A Shade of Vampire 79: A Game of Death

by Forrest, Bella

  “I understand you’ve been keeping a low profile, Tae, but I need your help. I have to get to Visio. I am positive that I’ll be able to get to the truth of what happened to Nethissis, as long as nobody knows I’m there, especially Derek and his crew. She… She deserves this much.”

  Eira nodded faintly. “Derek’s team can’t stir much trouble there. They’re after the day-walking protein. But, to be fair, if anyone on Visio is responsible for Nethissis’s death, we can’t let them get away with it,” she said, looking at Taeral. “You can help.”

  Taeral stared at her for a while, and I had a feeling they both knew something I didn’t. To say that I was intrigued would’ve been a gross understatement, but I kept quiet, waiting for him to give me an answer. I’d already made my case. There wasn’t anything else I could tell him to earn his favor. The ball was in his court.

  He shifted his gaze to me, a twinkle of mischief animating the embers in his eyes. “There’s something I haven’t told you about my more recent immersions in the world of Reapers,” he said.

  “Okay…” I breathed.

  “I think I can help you. I just didn’t consider it an option. But Eira is right. Whatever is happening on Visio, we cannot let anyone get away with Nethissis’s murder,” he replied. “I won’t be able to take you there myself, because it’s too far away—”

  “And the whole of GASP has its spotlight on you, since you were entrusted with Thieron,” I interrupted him. “I know. It’s why I asked you to put me in touch with a Reaper.”

  “There’s a solution. But you’ll have to see it for yourself in order to understand the lengths we’re about to go to for Nethissis… for your mission,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but frown, slightly confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Taeral gave me a half-smile. “Trust me, you’ll have to see it to believe it.”

  My curiosity had swelled into a monster, eating me up on the inside. What had Taeral been up to since we’d last met? What had he uncovered in the veil between the world of the living and that of the dead? Most importantly, who was going to help me get to Visio?

  I had more questions than I’d thought, but I also trusted Taeral. If he said he had a way, then he had a way. But I was dying to know what it was. Whatever method of transportation he’d provide, I understood that I was one step closer to reaching Visio, to finding out who’d killed my Nethissis and why. That was all that mattered.

  Esme

  We had a lot on our plates after only a few days on Visio. It wasn’t just Nethissis’s death that was haunting us—though, as far as I was concerned, it was by far our most pressing issue. Derek, Sofia, and Amal were still working on identifying and isolating the day-walking protein from the Aeternae’s blood, in the hopes of turning all vampires into day-walkers.

  The emergence of Darklings and their murderous attempt against Valaine had also taken center stage, along with the possibility that they might’ve had something to do with Nethissis’s demise—we had no proof of this, though. No motive. It was difficult to move it past the assumption point. On top of that, the premature return of the Black Fever, which threatened to decimate the Aeternae population and had no cure, was equally troubling. With our hands full like this, Tristan and I had decided to divide the tasks between us as efficiently as possible.

  He and Valaine were following the Darkling angle, mainly because they had yet to figure out how the group had infiltrated the palace. Kalon and I focused on interviewing the palace gardeners first, hoping we’d get an answer as to how Nethissis had made her way out here—and how a damn fox had managed to kill her.

  The first three interviews had not yielded much, though I couldn’t fault the Rimian gardeners for it. They’d all told us the same thing. They’d been having trouble for years with keeping the foxes out because of the gardens’ exquisitely attractive biodiversity. The animals’ presence here was not odd.

  Golden guards were stationed by the palace’s back doors, and they were a recent fixture. Danika and Acheron had apparently ordered them to stay close, because their eyes were on us at all times.

  “You know they’re watching us, right?” I asked Kalon as we moved to interview a fourth Rimian gardener. He waited close to the bush where we’d found Nethissis, sweating rivers as we approached him.

  Kalon glanced over his shoulder, then back at me. “You mean the guards?”

  I nodded. “We’ve stirred the pot, haven’t we?”

