Death would be too easy for Laila. You have to do something. When she wakes up, she’ll use her magic against you.
Could she, though? This world was different from Laila’s, with different metaphysical laws, different atmospheres. Would her magic work here? Nicolai’s ability to cross from one world to the other worked in both places, but while Nicolai could withstand his own sun, he would not be able to withstand Jane’s. Proof: she could tolerate his, but not hers. And she’d dealt with this sun all her life.
She wished she had interviewed or dissected a witch—and she didn’t care what kind of monster people would think her for such a desire. But one had never been brought to her lab. Could that be because no one had known they were here? Could they not use any of their powers in this world, and were rendered human?
There was one way to find out.
Jane dragged the princess to her bedroom, which was hard to do with her windows and drapes all open, found rope and tied the bitch to the bedposts. Not once did Laila awaken. Jane showered quickly, cleaning off the blood, then dressed in familiar jeans and a T-shirt. Felt odd, wearing her “normal” clothes. Felt…wrong.
Trembling, she threw the robe in the washer. Nicolai? she cast out mentally, hoping for a reply. Are you out there? Are you okay? Soon as she took care of Laila, she would go back to him.
They hadn’t yet bonded fully. Otherwise, neither of them would have been able to drink from others. She wanted to bond fully.
Jane returned to her bedroom, pushed a chair in front of the princess and waited. She wouldn’t let herself think about Nicolai yet.
Hours passed, ticking by slowly. Finally, though, Laila cracked open her eyes. She moaned, tugged at her bonds, frowned. Realization jolted her upright—or rather, as much as possible.
“Relax,” Jane told her. “I haven’t done anything to you that you haven’t done to someone else.”
“You’ll pay for this,” Laila snarled.
“And you’re stuck here.”
A moment passed, then another. Then, suddenly, Jane could hear the woman’s voice in her head, as clearly as she’d heard Nicolai’s. What did she do to me? Why can’t I use my magic?
Jane smiled. Well, well. One blessing at least. “You can’t use your magic because you’re in my world now.”
Laila gasped. “How did you know that?” Oh, great goddess. She has my powers. She has my powers!
“No, I don’t. I am a vampire, though.”
“Stop that!” She’s reading my mind, the bitch. I hate her! Now clear your mind. How did she become like Nicolai?
“I drank his blood.”
“Stop doing that, I said.”
Jane chewed on her bottom lip. If she could read minds, she could go deeper than surface thoughts. Right?
She focused more intently on Laila’s thoughts…. Have to escape… How do I escape without my powers? I have to steal my powers back.
She probed a little deeper. Suddenly she was reliving the episode on her kitchen floor. Except, she saw and felt and heard through Laila’s senses. Waking up to untutored fangs in her neck, weakened, unable to use her powers. Powers she’d relied on her entire life. She had taken the princess’s powers, Jane realized. That was what fizzed inside her veins.
Nicolai could absorb other people’s powers, and when Jane had consumed his blood, she must have developed that ability just like the teleportation.
She probed even deeper. There seemed to be a thousand different voices, a thousand flashes from the girl’s life. She listened and watched for the things concerning Nicolai… There!
She watched, listened. Hated the princess all over again.
“You wiped Nicolai’s mind,” she growled as she came back to the present. She was shaking. “You told him—and he thought—a healer had done it.”
Laila paled. “I’m not saying anything to you.”
“You don’t have to.” Laila had wiped his mind and bound his powers, then planted a new memory, one of the healer doing so. She hadn’t wanted him to blame her. She’d also tried to plant suggestions of love and adoration, but while she had manipulated his thoughts, she hadn’t been able to manipulate his emotions.
And now I can do so, Jane thought. She wasn’t exactly sure how to use the ability, so she latched onto every memory she could, pictured a black box and stuffed them inside, hiding them away.
“What are you doing?” Laila demanded. “Stop… What…why…?”
Jane remained silent. She worked for hours, grabbing and stuffing, grabbing and stuffing. When she finished, the cabin was dark and musty, and her body so weak she had already slid out of her chair.
She met Laila’s gaze. A blank gaze. “Who—who are you?” Panic sprouted. “Who am I?”
“Tit for tat,” Jane said with a forced smile. When the sun set, she loaded Laila into her car, drove her into the nearest town and dropped her off. She was without powers, memory and money. She would have to place herself at someone else’s mercy.
