by Sela Croft
Jason dragged a hand through his hair. “Oh, they do, believe me.”
“I’m not going to ask. I’m aware that much goes on that I haven’t seen.” I took a breath. “This castle is a house of horror, made to appear otherwise.”
“It’s a carefully constructed illusion,” Jason said. “But I won’t belabor the details, as I don’t wish to assault your innocence with tales of darkness.”
I put up my hand. “I’m tired of being told that. You aren’t the first to tread lightly around my innocence.” I paused. “I’m being held captive by Silvain, the leader of the Dark Fighters, and what he has in store will surely obliterate my innocence.”
Jason didn’t reply.
“So let’s put that aside,” I said. “I’m tougher than you think. And I want to hear more of what your life has really been like.”
For a while, Jason spoke of life, and what he’d experienced. I was aware that he withheld the worst of it. Even so, he conveyed that I was surrounded by the depths of depravity. He looked at the garden. “I find hope in nature, as there is little to be found elsewhere.”
“What do you know about where I come from?”
Jason thought that over. “Not as much as I’d like to. I sometimes dream that I’ll go there one day and be free of tyranny. But…it’s only a dream.”
“How is it that humans came to inhabit Lumea?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard tales of ships lost at sea…that sort of thing?”
I nodded. “It’s the stuff of myth and legend.”
“Only it happens to be factual,” Jason said. “For centuries, men and women have been lost at sea. Lumea was all too willing to have humans in the realm. It was unworkable to traverse into your realm, and routinely abduct humans for feeding purposes.”
“I can see that.”
“It’s a simple matter to breed humans, and plenty have fallen into their grasp. The fight for blood can be brutal.”
“You know this firsthand?” I held my breath, certain the answer would upset me.
“I was married and had a son,” Jason said. “It seems so long ago. I was only twenty-five when…they were killed. It’s been ten years, yet…I can’t forget.”
“How did they die?”
“In battle,” Jason said. “But not fighting. My beloved wife and son were casualties of war. It all seems so senseless.”
My heart went out to Jason, for the loss and pain he’d endured.
“It’s special…your arrival here.” Jason didn’t say more.
“Why is that?” I said. “How can it be significant for you?”
Jason seemed to gather his thoughts. “My ancestors were military, warriors of long ago. The tales of their escapades were told over many generations. I know them by heart. I’m of their blood; I have their spirit. And I haven’t given up.”
“On what, Jason?”
“I dream that someday I’ll return to the human realm above. I want to see it, to know that it’s real. To escape this…hell.”
I swallowed hard.
“You bring hope,” Jason said. “What you’ve told me about where you come from has meant everything. I know the world still exists, that it’s something to fight for.”
“Yes…it is.”
Jason stood. “I better get back to work. We wouldn’t want the monsters who control us to get suspicious.”
“I’d like to talk again.”
“We shall,” Jason said. “I’m willing to support you in any way I can. You came from a better place, so you represent…happier prospects. I’ll do all I can to keep you safe.”
I sat a bit longer, taking time to process all that I’d heard. It was more vital than ever that I succeed in my aim. Not only for Draven and myself, but for others. The pain that humans had endured could not be ignored. It shouldn’t be tolerated.
Yet I was trapped. And I had no way to contact Draven—if he was in any position to help. As if all that wasn’t enough, the cruel master of the castle would arrive to take charge, bringing more horrors with him. Yet I’d made a friend…so maybe all was not lost.
CHAPTER 21 – DRAVEN
When I regained consciousness, Quin was beside me. I was weak as a kitten but alive. The boat glided through the water, gently rocking beneath me. I was still perilously close to death; my head was heavy and my limbs leaden.
Even immortals had to have sustenance to live. My body ached for the blood it lacked, and my veins burned for a drink. Whether my need would be satisfied remained in question. I wasn’t sure what I’d missed during my sleep, or how long we’d been on the river.
“The boat is taking the long route to avoid the enemy,” Quin said. “I’ve given you my blood, but I’m aware it’s not enough. I’m starved, as are the other men. But we weren’t abused, our endurance stretched, so we fare better than you.”
I’d escaped prison with the aid of my comrades yet remained at risk. With the Dark Fighters blocking the direct route home, there was no choice but to take the more rigorous path. I’d have to dig deep and find a reservoir of strength within.
In enemy territory and cut off from our army, my comrades and I might yet be caught. If that happened, the odds would be against us. It was imperative that I regain my health, so I could fight. It wouldn’t do to be lying in a bed, barely conscious.
For a while, I drifted in and out of consciousness. I had a vague awareness of conversation above deck, and what transpired around me. The boat was familiar, one of the smaller ones in our fleet, suitable for river navigation. The hull was long and narrow, built for speed.
Rowing allowed the craft to glide through the water without relying on wind. There was a sail for other occasions. The boat was sturdy and well maintained. It felt good underneath me, reliable, and like an old friend. Yet my comrades were unsettled.
“No doubt the prison has reported the escape,” Jon said. “Silvain will be livid that his captive slipped away, killing his guards in the process. He’ll send a posse of fighters after us, and their necks will be on the line if they fail to bring us back.”
