Broken Compass:Supernatural Prison Story 1(29)

The sorcerer at my side grimaced. "He's damn strong. So much more than I've ever felt in his presence. This demon does not feel like one of the regular sorts. It's got an ancient energy that makes me uneasy."

"Ancient like from the original darkness?" I growled.

Louis tilted his head, his eyes dissecting the crazy male. "He wouldn't be so stupid. If that was the case he would have literally released the darkness, and once the darkness is out, it's not so easy to return it. Especially in a world filled with energy and light. Darkness craves the light. It will taint everything. It cannot be allowed to go free."

It was in that second Braxton let out a roar, his massive body crashing forward to stand right at the wall of magic, opposite Kristoff.

"We can't kill him," Louis stressed again. "The demon is bound to its summoner. Once that vessel is destroyed, nothing will bind it. Even though it will return to The Great Divide soon after, the damage it could do, even in a short time, would be devastating."

Well, that was damn unfair. I needed to kill Kristoff. It was on my bucket list.

A flicker of energy crossed my mind, and a murmur caught my attention.

My entire body lurched to the right.

Since stepping into the room, I'd been ignoring the Mischa bond inside of me, focusing on killing Kristoff first. But she was calling for me and there was no way for me to ignore her low plea.

"Max … "

The breathy whisper came again and everything that made me who I was crumbled inside. Where was she? Why couldn't I see her?

My chest was burning. I felt the very real tangibility of our bond now. It was a hot, tight spot which must have lived there for a long time, so long that I'd never even realized it wasn't really mine but something I held for Mischa. I let it fling free and the heat burst to life inside of me. It spread like dripping lava, burning through me, burning away everything I used to be and leaving something else behind.

I knew where to find her.

With Louis and Braxton keeping the demon-touched under control, I sprinted across the room to the far wall, a wall which looked like normal stone, but there was a doorway here somewhere.

I began to run my hands along it, feeling the slightest draft. With no patience to figure out how it worked, I took a few steps back and slammed my shoulder against it. It groaned and shifted minutely. Taking a few more steps back, I slammed my body into it again, this time shifting the wall an inch backwards. That was enough for me to wedge my hands into the small gap and force the space to widen.

On the other side I caught sight of a lever. I nudged it and jumped out of the way as the entire wall shifted to the side. Without pause I dashed down the stairs on the other side. When I was halfway down, I heard the cracking of Louis' spell shattering. Kristoff must have busted through.

Braxton roared, and as much as I wanted to go back and help my brother, I had to get to Mischa. She was hurt badly. I don't know how I knew it, but I did. The moment that heat in my chest had expanded, so had my connection to her. This was not just about our baby, this was something so much more. If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd be wondering if she was my true mate.   





 

But it was impossible.

Even if my bond with Cardia was fake  –  and I'd reached the point now where I was really hoping it was  –  there was no changing the fact that Mischa and I were from different races. We couldn't be true mates. But we could choose to be bonded and hope neither of our true mates ever came along. I could think of worse things than having her in my life and my bed every night. Actually, if I was truly honest with myself, there was nothing I wanted more. I wanted Mischa in my life as my mate. I wanted everything about her. She was my choice.

The stairs were narrow and dark, preventing me from running down as fast as I could. The air was filled with blood, oil, and human waste. Every nerve in my body was shot. Knowing that she might have been touched with Lunarti oil was killing me.

The stairs rounded out and I stepped into the basement, which was set up as a prison. There was more than enough light for me to count twelve cells, six on either side.

"Mischa," I said loudly. "I'm here for you. Hold on for me."

I stepped down the middle path. The floor was stone, dirt and debris scattered across it.

"She's over here," a soft melodic voice said. I followed that voice, using vamp speed to get there in an instant. It could be a trap, but since the staff was a formidable weapon, and it was in my hand, I wasn't too worried.

The female who'd called out to me was pressed against her bars. She was thin to the point of wasting away, her long blond hair matted with blood and soot. She was tall, almost six foot, and swaying in her attempt to remain standing. Her very white-blond hair contrasted with her cocoa-colored skin  –  striking in every way, but they were not the beautiful features I was looking for.