  “You can say that again,” Kalon muttered. He couldn’t see me smiling beneath my sun mask. I found his broodiness a bit endearing, because I felt it was genuine. Nethissis’s death had taken him by surprise, and he was more than willing to help me figure out what had happened to her. My opinion of Kalon Visentis had shifted significantly from that first impression.

  We stopped in front of the Rimian gardener, who bowed politely, nervously eyeing me. “Milady,” he mumbled.

  “You were on the night shift here, weren’t you?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and soft. I’d learned to soothe my interviewees, especially when they were on edge like this guy. Maybe he was hiding something.

  “I was, milady,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

  Kalon was quick to notice. “What’s wrong? You look nervous.”

  “Oh, no, milord. I’m… I’m just shocked by what happened,” the gardener managed, but I wasn’t buying it.

  “What is your name?” I asked, keeping my hands behind my back.

  “Beval, milady,” the gardener said. “At your service.”

  “What did you see last night, Beval?” I replied, knowing he, like his colleagues, had already been questioned by the golden guards.

  Corbin was still in the palace, interviewing servants. I had no idea what Petra and Zoltan were up to, but a murder investigation was definitely not their cup of tea, especially since they were keen to label this an accident. I could see why they didn’t want Nethissis’s death to be anything more than an unfortunate accident, but I cared very little for their national pride.

  “Not much, milady. I was just tending to the nocturnal plants on the other side of the garden. I could not see all the way here,” Beval said, staring at the torn bush. His breathing was erratic. His heart was pounding.

  “You know, there’s one thing I appreciate about good people,” I replied. “Genuinely good people. They’re terrible liars. Did you know that?”

  Beval stared at me, his eyes wide and burning with guilt. “No, milady.”

  “You seem like a very good man,” I said. “And a piss-poor liar.”

  “Maybe you should tell us what you didn’t share with the golden guards,” Kalon interjected, his blue eyes reduced to cold, inquisitive slits. There was a threatening tone in his voice, one which beckoned Beval toward the truth—for more lies might get him in trouble, especially since he was so transparent.

  I was being honest, though. Beval came across as a good soul. A kindhearted Rimian with thick black hair and a clean-shaven face. He couldn’t be older than twenty—still young and malleable, in terms of character. He could still be steered in the right direction with the right prompting. I’d met people like him before. Beval wanted to tell the truth, but he was frightened. I just had to figure out why.

  “Milord, I don’t want to upset anyone.”

  “You’re upsetting me right now,” Kalon retorted. He towered over the Rimian in a muted but menacing fashion. I gripped his arm and squeezed gently, quietly asking him to stand back and let me take care of this.

  To my surprise, he didn’t question my intervention. On the contrary, he nodded once, allowing me to take over the conversation. Kalon understood what this investigation meant to me, so he’d let the more assertive side of him go dormant while we tried to find the truth.

  “Beval, please,” I said. “If there is something you know about what happened here, please tell us. I just want to find out what happened to my friend.”

  The Rimian looked at me, his eyes wide, his fac
e red with… shame. “I am sorry, milady, but these are dangerous questions you ask.”

  “I know you can’t really tell by my dress and all, but I’m perfectly equipped to deal with danger, regardless of its scale,” I replied.

  Feeling Kalon’s eyes on me, I gave him a brief glance. Indeed, he was measuring me from head to toe, and it wasn’t the first time. Granted, I’d opted for a black leather dress with a full and rich tulle underskirt, and it did make me stand out, though not in a flashy way. It matched my mood.

  My insides felt warm as he looked away and focused on Beval again, who was still having trouble opening up to us. I had to get him to talk, sooner rather than later.

  “I won’t tell anyone whatever it is you’re keeping from us,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I only want to know what you saw, Beval. I’ll make sure none of the golden guards hear about this.”

  Beval seemed tempted to trust me, but he looked at Kalon and was wary again.

