Page 42 of Cosmic Power

“No. I managed to shut it just before she could reach it. She’s going ballistic, though. Smashing her fists into the brick wall trying to break free.”

“Leave her to it then. She’s not getting out of there,” Luther said, checking his watch. “I want you to call Axel and meet up with him. See if he needs any help.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Luther hung up and tucked his phone away.

“What are you going to do to her?” Thaddeus asked, running a hand through his blonde hair.

Red flickered through Luther’s dark eyes. “Oh, I have a few ideas. Painful, gruesome ideas.”

The dark mage studied him. “Really? No offence Luther, but I don’t know if you’re capable of it. Not inflicting pain—we both know you can do that in your sleep. I’m talking about hurtingher. She’s the only vampire you’ve ever sired. Whether you like it or not, you have a connection with her. I don’t know exactly what happens when the bond between a maker and their sired is severed, but I’ve heard it’s painful.”

Yes, Luther had witnessed it firsthand in his younger days. After he had been coerced into turning Ophelia, he had done as much research as he could about the bond. He studied it, conducted experiments on other vampires, watched both maker and sired to see exactly what would happen should one perish.

There was some sort of metaphysical link between the two that sprang to life once a vampire turned another. It wasn’t something that could adversely affect either one. However, if they wanted, the maker could sometimes influence the sired, persuading them to do things they might not want to do. But that was only if the maker was powerful enough to do so.

One of the things Luther was able to find out about the bond when he studied it, was that there were two different ways to sever it. One—which was the easiest, albeit the most painful—was death. The second was when the sired matured enough to be able to function on their own, to detach from their maker and live their own life. Even after all his research, Luther was still unsure about that process. But he thought of it like a rite of passage. The sired stayed with their maker, learning from them until they felt comfortable enough to make it on their own. And then poof—just like that, the bond would disappear.

Luther didn’t have the time nor the patience to wait for Ophelia to mature enough for their bond to fade. And if he was being honest, if it hadn’t happened in the last 1,500 years, he highly doubted it would happen at all. Which meant the only option was death.

Luther suspected Ophelia didn’t want to leave him, which he guessed was what was affecting their bond and making it remain in place. Zvetari explained that the bond was there to help guide and ease the sired into the transition of their new life. That if they didn’t feel comfortable leaving, the bond would remain in place until they did. They would remain connected to their maker so they would always have someone to guide them and take care of them.

“I’ll be able to handle it just fine,” Luther said, fully convinced he could handle it. He knew pain, had grown accustomed to it. He knew it wouldn’t be a problem—just a mere inconvenience.

Thaddeus shook his head lightly. “If you say so.” He glanced around the house—first in the kitchen—sweeping his eyes across Ryker quickly before looking into the lounge room and down the hallway. “Where are we anyway, Luther? What is this place?”

“New York City,” Luther replied, rolling his shoulders back.

“The Big Apple, huh? What are you doing here? It’s not like you to leave Australia so abruptly. What’s dragged you here?”

“Not what…who.” Luther walked down the hall, Thaddeus following close behind.

“Gonna explain that vague statement or you gonna leave me guessing?” the dark mage asked, a light tendril of his magic lacing the air. It brushed against Luther’s skin, a dark seductive whisper trying to delve into Luther’s secrets.

Luther looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “How many times have I told you not to use your magic on me?”

Thaddeus gave a cheeky smile and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “My bad, Luthy. I can’t help it sometimes.”

Luther grunted. He stepped into the lounge room and took a seat on one of the recliners, sitting up straight. Sitting in the other was Clive, his eyes plastered to the TV as he watched some home renovation show. He didn’t even glance their way.

“Give us the room,” Luther commanded.

On shaky legs, Clive rose from his seat and hobbled away, passing Thaddeus on the way out.

The dark mage arched an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

“More like dinner.” Luther waved to the free chair. “Sit.”

Thaddeus bounced lightly on his feet as he made his way over and sat next to Luther. “So, whatcha doin’ here? And where’s that gorgeous little firecracker of yours?” he asked, pulling the lever on the side of the recliner to release the footrest and leaning back, making himself comfortable.

Luther exhaled heavily. “She was taken.”

Thaddeus blinked, surprised. He stared, completely at a loss for words. “I-I’m sorry, I thought I just heard you say, ‘she was taken’.”

Glaring, Luther leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, steepling his fingers. “Don’t joke about this, Thaddeus. Not this. I’m teetering on the edge as it is.”

Using his feet, Thaddeus slammed the footrest back into place and sat up straight, his entire attention on his friend. “I-I don’t even know what to say. How-what—”

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