Fin put too much stock in old prophecies and tales told over many cups of ale. She might not even survive her transition in the long-run.
The reason hybrids were so rare was they often died, a victim to their own dual natures tearing each other apart.
Quieting his mind, he pulled from that darkened pathway and focused on the draped chamber ahead of him where Alfred slept.
“Fin believes she’s here,” he told him.
There was no response, not that he expected one. The heart pulsed once, then went quiet again.
“I am only telling you because she was in Nightmare,” Rogue said quietly, aware his words would echo back to Alfred when he woke. “She may not survive her transition. We may not have gotten to her in time. If they come for her, we will lead them away. If we must flee the keep, they will never get in here, but you will find us in Fin’s lands.”
The chances they couldn’t hold the keep were slim. They would likely have a much harder time holding on to her. Maddox and Fin might be lost in their lust for the red-haired, red-eyed vixen, but Rogue understood the need to assert authority flaring within her.
She would run.
Everyone ran.
Maddox had, though he may not remember it anymore.
As had Fin.
They’d actively sought to become hybrids.
Well, Maddox had. His had been a conscious choice. Fin’s had been a matter of his survival.
Still—they all ran.
“We’ll protect her,” he said finally. “Rest well, brother.”
With those words, he turned and left the room, sealing it behind him before he began the long walk back to the stairs and up.
He closed off the iron doors again, then returned to the baths. She’d been out again when he’d left them. Her words reached him just as he got to the doors.
“I was just wondering if I could go see the sun…I haven’t seen it in weeks.”
The sun didn’t affect all vampires. The naturally born had some immunity, but the turned? They all tolerated to varying levels. It was the longing in her voice that tugged at Rogue. She’d fed on all three of them for a second and in some cases a third time. The blood in her was older now, hurrying the transition along.
Did the sun bother succubi in general? Unfortunately, he knew little about the species.
“Maybe not yet,” Fin answered into the silence. “It’s better if we take the next steps slowly.”
“There are places we can go that you can see it,” Maddox added, though neither sounded certain.
Rogue scowled at her slow sigh. Disappointment curved through the sound. They weren’t giving her definitive answers. Fin had definitely hedged his in uncertainty while Maddox immediately sought a way to soothe her. She required neither coddling nor lies.
Fin didn’t know the answer nor did Maddox. The only way to know was to go into the sun and find out what it did. Hauling the door open, Rogue strode inside. The hot humid air billowing in the room wrapped around him. While he preferred it cooler, the heat was also tolerable.
Fiona stood near one of the large hearths, backlit by the flames. Though damp, her rich, red hair seemed to glow as it curled at the ends. A large dressing gown dwarfed her figure, and even though she was backlit, there was no mistaking her crimson eyes for anything other than her transitioning state. They were brighter though.
That was at least a positive.
“Come with me, little sváss,” he ordered.
“Woah,” Fin said as he stood. “Rogue…”
Maddox was already sloshing out of the pool. If Rogue possessed more patience, he would have rolled his eyes. As it was, he met the rebellion in Fiona’s gaze head on. “Unless you want to wait for them to decide what you can or can’t do.”
Predictable. She pursed her lips, shot a glance toward the others, then to him. Weighing. Measuring. Who was the greater threat?
Who could she get what she wanted out of?
Did she even know what she wanted?
Fiona took a step toward him as Maddox cleared the edge of the pool. Uncaring of their nudity, they were across the room to catch her, but not before Rogue swept her up and then he raced her away.
Their curses followed him.
He really didn’t want to have the argument with them. As it was, the armful of soft curves cuddled up to them had already brought them more than her weight in trouble. The keep’s layout was oblong, tucked against a mountainside and preeminently defensible. A barrier wall and proud gates along with natural obstacles made them difficult to approach overland.
Most of their enemies who would seek them out were not human, however, and those defenses were mostly for show.
The true defenses were soaked into the stones and grown in the cracks between when they’d built the fortress. Magic, power, and blood inlaid all of the spellwork. From the most complicated and delicate to the most basic and plain spells for discouragement, the keep warded them against those who didn’t belong with a giant fuck off essentially that turned away all but the most determined.
Hence the message he’d left for Alfred. Fiona had already begun to corrupt his brothers, even as she aroused Rogue in a manner he’d never experienced before. Already, the craving for her had begun to wind its insidious grip through him. He could still resist the influence.
Maddox and Fin hadn’t even tried.
Still, the keep also had two courtyards. The outer near the main walls and the inner, where Alfred had once cultivated a garden. It was to that one he took Fiona. When the keep was closed up, most of the exterior windows were sealed and shuttered. Eventually, they might concede to install the generator Fin wanted to add, but for now, torches and candles more than sufficed his need for any light.
Fiona scowled at him when he stopped before the garden doors.
“Fuck that’s cold,” she complained, and he glanced down to see her bare feet against the stone.
If the stone was cold, the garden would likely be even worse. It was still late winter in the mountains. Frigid, even when the sun was high.
With one hand braced to keep the doors closed, he reached down and removed one of his boots, then the other, and set them in front of her.
Carelessly pushing a lock of her hair behind an ear, Fiona glanced from him to the boots, then back. Rogue said nothing, he only waited.
It was her move.
Touching her tongue to her teeth, she put a hand on the door for balance, then picked up one far too delicate foot and shoved it into one boot. It dwarfed her, so she would be hard pressed to move in those.
Might make running a little more challenging for her.
Intrigued, he waited until she had the second boot on and shuffled a step. A snorting laugh escaped her. “You know what they say about men with big feet.”
“No,” he said plainly. “I don’t. What do they say?”
Amusement flickered across her face as she tilted her head up. Intrigued, Rogue studied her, uncertain of what her next words might be.
“They have huge shoes,” she murmured, almost daring him to dispute her.
“That’s not what they say.” But he wasn’t going to ask her to tell him. She had to learn to trust one way or the other. For now, he gripped the handle of the door and yanked it open. Cold air rushed in, and he straightened at the rush of fresh coolness. Fiona tucked the robe tighter against her naked body and shuddered.
The sudden wash of wintry sunlight blinded him momentarily. The light itself didn’t quite reach inside the door, though the radiance brightened the gloom so intensely, he almost found himself reconsidering the generator idea of Fin’s. Maybe more light would make Fiona more comfortable. While she would run, perhaps they could delay it.