A Passage of Threats Read online

  “That’s because you’re a reckless little fool who never thinks twice before putting himself and his people in danger,” Jax shot back coldly.

  I looked around and noticed the hostility on the Maras’ faces as they took their hoods off. They were all superb, with shortish hair—even the females. I figured it was a cultural thing and made a note to ask them later, provided this conversation led to something constructive.

  “He’s already in danger, and so are his people,” I interjected, unwilling to let him poke my new Tritone friend. There weren’t enough people who had been kind and helpful to us, so I’d quickly learned to appreciate and protect the few who were. “Azazel is about to completely destroy Eritopia. He’s gaining ground everywhere, and we have to stop him. It’s either that or die.”

  “No, but seriously, what are you?” Jax ignored my statement completely. “I know a Druid when I see one, and I’m rather tired of succubi and incubi at this point, but you…you I cannot understand. What are you?”

  Hansa and Sverik scoffed almost simultaneously, and I felt tension flowing out of Draven, who didn’t take his eyes off Jax. I wrapped my fingers around the Druid’s wrist and squeezed gently as I smiled at Jax. I felt Draven relax slowly, trusting me to hold my own against the Mara.

  “I’m what’s called a sentry,” I replied. “I’m not from around here.”

  “That’s an understatement,” he muttered after a pause, then took a deep breath. “But very well. Let’s leave it at that. As for my disdain toward the Tritone’s way of handling a war alliance, rest assured I speak from personal experience with Zeriel. He really doesn’t think things through.”

  I noticed the guilt on Zeriel’s face as he looked away. The Mara and the Tritone clearly had history, and I made it a part of my mission to find out all I could about them.

  “However,” Jax continued. “I’m no fool. We’ve been doing fine on our own here, but we are perfectly aware that our luck will soon run out. My concern is that the alliance you’re proposing may not be worth our time or our lives, should we decide to put them on the line. You’d better bring something grand to the table, otherwise you will not have our support. There are few of us left, and we don’t intend to mindlessly charge into battle with a handful of amateurs.”

  “You underestimate the abilities of the succubi, milord,” Hansa replied, gritting her teeth.

  Jax’s gaze settled on the succubus, measuring her from head to toe. It was difficult to read his expression, as he maintained a cool composure.

  “I’ve not met a succubus I couldn’t bring to her knees in absolute obedience before she could even raise a hand against me,” he shot back, his voice low. “Rest assured, until that happens, I’m not underestimating anything.”

  Hansa was fast—much faster than I remembered. She drew her sword and brought it up to Jax’s neck. It happened in the fraction of a second, a silvery flash and a gust of air as her blade touched his skin, and she stood in front of him, her face inches from his. Jax was still, and Hansa grinned, their gazes locked on each other.

  “I hope I’ve managed to change your mind, milord,” she said.

  The Mara’s pupils dilated, and his eyes glowed for a moment—an incandescent amber yellow—enough to make Hansa take a few steps back. Her body trembled with each movement. She was clearly no longer in control. Jax didn’t break eye contact with her until she found her place next to me, breathing heavily as the mind control kept her muscles stiff. She was trying to fight it, her knuckles white and eyes shooting daggers at him, but the Mara didn’t let go that easily.

  The rest of us were frozen. Multiple scenarios ran through my head, each ending in some bloody way. The Maras were within their rights to retaliate. I raised my hand in what I hoped would be taken as a calming gesture. I didn’t want to try using my sentry abilities against him again. We were trying to form a peaceful alliance, not kill each other.

  “Jax, please, you’ve made your point,” I said to him.

  He kept his eyes on Hansa and smiled.

  “No, she’s made hers. She showed me hers. I showed her mine,” he said, then looked at me.

  Hansa was suddenly free, taking deep breaths and cursing under her breath as she put her sword away. She straightened her back and raised her chin proudly, and Jax nodded in return.

  “Let us talk, then,” he said and glanced at the Maras behind him.

