The Last Vampire Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  “What is that crystal?” Caspian demanded. “Guards, stop him!”

  “Rans, what the hell?” I tried.

  But Rans had already dropped my arm. His fangs tore into the flesh at the base of his thumb, a gout of red erupting in front of my wavering vision. He placed the bloody wound over my mouth, and I made a shocked noise as coppery liquid seeped between my open lips.

  “If you want to get out of here alive, swallow,” he said in a voice too low to be heard by anyone else.

  I’m sure my eyes were bugging out of my head as salty blood coated my tongue. My empty stomach tried to flip over as repulsion at the idea of someone else’s blood in my mouth warred with my body’s survival instincts… and lost. This was liquid, and I had nearly died of thirst. Suddenly, I could sympathize with desperate shipwreck victims who succumbed to the deadly lure of drinking seawater.

  I swallowed.

  “No!” Caspian roared, and vaulted over the long wooden desk he’d been seated behind, sending piles of papers flying in his wake.

  The guards were still hesitating a few steps away. Rans smeared his blood over the mysterious crystal, mixing it with mine. The crystal glowed, turning ruby red. I watched, dumbfounded, as he tossed the thing onto the moss-covered floor and crushed it with a boot heel. The ruby-colored light exploded outward as the crystal shattered. I felt it pass through me like a power surge.

  Caspian slid to a halt at the edge of the dais. Everyone in the chamber seemed to have gone very still all of the sudden. I was still gaping, queasily aware of Rans’ blood smeared across my lips.

  He straightened, addressing his next words to the Magistrate. The female Fae had risen in alarm with the others, but unlike Caspian she’d made no move to approach us.

  “I declare that this woman shares my life-bond,” Rans said, his voice carrying to every corner of the chamber. “Her soul is now tied to mine. Killing her kills me as well.” He lifted his hands as though baring himself to attack. “There you are, then, mates. I’ve made it easy for you. Two for one. Anyone want to have a go?”

  I stared at him. What the… what?

  Nobody moved.

  Eventually, the Magistrate sat down again in slow motion, her green eyes raking over the rest of the Court. The others followed suit, returning to their chairs—all except for Caspian, who still stood poised on the edge of the dais, his chest rising and falling fast.

  His eyes glared daggers at us.

  I swallowed hard, scrubbing at my face and mouth with the back of my hand. Unfortunately, my hand was bloody, too, and all of it was starting to dry on my skin. At least that meant the wounds from Rans’ fangs were already closed over, I supposed. Beneath our feet, the circle of blackened, dying moss and flowers continued to spread slowly outward.

  “No one?” Rans taunted. “Really? Last surviving member of your sworn enemies, barging right into the seat of power on Dhuinne, and none of you want a go at me?”

  A tendon jerked in Caspian’s jaw.

  “If anyone feels like explaining what the hell is going on, that would be freakin’ awesome as far as I’m concerned,” I said.

  The Magistrate didn’t even look at me. Her eyes narrowed, her attention staying firmly on Rans.

  “Your continued survival is mandated within a clause of the peace treaty, vampire,” she said slowly.

  “Yeah, see, I thought it must be something like that,” Rans muttered.

  “The demons have already broken the treaty!” Caspian snarled, gesturing at me. “The proof stands right in front of us!”

  Rans narrowed his eyes. “Oh? Well, it sounds like the peace is over, then. What a terrible pity. I suppose you’d better come down here and stake me through the heart. Just think, Golden Boy—all of your problems solved with a single blow.”

  Somehow, I couldn’t believe that antagonizing the powerful guy who seemed to hate both our guts was that great of a plan—but then again, I was the girl who’d walked into Dhuinne with every expectation that I’d be beheaded for my troubles. So maybe I didn’t have much room to talk.

  “That can be arranged, parasite,” Caspian said.

  I tensed as Rans drew himself up straight and pushed me behind him, but the Magistrate’s voice rang out before Caspian could jump down from the platform.

  “Hold!”

