he removed his wrist from her mouth, her breathing was steadier, her cheeks flushed with blood. He closed his eyes, his relief outweighing all thoughts of the ramifications of what he'd just done.

  He felt multiple pairs of eyes on him and turned. Casimir and Elias had entered the plane; they looked back and forth between him and the sleeping Naomi, slack jawed. They knew what he'd just done.

  "She was dying," Alaric muttered, feeling defensive. "Did you find Raphael?"

  "No," Elias said, tearing his eyes away from Naomi. "We thoroughly searched the grounds. All the other witches he had as guards are dead."

  "I told you to keep at least one of them alive," Madalena scolded, as Casimir and Elias took their seats, buckling themselves in.

  "There was no time for that. They would have killed us if we didn't kill them first," Casimir said. "Believe me, we're just as frustrated as you are."

  "Let's just get off this bloody island," Alaric said, taking his seat next to Naomi. He wanted her back at the relative safety of his estate.

  Back at Raphael's manor, they'd searched for any islands Raphael might have an association with, locating a small island just north of Scotland; his family had once owned a summer estate there. It was a giant gamble coming here, Raphael had left no trace of his presence on the island. They chose it because it was the closest island to where they were, and because they knew the Order had met there only three weeks prior.

  When they descended upon the island via Madalena's private plane, they'd only found a dozen Order members guarding the estate. Alaric assumed the lack of many guards was due to Raphael's arrogant assumption that they'd never be able to find him, or his desire to keep Naomi's presence relatively quiet from other Order members. He had no doubt that if the hundreds of Order members knew she was here, they'd descend upon the small island in droves.

  He'd left Madalena and the others to focus on fighting off the guards, following Naomi's scent to a room at the far end of the central hallway. Fury exploded in his chest at the sight of Raphael hovering over his Naomi, but there had been no time to kill Raphael the way he wanted; the coward apparated moments after Alaric and Elias charged into the room.

  Had he entered the room seconds later, Raphael would have killed Naomi. At the thought, he reached out to grip her hand. She wasn't going to continue working with the Alliance; her Descendant status be damned. He wouldn't allow her to keep risking her life.

  He barely paid attention to the tense conversation Madalena and the others shared, his entire focus remained on Naomi's sleeping form, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of her breaths.

  When they arrived at his estate, he carried Naomi into his bedroom. Even her guest room was too far; he needed her as close to him as possible.

  The others seemed to sense this, leaving him alone—except for Kat. Kat arrived in his bedroom as Alaric was settling Naomi in his bed; she rushed to her niece's side with a strangled cry.

  "Naomi," she whispered. "Oh my God. Oh my God . . . " She pressed her hand to her mouth, tears coursing down her face. He now noticed how gaunt and pale Kat looked. When Kat learned of Naomi's abduction, Fiona told him she almost used the thrall to force her to stay at the estate. She looked as if she hadn't slept or eaten in days.

  "She'll be fine," he assured her, "she just needs to rest."

  Kat's eyes strayed to the wound on Naomi's throat, and her eyes widened in alarm.

  "Raphael," he bit out, answering her silent question. "She lost a lot of blood."

  "But . . . her skin is flushed," Kat replied, "and warm."

  Alaric hesitated. Kat knew the rules of blood sharing, she'd be furious to learn he'd given her niece blood. But she'd find out sooner or later.

 
"I had to give her my blood. She would have died, Katherine."

  Kat tore her eyes away from Naomi, glaring at him.

  "How could you?" she demanded. "Naomi didn't even have a choice!"

  "Would you rather I let her die?" Alaric snarled, his patience running thin. "Madalena can undo it when she wakes. In fact, I'll insist upon it," he said, though something inside him rebelled at the thought.

  This seemed to satisfy Kat though she still glared at him. She turned back to Naomi, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face.

