The End of Hatred

by Rebecca Hefner

  “Here,” she said, opening the door to her walk-in closet. “We’ll start with the closet and I’ll look through my drawers.”

  About an hour later, Miranda was set with the three pairs of yoga pants, two sweaters, three t-shirts, two tank tops and some satiny shorts and tank top combination that the woman had insisted were pajamas. They weren’t perfect fits but since she was mainly going to be training on a field with soldiers, she guessed that didn’t really matter.

  “Thank you,” Miranda said, holding the clothes in her arms.

  “Of course,” Lila said, kindness emanating from her every pore. Was this woman real? She seemed devoid of vice or anger. How did one exist in this world and not feel rage at the constant state of war and death?

  “Follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”

  The woman led her past several more closed doors and finally opened one on the right side of the hallway. “This room has light and a balcony that faces east. We can’t use it but Sathan thought you might like to watch the sunrise in the morning after you train. I can’t imagine being a soldier. My parents were diplomats and aristocrats so following tradition was all I was ever trained for. Perhaps you could teach me some of your skills one day.”

  Miranda looked up at her, realizing that she really liked this Vampyre. A stab of guilt ran through her as she remembered that she’d sucked face with her betrothed only days ago. “I would be happy to.”

  “Wonderful. Then I will leave you to rest. My chamber is just down the hall if you need anything.”

  Miranda looked around her room, inspecting the bed, the chest of drawers and the small bathroom with a stand-up shower. Opening the glass door, she walked onto the balcony and inhaled the fresh air. Under the cover of darkness, she allowed herself to finally process where she was. On the retreating side of a civil war. Against her father. Aligned with the Vampyres. Sheltered in their compound. If she took too much time to digest it, she was sure she would drown in an ocean of self-doubt.

  Instead, she changed into Lila’s silken pajamas and allowed herself to sleep.

  * * * *

  The first night of training was grueling. Her soldiers had appeared on the large field in front of their cabins at dusk. Twenty Vampyre soldiers, led by Latimus, arrived shortly thereafter.

  “I will be helping to train the soldiers,” he said. “I expect you to allow me to lead. It will be much more effective—”

  Miranda held up a hand, cutting him off. “If you think I’m stupid enough to deny the greatest general who ever walked the Earth from training my troops, then you’ve gravely underestimated me. I will do anything to improve their skills so that my people can have peace.”

  His mouth opened, as if to speak, and then closed. “Good,” he said finally. “Let’s begin.”

  They trained valiantly throughout the night, under the reflection of the moonlit clouds. Miranda made sure she rotated through the men to spar with each one, confirming her skill to them and ensuring that they understood that she was worthy of their support.

  Latimus stood up on the hill, assessing the men as they trained. Watching Miranda, he was impressed. The tiny Slayer switched from warrior to warrior, each one of them seeming to dwarf her more. Her skill was superb but her cunning was her best weapon. She always seemed to sense her opponent’s move and block the attack, allowing her to thrust her weapon at a vulnerable spot on his body.

  Sathan came to stand beside him. “She is magnificent,” Latimus said, continuing to observe the troops as they sparred. “And tireless. She was born to be a soldier.”

  “She was born to be a queen,” Sathan said, his profile juxtaposed against the darkness. “She has been denied too long. It’s her time.”

  “And what of our time?” Latimus asked. “You’re in such a rush to align with her. Etherya once loved the Slayers more than us. We were an afterthought of her creation. Be careful that you don’t push our people more into the darkness by helping to lift theirs.”

  “It is possible for us both to live in peace.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Latimus spit out the gum he’d been chewing on the grass. “I’m going down. See you at dawn.”

  Chapter 20

  Miranda’s body was battered and bruised by the time the horizon began to turn a reddish yellow. Invigorated, she wished the troops a good morning, happy to see that the main household’s staff had arrived to prepare breakfast for them.

