Grinding her teeth back and forth, she struggled for calm. “Then I’ll just have to inform the council of my wishes. The time of Father dictating my life is over.”
Kenden smiled at her, admiration in his gaze. “You’ve come into your own, Randi. It’s about time.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said. “I need a shower if I’m going to have any chance of swaying even one of our dinosaur council members.”
“I’ve recently returned, too,” he said, eying her a bit warily.
“From where?”
“The human world. I was following up on some antiquated soothsayer gossip.”
“Do I need to be worried?” she asked, wondering what he was searching for.
“I’m not sure yet. It might be nothing. I came back here to check on things before I could really do any digging. Thank goodness, since I was here when Restia was attacked.”
“Is everyone there okay?”
He nodded. “It’s fine. Such a strange battle. I feel like so many bizarre things are happening in our world right now.”
Miranda thought of her meetings with Darkrip and sucking face with the Vampyre king. Yep, definitely abnormal, that was for sure. Deciding that now wasn’t the time to discuss those things with her cousin, she narrowed her eyes.
“Do you need my help? With the human thing?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s deal with your father first. That’s the most important thing. We have to prioritize.”
“Okay,” she said, clutching his hand and giving it a squeeze. “See you at the meeting.”
Miranda walked to the compound, through the barracks and took the back stairs of the main house to her bedroom.
Before she got there, she ran into Sadie and threw her arms around the tiny doctor. “Are you okay? I know the Vampyre woman escaped. Did she hurt you?”
“No,” Sadie said, only half of her face visible under her hoodie. “But I’m so sorry I let her escape. It was all my fault—”
“Stop it,” Miranda said, rubbing Sadie’s unburned upper-arm. “You’re not a soldier and it wasn’t your job to guard her. The soldiers who let her escape are to blame but I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Everything worked out. Don’t sweat it.”
“I’ll make it up to you—”
“Good lord, I’ll be mad if you think about it for one more moment. And that’s an order, straight from your princess. Got it?”
A thin smile formed on her lips under the hoodie. “Got it.”
“Good. Now I have to go meet with the council. Wish me luck!”
Miranda reached her bedroom and pulled off her camouflage pants and tank top, throwing them on the bed. When her bra and underwear came off she groaned with pleasure. The warm shower was the best she’d ever had.
With a sense of renewal, she dressed in black slacks, a white turtle-neck sweater and heels. She hoped the more traditional dress would be one more thing that could placate her father. He hated it when she wore camouflage pants or leggings.
Marsias preferred the more traditional dress of the aristocracy. Those Slayer females usually wore long, flowing gowns and donned faces full of makeup. Miranda had always thought applying makeup an incredible waste of time. And the dresses were just absurd. How in the hell did women maneuver in those things?
The middle-class subjects usually wore more casual outfits such as jeans and sweaters. Only soldiers wore camouflage pants, but she considered herself a soldier so why not wear what she was comfortable in? She usually chose to wear those or soft yoga pants, as they were easy to move in.
Today would be different, though. She needed to ingratiate her father to her in any way possible. Too stubborn to don a dress, the slacks and heels were at least more acceptable to him than her usual attire.
After running her hand over the case that held the Blade, she locked it in the large safe that sat in her bottom drawer. She’d had it installed centuries ago when a staff member had absconded with some of her mother’s jewelry. Resolved, she set off to the conference room to confront the council.
The various council members, all men, were milling around the room as she entered. They ranged in age from two centuries all the way back to before the Awakening. One of the younger members, Aron, approached her.
“Miranda, we hear that you have freed the Blade of Pestilence,” he said, his head lowered so that their conversation could be as private as possible.
“Yes,” she said. She liked Aron immensely and had always felt that he wished to end the fighting as much as she did. “A page has turned. It’s time for me to fulfill my destiny and kill Crimeous.”
“And the Vampyres?”
“Their king was very kind to me on our journey. He wishes to find a way to end the raids. We finally have a chance to change things.”
Aron squeezed her forearm, offering her his alliance. “I support you, Miranda. Many of us do. Know that your allies are strong in our belief that it is time you rule our kingdom.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Your support means more to me than you know.”
“Order! Order!” One of the men called and Miranda took her seat at the table, at her father’s right hand.
King Marsias spoke to the group of twelve once they all had been seated. “As you can see, my daughter is home safely.” He gazed down at her, eyes cold and angry, causing her to shiver. She had rarely seen him so furious.
“She has freed the Blade of Pestilence and wants to fulfill the prophecy to kill our great enemy Crimeous.”
“Hear, hear!” came the response of a few of the men.
“However,” Marsias said, standing to his full height, “I have decided to take a different course. Miranda will marry Kalil and produce an heir. Since that child will have the blood of Valktor, he will be the one to kill Crimeous once he has been trained.”
Silence blanketed the room. Clenching her fists together, Miranda had to mentally restrain herself from standing up and punching her father. How dare he?