  "Naomi was only fifteen when I took her in," she murmured, tears brimming in her eyes. "She was still shell shocked over what happened to her parents. She stayed in bed for two weeks, not saying a word. Do you know what coaxed her out of bed? A local museum exhibit her parents helped set up. She wanted to go honor them, even though she was still grieving. Even though she was just a child. I wanted to tell her who she really was. Who her parents really were. But my sister insisted that I keep her in the dark. She kept telling me, 'They'll try to kill her, Kat. They'll kill my baby girl. If something happens to us, I want you to keep her safe'." Kat shook her head, wiping her eyes. "I should have done a better job of protecting her."

  "You did an excellent job protecting her," Alaric said swiftly. "The Order couldn't trace her at all while she lived with you."

  "Because of the Locking spell," Kat protested. "She just seemed like an ordinary human."

  "It's still no small feat. Naomi's magic has always been simmering beneath the surface. Not only did you keep her safe . . . you helped raise her into the woman she is today. She's strong. And brave," he added, admiration filling him as he said the words. "Think of all she's gone through the past couple of weeks. She could have easily gone to a safe house. She chose to stay with us and fight." He didn't add that he had every intention of convincing her to go to a safe house when she awoke.

  Kat gave him a weak nod, her eyes still on Naomi's sleeping face.

  They fell into a long and companionable silence, remaining at Naomi's side until the sky darkened. Only then did Kat get to her feet. "If I don't sleep, I'll pass out. I want to be wide awake when she comes to."

  She moved to the doorway, but something compelled him to stop her.

  "Katherine . . . " he said. She paused, glancing back at him. "I'll never hurt her. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. You have my word."

  She studied him for a long moment as if trying to ascertain the truth of his words. Finally, she nodded, though he couldn't read her expression.

  "Will you tell me when she wakes?" she asked, looking away from him.

  "Of course."

  He remained at Naomi's side, not moving a muscle, until the sun rose in the sky and she stirred.

  Naomi's beautiful eyes fluttered open, and her gaze settled on him. He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly in his. She smiled, her entire face lighting up at the sight of him.

  "You're back at my estate," he whispered. "You're safe now." He wasn't eager to tell her that he'd given her his blood and what that meant, so he forced himself to his feet. "Your aunt wanted me to tell her when you awoke. I'll go and—“

  "No," she said, reaching for his hand. "Stay. Please."

  He sat back down, keeping her hand firm in his. She closed her eyes and took a breath. When she opened them, they were full of remembered pain.

  "Raphael—“ she began.

  "No," he said, hatred skittering through him at the sound of the witch's name. "Let Madalena and the others worry about him and the Order. For now, you just need to rest and recover."

  "I feel fine," Naomi said. "I know it'll take a lot of time for me to forget what Raphael did to my mind. But physically, I feel . . . perfect."

  She frowned, reaching up to touch the jagged scar that had formed along the base of her throat. His hear plummeted in his chest; it wouldn't take long for Naomi to put two and two together.

  "You lost a lot of blood," he said, forcing the words past his dry lips. "You weren't going to make it to a hospital."

  "You gave me your blood."

  He looked at her. She didn't look remotely surprised. Or angry.

  "Yes. How did you know?"

  "I could sense it somehow," she said. "Even though I was unconscious. I sensed it . . . and I accepted it. Thank you, Alaric. You saved my life. Again."

  She was looking at him with admiration, and he hated himself. She didn't know what this meant.

  "Naomi, when a vampire gives you his blood . . . a vampire who desires you, like I do . . . it's more than just a simple medical transfusion."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Amongst vampires, sharing blood is momentous. It forms a bond. By giving you my blood . . . " He almost didn't want to continue; didn't want to see the loving look on her face turn to one of fury. "I mated you, Naomi. We're mates. It's like being married in the human world."

  Chapter 26

  Naomi considered his words. Alaric sat tensely across from her, his eyes pinned to her face.

  She felt no anger at his words, or fear, or surprise, or anything she was supposed to feel right now. Instead, she only felt a calm acceptance. No . . . a happy acceptance. After everything she'd experienced, she was done with fear. With hiding.

  "When I was with Raphael, he made me see things," she said, after a long stretch of silence. "I saw you . . . I saw you killing humans, witches, even other vampires."