  Bounding back to the house, she went in search of Sathan. Once in the large foyer, she headed down a long hallway. Portraits, ancient and sacred, hung along the walls. Coming to a stop, she regarded one of a beautiful dark-haired woman who favored the Vampyre that had washed up on their riverbank weeks ago. To Miranda, that fateful day seemed like a century ago. How could she have known that so much would change so quickly? The coward in her longed to go back to the days when her head had been buried in the sand and her father ruled the kingdom. But what good would that do her people?

  “That was my mother, Calla,” Sathan said beside her, his baritone shattering her silent thoughts.

  “She was very beautiful. Much like your sister.”

  “Yes, she is the spitting image of her. Something that my sister despises, as it makes me quite overprotective of her.”

  “How so?” Miranda asked.

  “She wants to go to the land of humans to train as a doctor. I’ve forbidden it. She’s an exceptionally talented and smart woman and I wish for her to take her royal duties more seriously. I don’t mind if she travels anywhere in the Vampyre kingdom but I just can’t justify letting her go to the human world. I would never forgive myself if I let her die as I did my mother.”

  What a burden he must have carried as a ten-year old boy, not being able to prevent his mother’s murder. “It wasn’t your fault,” Miranda said, pushing away the insane urge to place her hand in his and squeeze.

  “I know. But it still burns.”

  “Judging by her escape, your sister seems to be pretty tough on her own. Maybe you should just let her protect herself. So far she’s proven more than capable.”

  Tilting his head toward her, he asked, “Have you two been comparing notes? She says the same thing to me almost daily.”

  Miranda smiled. “We women are used to men thinking you have to save us. It’s infuriating. Maybe one day you’ll realize that we’re stronger than you’ve ever dreamed of being.”

  “No doubt,” he said, turning his body to face her fully. “I was watching you train earlier. You’re a capable soldier.”

  “Thank Kenden for that. He’s been training me for centuries. Thank goodness because I’m going to need it now more than ever.” Lifting her chin, she added, “I need to ask you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you still have Slayer prisoners in your dungeon?”

  His expression was wary. “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “Six.”

  Miranda nodded and rubbed her upper arms. “I would like to ask you a favor.”

  “You seem to be racking them up.”

  She shot him a droll look. “I want you to release them. Back to the Slayer compound. We have a physician there who will nurse them back to health. It will show my father that you are willing to change course.”

  His face was impassive, his dark irises boring into hers. “And how would I feed my people?”

  “I will have my forty-eight soldiers bank their blood after training every other morning. Surely that will be enough to sustain your compounds for months.”

  Inhaling deeply, he looked toward the ceiling as he contemplated.

  “Please,” she said softly.

  “Sathan,” he said in his low velvet tone.

  “What?”

  “My name. You’ve never called me by my name. I find that odd. It’s always Vampyre or blood-sucker or asshole.” The corner of his mouth lifted at that. “But never my name. Why?”

  “Yes, I have,” she said.

  “No, yo
u haven’t.” He moved in closer and she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. Her traitorous heart began to pound furiously in her chest.

  “So, what’s the big deal?” she asked, defiant. “I’m sure Miss America says your name all the time between the sheets. Why do you care if I do?”

  Confusion crossed his features. “Lila?” he asked. At her nod he chuckled. “Jealous?”

  A sarcastic laugh jumped from her lungs. “You wish.”

  Moving closer, she swore she felt his body heat. The fabric of his t-shirt grazed the top of her shoulder, bare because of the tank top she wore. “Call me by my name and I’ll release your soldiers from the dungeon.”

  “Blackmail? That seems beneath you.”

  “As you said, what’s the big deal?” Gently, he threaded his fingers through her hair, one large hand on each side of her head. Sliding them back, he cradled her head and tilted it further up toward him.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Sathan,” he said. “Don’t touch me, Sathan.” Damnit, he was mocking her.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Sathan,” he said, his lips curved in a sexy smile. Motherfucker, she was drowning.