  Caspian stood poised, his fists clenching and unclenching in poorly suppressed rage.

  “Sit down, General,” the Magistrate continued. “This body will not respond to a single criminal act from half a century ago by committing an officially sanctioned treaty violation in open Court.”

  I held my breath, trying rather desperately to drag my wits together and catch up with whatever the fuck was happening around me. I still felt like a wreck, though perhaps not as much of a wreck as I should have been. I had no idea what the Magistrate had done to me with her glowy magic hands, or how long it would last. But—disgusting though it might be—it made a sort of twisted sense that if vampire blood healed human wounds, swallowing it would give your health an even bigger boost than applying it topically.

  Meanwhile, Rans still seemed intent on heckling Caspian into trying to kill both of us.

  “Well, Golden Boy? You heard the lady. What’s it going to be?” he pressed.

  Maybe possessing two X-chromosomes trumped species differences, because the Magistrate sounded like she was even closer to the end of her tether than I was—and at this point, that was saying something.

  “You presume much, vampire,” she said. “Perhaps you would do better to enjoy your strategic victory without attempting to goad members of this Court into violence. You have what you apparently wanted—though I don’t claim to understand your motives. We cannot execute the part-breed now that her life is tied to yours.”

  Caspian was still hanging onto his self-control by a thread, it seemed. A slow smile stretched his features… a smile I really didn’t like.

  “Perhaps not,” he said. “But nothing prevents us from imprisoning the creature here for further study, Magistrate. As long as it doesn’t die, no harm comes to the bloodsucker, and by extension, the treaty.”

  An icy wave of cold shuddered through my body, and I had to stop myself from cringing at the words. Rans’ hand shot out to hold me in place.

  “By all means, try to take her away from me,” he said, biting off the words. “See if you can do it without killing me during the attempt.”

  “Enough!” the Magistrate snapped. “All of this is uncalled for. You may leave here with the part-breed, as long as you do so peacefully… and promptly.”

  Several of the Unseelie shifted in their seats, exchanging unhappy murmurs.

  “I’d love to, thanks,” Rans said. “Now, give the two of us an escort back to the gate to Earth, so none of the guards between here and there get any ideas above their station. Then we’ll be on our way.”

  After the events of the past several minutes, I’d almost forgotten about Albigard’s presence here, but at those words he rose from his seat and made to step toward us. Rans turned at the movement, his body freezing into dangerous stillness.

  “No,” he growled, his eyes flashing murder. “Not you.”

  Albigard paused, green gaze locking with blue for a long moment before he consciously relaxed his spine and shrugged, as though it was nothing to him either way. After a tense few beats while the other Fae in the room looked nervously at each other, wondering if anyone else would step up, the large black cat hopped down from its perch and trotted past us toward the double doors, its tail held high.

  I was already pretty much maxed out when it came to weird, but Rans just muttered, “That works, I suppose,” and headed after the animal, my bloody hand clasped in his.

  I tagged along behind him, trying to decide if this was really happening or not. Was I about to surface from unconsciousness, only to find myself still lying on the hard-packed dirt floor inside the tree-cell? Or had the whole thing been a dream from the start, and I would wake up to find
that I’d drifted off in Tom and Glynda’s bedroom in Chicago?

  I shuddered at the idea that I might still have to face sneaking out of the house, calling Albigard and talking him into helping me after this nightmare. But… that would mean seeing my dad had been a dream, too. It would mean he wasn’t actually damaged. It would mean he hadn’t really talked to me like I was something to be tossed aside and forgotten.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I was losing it, my feet stumbling over nothing as my mind whirled in tighter and tighter circles. Rans pulled me closer to him, tucking me against his body and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

  The double doors were still open after his dramatic entrance earlier. The cat padded past the dumbfounded guards, and we followed right behind. Indeed, the whole place seemed to have come to a crashing halt after the unexpected spectacle in the courtroom, with Fae staring at us like they were afraid Rans might draw a hidden weapon and start randomly hacking away at them.