“King Marsias,” Aron said, standing at the other end of the table, “your plan is wise but I would like to offer another. As the current descendent of Valktor, I believe that Miranda should be the one to attack Crimeous.”
Murmurs of agreement and descent echoed throughout the chamber.
“Your suggestion is noted, Aron,” her father said, “but we cannot send our remaining descendent of Valktor, a female no less, to fight the Dark Lord. It would be the end of his line and once deceased, there would be no hope of fulfilling the prophecy.”
No longer able to stomach everyone discussing her as if she wasn’t there, Miranda stood. “Enough,” she said, training her angry gaze on her father. “This female is sitting right here and can speak for herself.” Looking to the council, she addressed them. “I understand the concern about sending me to kill Crimeous. However, the time has come to take a new path forward for our people. I will not wait another century to attack him. By then his army will be more powerful and we will have lost countless soldiers. I have the chance to prevent that and I won’t squander it. As the descendant of Valktor, you either support me or you don’t.”
“Miranda just returned and is quite tired,” her father said, rubbing her upper arm. Placating her. She hated it when people placated her.
“Enough, Father,” she said, pushing his arm from her, drawing a gasp from several of the council members. “I won’t have this division between us anymore. I have let you rule for ten centuries unchallenged. I am the rightful heir to this kingdom and I’ll be damned if I let you, or any man, dictate what I can and can’t do.”
Turning, she fully addressed the table. “I am the granddaughter of Valktor, first and beloved father and king of our great people. Your loyalty should lie with me. If it does not, then you are no longer welcome on this council.”
“Miranda,” her father said, his expression shocked. “We should discuss this in private—”
“It has been discussed between us for centuries, Father. I’
m tired of talking. Now is the time for action.” Turning, she addressed the men. “I propose a council vote. Either I am allowed to attack Crimeous or I marry Kalil and produce an heir. I am confident that all of you will make the right choice.”
Hushed voices swirled through the room as the men bent their heads toward each other and discussed. Finally, Aron lifted his head. “I second the vote.”
Miranda nodded to him, thanking him with her gaze.
“This is absurd,” Marsias said, his disgust evident.
“This is ruling, Father. We are a kingdom full of competent people and should not be run like a dictatorship. I have let this go on long enough.” She looked at the member sitting to her father’s left. “Runit, please cast your vote. We will go around the table.”
Miranda’s heart pounded as each member cast their vote, hoping that she hadn’t misjudged the amount of supporters in the room.
“It’s a tie,” Marsias said, giving a humorless laugh. “Even our council members are divided on this plan. We must take more time to strategize, Miranda. I won’t have our people break into civil war because you’ve finally decided you want to play queen for a day.”
What a pompous asshole her father was. Fury surged up her spine and she thought seriously for several seconds about slapping the condescending expression right off his face.
Thankfully, Kenden spoke from the doorway. “In the event of a tie on council committee votes, the army commander is allowed to cast a vote. And I vote for Miranda’s plan.”
Miranda’s heart swelled in her chest. “Then we have all the votes,” she said firmly, looking up at her father and daring him to challenge her again in front of the men. “Seven to six, I move forward with my plan. There is no time to waste. I would like a battalion assigned to me.”
“Miranda,” her father said, “let’s discuss this further in my study.”
“The discussion is over and the votes have been cast.” Addressing the men, she asked, “Do you all recognize the validity of this vote?”
They all responded with an “aye,” some more supportive than others.
“Then it shall be. Kenden, please prepare a battalion of your best men so that we can begin to train. Thank you all for your support. I hope that I can begin a new path for our people.”
The council members rose and several of them approached her to shake her hand and offer support. Many of them also advanced toward Marsias, whispering words of dissent in his ear. Miranda wasn’t naive enough to believe that the traditionalists’ minds could be changed so quickly. But she was sure that killing Crimeous was the first step in the right direction.
Finally, she was left in the large room, alone with her father. She called to him softly, not wanting to argue.
“What you did today was reckless, Miranda,” he said, disappointment swimming in his eyes. “You have a responsibility as the last descendent of Valktor. If you get killed we all will be lost.”
“Would you care because your daughter would be dead, or only because I am Valktor’s blood?”
“That is a ridiculous question,” he said, anger in his voice.
“Is it?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry that it has to be this way between us. I want your approval but I want to save our people more. Perhaps one day you will come to understand this.”
“I won’t live in a world where my daughter is a soldier, sympathetic to Vampyres.” Miranda opened her mouth to argue but he rushed on. “Kenden told me about the banked blood he delivered while you were on your journey. It is unacceptable. They are our greatest enemy, Miranda, whether their king helped you unearth the Blade or not. I won’t give that murderer another drop.”
Miranda studied him, the lines of his face seeming more pronounced with his hatred. “You would fight forever if you could,” she said, sadness lacing her voice. “Your revulsion runs so deep that you would lock our people in a prison of war before choosing to let go of your anger. That is truly sad, Father.”
“That is strength, Miranda. You would do well to remember this.”
