Page 100 of Cosmic Power

Zamorra continued to question Faxon while he stood guard. He didn’t even see the point in talking to them at all, especially the one called Faxon. Whatever they had to say wouldn’t help them. Luther already knew what they were going to do. Maybe not the logistics of it, but he knew what they had planned. And he’d be damned if he ever let it happen.

But his maker thought it was important to gather as much information about the fae as possible. The little mind trick he was able to do didn’t work on them—go figure. They had some sort of physic shield protecting their minds from invasion. Zvetari was adamant there was much for them to learn about their new enemy. Their thought processes. Their strategies. The way they move, fight and talk. Their powers, strengths and weaknesses.

He had a point. Luther just didn’t think the fae were going to share all that information. Either way, Zvetari was determined to learn it all to give them the best chance they could get against the fae.

Zamorra asked question after question. Some of them Faxon answered, some of them he didn’t. By the time they finished and walked out of the dungeon, it felt like they’d been there for days, even though it had barely been an hour. They walked side by side, their arms brushing against each other lightly as they came up to ground level, making sure to shut the heavy bunker-style door behind them.

Once the lock was securely in place, Luther and Zamorra made their way up another flight of stairs and out of the nondescript room, ending up in a sleek modern kitchen. The basement—where the entrance to the dungeon was located—sat beneath one of the most lavish, extravagant mansions Zvetari owned.

When they stepped through the portal, reappearing back on Earth, the mansion they were standing in was one of several his maker owned in New York. Luther was eager to return to Australia, to his own home as soon as possible. Now that he had Zamorra back, he had to return to the Regent duties he’d been neglecting since her capture.

There was also the matter of dealing with Vernon and Avalita, their heinous actions towards Ryker. Luther knew Ryker couldn’t be the only child they abused. They had to have done it before and could possibly still be doing it now. It was imperative he get to the bottom of it, put a stop to it, by whatever means necessary.

“So what happens now?” Zamorra asked, pushing her long silver hair off her shoulders. Her scent drifted up his nose, causing his fangs to throb in his mouth.

He didn’t need as much blood as other vampires, thanks to his age. He could go days without it, if need be, and he had complete control over his bloodlust. But standing next to Zamorra, breathing in that intoxicating scent of hers, made him feel like he was a newborn vampire all over again.

The sound of her blood rushing in her veins echoed in his ears, along with the repetitivethump, thump, thumpof her pulse. He licked his dry lips, fighting the impulse to stick his fangs in her throat and finally get a taste of the blood he’d been craving since the day he met her.

“Now we tell Zvetari what Faxon had to say, and then we go home,” Luther said, shutting off his senses so he could think without the distraction of Zamorra’s blood. “There’s an urgent situation I need to deal with.”

“You mean the whole Ryker thing?”

“Yes,” Luther nodded, making his way out of the kitchen. “I sent Darius ahead to keep an eye on Vernon and Avalita until I get back. There’s also the matter of Ophelia, Maddox and several other vampires who require punishment. As Regent, it’s my duty to discipline those that step out of line. A duty I’ve been neglecting the last few weeks.”

Zamorra winced, her face scrunching up as she followed behind him. “Because of me?”

He turned and placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from taking another step. “Don’t think for one second that I would have preferred to deal with that than find you,” he said sincerely, his eyes boring into hers.

“I don’t. I just…feel a little bad, is all. You went to so much trouble to find me. To rescue me not only from Barnabas, but the fae too, and I don’t even know why.”

“You don’t?” he whispered, tilting his head slightly.

She laughed humourlessly. “Come on Luther, you’re not exactly an open book. I know you care about me, but you care about everyone in your House—”

“You think I only saved you because you’re a Servant of my House?” Disappointment flashed across his face. He reached for her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist so his palm sat snugly against the letters burned into her skin. The Brand Mark tying her to him, to House Darkova.

Luther pulled on the strand of magic connecting them and Zamorra gasped in surprise, her eyes widening. Heat emanated from his hand, a soft golden glow shining brightly between them as he severed the link binding them together. When he let her go, the letters LD that were once etched into her skin were gone.

Zamorra blinked, staring down at her wrist. “What did you just do?” she breathed in shock.

“I took it away. This has nothing to do with you being a Servant of my House, Zamorra. I care about you regardless. And to prove that I’ve removed your brand and set you free of your pledge.”

“But-I don’t understand—” she stuttered, shaking her head. “What about asylum? Are you kicking me out?”

The whole reason Zamorra offered a Pledge of Servitude was because she was on the run from a pack of werewolf shifters and she needed sanctuary. And now, after everything they’d been through together, she feared; would he really do that? Abandon her?

His brows slammed down in anger. “You seriously think after all the trouble I went through to get you back, I’d do that? I don’t want you to stay out of obligation, because of some pledge you made to me when you were desperate. Out of options. I want you to stay because it’s what you want. No other reason. You’ll always have a place with me—in my House—if you want it. But as a Member, not a Servant.”

A mischievous smirk curved on her lips. “Does this mean I’ll start getting paid now? Like Thaddeus?”

Luther rolled his eyes, the memory of their conversation at DeVos flashing through his mind.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Zamorra chuckled softly. “You shouldn’t have done it though. We made a deal. You gave me sanctuary in exchange for five years of servitude.”

“The fact that I didn’t protect you from being kidnapped negates that. It’s my job as Lord of the House to shield every Member and Servant from harm. I failed.”

Zamorra reached out, placing her hand on his forearm. “That wasn’t your fault, Luther. None of it was. You had no idea Barnabas would do that.”

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