"Mischa is here." She pointed to the cell next to her, and I growled at the sight of my wolf shifter sprawled across the ground. She was on her left side, arms wrapped protectively around her belly, and she was unconscious, her skin pale and waxy. The scent of death was hovering over her. Fuck! If not for the occasional shiver racking through her, I would have wondered if I was too late.

I dived forward and wrenched at the bars of her cage. There was a crack and the door dropped off with ease. These cages had not been built to withstand vampire strength.

The female's words shattered any calm I'd been hanging onto. "You have to save her. He used some kind of oil."

A bellowing roar shook me and I almost dropped to my knees as the agony of Mischa's pain slammed into my senses. Needing to touch her, I went to her side, and with as much care as I could manage, wrapped my arms around her and gently lifted. She whimpered weakly, which scared the hell out of me, but at least she was alive.

Blood coated her. Her skin was like ice, her pulse ragged and unsteady. I didn't need the stranger's words to know she was in grave danger. I could smell the Lunarti all over her, even in her blood. It had been burning through her for a while now, infiltrating deep.

Her heart started to stutter then, and with a growl I spun and ran for the door. She was fading, and I couldn't live in a world without her and our child.

Knowing I had to do something to stabilize her before we traveled, I paused at the base of the stairs and lifted my wrist to my mouth, scouring across it with my fangs. Vampire blood was strongly regenerative. It could help to heal minor wounds, and would maybe slow the deadly path of oil through her body. Lifting it to her lips, I let the red drip slowly into her puckered mouth. I had to open my wrist a few times, getting as much of the liquid life into her as I could. I didn't have time to examine her closely, but I could smell burned and seared flesh. The more of the healing blood she got, the better.

She moaned again, her lips closing around my wrist, and then the burning spot in my chest exploded. There were bursts of magic in the room, and I expected to see glittering lights drifting down around us. But there was nothing. This magic was internal.

Everything in my body tightened, and with no warning the bond in my chest snapped into place. My legs weakened, dropping me to my knees. I managed to keep Mischa safely tucked to my chest, and as I held her close a furry beast loped across my mind. Mischa's wolf.

Sweet fey angels! It was the bond, a true mate bond. It had cemented between Mischa and me, and for the first time I could feel her in my soul, feel her beast and mine connecting. It was nothing like what had happened with Cardia. That bond had been a tingling in my blood, a sense of where Cardia was at times. With Mischa it was as if her soul and mine merged together and there was a small part of her residing inside of me.

And now, more than ever, I could tell how close she was to dying.

Not on my damned watch.   





 

I was up and on my feet so fast the room spun. Footsteps clattered at the bottom of the stairs, and my head whipped around to pin the intruders with my gaze. Thank fuck. It was Braxton, back in human form.

"Kristoff escaped," he said. "When the wall shattered, my dragon went for him, and the demon must have realized he was in trouble and disappeared."

The sorcerer would be back. That much I knew for sure. He had not achieved his goals here today. He would come for these girls again. Braxton was looking at me strangely and I wondered if I looked different. Was the burst of emotion rushing through me already showing on the outside? Was the bond visible between us?

I was in panic mode, but there was something I had to tell my brother first. "There's another female here. She's in one of the cells; can you get her? I also dropped the staff back there somewhere." My voice was almost unrecognizable, low and thrumming with emotion. "I need to get Mischa to a healer. She's in a bad way. He used the oil on her."

Louis must have been close behind. He stepped into sight. "There are few healers in the world who know how to deal with the effects of Lunarti. The best I know is Chan. He's in Shanjoin, near the Chinese prison community. I'll open a step-through."

By the time Louis had the portal open, Braxton had the white-haired girl in his arms. She'd told him her name was Justice before passing out. Seemed she'd been doing everything in her power to remain conscious. To help Mischa. Or herself. Either way.

"The staff was gone," Braxton said, his brows raised, his eyes beaming yellow. "And the girl is human. Why the fuck would Kristoff be keeping a human locked down here? He's practically starved her to death."