Mercy she might not find.
Jane returned home, pulled on her robe and threw herself on her bed. She pictured the tent where she’d last seen Nicolai, but…nothing happened. She tried again…with the same result.
She tried for hours, the entire night. By morning she was a sobbing mess, weak, sick to her stomach. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t return.
The curse had finally kicked in.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THREE DAYS. WITHIN THREE DAYS, Nicolai’s full memory was returned.
And now, holding his timepiece, he knew exactly what had happened to his parents. The Blood Sorcerer had launched a sneak attack, going for the king and queen first, allowing his monsters to ravage them. The hideous monsters from Nicolai’s nightmares, the ones he’d seen on the castle walkway and inside his bedroom.
Laila had it right. As the pair lay dying, they had cast separate spells. The queen, to send her children away. The king, to spark a need for vengeance. Both spells had bonded with him—and his timepiece. A gift from his parents. All their children had one. Even Micah, the youngest.
Micah, just a baby.
Now, twenty years had passed. Micah was a man. Unless he’d been trapped in a time standstill like Nicolai. And if he still lived.
Nicolai knew Dayn lived. Now that his memory and abilities were restored, so was his mind connection to the other blood drinker in the family. He could hear the turmoil of his brother’s thoughts. Could feel the man’s desperation.
Breena was out there, too. Rumor was, she was living with Berserkers. An impossibility. Berserkers had been wiped out long ago. So…where was she really?
And Jane…his Jane. Sometimes he could hear her as he heard Dayn. Distantly, the words and emotions muted. Don’t think about her right now. You’ll collapse.
He’d never gotten to tell his beloved siblings goodbye. Nor had he gotten to tell his parents. His father had wanted so badly to see him wed. Betrothed at the very least, and Nicolai had agreed to bind himself to someone. Only, he never had. Not really. He’d finally settled on the princess of Brokk, but he had never made a formal offer. And, oh, how his father had despaired.
While he could not give his father a bride—if he couldn’t have Jane, he would have no one—he could at last give his father the vengeance he’d used his last breath ensuring.
Nicolai knew he was not too late, for the timepiece continued to tick. When the hands stopped, then and only then would it be too late. But the hands were moving more quickly than they should have, meaning time was running out.
He would return to Elden, kill the sorcerer and claim his rightful place on the throne. Nothing would stop him. Tomorrow, he added. Nothing would stop him tomorrow. He could not bring himself to leave Laila’s tent. Not yet. This was the last place he’d seen and held Jane.
Jane.
You aren’t supposed to think about her.
Beyond the tent, he could hear the rest of the camp rousing. Footsteps pounded closer and closer and he knew it was only a matter of minutes before someone ventured inside again. He pictured the Princess Laila, as he had done before, cloaking himself in her image.
Sure enough, the tent flap rose and two guards stepped inside, awaiting orders.
“Leave this place,” he found himself saying. “Gather everything and everyone else and return home.”
“What of you, princess?”
“I’m staying. Now go.”
They bowed and exited, used to her abruptness. He’d been casting illusions for years, and had once teased his brothers and sisters, pretending to be them—in front of them. They had laughed, and begged for more.
The memory had his chest constricting. He would have liked to tease Jane that way.
Jane, he thought again. Her blood flowed through his veins, heating him up, making him ache and tingle. How was he supposed to live without her?
He didn’t care what she’d done in the past. How could he? She had already confessed her past to him, when he’d been imprisoned, and she’d appeared to him in phantom form.
He knew she thought he blamed her and perhaps even hated her. Was that why she stayed away? Had he failed to convince her otherwise when they’d spoken in their minds?
There’d been no other way. He’d had to convince Laila he would kill her. So even though he’d wanted to hug and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her, how there was nothing she could ever do to earn his hatred, he had glared at her, snapped at her.
She’d returned to her own time. To save him. And now, enough time had passed that he feared she no longer possessed the ability to travel here. Or was the curse keeping her there? The curse he’d thought he’d overcome. Oh, yes, he realized. There was his answer.
He stalked to Jane’s bag and dug inside, withdrawing the book. He’d flipped through the blank pages a thousand times already. Each of those thousand times he’d imagined casting another spell, one to bring her back to him.
Yet, how could he make such a spell work? How could he circumvent the curse that separated them? So far he had not…thought of…