Page 110 of The Firebrand
“I don’t understand.”
Indigo chuckled, stroking Braelyn’s knee. “That’s okay. Most people don’t understand me. I’m used to it. Hell, most often I don’t understand myself. Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” She paused, pumping a fist into the air. “Wow! That is the cleverest thing I have ever said.”
“I don’t think you said it.”
“Of course I did. I just heard me.”
“It was Kierkegaard.” When Indigo gave her a vacant stare, Braelyn flipped her hand through the air. “Not important.”
“Listen up ’cause this is important. Aeternal genetics lesson barreling down the road right at ya. With mixed breeds, one species dominates after the Awakening. Whichever beast you feed, wins the fight. Alarik fed the warlock; he starved his incubus because of our mother. Let me regress, or is it digress?”
Indigo sighed. “Anyway. An incubus raped her, leaving her crying on the pine needles in the woods near our village. She fought her way back home, and nine months later gave birth to a warlock-incubus bastard, my half-brother. It was all very hush-hush, nobody telling my warlock daddy he hadn’t sired a son. But Daddy discovered the secret, went crazy, killed Mommy. Flash forward. Growing up, Alarik observed no incubus customs. He chose a mage Awakening. Hence, he fed his warlock beast. I thought he’d settle down with a nice witch. Instead, he sent his swimmers to the vampiress from hell who refuses to mate him. Out popped a sparky little warlocky bloodsucking incubus.”
“Did Rein choose to go through the vampire Awakening?” Braelyn struggled to follow Indigo’s rambling conversation.
“Hell’s bells no! He reveled in being a warlock, and my brother fed him a steady mage diet. Bitchelicious, not being the motherly type, gave the bambinos to Alarik to raise in his own image. So, Boyo grew up looking down his nose at vampires and incubi. Sure, if his little pecker got hard, he sprouted fangs, but most often, he sneered at those who drank blood. He never imbibed, had no intention of doing so. By the time he neared his powers, he had mapped out his entire destiny. A brainiac gathering of dark-robed mages, the warlock Synod, had invited him to join their ranks, a tiresome, uninspired group of maniacal pseudo-intellectual morons. While they salivated over the idea of his becoming a member, he puffed up at the offer. You see, Boyo was gifted at an early age.”
“Then I’m very confused.”
“All hell broke loose. The fanged sister-in-law-from-Angor decided to amp up her vamp right down to her pointy-toed stilettos. She caved under pressure from her family, who wanted no mage-incubi gifts to ruin their lineage. Let me start on the big day. My brother threw a pre-warlock Awakening bash for Rein on his twenty-second birthday. Each species on Scath has its own coming-out party, but overall, they’re the same. The male or female comes into power during a ceremony to recognize the milestone. Blah. Blah. Blah. All very Bar Mitzvah. Bitchelicious, though, had other plans. She showed up at Rein’s Awakening, whisking him away before he was full-on warlock. She set him on another path.”
Indigo stroked her neck. “I’m tired of talking, dear. Sore throat. Here. Hold my hand to watch.”
When Braelyn clasped Indigo’s palm, a chill swept over her. Her ears buzzed with the sounds of a thousand swarming bees, and the room went topsy-turvy.
Braelyn sat beside Indigo on steps in the backyard of an enormous mansion. A young, handsome Rein flirted with a blonde Marie Antoinette stand-in. Castia sauntered across the lawn toward him. When she touched her son, whispering something in his ear, he disappeared.
Indigo patted Braelyn’s hand. “I could use another drink. How about you?” She paused in her story to hold up the bottle.
Nodding, Braelyn shoved her glass over, eager for Indigo to continue. “What happened to Rein and Castia?”
Sipping her second drink, Indigo stretched her hand out palm up. “Grab hold. There’s more.”
The women stood on solid rock inside a cave lighted by torches. A tiny stream of sunlight shone through a hole above. Water trickled down the sides of walls while soft dripping sounds echoed. The air was damp, earthy, a bit moldy.
Rein and Castia argued on the other side of the large cavern.
“What have you done, Mother?” Rein growled, his gaze sweeping the area, swallowing his surroundings. Cages. Chains. Beds. Supplies.
“I have done what is necessary to make you strong. You will go through the vampire Awakening to achieve your full potential.”
“No. I am a warlock.” The young Rein clenched his fists.
“You will be more powerful than a mage.”
Two males swaggered into the cavern.
Castia ignored her son’s continued arguments. “These are Warrick and Balto. They are your guides as they were mine when I was your age.” She snapped her chin up, sure of her decision.
Warrick, the larger vampire, stood about six-foot-three, a muscular male with a crooked smile. The other, Balto, was shorter, with a more sinewy build and depraved eyes.
Rein thrust out his hand to stop their forward movement, but they kept coming.
“Your weak magic won’t work here. A potent warlock swept the cave,” said Warrick. “Your mage abilities are a pollutant. We will cast them from you. Likewise, we will bind your incubus strengths. With our help, you will recognize your true calling, the power of blood.”
A feral growl rose from deep in Rein’s chest when he faced his mother. “Father. Was he involved?” His hatred locked her in a withering stare.
“We discussed this. I convinced him the Awakening is in your best interest.”
