A blonde woman crouched in front of him, studying his skinned knee with soft concern in her green eyes. He was a boy, just a boy, and as she chanted a spell and blew warm breath on his wound, peace and love infused him. The torn flesh knitted back together, blood no longer dripping from it.
When the healing process completed, she grinned over at him. “See? All better, yes?” Such a sweet voice, tender and carefree. She brushed his frustrated, angry tears away with her knuckles. The tears had not formed because of any pain he felt, but because he’d wanted, needed, to inflict more damage on his opponents. “You have to stop fighting, darling. Especially boys who are twice your age, and far bigger.”
“Why? I beat them.” And he could have hurt them a lot worse!
“I know, but the more you damage their pride, the more they will hate you.”
“They cannot hate if they do not survive.”
“Besides that,” his mother continued sternly, “you are in a position of power, and they are not. You must be a voice of reason, not a blast of violence.”
He crossed his arms. “They deserved what I did to them.”
“And what, exactly, did they do to deserve your claws in their necks?”
“They hurt a girl. Pushed her around in a circle and tried to look up her skirt. They scared her so badly she cried. And then they touched her. In one of her private places. Here.” He flattened a palm on his chest. “And she screamed.”
The woman sighed. “All right. They deserved your wrath. But, Nicolai, my love, there are other ways to punish those who do wrong. Permissible ways.”
“Such as?” He could think of no way other than what he’d done. Like for like, hurt for hurt.
“Tell your father what they’ve done, and he’ll lock them away or banish them from the kingdom.”
“So that they can do more harm elsewhere? Or one day seek revenge?” he scoffed. “No.”
“And what if you are hurt while you are hurting them?” she demanded.
“I’ll come to you. You are the most powerful witch in all the world.”
Another sigh, some of her upset fading. “You’re incorrigible. And your faith in me is very sweet, if somewhat misguided. Yes, I am powerful, but not as powerful as you will be one day. That’s why I want you to be careful. One day, your temper might cause you to accidentally destroy more than a few lives.”
“All right, Mother. I will try and be careful, but I can’t promise.”
“Oh, your honesty…” She flashed a soft smile. “Off you go. After you pay my spell casting fee.”
He scrunched up his face, leaned forward and kissed the softness of her cheek. “I’m a prince. I shouldn’t have to pay.”
“Well, I’m a queen, so you’ll always have to pay. Go on, now. Find your brother and study with him, my darling. No more running away from your tutors to avenge the world.”
With a wave, he was darting off, away from her—but not for the classroom. He had too much energy and needed to swim. Swimming always calmed him.
In the here and now, darkness swooped in, blanking Nicolai’s mind. Another reprieve. He fell the rest of the way to the ground. One of the vines sliced his cheek, but he hardly noticed. He was remembering his past.
Why was he remembering? Why were the memories flooding him like this?
The healer who had bound his powers had not unbound them. Perhaps more of Nicolai’s abilities had found their way free. That would also explain the split-second location switch. Perhaps those abilities had demolished the glass cage.
Except, a quick mental check proved the cage was still there, his abilities and memories still swirling inside it, faster and faster. However, now streaks of crimson were dripping from the top, eroding the glass. Crimson…blood?
The guards from Delfina? No. Days had passed, and he’d had no reaction to what he’d consumed at the palace. And while he had bitten the ogres, he hadn’t swallowed their blood, unconsciously knowing it was poison to him.
The last person he’d drunk from was Jane. He’d gulped from her neck, her taste so decadent he’d wanted to stay there forever. And maybe he would have. Maybe he would have drained her if the thought of losing her had not slammed through him. That, followed by the thought of sampling the heaven between her legs, had driven him to leave her neck and descend. And he’d never been so glad to end a meal. Between her legs, she was sweeter than the nectar of honeysuckle.
He wanted to taste her there again. Wanted to at last sink inside her, possess her fully, become a part of her. Wanted her passion cries in his ears, her limbs all around him, clinging to him. Wanted her nails in his flesh, leaving her own mark.
Where was she? Had she—?
Another memory grabbed hold of his attention, using so much force he could only grunt with the pain. Images, voices, blurring together, painting another scene.
“Tighten your hold, boy. You’ll lose your sword in seconds with that puny of a grip.”
He was still a boy, a little older now, standing in front of a tall, muscled man. Black-as-night hair, eyes of polished silver. He wore a fine silk shirt and leather trousers, his boots unscuffed and tied just under his knees. A man of wealth, no question. A man of authority and knowledge.
A warrior.
They stood in the center of a courtyard, lovely plants and flowers thriving all around them. The air was sweet, the ground beneath their feet a lush, springy emerald. Smooth marble walls enclosed the entire area, yet there was no ceiling, allowing morning sunlight to pour inside and reflect off the veins of gold. And just above them, balconies opened up from each of the royal bedrooms, welcoming spectators.
A young dark-haired boy was perched on the ledge of the balcony to Nicolai’s right, watching while twirling a dagger. He wanted to puff up his chest and pound. He was about to be all kinds of impressive for his younger brother. He could toss with deadly accuracy, stab with lethal force and, when he concentrated, wield two swords at once.
“Nicolai,” the man in front of him said, impatient. “Are you paying attention to me?”
“Of course not. Otherwise, I would have heard what you said, and you wouldn’t be about to repeat yourself.”
Dayn chuckled.
Father was not amused, and did not reward Nicolai for his honesty. “I have meetings to attend, son. Meetings in another kingdom, which means you will be in charge while I’m gone. I need to know you can defend yourself and those you love. Pay attention. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” He focused on the happenings before him, weighing the metal in his hands. “Why must we practice over and over again? I’m good.”
“You’re good, but you need to be great. Last time I managed to stab you in the back so badly you scarred!” There was hard admonishment in his father’s voice. “You must learn to work with all weapons, at all times of the day and night. You must work with one hand, both hands, standing, sitting and injured. Without becoming distracted.”
Nicolai raised his chin. “Why can’t I just kill my opponents with my fangs and be done with it?” He’d done so before. Many times. Until his mother’s prediction had come true, and he’d destroyed an entire village simply to punish a man for beating his wife.
He’d at last taken control of his emotions and hadn’t lost his temper since. That didn’t mean his fangs were useless, though.
“And if your fangs have been pried out of your mouth?” his father demanded.
“No one would ever be foolish enough to remove my fangs. Mother says I’m the most powerful vampire in the world. I can walk in the light, and I can steal power from anyone I choose.”
“No, she says you will be.” His father’s expression hardened. “You are a prince, Nicolai. The crown prince. Many in this world and the other will covet your direct line to my throne. Many will try and hurt you simply to hurt me. You must know how to defend yourself, always, for every situation.”