  Was it an irrational fear? I had absolutely no fucking clue.

  “Portal,” Rans said, once the three of us had exited the building. “She’s too weak to walk back.”

  My fractured attention had been caught by the trail of dead and decomposing vines in our wake, Dhuinne’s magical plant life succumbing to Rans’ undead aura. Or something. Maybe that was why it took me longer than it should have to realize he was talking to the animal, not me.

  “But… it’s just a cat…” I said stupidly—and then swayed on my feet when a neat portal appeared in the air before us. It was maybe four feet tall.

  “Very funny, fur-ball,” Rans said through gritted teeth. He bent nearly double, forcing me to crouch down to match him. “Mind your head, luv.”

  We stepped through awkwardly, only to find ourselves standing in the military encampment on the Dhuinne side of the gate. The cat trotted up to the guards watching over the entrance leading back to Earth and meowed, sounding for all the world like a pet asking to be let outside.

  The guy who looked to be in charge of things glared darkly at Rans, making me wonder what had gone down between them when he first arrived. Beyond the phalanx of unfriendly faces, the gateway flared into life. Darkness lay beyond it, but it was the darkness of Earth—the interior of the mound on the Hill of Tara. A place I’d never thought to see again.

  “One day, there will come a final reckoning, bloodsucker,” the lead guard said in a flat voice.

  “Something else to look forward to,” Rans muttered, leading me through the reluctant gap that formed as the guards made way for us.

  But… wait. This was wrong. I’d come here for one reason and one reason only. The gateway was only a handful of steps away when I set my feet, digging in and halting our forward progress.

  “My father—” I began.

  Rans rounded on me, his expression furious.

  “Your father. And did dear old Dad welcome you with open arms, Zorah?” he demanded. “No, of course he bloody didn’t! Because if he’s here in Dhuinne and he’s still alive, then it means he’s either been collaborating, or he’s already broken!”

  My throat closed up at the memory of Dad’s eyes falling on me.

  Why are you here? I don’t want you here. Go away.

  An injured noise escaped my throat, and I let myself be dragged forward the final few steps and into the gateway. Stepping through it was just as nauseating as I remembered, and when I stumbled out the other side, any benefit I might have been enjoying from vampire blood and Fae magic seemed to have fled.

  I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees while my stomach tried to decide whether or not to expel the single mouthful of blood I’d swallowed. Behind me, the light from the gateway faded, and I knew that if I looked, I would once more see an ancient wall etched with Celtic symbols.

  “Are we safe now?” I asked, swallowing hard to keep my meager stomach contents in place. “Are there Fae guarding this side of the gate, too?”

  “Of course there bloody are,” Rans said, pulling me upright and half-leading, half-supporting me along the length of the subterranean gallery. “And I expect we’re about as safe here as we were back there.”

  A meow came from ahead of us, and I realized that the strange cat was still escorting us. I blinked rapidly as we exited the mound, even the cloudy Irish sky seeming too bright after the darkness inside the old burial mound.

  We weren’t completely alone in the area—what looked like a tour group was gathered next to a collection of standing stones some distance away, listening raptly to the guide as she spoke. A few people at the back of the crowd noticed us, pointing in our direction and leaning their heads together to speak.

  The cat, I realized. They’re looking at the cat.

  Were the tourists actually glamoured Fae? Or the tour guide? I huddled more closely against Rans’ side and tried to focus on putting one leaden foot in front of the other. We walked past a church surrounded by a copse of trees. Just beyond it lay a collection of shops with a small parking lot nestled between the buildings.

  Rans led me to a nondescript silver sedan and opened the driver’s side door, easing me down into the seat. I was confused for a moment about why the hell he thought I was in any condition to drive, but there was no steering wheel on this side. Right. Ireland. The cars were backwards here, like in the UK.

  I hunched sideways in the seat, trying to gather my strength to lift my heavy legs and swing them inside. The cat twined around my ankles, its chest rumbling with a low purr.