  “My lips are sealed,” Kalon said. “Esme and I are on the same team here.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me, milord, if I find that hard to believe,” Beval replied. “Especially considering who your mother is.”

  “Oh, snap.” I gasped, trying not to chuckle.

  Kalon’s expression darkened, but he kept his composure incredibly well. I was impressed. “Believe it or not, I am not my mother’s appendix. I am my own person. Also, what does the high priestess have to do with any of this?”

  “Lady Esme here wants to know what happened to her snake friend. The high priestess, much like the Lord and Lady Supreme, wants this whole business to be wrapped up quickly and without any additional fuss,” the gardener said. “I serve the empire, of course, and therefore I wouldn’t want my allegiance tested or doubted here.”

  “Beval, look at me,” I replied, resting one hand on his bony shoulder. “I promise you that neither Lord Visentis nor I will breathe a word of what you tell us. But you cannot live with secrets. Not while I’m around, trying to find out what happened to my friend. If you don’t tell me what you know, if I have to get my truth from someone else, Beval… you won’t like it. Because I’ll be coming back for you, and no one will be able to protect you.”

  Instilling fear in people was not my usual approach, but my patience was running thin. The more time that passed after Nethissis’s demise, the higher the odds we wouldn’t catch her killer. Beval was literally obstructing my investigation.

  He breathed out, a faint whimper leaving his lips. He’d gotten my message, for sure.

  “Milady… I will tell you. I hope you will keep your word.”

  “We will both be quiet about your involvement,” Kalon replied. “I have no reason to screw you over, Beval. You’re a bloody gardener. I won’t even remember your name by tomorrow.”

  Was that pure elitism or just a ruse to get the guy to talk? I hoped I’d get my answer later, though I was already hoping for the latter. Out of all the people I’d met here on Visio, Kalon was the one I prayed would not end up disappointing me—or worse, betraying me or my people.

  “It’s not just the foxes we’ve been having trouble with, lately,” Beval finally spoke. “More than once, I’ve found foreign footprints and broken locks on the garden gates. I’ve seen shadows moving through the hedge maze. I’ve heard whispers… The attempt on Lady Crimson’s life was not the first time I’ve caught glimpses of Darklings in the palace.”

  I frowned. “You mean to tell us the Darklings are frequent covert visitors?”

  “Most of the time, I think they’re just scouting. Looking for the right entry angles. They know the golden guards’ movements. I warned them several times about Darklings, but they didn’t do much,” Beval explained. “I do know the fiends hang around the gardens a lot. Those of us on the night shift have learned to steer clear of the sections where we spot them. If we leave them be, they leave us be, too.”

  Kalon’s jaw was practically dislodged as he listened to Beval.

  “What about last night?” I asked the Rimian.

  Beval motioned around us. “I saw them here and there, about twenty yards away. ”

  My heart stopped for a moment. “Did you see Nethissis with them? My friend?”

  “It was too dark, milady,” Beval replied. “But they moved slowly until they got to this bush. Then they ran off and jumped over the fence.”

  “Did you see where they came from?” I asked. Tension gathered in my throat like a great ball of fire, threatening to explode and consume me. I needed to keep my wits about me.

  Beval nodded slowly. “From the palace. One of the service doors, most likely. They probably had keys or broke the locks. It doesn’t really matter. If they want to get in, they get in.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the golden guards about this?” Kalon demanded, a muscle ticking angrily in his jaw. A five o’clock shadow was growing, accentuating the sharp line of his high cheeks.

  “I don’t know, milord. I worry some of them might be friends with the Darklings,” Beval whispered. “It’s why I fear for my life. Why I stay quiet.”

  “You know, it makes sense. After all, the Darkling we captured was a golden guard,” I said to Kalon, keeping my voice down. I couldn’t risk any of the soldiers overhearing us from behind. The discovery had been confirmed earlier this morning, but given Nethissis’s death, I’d not had the time or energy to properly take that in. By this point, though, it was a plain fact—something we had to deal with. “I can see why Beval would be afraid to tell them what he saw.”