  They stepped aside to clear a path for us to the city. Jax went first, and we followed. I looked over my shoulder and saw all the Maras’ eyes focused directly on me, occasionally glowing the same faint yellow I’d seen on Jax. Shivers ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure what they wanted from me, but I had a feeling they were trying their mind-bending skills on me, like Jax had done before them, and failing, just like I’d failed to use my mind-reading abilities on their lord.

  Jax guided us to a private hall that was dressed entirely in the same white marble with a smooth glossy finish. Giant candles melted in black iron chandeliers that hung from the tall, arched ceiling. We sat around a large table, and Maras served water and bowls of fruit.

  Draven brought Jax up to speed regarding Azazel’s advances on Eritopia and what we’d learned so far. He told him about the Oracles but kept the Daughter out of the conversation, using the same line I’d given Zeriel and stating that we had the Daughters’ support. Jax sat back in his chair quietly, listening to everything that Draven had to say. He occasionally looked at Hansa, whose gaze darted around the hall analyzing each Mara who stood by the wall staring blankly ahead.

  “These must be his bodyguards,” Hansa mumbled next to me.

  Draven continued his alliance speech. “We have the Lamias and Dearghs’ support, and the Tritones have been gracious enough to join us as well. There is a rogue incubi settlement not far from here, which I believe you know about, from what Zeriel has told me.”

  “What do you seek with them?” he asked, watching my brief exchange with Hansa.

  “Support. They’re loyal to Sverik, and, now that he’s out of Azazel’s prison, they’ll be willing to pledge their support and join our ranks. We need all the able bodies we can get,” Draven replied.

  “How do you know they’re his bodyguards?” I whispered to Hansa.

  “They’re well-built and highly attentive. You see them quiet and motionless, but watch me make a move and see how they react. They see and hear everything and follow our every gesture. I was too fast, even for them.” She grinned with satisfaction.

  I had a feeling she’d really enjoyed showing Jax that she was faster than him. Not that I could blame her. Despite my initial dismay at Hansa potentially ruining our alliance with the Maras, I couldn’t exactly fault her, but I wouldn’t have done it.

  “Now you’re the one underestimating us, succubus,” Jax interjected.

  Hansa and I stilled, then looked at him. He leaned back in his chair, smirking as a young Mara female brought him a golden chalice. He sipped slowly, licking his lips.

  “They’re not bodyguards. They are wards,” he added. “They follow me everywhere and ward off any spells or mental attacks aimed at me. They do not fight with their swords. They are very special creatures.”

  He snapped his fingers, and one of the Maras we were talking about took a few steps forward, standing next to Jax’s chair. He was young and tall, with a broad frame and eyes the color of pine forests. He removed his cloak, revealing his bare chest and leather pants, as well as the myriad of black ink tattoos on his entire upper body. I gasped as I recognized the tattoos as symbols from the swamp witches’ spell books.

  “That’s swamp witch magic,” I exclaimed. “Where’d you get that?”

  “All my wards have it. It’s how the Lord of Maras is protected. We once helped a swamp witch, and she returned the favor. Unlike the Tritones, who have yet to repay their debt to us,” Jax replied and gave Zeriel a reprimanding look.

  The Tritone sighed and put his arms forward on the table, a look of defeat on his face.


  “Fine, take it now. Just don’t take too much and don’t leave any marks. I hate doing this,” he mumbled.

  “What is he talking about?” I asked Jax.

  “Pyrope. I saved Zeriel’s life. I saved his entire family from a most slow and painful death once.”

  “But what’s Pyrope?”

  “It’s a blood payment.” Zeriel sighed.

  A Mara approached him with a slim knife and another golden chalice in his hands. I wanted to say something, but I felt Draven’s hand beneath the table, his fingers digging into my thigh and prompting me to stay still. I watched as the Mara cut Zeriel’s arm and let the blood pour into the chalice for several minutes. Then, he licked his finger and dabbed it on the open wound. Zeriel’s cut healed instantly, leaving a faint scar behind. The Mara delivered the goblet to Jax, who took it and gulped it down in an instant.