  The skin on her face tingled as his breath caressed it. He was moving closer to her, inch by inch.

  She exhaled a gasp when his lips touched hers, feather soft. “Say it.”

  Tiny pants came from her mouth and she was mortified that he could work her body into this kind of frenzy so easily. He clenched his fists in her hair and she moaned, the pinpoints of pain on her scalp arousing. Being a strong woman, she had always dreamed of having a dominant lover. Someone who would declare dominion and relieve her, if only for a few moments, of her need to be in control. Her knees almost buckled beneath her.

  “Say it,” he breathed against her mouth.

  “Sathan,” she whispered, causing him to groan against her lips. Sliding one hand down her back, he gripped the ripe curve of her bottom, lifting her against him. Lost to desire, she lifted her arms around his neck, clutching him. Moving his other hand down, he cupped her and lifted her to straddle him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he slammed her back into the wall beside his mother’s portrait.

  Thick lips consumed hers. Holding nothing back, she slid her tongue into his mouth. Growling, he sucked it deep, tangling it with his, and pushed his erection into the juncture of her thighs. Mouth open, she tilted her head back, allowing him access to her neck.

  Wet lips placed small kisses along the vein of her neck. Then, in a reckless gesture, she felt his fangs scratch along her delicate skin.

  “No,” she said, lowering her head to look into his eyes. “You can’t drink directly from me. You know that. I won’t have my privacy invaded that way.”

  He lowered his forehead to rest on hers, breathless.

  “Put me down.”

  Slowly, he lowered her so that she stood before him. Something akin to hurt swam in his eyes. “I would never drink from your vein without your consent, Miranda. Although I desire you, I would never cross the line like that. No matter how carried away I get. You must believe that.”

  All she knew was that her entire body was shaking and she felt like the floor was about to collapse underneath her. She needed to get her attraction to this Vampyre in check now. Although she was sometimes reckless in other parts of her life, she had never been so with a man. Albeit, she had never desired a man as she did this one. And that made him dangerous.

  Needing space, she conceded. “I believe you,” she said. “Now I’ve given you what you wanted. I want to see my men before they are released.”

  Stepping back from her, he regarded her, his expression sullen. “Go shower and meet me in the dungeon in forty-five minutes. Lila can show you the way.” He turned and stalked away.

  Sighing, Miranda ran her hand through her hair. She didn’t have time for this crap. Muttering to herself, she navigated her way to her chamber.

  * * * *

  Lila stood in the shadows of the hallway, her heart beating rapidly at what she had just seen. Her betrothed had all but devoured the Slayer. Their desire had been undeniable.

  Is that what true passion felt like? She touched her fingers to her lips. Would she ever be kissed by any man in that way? She didn’t know much about the logistics of infatuation, but she knew enough to understand that her betrothed was extremely attracted to Miranda.

  Lila lifted her hand to her chest, a small kernel of fear beginning to grow. She wasn’t jealous. Not being attracted to Sathan herself, that wasn’t something she had ever felt.

  But she was worried. If he continued to desire the Slayer, perhaps he would decide to call off their betrothal. She had trained her whole life to be queen. It was all she knew. What if it was suddenly denied to her after all these years?

  Lost in thought, she returned to her chamber. Perhaps she was blowing this out of proportion. Sathan had always seemed firm in his commitment to bond with her. Yes, she was just being paranoid. Her king would never cast her aside; he was too noble.

  A few minutes later a soft knock sounded on her door. Opening it, she looked down at the gorgeous Slayer. The nagging fear returned.

  Putting on a brave face, she smiled warmly at Miranda and led the way.

  * * * *

  Sathan watched as Lila led Miranda down the steps to the dungeon. When they got to the bottom, Sathan thanked Lila and gave her a broad smile. After she’d returned up the stairs and they were alone, Miranda spoke.

  “Look, I don’t know what kind of Stepford Wives thing you and the Nicole Kidman-ScarJo mash-up lady have, but I don’t want any part of it. It’s inappropriate that you kiss me while your betrothed is completely oblivious.”

