by Tricia Barr
“Let’s find out,” Draven replied.
Kenzie shoved her book back in her bag and quietly spat out the hiding spell, then dashed to keep up with Draven. Her stomach twisted and turned, underpinned with a sort of excitement that only served to confuse matters further.
Draven went to the front door, cracking it open. Only a sliver of light spilled in, thanks to some ingenious design, but it was enough. Draven didn’t even flinch in the warm glow. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he took another step into the gap. Draven began to laugh, stepping all the way out, and Kenzie and Mr. Bean followed. Some of the students and vampires milling in the Grand Hall watched with interest, but only those still human dared to venture out behind the trio.
Draven stood a few steps down, his arms upturned, his eyes closed as he faced the midday sun. He looked back at Kenzie with a sly grin, then dashed down the stairs so quickly Kenzie couldn’t keep track of his form. Excited murmurs from students sounded behind Kenzie. A sense of pride welled up, knowing what she’d accomplished, even as terror filled her.
She’d just unleashed the most powerful vampire in the world.
As if her thought had summoned him, Draven zipped to the bottom of the stairs. “Start rolling, Steadman!”
Mr. Bean—or Steadman, apparently—pushed a button on his device as he held it in front of him, and a blue light blinked on.
“Vampires, shifters, supernaturals everywhere! I wanted to share the glorious news. Your leader has been liberated from the chains of the night. I can now walk fearlessly through the day. Our greatest dreams are about to be realized, and all thanks to this young selkie.”
The camera panned to Kenzie, who froze. She cracked a sheepish smile as she brought her hand halfway up and curled her fingers in a weak attempt to wave. The butterflies in her stomach turned to frightened bats, beating at her insides in a mad attempt to escape. But there was no escape.
The camera panned back to Draven, and Kenzie took a deep, shuddering breath. Fudgsicles.
Kenzie buried her face in her hands as Draven made his final remarks. She could almost envision the horror on the faces of shifters as they watched—Juliet, Oberon, Delphine. Draven had just put the final nail in her coffin. Steadman lowered the device, the blue light winking off.
Draven climbed the stairs, stopping next to Kenzie and putting a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Excellent work. Soon we’ll have an entire army of daywalkers at our disposal. You’re a great addition to the team. I trust you won’t let me down.”
Kenzie swallowed. “Of course not,” she croaked.
Draven turned his attention to the students. “As you can see, being a vampire no longer has limitations—if you’re willing to work hard and prove yourself. And today has another treat in store. One of your own has ascended! Let us go inside so we can all greet Adam.”
Kenzie followed Draven, her face numb, her hands trembling. Adam as a human was one thing, but Adam as a vampire? And he’d be feeding off her, his first taste today. It was part of the pageantry Draven was putting on. He wanted everyone to see her loyalty, her commitment to the cause. Though he hadn’t told her she was going to be filmed, or her image broadcasted to the shifters. She only hoped they would be able to see her true intentions, though she doubted it.
By the time they reached the lobby, it had been filled. The vampires and Initiates had obviously seen the broadcast, and they chattered excitedly.
A table was pulled out, and Draven hopped on top, patting the air with his hands to get the crowd to quiet. When it was soft enough to hear a pin drop, Draven spoke. “As you all know, I recently reunited with my daughter, Myreen. Her presence gives us all hope of a better, brighter future. Apparently, she’s our good luck charm. Her friend, Kenzie, is a selkie who has brought us the ability to walk in daylight. And one of your own, Adam, has proved himself committed to our cause. His ability to spot flaws and holes in our research has allowed us to come closer than ever to creating a vampire-shifter hybrid.”
As if summoned by hearing his name, Adam appeared. He spotted Kenzie through the crowd and flashed her a fanged smile. Kenzie lost her breath for the second time that day. Adam wasn’t just alluring now, he was heart-stopping. It wasn’t fair.
“And I’ve paired Adam and Kenzie as vampire and Initiate, a power couple to aspire to.”
There was applause, and Adam jumped onto the table, next to Draven—at Draven’s bidding, of course. Draven held out a hand to Kenzie, and she took it, and was instantly on the table as well, the world spinning, the crowd cheering. Or maybe jeering; Kenzie couldn’t tell.
And just like that, Adam was next to her ear. “Ready for your first bite?”
Kenzie gave a nervous laugh. It wasn’t exactly her first bite, but it might as well have been. And this was so different from being attacked, at once more sinister and seductive.
Adam took a deep sniff, then gently placed his fangs against the skin of her neck. Kenzie held her breath. Pain lanced through her as Adam sunk in, the world around her wavering. Kenzie closed her eyes as the venom pumped into her system, helping her relax. She didn’t fight it. It was easier this way. She could forget about the dangerous game she was playing, forget her failures and disappointments.
When Adam released her, the crowd cheered again. Kenzie didn’t open her eyes, basking in the afterglow of Adam’s bite. His warmth was still at her back, his hands rubbing her arms. Which was essentially useless, as his cold skin couldn’t warm her. But Kenzie didn’t mind.
His lips were by her ear again. “I hope that was as good for you as it was for me.”
