Page 145 of The Phoenix

“I don’t believe in that shit.”

“Too bad. I gave you the sword known as Blood’s Kiss. With it, you fulfilled part of the prophecy. Because you and Cerberus share ancestry, you are the kin part also.”

Rein cocked his head to the side, still not following the line of thinking. “We aren’t related.”

“Surprise. You are. With Niviane, the Cambion sired Seraphine who birthed Echidna, mother of Dolph. But he also sired Quind, who sired… Fuck. That’s a lot of siring. I suppose guys will be guys.”

Rein growled. Roark shrugged. “The legendary warlock, realizing Niviane’s betrayal, had only one move available. In the guise of a red-tailed hawk, he impregnated the succubus Coye on Scath. She birthed Quind who fathered Voxel, the incubus who raped your grandmother. Your great-great-grandpappy was the Cambion himself. Step up to the circle to take your place.”

He froze. All his life, he had detested his incubus heritage. Now for the first time, he caught an inkling of its rightness. It was meant to be. Though tragic, it was almost destined. If he were inclined to believe in that shit. Which he wasn’t.

“The Cambion is in your family tree for a reason. Accept your calling.” Within the blink of his eyes, Roark enveloped the witch and warlock descendants of the original coven in a thick mist. “I bequeath to you the spells used by your ancestors.”

Sharp pain arrowed into Rein’s head. His fellow mages clapped palms to their temples.

Fighting the agony, Rein threw back his shoulders and strode into the center of the circle. Since his Awakening, he had been vampire to the core. Today, he accepted his mixed heritage, prepared to let his mage front and center.

Surrounded by his fellow descendants, he gripped the back of his neck. It sizzled. Electricity crawled along his spine. He fixed his gaze to the ground. With a blink, he created a blazing fire, so hot he stepped away a pace.

The others waited around him, depending on him for answers. Fuck. If he had a sword in hand, he could fight. If he released his vampire beast, he could fang his enemy. If he called on his incubus, he could steal a lifeforce. But re-creating portals and the Whorl was outside his usual scope. Even though he was a forceful mage.

Then across time and space, the Cambion from Wales spoke to him of incantations, of rites, of power. Rein listened, his lids closed, the muscles in his jaw twitching, his teeth clamped tight. Spells filled his mind as if they’d always been there.

At Rein’s summoning, blood dripped from the coven’s fingers. He collected their sacrifices in the ancient chalice. Calling on the spirits of their ancestors, he drew his blade to slash his palm. Bleeding into the cup, he offered his own sacrifice, mingling it with those before him. The new coven recited incantations meant to re-create the Karmic Schism.

In the distance, a gateway manifested. Another. Another.

Though Rein struggled to maintain the creations, the portals flickered in and out, hazy, unsteady images before they disappeared. Phantoms.

Again the descendants offered their blood, reciting the spells. Again the gateways materialized. Held for a moment. Disappeared.

Outside the circle, Roark paced, his glass-gray eyes narrow, unbelieving, his fiery wings shooting from his back. “It should work.”

The descendants continued to chant, calling on their ancestors for aid. Fin collapsed first. Thorn rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms.

When Denim staggered, Ram shouted, “Enough. Stop. You’re draining them.”

Braelyn’s head rolled back as she fell into Rein’s arms.

Miller dropped to one knee.

Dax caught Chiara before she buckled. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

With his mate cradled in his arms, Rein’s lips twisted into a snarl. He faced Roark, “I am not my great-great-grandfather.”

Roark shook his head, crushed with disbelief. “The fault is not yours. You are all strong, equal to the original Blood Coven. I knew the Cambion well, Rein. You are as powerful as he was. I have failed you. I have missed something.”

Roark took to the skies, bursting into flames, disappearing above the clouds.

Rein passed a gentle hand over Braelyn’s hair. “Go home. Rest.” He sighed, weary from the aborted attempt, fed up with killing. But with the portals open, the Firebrands must round up the loose Aeternals. This was the bleak future. He should get used to it.

Chapter Thirty-Two

With defeat heavy on his shoulders, Ohngel needed answers. To get them, he gathered his brother assassins on a wide grassy plain in Vast. Funny, the Feard didn’t seem happy to see him. “Dominion, you look good.”

“I try,” he snarled.

In truth, the black-winged assassin of the OneCreator was a hard male. He possessed one functioning eye, the other covered by a patch. The stare from it was hard. His steely muscles, earned in battle, were layered with tight skin and wrapped in leather. His attitude swung between pissed and very pissed.

---