Page 46 of Light Fae's Love
It’s one of the few things that can kill a Master Vampire; panic rushes through me now as too much blood pours from Quinn, coating his hands, his suit, even me as I hold him. As it pools into the grass, I hastily flip my hair aside, placing my neck to Quinn’s lips. A sigh leaves him now, though, and I feel his life-force flicker disastrously.
His power so extinguished he can’t even grow fangs and bite.
A terrible feeling floods through me, knowing Quinn could die, since he put so much of his power into me earlier rather than keep it against something like this. He doesn’t even have the Dark Haven of Florence to back him up now, as some part of me registers Arturos has contained the assassin with a watery barrier, as if the rogue is no match for a Master at full strength.
The man only got the drop on Quinn because he put so much of his energy in me earlier to stabilize Lucca’s power inside me.
It is then I know someone at the party felt how weak Quinn was this evening.
And decided tonight was their night—to make a hit and take him out.
18
BLOOD
As Quinn is staked by a Devilswood blade in Arturos’ hedge maze, his energy snuffing out fast, I raise my Dark Fae power. Midnight rainbows pour from me, scalding the night, as I grow small Fae fangs and bite my wrist, pressing it to Quinn’s mouth. I let the blood flow into his mouth as I try to force him to drink. Nothing happens, however, as I feel his life-force flicker like the last candle in the wind, his undying energy nearly gone after being stabbed in the heart by a Vampire-killing blade.
I feel Lucca try to send his magic through our bond, but it’s not enough, drained as he is also, and too far away. But then something deep inside Quinn seizes command; something in him just will not die. With a gasp, he grows fangs in a rush, sinking them into my flesh, deep.
To save himself from true death.
It hurts, bad. Without Quinn’s power to mesmerize away the pain tonight, everything in me screams to pull away as he grinds his fangs down hard into my wrist. He opens his bite marks wide, however, drinking me down now like he’s reviving from hell itself.
And he is, I know as I hold him, letting him drink his fill.
My power roars around me in a tirade of midnight rainbows as it pours into Quinn along with my blood, reviving him. His own power stored inside me goes with it; I can’t stop it as he takes and takes from me. I feel Quinn’s magic rush back to him as he drinks, my energy not having enough command over his to prevent his power from returning home.
It’s both good and bad; though I’m losing Quinn’s balance inside me, Lucca’s light burning me up more with every passing moment, I feel Quinn revive. Swallow by swallow, drop by drop, Quinn’s dark fire surges back even as I feel lightheaded, a bright star blazing inside my chest now from Lucca’s unbalanced light within me.
As the stars swim above me now, Quinn gasps. He drinks more gently now that he’s back from the brink, then stops, pulling his magic out of me. He cradles my wrist to his lips, using just enough energy to pour a thread of mesmerization into me through our bond so it doesn’t hurt.
I know he’s taken enough of my blood, magic, and his own power back from me to make it. He hasn’t drained enough of my power or lifeblood that I’ll expire, but I feel terrible now as I shake and shiver. Cold to my marrow yet burning deep inside, I shake like crazy, feeling fucking awful as Quinn slowly sits up.
And wraps an arm around me—as I feel like I might blaze apart.
“Quinn. Are you alright?” Arturos asks, as Quinn grips the stiletto of wood still embedded in his chest and slowly, deliberately, pulls the Devilswood stake out. Though more blood spills from the puncture wound, I watch it close now before my eyes.
Slowly, Quinn’s flesh knits until there is nothing but an ugly red scar upon his chest through the rip in his couture. That’s where it stops, however, as if he dares not use enough energy from me or himself to heal it completely. He feeds what energy he can back to me now through our bond, so I don’t pass out. I still feel terrible from donating that much blood and magic, though, dizzy and sick as my vision flickers in and out with my fast, thready pulse.
And Lucca’s power burns me deep within.
“I’ll live. Have you got the assassin? I want to question him,” Quinn says to Arturos now, though he does not rise from where he and I sit on the blood-soaked grass. I feel him try to push more of his dark power inside me to balance Lucca’s searing light, but it’s like Lucca’s power outshines Quinn’s now.
And will not let Quinn back in.
“Oh, I got the bastard.” Arturos nods, fury in his midnight blue gaze as his watery aura surges in wrath. His capsule is suddenly forming bonds, seizing around the Vampire assassin’s throat, torso, legs, and arms.
As Arturos draws him near, the man hisses, showing fang. He tries to struggle and use magic to break free, but Arturos’ magnificent power easily sluices his weak drives away. He’s clearly not a very strong Master, if he’s a Master at all. This is someone else’s underling, doing their dirty work for them. Someone from the Council and their allies, no doubt.
Sent to silence Quinn before he can become a problem.
As the man nears, he shuts up, closing his lips and raising his chin, defiant. Only I feel it as something terrible seethes inside Quinn. It’s so dark, even I’m afraid of it as he leaves off trying to refill his power inside me and addresses his near-assassin.
“You. Shadow. Tell me your name and the name of your Master, and you might just live.”
“I’ll tell you nothing,” the man says in defiance, as I understand from Quinn’s line of questioning that he doesn’t recognize this Vampire. “I’ll face my true death anyway, for failing to kill you tonight.”
“If you’re going to die anyway, might as well spill the beans.” Arturos cuts in, and though his words are glib, the dark, terrible tone in his voice is anything but.