  Kalon ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair, once again looking behind him. The guards were still watching us, but they hadn’t moved an inch. He smiled, then turned his attention back to Beval. “You’re safe with us,” he whispered. “If there are traitors in golden armor, I promise you we’ll get them all, Beval.”

  The Rimian’s shoulders dropped, as if a huge weight had been lifted off him. “There is something more you should know, milord,” he murmured. “There’s word among the Rimians here in the capital that some of us have formed a faction. The Red Threads, they call themselves.”

  “What do they have to do with Nethissis’s murder?” I asked.

  Around us, the daytime gardeners were busy trimming the hedges, their shears cutting and snipping as they made their way through the central maze, toward the main fountain. I could hear the water trickling into its base vessel. A rushing sound that soothed my senses.

  “They’re trying to make contact with the Darklings,” Beval said. “I don’t know any of them personally, but the rumor is they want to help them. They’re anarchists.”

  Kalon was unsettled by this revelation, and he made zero effort to hide his reaction. “Are they crazy? Why would they want to do such a thing?” he replied. “Anarchy is the one thing that none of the Rimians and Naloreans should be looking for. They’ll be the ones to suffer the most if the empire falls.”

  Beval nodded. “I know, milord. It’s why I’ve kept my distance. But that’s not the most troubling aspect of the Red Threads. I heard a whisper that Trev Blayne is one of them.”

  “Where did you hear that? Who told you?” Kalon hissed, his brow furrowed. I could almost feel the anger coming off him in smoky waves. It made my skin tingle. There were many sides to him, and I was willing to bet that the worst had yet to reveal itself. What would an out-of-control Kalon Visentis look like?

  “I swear, milord, it was just a whisper in a tavern. It was a busy night, a couple of weeks ago,” Beval said, somehow shrinking before our very eyes. The Kalon effect was clearly powerful.

  I took my hand off Beval and smiled briefly. “Thank you for this information. You should get home now, before anyone thinks our conversation is downright riveting.”

  The Rimian gave us one last bow and scurried away, slipping through one of the garden’s service gates and leaving Kalon and me standing, somewhat dumbfounded, right next to where we’d found Nethissis’s body.

  A few minutes passed in
deafening silence as Kalon tried to process what he’d been told. He seemed incredulous, unwilling to believe that his friend might be in cahoots with the Darklings, the very people who’d tried to kill Valaine. To be fair, it did make me wonder, as well. What would his motivation have been?

  “Are you okay?” I asked Kalon.

  He nodded once. “At least we know for a fact that Nethissis was murdered,” he said. “If the shadows Beval saw were moving slowly until they got here, then ran off, they could’ve been carrying her body. Besides, two other gardeners have already confirmed that the foxes don’t snap necks like that.”

  My stomach clenched, anxiousness coursing through my veins, sharper and hotter than any other emotion that had tried me over the past couple of hours. But Kalon was right. At least we knew for a fact that Nethissis had been killed. By the Darklings, most likely.

  “What would the Darklings want with her?” I asked, and Kalon shrugged.

  “I don’t know. But you can’t mention any of this to the Lord and Lady Supreme. Not to the master commander, either. None of the higher ranks of Visio, for that matter,” he replied firmly. “Ideally, we should keep this to ourselves until we learn more. Maybe wait a little while longer before we tell Valaine and Tristan. I’d like to see what information they come up with, as well.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” I said. “What about Trev? The Red Threads? It’s all new to me.”

  The corner of his mouth turned into a sad, slight fraction of a smile. “It’s new to me, too, Esme. I’ve known Trev since he was a kid, fresh out of Rimia. He grew up with us, in my family. I find it hard to believe he’d work against us.”

  “Against you?”

  “The Darklings work against us. Against me. Against Valaine. Against the entire system. So do their associates,” he said. “The logical conclusion here being that, if Beval’s words are true, then my friend has been my enemy this whole time.”