  I stilled then, as the familiarity of the gesture brought back instant memories of home, The Shade…my family.

  “Zeriel hasn’t paid his debt in five months, but now the balance is restored.” Jax smiled and licked his lips. My jaw dropped as I watched his canines become sharper and longer as his tongue passed over them. Then the canines retreated slowly.

  My heart stopped for a second. The similarities continued to crash into me. Zeriel had told us they didn’t go out during the day. The drinking of blood. The fangs. The pale skin. The weird glow in their eyes and their mind-bending abilities were something new, but everything else pointed to the same species. Vampires. I had a feeling the Maras were somehow Eritopia’s version of vampires—just like Eritopia had its own brand of witches.

  “I’ve seen creatures like you before,” I croaked, as Zeriel gulped down some water. “Well, somewhat like you. You do have a couple of differentiating features, but your species is very familiar to me.”

  Jax looked at me, his eyes small and lips pursed, waiting for me to continue.

  “Back home, in my world, beyond the In-Between, they’re called vampires.” I leaned forward with bated breath. “Please, tell me more about your kind.”

  Jax frowned, examining my face for a long moment, before he began. “Well, there used to be more of us. Many more. But Azazel’s forces caught us by surprise. Many were killed in their sleep or by his wretched spells. This city is one of the last few safe places in Eritopia, but even this won’t last much longer. The swamp witch only managed to give the ward tattoos to the Maras you see in this hall before she was lured out of the city. Unfortunately, we didn’t know how to recreate the spell.” Jax paused.

  “What about the fangs? The blood?” I pressed, too interested in their physiology to care much about their history in this moment.

  “It’s how we feed. We drink red blood only. We try to limit ourselves to animals these days. Before Azazel, we used to find ourselves creatures outside our species to feed off whenever we needed. In return, we healed them and their loved ones when they needed it.”

  “Why just red blood? And do you only feed from other species, or do you also feed from other Maras?” My racing mind also couldn’t help but wonder whether they’d ever tried feeding off incubi or succubi, since their blood was silver and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I wondered if the Maras found it nourishing in any way, as the vampires I knew had never tasted anything other than red blood.

  “Silver blood is highly toxic to us. Silver in general. There’s something in the metal’s composition that just doesn’t work well for our immune system,” he replied, his gaze fixed on Sverik, who’d broken into a cold sweat. “And no, we don’t feed off each other. Our own blood doesn’t provide us with any sustenance, which is why we feed off other creatures. Nowadays it’s harder to find people willing to give us their blood, so we hunt animals from the woods nearby.”

  “And you don’t like the sunlight, either,” I said. “Aida’s brother saw Maras at the Sarang Marketplace a few days back in broad daylight. How does that work?”

  “The sun burns. Overexposure will kill a Mara. We do have a spell left from the swamp witches to protect us over short periods of time. Whoever you saw at Sarang was probably using the spell. We generally stick to our night cycle, as the bones of a Deargh really aren’t easy to come by these days.”

  The sun burns. Overexposure will kill. Just like our Shade vamps. They even relied on magic spells to protect themselves—probably the same fire protection spell we’d used to travel between volcanoes. It all felt so surreal.

  “How does one become a Mara?” I asked, desperate to know more.

  Jax gave me a confused look. “One does not become a Mara. One can only be born a Mara,” he replied.

  I stared, trying to process the information, then nodded slowly. In addition to the Maras’ ability to influence minds, this was a crucial difference between them and our vampires. A part of me had started to worry there might be some kind of Elder-counterpart here in Eritopia, but no. The Maras were a species in their own right, and they must be able to reproduce just like any other creature.

  “And the mind-bending? How does that work? How exactly do you influence minds?” I asked.

  “We cannot read minds, like you tried to do earlier.” He grinned at me, making me blush.

  So he had sensed it. He just didn’t show it.

  “We bend wills, plant suggestions. Hypnosis and persuasion, mostly. We make creatures forget or believe whatever we want them to believe, including that they could fly if they threw themselves off a cliff, or that fire doesn’t burn. Some of us have honed this skill to induce hallucinations.”