Shaking her head, she regarded him. “Did he write to you? The Vampyre king? Asking you to negotiate a way to end the war centuries ago?”
With a humorless laugh, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Did he tell you this? And you believed him? My god, what a perfect way to sow dissent between us. It’s a sad day when you believe the Vampyre king over your own father.”
“I didn’t believe him,” she said, realizing that she was lying. After her father’s behavior today she was firmly convinced that Sathan had sent the letters. Not wanting to escalate their argument even further, she continued. “I told him that there was no way he could’ve sent you those letters without you informing me. As the descendent of Valktor and the princess, it was your duty.”
“Then we are wasting time discussing it,” he said, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “Tread lightly, Miranda. There are many who do not like the path you took today. The council members will spread the word and many of them support my plan and my rule. I have been a noble ruler to our people and tried my best to do what is right. If you’re not careful, you will cause a civil war.”
“My goal is to end wars, not start them. Although we disagree, we can find a way to work together, Father. We always have. Please have faith in me.”
He swallowed thickly and she thought that his eyes grew a bit glassy. “I had faith in your mother. You look so much like her. She was also strong and brave. And reckless. That recklessness got her abducted and eventually killed.”
“Father—”
“I have work to do,” he said, clearing his throat of the emotion sitting there. “I will see you for dinner.”
Brushing past her, he exited the room.
Miranda exhaled a large breath she realized she had been holding in during their tense exchange. Civil war? Good lord, she hoped not. Surely her father would come around and support her, especially now that she had the vote of the council.
Doubt gnawed at her but she dismissed it. He would come around. Of that she was sure.
Miranda headed back to her room, anxious to start training with her battalion. She changed into her training clothes—camouflage pants and a tank—and remembered the weaponry case sitting in her safe. Walking over, she retrieved it, unlocked it and lifted the top.
Then she let out a huge curse.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed the Vampyre.
* * * *
Sathan’s phone rang. Checking it, he saw it was an unidentified number. “Hello?” he said into the phone.
“You son of a bitch.”
By the goddess, he was actually happy to hear her voice. “Miranda—”
“You and your asshole brother must be laughing your heads off that you pulled one over on me. Well, great job. Now how do I get it back? I’ve got a Deamon to kill.”
“I wanted to have some negotiating power so that you would continue to bank blood, if only for a short time until we can attempt to figure out a truce.”
“Truces don’t usually start with one side being a bold-faced liar.”
Smiling, he decided he had missed her. “Fair enough. I’m sorry. Now, let’s move on and discuss next steps. Did you confront your father about my letters?”
“Yes. He denied he ever received them.”
“He’s lying.”
“Well, that sounds really reassuring coming from the bastard who stole my Blade!”
“I’m sorry about the Blade, Miranda. Truly. I have a peace offering of sorts. Let me offer twenty of my soldiers to help you when you attack Crimeous.”
“Twenty of your spies, you mean.”
“Your cause is noble. I want to help, if you’ll let me. You know our soldiers have ten times the strength of yours. It can be our first attempt at working together.”
“Absolutely not. My father would have a conniption if he knew I was even communicating with you. I plan to attack Crimeous in two and a half weeks’ time, under the light of the full moon. Save
this number. You’d better have the Blade back to me by then.”
“I’ll return it the night before the full moon. At our meeting place outside the wall. I expect you to keep supplying banked blood nightly until then. Otherwise, we have no choice but to raid your compound.”
“Fine. But you listen to me, you blood-sucking bastard, you’d better honor your word. Otherwise, I’ll kill you myself.”
He chuckled and swore he could hear her teeth grinding through the phone. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The line went dead. His little Slayer was mad as a hornet. Would she be that passionate in bed? Damn, but he’d sure love to find out.
* * * *
Miranda went to the meadow behind the barracks to meet her battalion. Kenden was already there, as she knew he would be. Sometimes she wondered if her tireless cousin ever slept.
“I figure we can get two good hours in before it gets dark.”
Kenden nodded, turning toward the men. “Soldiers, as you know we have a special mission for you. Our princess has decided to fulfill her destiny and attack the Deamon Lord Crimeous.” The warriors broke into cheers. “I have trained her well in combat but she needs to bond with you all as your leader and commander. Listen to her as you would me. We’ll start with combat drills. She will come around and spar with each of you one-on-one to assess your advantages. You have been selected because you are the best and we thank you for your service.” That elicited another raucous cheer from the men and they began to pair off to spar under the waning light of the blue-grey sky.
“Thank you, Ken,” she said, fighting off tears at his unending support. That wouldn’t be warrior-like at all. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
From behind, they heard a commotion. Miranda’s head snapped and a sense of foreboding snaked up her spine. It took her only a moment to realize that she was being ambushed. By a battalion of her own troops.
Soldiers dressed in brown and gold, the colors of her father’s house, surged from the barracks, weapons in hand. The battalion of soldiers that Kenden had assigned her, dressed in their camouflage training gear, roared in retaliation.
The End of Hatred Page 16