  Alaric blanched. Not looking at her, he stood. But she reached out and grabbed his hand, holding him still.

  "But it didn't have the effect he wanted," she continued. "I didn't know or recognize that Alaric. He looked nothing like the vampire I know. Alaric . . . it was thinking of you that brought me out of the darkness. The Alaric I know is the one whose saved my life and the lives of others. The one who cares about saving lives so much that he joined the Alliance. The one— " she hesitated, but made herself continue, "the one I love."

  The silence that followed her words was heavy with tension. Alaric stiffened, astonishment and something else she couldn't identify flickering in his eyes, as she continued, "I don't want you to break the bond. I want to be with you, Alaric. I love you."

  "You don't know what you're saying," he bit out, yanking his hand from hers and standing. "You don't know me well enough to—“

  "I know enough," Naomi interrupted, "and I know I love you."

  "What Raphael showed you was accurate. I was—I am a killer, Naomi. I've killed indiscriminately. I used to enjoy it. I still do."

  "That's who you were," she protested, her heart breaking at his reaction, "it's not who you are now. You won't change how I feel about you."

  "How about this?" Alaric snarled. "I'm responsible for the death of the only woman I've loved!"

  Shock skittered through her. He was glaring down at her, his breathing labored, a sheen of blood tears in his eyes.

  "How?" she whispered.

  "Bloody hell, Naomi— "

  "Tell me!" Naomi repeated, sliding out of bed to stand in front of him. She clenched her fists at her sides, her breathing rapid with anger. "You want me to believe you're a monster, you want to push me away—then prove it. Tell me who you are!"

  "Her name was Ileana," he said, pain filling his eyes as he said her name, and Naomi had to ignore the rise of jealousy that swelled in her chest at the mention of another woman's name. "She changed me for the better. Before her, I was nothing more than a ruthless killer. With her, I saw the error of my ways; I wanted to change who I was. Become a better creature—for her. But I had a lot of enemies; people who remembered the things I'd done. After we got engaged, Ileana left to visit her family in France. My enemies had been watching us. They knew she was important to me. As soon as we were apart, they killed her. Brutally. They left her body in my home for me to find."

  His tears were flowing freely now; horror and shock at the memory had rendered him still. Naomi's heart ached for him.

  "Alaric," she whispered. "What happened to I
leana wasn't your—“

  "Don't say that. It's not true. She would still be alive if I hadn't loved her. You've seen what I've done, what I'm capable of."

  "In the past, Alaric! You're punishing yourself over things that happened decades—centuries ago! None of that matters. I love the Alaric of the present."

  She moved towards him. To her relief, he didn't step back as she pressed her hand to his cold cheek. Turmoil filled his eyes as he looked down at her.

  "You are worthy of love," she whispered.

  "Ileana's murder destroyed me. If—if something were to happen to you—“

  "Magic has taught me something that's very important. To live in the present. To not worry about what might come— or what has already happened," she murmured, searching his eyes. "And now? In this moment? I love you, Alaric. The you of now."

  She stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. He returned her kiss, and she could feel his desire for her; but something held him back.

  He ended their kiss and stepped back from her, closing his eyes. Tears filled her eyes at his rejection, her heart splintering in her chest.

  "There's a spell; it's from the days when witches were at open war with vampires. It'll remove our Blood Bond," he whispered, not looking at her.

  "Did you not hear a word I said?" Naomi demanded. "I don't care about your past. I love you, and I want to be bonded to—“

  "This is more than just about my past! I still have enemies out there who would love to take their revenge by killing another woman I care for. And your life is already in danger from the Order. I won't risk losing you," he said, finally looking at her, his voice wavering. "Even if we're not together, at least you'd be safe and alive. You're going to a safe house—today. We'll continue without you, I'll talk to Madalena. You're not the only Descendant, there are others we can still find. In the meanwhile, we'll continue tracking Raphael and the Order on our own."

  Anger took over her heartbreak. She straightened, dashing away her tears as she glared at him.