Kenzie hummed and nodded. On some level, she knew this was so messed up, but she ignored the feeling. She’d stay in her happy place a little while longer. There’d be time to clean things up later. Maybe.
Chapter 27: Kol
Kol’s knee was still warm where Myreen’s hand had touched him only minutes ago. The moment was brief and though he knew it didn’t mean anything, he still couldn’t resist holding it there for few seconds longer, even as his heart crumbled.
And now she was gone.
The second her feet hit the stairs, she’d probably forgotten all about him, the very thought of him fleeing from her mind. But she wasn’t gone from his. She would never be gone from his. The image of Myreen—her dark, shining hair, her sparkling blue eyes—would forever be in his mind and heart for as long as Kol lived—which he realized, in his current predicament, might not be much longer.
Char shifted behind him, and a different sort of agony pierced through. She shouldn’t be in this cell. Being Draven’s prisoner, half-starved and surrounded by poisonous lead, was made worse knowing Charlotte suffered too. And it was likely his fault.
The mission should’ve been called off. Kol should’ve kept his damn mouth shut and listened to Corporal Modder. Instead, like the stupid, love-sick dragon he was, he insisted on going anyway, and practically forced Char’s hand. When she felt she couldn’t cancel the mission, she did the only thing she could by giving her unit an out before they began.
All but four of the team members leaving should’ve been Kol’s second clue.
But he stormed the castle anyway.
And she’d come too.
And she’d been captured and was suffering right alongside him.
Char’s teeth chattered. Kol moved toward her as quickly as his severely weakened body could, trying to pull her into his broken arms. The least he could do was try to keep her warm. For the thousandth time he wished their smart clothing was working properly.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, feeling her stiffen, but then relax against him. He felt warmer already, and hoped she did too. “I– I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” His voice cracked.
Her shivering stopped, and he thought she might’ve fallen asleep because she didn’t answer right away. But then she cleared her throat. “That was her.”
Kol knew it wasn’t a question. Char had seen Myreen before. “Yes. That was M
yreen,” he answered anyway.
“She’s pretty.”
It was a gross understatement, but he didn’t think he should correct her.
“But I don’t think you activated the curse,” she said, her voice breathless like she’d only spoken half a thought.
The edges of Kol’s torn heart burned painfully. It was a new sensation he still wasn’t used to. “You’re wrong,” he said. “I should’ve stayed away from her, but I couldn’t. We became a thing instead.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “I even went to her selkie friend to try to lift the curse when I felt myself getting close. But it didn’t work. I saw the look in her eyes the instant the curse was triggered.” He took in a ragged breath that wasn’t entirely from their physical situation. “I felt it, and then saw the change in her.”
Charlotte twisted in Kol’s arms so she could look at him. He loosened his grip to give them both space. Dark rings circled her eyes, almost looking like bruises. Her blonde hair snarled and tangled in places.
He figured he looked similarly terrible and rubbed some of the dirt from her cheekbone without thinking. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, realizing what he rubbed was an actual bruise. He wondered what monster gave it to her.
“Neither should you,” she said, suddenly motionless.
He dropped his hand.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, but ducked her head the second the words left her lips, like she wanted to take it back. “I know it’s not possible because my name and my blood isn’t Dracul, but sometimes I feel like I triggered the curse a long time ago.”
Kol wanted to put distance between them. He knew he should, because their proximity was clearly messing with Char’s emotions. Or maybe it was the lack of food and too much lead that made her head muddled. He knew it was affecting him, but not in that way. He wanted to put distance between them, but they both needed the body heat to survive. So, he went rigid like a statue and racked his brain for the right words. Too bad his brain wasn’t working at full capacity. Still, he was pretty sure he’d never be ready for this sort of conversation with her. All neurons firing correctly or not.
“I’ve always accepted it, you know?” Her eyes lifted to his and she let out a shaky laugh. “And I know... we’re young. I’m only eighteen and you’re only seventeen, but I’ve always accepted and looked forward to the eventuality that one day it would be you and me against the world. You know?”
Definitely the symptoms of a muddled-head.
“Char—”
“I’m glad we were so close at school before I left,” she interrupted. “At least we’d always have that friendship foundation when either you or I...”
“What? Got married and one of us triggered the curse?” He dropped his arms and scooted a few inches away so they were no longer touching. But his temperature drop at the loss of contact was almost tangible. He knew she felt it too, and hoped they could get over this emotional hurdle before either of them froze to death. “Have you seen my parents? Do you think my mom is happy to be crazy about my dad when he’s so indifferent to her?”
“He respects her,” she said, though her argument was weak. Still, she scooted closer to him again, moving quicker than he could have. “Which is a sort of love.”
“Char—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Do you respect me?” she asked.
He stared unblinkingly at her as confirmation that he did.
“Do you...” she choked. “Love me?”
Of course he loved her, and too late he felt the expression on his face shout the truth of it but—
She leaned forward and kissed him. He remained motionless until she’d finished. Kol had been kissed by plenty of girls in the past, and he’d never had an issue with kissing them back, even when he didn’t have any feelings for them.
But loving Myreen had changed that.