  “Mind tricks,” I concluded, completely in awe of what he was telling me. As a sentry, I had the ability to read emotions and control minds, while the Maras basically seemed to be masters of hypnotic trickery. Nevertheless, I was unable to read a Mara’s mind, which made me wonder whether Jax could use his powers on me. I considered the possibility of our mental abilities cancelling each other out.

  “Call them what you wish. They have kept us alive for millennia,” he replied. “Playing mind tricks on our invaders has become a solid trademark. But it won’t hold them off forever, which is why I must admit I am pleased to see you all here tonight with your alliance offer.”

  “How is White City still safe?” I asked. My eyes wandered around the hall and noticed Sverik shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Hansa was busy peeling a bright orange fruit. Zeriel was still working his way through some grapes, while Draven watched the exchange between the Mara and me.

  “The woods on the eastern side of this mountain are thick and dark. We have Maras stationed there all the time, taking turns mind-bending any curious creatures to go away. The last time we had Destroyers try to come in, we managed to plant illusions in their heads, enough to make them go back on their own, convinced that there was nothing beyond that forest for them to see. It was a close call, but I don’t know how long we have left before Azazel descends upon us. There are enough of us here to instill fear in small numbers trying to invade, even Destroyers. Unfortunately, we’ve not been able to push them into killing each other. Illusions and hysterias have worked quite well. Should they come in much larger numbers, however, I don’t think we’ll be so lucky.”

  I nodded and looked around the table once more. Sverik seemed nervous. He bit into his fingernails while his gaze darted from one Mara to another. Jax shot him a cold glance and lifted an eyebrow. Hansa, Draven, and I exchanged a few glances, waiting quietly to hear a pledge of allegiance, like the Dearghs and Lamias before.

  “It didn’t seem real at first,” he continued. “But seeing there are others out there resisting Azazel is what makes me want to join this fight. You have our word, our loyalty, and our strength, Druid.”

  A wave of relief washed over me, as I witnessed another species joining our war against Azazel. At the same time, I remembered the girls back at the mansion and my brother. They were still in danger, and we didn’t know how the Destroyers would get past the protective shield.

  “Than
k you, Jax,” Draven replied. “Your help is much needed and welcome. We’ve had a rough ride so far. Your strength will certainly help turn the tide in our favor again.”

  “The more of us there are, the higher our chance of success. Having the Oracles on our side is certainly one of the aspects that persuades me to join you,” Jax replied, then looked at Sverik persistently. “It’s good to see there are still incubi who haven’t succumbed to Azazel, either. I thought you were all gone.”

  Sverik shook his head, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “It wasn’t easy,” the incubus said. “I had to lose my brother to Destroyers to understand that my father made a mistake by aligning himself with Azazel. We’ll get more help once we reach the incubi settlement. They’ll be happy to stand up and fight with me, with us.”

  “Speaking of which, where is this settlement?” I asked Sverik.

  “I will take you to it,” Jax said before the incubus could reply. “They’re well hidden, but they were never able to cloak themselves from us. We know everything that moves around this mountain and beyond the woods. I have a feeling Sverik hasn’t seen this camp in a while and they know to not stay in one place for too long.”

  “Thank you,” I replied. “When can we leave?”

  “Within the hour, ideally. We’re better off traveling at night around these parts.”

  Zeriel then stood up, beaming at us. He seemed to have recovered his strength. He stretched his arms outward.

  “I will leave you with Jax, then, and be on my way,” the Tritone said.

  “Wait, why? I thought you were coming with us,” I replied, confused.

  Draven nudged me, enough to capture my attention. I noticed the disapproving look on his face and remembered Zeriel’s advances and their effect on him. I mentally grinned.

  “Have you not had enough of him already? Because I have,” he muttered.

  “Alas, I must go! I promised the Druid I’d rally more fighters for this alliance. I have a few doors to knock on,” Zeriel replied, then grinned seductively my way, prompting another scowl from Draven. “Mind you, if you want me to stay, I can stay!”