Davina (Davy Harwood #3)(62)

The two shared a smile before Jacith removed his hood.

Roane had never met him, but he heard about him. Everyone had. Jacith was tall in his vampire body, but once the hood left his head, he grew in height. He stood at another four inches, towering over the both of them. His hair was black and gray, all mixed together and his eyes were a clear blue. A white line shone around his irises, but Roane had a dreaded guess that that was The Immortal’s influence over him. She was assisting him with magic in some way.

“Lucas Roane.” Jacith tucked his hands to his chest, his robe’s sleeves hanging low to the ground. He moved around The Immortal and approached. He scanned him up and down. “You are every bit as powerful as she said you would be.”

Roane needed to get out of there. As fast as possible. He began to move backwards, an inch at time.

The Immortal studied him alongside Jacith. She folded her arms over her chest and nodded. “He is. The Hunters are close by. His tattoo is alive. I can feel it.” She glanced to him. “Can you?”

Jacith’s eyes narrowed, a mere fraction of an inch. “Of course, I can.”

“Really?” Her grin turned smug, just the slightest hint. “He has power. We can draw from it.”

As she spoke those words, Jacith’s eyes lit up. An eager gleam grew bright, and he moved forward. Roane went still. He was a prey to the sorcerer. He was focused on getting out of there, but at the cold sliver that rang down his back, he reassessed the situation. Hunters. His tattoo. They could draw his power, the last shoe dropped then.

“You promised him my power.” Roane didn’t even ask. He knew that was what happened. It was the only thing that made sense.

Surprise and pride flashed over her features. “You’re smart, Lucas. Yes, I did.”

“All that you said before, about how I loved you, all of that was a lie.”

“No. That was the truth. You do love me. I’ve been drawing you to me for decades. The thread-holder before Talia would’ve found you, too, if she had been smart enough to realize her wishes weren’t her own.” She spoke dryly, a wry twist at her lips, “She was more accustomed to females so when she began dreaming of you, she knew something was wrong.” Her eyes grew hard. “But I will have my time with that thread-holder. I know she is waiting. Her time is soon, but until then, everything else was a lie.” She shook her head. “I don’t love you, Lucas. I’m not a crazy, besotted weakling like the others. You have power. You have lots of power and you will be giving all of that power to Jacith.” She glanced at the sorcerer. “He was very keen to get his hands on you. That was my part of the deal. I was to deliver you to him.”

“How?”

Roane wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway.

“Your brother helped so much, but I needed more power to break free from Davy. Every time she was unconscious, and there were a lot of times your brother’s coven made her pass out from pain, I called onto Jacith. I drew him to me. He loaned his power to me and here I am, returning it to him. You. You are my payout.”

“This is a joke, right?”

Jacith was advancing on him. His sick delight was making Roane’s stomach roll over. He couldn’t defeat the sorcerer and he knew he couldn’t defeat The Immortal. A brief thought of ending it his way, his power intact, flashed through his mind.

“Don’t!”

He met her gaze. “Why not?”



“Because—” she glanced to Jacith, but his back was completely to her. He was focused only on Roane. Her eyes narrowed and a cold wall fell over her face. She thought back to him, “Because you were my bait for him. That’s why.”

“Bait?” He couldn’t keep up with the changes. A new alliance was popping up every other minute. He asked her in his mind, “What do you mean by bait?”

“Wait.” Her voice was calming. “You will see.”

As Jacith grew closer, Roane was backed up into the wall. He didn’t feel the cold wetness of the rock behind him. Jacith’s eagerness was rolling over him, overwhelming him. The sorcerer reached up and gripped Roane around the throat. At the contact, Roane gasped. His blood was on fire. Every inch of him was burned and he felt his insides being sucked out. Jacith was drawing on his power.

No matter what she said, this was the end.

Roane closed his eyes. He didn’t know if the sorcerer was in his head or not, but he made himself think of Davy. He tried to talk to her. “Davy. I love you. Can you hear me?” As he spoke, his hand reached for a dagger tucked behind his back. His hand found the handle and wrapped around it, gripping it tight. A tear slipped from his eye. “Davy, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but no matter our ending, we’ll have the next life together. A new chapter. I promise.”

He imagined she was there. She was standing in front of him. He could hold her. He could rest his forehead to hers and whisper, “I love you so very much, to the deepest parts of my soul. You, Davina, you make me an honorable man. You are why I have fought in this life and you are why I will continue to the next. I love you . . . wherever you are.”

She was there, gripping his hands with hers. Her tears mixed with his and she whispered back, kissing him at the same time, “I love you, too. I will be there. I’m waiting for you, Lucas. Come to me. Come to me . . .”