“It’s urgent that we traverse this river as fast as possible,” Spence said.
“But we must stop at Styx port,” Jon said. “It’s just up around the bend. We have to feed, and if Draven doesn’t get proper blood soon, he won’t make it.”
Quin hadn’t left my side, so was below deck beside me. He squeezed my arm. “We’ll be in and out quickly,” he said. “I won’t have you die on me. We know this port; blood slaves are there to be had.”
I looked into Quin’s purple-tinged eyes, unable to argue. I hadn’t the strength or motivation. My craving for human blood had become overpowering. I dared not think about it or I’d be clawing the bed. My comrade didn’t look so good either.
Quin’s cheekbones were more prominent, a reminder that he hadn’t fed in weeks. His cheeks were hollowed, his skin tight, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He needed to feed, and the others did too.
It wasn’t long before the boat slowed. Other voices could be heard from shore. Any port could be dangerous, as spies abounded in the kingdom. Since that part of the river bordered enemy territory, there were likely those who supported Silvain. The idea was to be as clandestine as possible.
The human slaves were housed close to port, to facilitate feeding. Quin waited with me, while the other two made a quick foray into town. I agonized while they were away, trying to focus on anything besides images of my men quenching their thirst.
I’d been to the port before. I recalled that it was busy with an assortment of traffic, commercial and military. The town didn’t have much to recommend it. There were places for travelers to stay, and other port facilities. But the place was gloomy and seemed to exude death.
I hoped that didn’t bode ill. But there wasn’t another well-supplied port for miles. There was no choice but to face any danger that lurked. Feeding couldn’t wait. While the others were gone, Quin was quiet. He was capable of defending the boat, if it
came to that. But I was aware that his energy waned from blood deprivation.
My consolation was that Silvain would be royally pissed. His best effort at forcing me into submission had failed. His minions hadn’t obtained a shred of information, despite doing their best to torture it out of me. And just when he might have had the pleasure of tightening the screws himself, I’d slipped out of his grasp.
The dark leader was revered for his ability and feared for his ruthlessness. After so many years, I knew him well. Silvain would take my departure personally and consider it an insult. That was one more bad mark against me. But I had plenty already.
His limited patience didn’t allow for mistakes. I was sure his men would pay the price for letting me get away. Yet before he tended to that, he would pull all available forces to hunt me down. In his blind rage, regaining possession of me would be top priority.
Clanging metal, creaking wood, and muffled voices came from the dock. Then other voices grew louder, indicating an approach. It was Jon and Spence. I tried to steady my breathing in anticipation of what was to come. Quin stood and stepped away from my bed.
The scent of human blood filled the cabin. In a flash, Quin grabbed a young boy who stepped inside. The boy didn’t fight, just tipped his head to the side. Quin’s fangs gleamed before he bit into the slave’s neck.
I didn’t see more, as a sturdy woman kneeled by the bed. She had her hair tied back with her neck exposed. I didn’t take note of any other features. The aroma of her blood was intoxicating. My fangs ached with need, and my belly roiled.
It had been too long; I had no control. With my hand on the back of her head, I sank my fangs into her neck, biting deeply into the vein. Delicious blood pumped into my mouth and over my tongue. I sucked hard, taking long pulls of the sustenance.
I drank and drank, aware only of the sensation of blood flowing into me, sating my ravenous hunger. At last, energy surged within me, so I slowed the feeding. I wasn’t sure how long my mouth had been locked on to the food source.
When I pulled away, the slave was alive. Her pulse throbbed weakly at her throat. She moved off then left. I reeled from the sudden influx of blood. As could be expected, I was drowsy, so closed my eyes. The feeding had been what I needed. But it would take a few minutes for me to recover.
The boat began to move, so I imagined the feeders had been left ashore—then we’d shoved off. Life-giving blood filled my veins and restored my strength. With renewed energy, I sat up and looked around. It had been a while since I’d felt vibrant.
My wounds had healed, and my body had been restored. I stood to walk about the confined space. The dizziness had worn off, and the headiness from the blood had abated. I went above deck to take a turn at rowing.
Quin nodded, appearing livelier than before. “You gave us a scare.”
“The blood didn’t arrive any too soon.” I sat on a bench and grabbed an oar. “Silvain and his goons will pay for their treachery.”
Spence raised his eyebrows, his yellow-green eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “I like the sound of that.”
“That demented vampire defies description. He revolted against the monarchy, then chose to become our enemy, as well.” I began to row. “He fancies himself so powerful that he can deal with enemies on every side and come out the victor. I’ll show him that he isn’t invincible.”
“I despise that dark one; he hasn’t a flicker of mercy in his soul,” Jon said, and his bronze eyes flared with simmering rage.
Quin’s biceps flexed as he rowed. “What I’d like to know is what you were doing in the prison in the first place.” He looked at me. “I was told that you overstayed your welcome in the human realm…because of a woman.”
Jon squinted. “I can’t believe that all this was over a woman.”
Spence didn’t chime in, waiting for my reply.