  Rans shooed it away. “Yes, yes. You got us here safely. Thanks ever so much. Now do me one last favor and sod off, all right?”

  The creature rumbled a little growl and trotted off, the tip of its tail twitching. It was true that the cat hadn’t made me itch with discomfort the way the Unseelie Fae did, but I still couldn’t help relaxing as the last tangible reminder of Dhuinne and its inhabitants disappeared from view around a corner.

  Rans reached down and lifted my legs into the car, closing the door without a word. He went around to the other side and reached into the back seat, coming up with a plastic shopping bag. After sliding into the right-hand driver’s seat, he set the bag between us, and retrieved car keys from behind the sun visor.

  “Did you eat or drink anything they gave you?” he asked, snapping off the words.

  “No,” I rasped.

  “Good.” He pulled out a plastic bottle of sports drink, a banana, and a bag of greasy potato chips. “Drink that. Eat this. And don’t fucking talk to me right now, because I’m pissed off enough that I might accidentally put the car in a ditch if you do.”

  SIXTEEN

  I SWALLOWED AGAINST the painful dryness of my throat and took the food and drink. My hands were shaking with reaction and weakness, but my desperate thirst—and maybe my horror at the idea of having to ask Rans for help after that last declaration—lent me the strength to twist the cap off the fluorescent blue sports drink.

  I tried to sip slowly, not wanting to turn my queasy stomach the rest of the way against me, but instinct took over when the lukewarm liquid hit my tongue. Before I knew it, I was gulping it down, little rivulets escaping to dribble over my chin and drip on my lap. I fell on the food next, shoving it into my mouth, salty and sweet and not nearly enough to fill the gaping hole left by days of starvation.

  When it was gone, I put the detritus back in the bag and set it in the foot well. Then, I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging tight. My eyes slid to Rans’ profile and away. Eventually, I let my head rest against the window’s cool glass, green hills and trees sliding past my unfocused eyes. My stomach churned, and my mind shied away from all the things I should be thinking about right now.

  I drifted in that uncomfortable state as we drove through Ireland’s rolling rural landscape, thousands of miles away from the place I’d always called home and never expected to see again. Eventually, the car pulled onto a single-lane dirt road, and from there, onto something that could better
be described as a track.

  I slumped boneless in the seat, letting the ruts and potholes jostle me until Rans brought us to a halt in front of a rustic cottage. I stared at the building stupidly, making no move to open the car door and get out as I took in the acres and acres of nothingness surrounding it. Well… almost nothingness. I could see some white blobs in the distance, like little cotton balls. I think they might’ve been sheep.

  Rans’ door opened and closed. He came around to open mine before looking down at me with an unreadable expression. “Do I need to carry you?”

  I scowled. “I can walk, goddamn it.”

  He gave a minute shrug and turned on his heel, heading for the front door of the little house. I watched him retrieve a key from above the lintel and disappear inside.

  And now I had to make good on my little moment of defiance.

  Fuck.

  My entire body felt like it had rusted into immobility during the journey here. How was it that I could have been doing yoga and self-defense training mere days ago, only to feel like this now? Even after drinking and eating, I was still a complete wreck. For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder how much of my weakness was due to starvation and dehydration, and how much was due to the magic Caspian’s goon had used on me. Had they managed to damage me permanently somehow, after all?

  A chill of fresh fear washed over me. What had the Fae done to me in their eagerness to find out what they wanted to know? Would I recover on my own, or would I just… always feel like this from now on?

  Hatred for the blond-haired bastard who’d hurt me followed close on the heels of fear, and it was hatred that gave me the strength to climb out of the car. I tried to slam the sedan’s door, but it didn’t close all the way. I left it as it was, ignoring the way the little gap between the door and the car’s frame mocked me.

  Rans had left the front door of the cottage open, but he hadn’t returned to check on me despite the fact that it was taking me a ridiculously long time to move.

  Good, I thought viciously. I didn’t want him to come back. I was angry and confused and exhausted and in pain. I wanted to crawl into a fucking hole and never crawl back out.