  Sathan figured she had a point, but he and Lila had come to an agreement years ago. Still, he didn’t want to hurt her in any way. He had to be careful about allowing his desire for Miranda to surface. It was quite a feat, as he hadn’t been so attracted to a woman in centuries. Maybe longer. Maybe ever.

  “She and I have an arrangement.” She shot him a look, unamused. “It’s not as nefarious as your expression would allow. But you’re right. I owe that to her.” He extended his hand to her and she eyed him suspiciously. “The walkway is narrow and the dungeon is dark. Come on.” Shaking his hand at her, he declared a small victory when she placed her tiny one in his and let him lead her.

  The thin walkway led to the infirmary and he felt a jolt of happiness at her wide smile. Six Slayer soldiers were lying on the hospital beds and he felt as if he was giving her a great gift.

  “Princess,” one of the men called, his voice raspy.

  “I’m here,” she said, approaching the man and grabbing his hand. “It’s going to be okay. We’re sending you home.”

  Sathan observed as she walked to each bed, grasping the hand of each prisoner. Murmuring words of comfort, she soothed them, running her hand over their hair and clutching their hands to her chest. In that moment, he truly understood how deep her love ran for her people. Pride surged in him. A strange emotion to feel, but he felt it nonetheless. He was proud to be her ally.

  “And who do we have here?” Nolan asked, coming to stand beside Sathan.

  “Nolan, this is Miranda, the Slayer princess. Miranda, this is Nolan.”

  Having finished soothing her men, she walked toward them, her expression thoughtful. “You’re human,” she said with wonder.

  “Quite right,” Nolan said, smiling. “I’m also a physician. I have tried my best to keep your soldiers alive so that the Vampyres don’t have to, er, visit you as often.”

  Miranda lifted those curious green eyes to his. “You tried to save our people when they were abducted?”

  “Yes,” Sathan said. His voice sounded gravelly and far away, most likely a result of her heartbroken expression. “I tried my best. It allowed us to space out the raids longer.”

  Lowering her gaze to the floor, a tear slid down her cheek and she batted it away. “My father�
��s stupid suicide decree.”

  “He made it quite difficult to keep your men alive, but we did our best, didn’t we, Sathan?” Nolan said in his always affable tone.

  Sathan nodded, the moment rife with emotion.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at Nolan. He found himself wishing she would look at him that way and then scolded himself for being ridiculous. “I would like to repay you but I don’t know how.”

  “Not necessary, princess. I hear you have a great battle before you. Please let me know if I can help.”

  As she smiled at Nolan, Sathan found himself frustrated at her unwillingness to thank him as she did the doctor. After all, he was the one who employed the damn human. He was the one who was assigning his troops to her. Would it be so terrible for her to gaze up at him with those gorgeous eyes and give him one of her brilliant smiles?

  “Nolan will be helping to bank your soldiers’ blood at sunrise each day. Being human, he can tolerate the sunlight. I’ll leave you to your men. I have work to attend to.”

  Turning, he tracked out of the dungeon, his boot steps angry on the ground.

  Chapter 21

  Sadie stood frozen as her king paced back and forth in front of her. He had been questioning her for almost an hour and she wanted to melt into a puddle and disappear. Unfortunately, the laws of physics prevented that.

  “And you’re sure that there’s nothing else you can tell me?”

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said, swallowing thickly. “I never actually saw Miranda and the Vampyre king together.”

  Marsias scowled, making him look ugly. “I am worried they have aligned together. Can you imagine? My own daughter, the blood of Valktor, aligning with Vampyres? It makes me sick!” He sliced his hand through the air.

  Sadie had been aware of Miranda’s views on Vampyres softening for decades so she kept her mouth shut. Although the princess always spoke of her hatred for Vampyres, she also seemed to understand she would need to negotiate some sort of peace with them to end the wars of her people.