“She’s not a mere woman.” I sat taller. “Mirela is a goddess.”
Jon shook his head. “All women are, when you’re smitten.” He sighed. “But I can’t believe this of you.”
“I admit to an excessive delay in returning home,” I said. “That error in judgment cost me. But…Mirela was worth it.”
Quin leaned into a pull of the oar. “I dread to think where this is headed.”
“And you’d be right.” I looked at my comrades. “Mirela needs our help. My appearance has turned her life upside down. In captivity, I tried to keep an eye on her. But then I lost the trail.”
“What do you propose?” Quin said.
“I must find her. It’s up to me to protect her.”
Quin glared. “Well, then I suggest that you don’t get captured again. It’s difficult to ensure a woman’s safety as it is. From prison, it’s impossible.” He breathed hard, pouring effort into rowing. “And it’s a pain in the ass rescuing you.”
It was good to be out in the air. I’d been cooped up too long. I was back in my element. The rainforest was behind us; the scenery had changed. Around the next bend was a tributary that would lead us to the sea. From there, we could return home.
We’d taken the scenic route, but it had been better than entertaining our enemies while we were in a weakened state. My muscles flexed with the effort of rowing; the task was invigorating. Rounding the bend, the sea came into view.
It wouldn’t be long before I was home, back within the security of my coastal city. The boat was close to shore, progressing toward the coastal region. There I could fully recover, and my men could get refreshed—if we made it that far.
There was still a lot of water between the boat and home. The enemy was after us, and there were only so many routes we could have taken. It was only a matter of time before we faced an encounter. Speed was of the essence. The goal was to reunite with the main army, in advance of any confrontation.
The farther we traveled, the higher my hopes. It began to look like we’d make it. I envisioned the welcome we could expect and the luxuries we could enjoy. Recent days had been a trial, but there were better times to look forward to.
Yet my mind wouldn’t be at peace until I had Mirela under my protection. The unanticipated visit to Silvain’s prison had temporarily derailed my efforts. As we navigated toward home, another boat from our fleet came out to meet us. It reminded me that our army extended outside our region’s perimeter. One of my soldiers came aboard with a message.
He strode over to me and stood at attention. “When your boat was spotted off the coast, word was passed along. I’m here to relay some recent intelligence.”
I stood before him. “Yes, soldier, please tell me what you know.”
After relaying some general news, the soldier paused. “It’s about Silvain…”
“I know he’s on the warpath and will muster forces to recapture me.”
“No…not that.” The soldier looked into my eyes. “Through intelligence efforts, a report has come through. Silvain claims that he has a treasure that belongs to you.”
My heart fell.
“He is spreading the rumor that you prize a human named Mirela Godwin.”
No response was expected, so I remained silent.
The soldier straightened his shoulders. “Silvain hired the enforcers. The women abducted Mirela…grabbed her off a cliff in the human realm.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. “Where is she now?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the soldier said. “Silvain has hidden Mirela, and no doubt she’s guarded. But we haven’t been able to discover the location.”
CHAPTER 22 – CALINA
I dared not hope that my brother would appear soon. Draven had been gone too long for that. Since I was his older sister, he’d left me in charge, while he went off on some romantic folly. I was only a year older than he was, so it was hardly fair to leave me alone with no word on how he fared.
I was very worried. It wasn’t managing castle affairs and overseeing the army that concerned me. I’d done so before. The problem was that my dear brother had dropped off the radar. Telep
athy was one of my abilities.
Yet I’d been unable to contact Draven, and it was enormously frustrating. It wasn’t much of an inconvenience to stay in the castle during his absence. I was well cared for by the house staff, the vampire protectors, and the army faction assigned to guard the perimeter.
The castle was its own city; any facility required was available. The interior was huge, with cavernous rooms and endless, winding hallways. The vastness made me long for my own home, a more modest residence not far from the palace.
My home was cozy; I’d made it so, as I preferred the intimacy. When I stayed at Draven’s, I was swallowed up by the huge rooms decked out with massive pieces of wood furniture. Paintings that had to weigh hundreds of pounds each, including the gold ornate frames, adorned the walls.
Draven liked his artwork, so it wasn’t my role to say that he’d overdone it. At least I had my own place, where I could settle in to pretend that life held warmth and security. The long stay in the chilly castle didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy.
The fact that the embattlements were protected by soldiers working in shifts did little to reassure me. The situation was a reminder that we were at war and had been for centuries. My hideaway at home was but a fantasy, a temporary respite.
One of the sitting rooms was my favorite, as I’d helped decorate it. The carpets were thick and lovely, with a crystal chandelier sparkling above. There was a stone fireplace with velvet chairs to sink into. A polished wood desk gleamed in front of a wall of shelves filled with books.
I’d strolled the grounds that morning, consulted with the guards, checked on the army, and, in short, fulfilled my duties. All seemed well, except for one major oversight. My brother was nowhere to be found. A rescue mission had been sent out weeks before.
The vampires assigned to the task were Draven’s closest comrades, including Quin, his second-in-command. But no message had been sent regarding my brother, and to add to the misery, there had been no word from the rescue mission.