Even though she hated him now, even though she was probably glad he’d been thrown into this dungeon—although her face and actions didn’t exactly advertise that—focus! Even with all of that, he couldn’t kiss Char back. He didn’t want to. As much as he loved and respected Char, he could not kiss her back.
Rejection replaced whatever emotion Char had been wearing before the kiss and she shrunk back to escape to her corner. He touched her arm, and she stopped. He wrapped her in his arms again. They both needed the warmth. And she needed a friend.
“I do love you, Char,” he said. “Always have.”
She shuddered against him, but he suspected it wasn’t from the cold.
“But I love her.” He put emphasis on the word. “I fell in love with her... and triggered the curse.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Draven’s booming tone filled the entire dungeon. “But you and I have some business to take care of, Malkolm Dracul.”
Kol didn’t move, though Char gently tried to pry herself from his grasp.
Draven tsked. “Is this hatchling the reason my daughter has a broken heart? Huh?”
Kol’s head snapped to Draven and he released Char. Broken heart? What did Myreen tell him?
“It’s too late now, Kol. I witnessed that little embrace you two shared.” Draven paced outside the bars. “There’s no need to hide it. The question is, should I tell Myreen?”
Kol opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted before his lips could move.
“I won’t. But for her sake, not yours.” Draven stopped pacing and crouched so he was at Kol’s eye level. “Now, for the reason I’ve come.” He snapped his fingers and Hair Gel arrived with a couple of archaic gas masks that looked like they were stolen from the set of a World War I movie, and what appeared to be a garden hose.
Hair Gel handed one of the masks to Draven before hoisting the hose underneath his arm, ready to put out... a fire, probably.
Kol gave them both a withering look. Whatever was put in his cell prevented even a spark inside him, let alone a blaze large enough that needed extinguishing. He made a point not to think about the purpose of the masks.
Draven ignored the look and paced again, his arms behind his back. “I wonder if you have any insight into that little shifter military and what they’re planning?”
Kol knew his look was incredulous, but Draven didn’t seem to get the message. “You know I’m in here, right?” he said. “How could I possibly know their plans?” He hoped a rescue mission to save himself and Char was underway, but there was no way of knowing that either.
When they’d been captured, Charlotte drilled into Kol’s head—as covertly as possible, of course—that they shouldn’t assume anything. So far, nothing had connected them to the military. Char wanted to keep it that way, and Kol agreed. Let them think they were driven to rescue a friend and were working of their own accord. If Draven knew they were under orders of the larger body of the shifter military, they could be held for ransom, tortured for information, or killed.
So far, the only thing Draven had deduced was that he’d captured a Dracul dragon and his dragon friend. The longer he believed that and didn’t figure out the truth, the better. And if he did somehow figure out their roles in the military, Kol prayed Draven wouldn’t learn Char’s rank.
Revealing or slipping that information could mean a death sentence for Charlotte.
“You’re the son of Eduard Dracul, certainly you must know something.” Draven gripped one of the bars, his mask still clutched in the other hand.
“You think my father doles out military secrets to me? Just like that?” Kol scoffed. “I assure you, the General is smarter than that.”
Draven’s carefully crafted expression slipped, but he instantly covered it with the mask. “This will hurt a little,” his muffled, inhuman voice warned.
Hair Gel lowered his mask too, before a nod from Draven prompted him to pull a lever on the hose.
A loud hisssss sounded as yellow smoke poured from the nozzle.
Kol looked back at Char, whose eyes were wide and frightened. He wanted to reach back, to try to take her hand
, but worried it would turn Draven’s attention to her instead. Still, neither of them were escaping the yellow gas.
Kol’s right leg cracked first, bending backward at the knee as it was forced to shift into his dragon leg. Then his left. More bones popped and cracked, both his and Char’s, and she let out a yelp. It felt like the first shift, awkward and uncomfortable and painful. Actually more painful than his first shift, but that was most likely the intended result of the toxic gas.
Blue scales flipped like fingernails, bending back from his and Char’s skin, identical in color just as they’d been when they first flew to the towers. Tears streamed down Char’s face, but she only gave the occasional whimper. Kol bit his tongue hard enough to taste coppery blood as his spine stretched to form his tail, his shoulder blades breaking from his skin to stretch into enormous wings.
As the dragons grew to their full size, their cell became excruciatingly cramped, until they pressed against each other and the bars with equal force. The burning pain of the lead only slightly trumped the awful smell and sizzling of his and Char’s scales. And it mercifully kept his weight off his broken arms.
Draven removed his mask after the gas vanished, a smile plastered to his face. “Now,” he said, allowing a painful pause to hover in the air. “What do you know about the shifter military?”
“I. Don’t. Know,” Kol said, more out of exasperation at the question rather than his current tight situation. “I thought you were smart.” And there went his mouth.
Hair Gel pulled out a set of very large pliers and handed them to Draven, who held them precariously, like they could hurt the vampire, too. Kol didn’t need to be told what they were for.
“Did you know that the scales of a dragon are not only impenetrable, but they don’t decay like the rest of the body?” Draven asked, his eyes on the pliers as he turned them in his hand. “It makes one wonder why a person wouldn’t happen upon dead dragons more often.”