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The vampire stopped but didn’t turn. Marcus was reluctant to divulge more than necessary to an outsider of the zephyr Court, but he had little choice. He’d come this far. And he was desperate.
“The balance of power within our Court falters, and I will do whatever I must to protect my king. There is no one I can trust.” It was the truth, but it stung to admit it. To reveal it to a creature such as the one standing before him made bile burn his throat. The Goddess of Light humbled him once more. “You are a hunter. You are discreet. You owe fealty to none but your own. I’ve come because I have no other choice.”
Sirus kept his back to him. “Your king and your high priestess are not my concern.”
Marcus’s teeth grated. It’d been foolish to expect any semblance of honor from a creature like Sirus. There was no honor amongst monsters—especially not those for hire. Marcus was angry but not surprised. “How much?” he snapped with thinly veiled disgust. He would bargain. He’d come this far. What must be done must be done.
The vampire did turn then. Slowly. Until his cool, devoid gaze landed squarely on Marcus. Sirus stood in expectant silence. As if he’d been in this very position countless times before.
Marcus glowered, heat rising in his blood and shifting against the chill that threatened to consume him. “If you will not honor a debt of blood, how much will it take?” he repeated through gritted teeth.
Sirus merely watched him, saying nothing. It filled Marcus with bitter loathing. The vampire probably took dark pleasure in making him squirm. He’d probably played out this same routine with every other poor soul who had been desperate enough to venture to this forsaken place. Those desperate enough to strike a bargain with death. Marcus conceded his position, but it did not mean he had to play the part. He would not be forced to beg or fill the silence.
For what felt like several agonizing minutes, nothing but the soft babble of the stream and the swaying branches stretched between them. “What, exactly, is the contract?” the vampire asked coolly.
Marcus let out a deep, stuttering breath, trying to squelch his rioting nerves. The vampire might have been toying with him, but he had to continue. If a bargain could be struck, it was his duty to see it done. For his king. “Our High Priestess plots against the crown.” The words could not be unsaid now. “But she lacks the power to sway the full weight of Court in her favor. She is hunting something. An object of power she hopes will tip the scales. I need you to find it before she does and keep it hidden.”
The vampire cocked his head ever so slightly. “You didn’t come to ask me to kill her?”
Marcus scowled. Nestra was the High Priestess of the Temple of Light and a powerful entity amongst his people. She was nearly as beloved as the king himself. Marcus, like all zephyrs, had grown up following her guidance because he believed her to be blessed by the Goddess of Light. It was her rituals that drew magick to the Temple and their home, Strye. It was that power that protected them and kept their island hidden from the rest of the world.
In all his long years of life, Marcus’s faith in the Light had never wavered. His faith in their high priestess had. He’d witnessed the darkness grow within her. Nestra’s thirst for power had overcome her devotion to the Light long ago. If killing her would have brought an easy end to their dilemma, Marcus would have already done it himself.
But he needed time to unearth the full reach of her corruption amongst the ranks of Court, for her plot to overthrow the king to be made known. Her reputation ruined. Her power stripped away so that those loyal to her in Court would turn their backs on her pleas.
“She is still a beacon to my people,” Marcus explained with bitterness. “She will face whatever punishment King Thurin deems necessary when the time comes. I only need you to find what she is after and make sure it remains out of her reach.” To give him time.
The vampire didn’t argue his reasoning. “What does she hunt?” he asked, getting to the point.
Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat. In truth, he knew very little about what, precisely, Nestra was plotting or exactly what she was after. And that’s what gave him the most unease. Marcus was a skilled spymaster. He prided himself on seeing all the angles, being steps ahead, and knowing things no one could know. All he knew about the object of power Nestra hunted was that she had diverted many resources to its discovery. In all the years he’d spied on her for his king, she’d never shown her hand. Until now. Her overeagerness caused him that much more alarm. She was close to achieving her ends, and Marcus needed to move swiftly to see that she did not succeed.
“You will take the contract?” Marcus asked before he told Sirus more.
The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. “I will,” Sirus replied. “To satisfy my debt.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You will honor your blood debt?” he clarified to be sure.
“Yes,” Sirus declared. The word was pure ice.
Relief would have been welcome, but instead Marcus was struck by an overwhelming sense of dread. He had no doubt that if anyone could find the object Nestra was after before her paladins, it was Sirus, but trusting him was hard nonetheless. He was a vampire. A dark abomination. A killer.
All Marcus needed was time, he reminded himself. Time to root out Nestra’s spies and expose her corruption to the Court, so that the king may remove her once and for all. Until then, he would have to trust the vampire. He would have to trust that he would keep his word. That he would keep whatever Nestra was after hidden.
“Nestra hunts an object of great magick,” Marcus went on, “an object she has been after for some time. I know little except that she’s very close to finding it. She sent a dozen of the Temple’s paladins to New York City yesterday. They’re searching as we speak. You must find it first. Keep it safe. Hidden. Until I send word.”
“I will do as you ask,” the vampire replied, with no semblance of emotion.
Marcus rallied himself. The contract was struck. Sirus had pledged himself. The vampire would not back out now. Not until the contract was satisfied. At least, he hoped.
“I believe it’s currently in the possession of a woman,” Marcus added. It was one of the few details he’d been able to glean through his spies. He knew nothing of her. No other specifics. Not even what kind of Folk she was.
He met the vampire’s cold, vacant eyes. Guilt flared. This woman, whoever she was, doubtfully deserved the terror he was unleashing upon her. No one deserved to open their door and find the Hound of Hell awaiting them.
What must be done must be done. To protect his king. His people.
May the Goddess and the Light protect her.
May She protect and guide them all.
