A Taste of Crimson

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A Taste of Crimson Page 7

by E. M. Knight


  “Then what?” I breathe. A venomous mix of desire and need courses through my body, only enhanced by the darkness Phillip unleashed in me.

  “I want… whatever you want,” she says. She bites her lower lip in anticipation. “Don’t tell me you feel nothing right now.”

  “Even if I did,” I grunt. “You are Mother’s cousin, and—”

  “I already told you that was a lie,” she says.

  “How do I believe you?”

  “You don’t have to believe. You just have to know.”

  And she raises herself up on her tiptoes to very gently, very softly, brush her lips against mine.

  The moment they touch, an explosion of passion takes hold of me. I grab both her arms and push her back, shoving her against the rocky wall. She gasps in feminine delight, but that sound is cut off as I seal my lips over hers in full acceptance of my desire.

  I kiss her hard against the wall. Feeling her body against mine wakes up all sorts of latent feelings—feelings I haven’t felt since Liana.

  Not even Eleira aroused those in me.

  Her hands scratch over my back and tangle in my hair. She pulls me in closer. I run mine over the front of her body, feeling her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, then extend my touch down each arm and link our palms and fingers together. I press them down far on either side of her, making her body all the more accessible to me.

  I am blinded by desire and devoid of any purpose other than pleasure. Rebecca tastes exquisite, and her beauty makes me a slave to my senses. I want to experience her in full, I have to experience her in full—

  “No,” I gasp, and push off. She is left there reeling, at first looking lost, then confused, then spurned and angry.

  “I can’t,” I tell her. I turn away. “I can’t do this. Not when we’re related by blood—”

  She appears in front of me and slaps me. My head whips to the side.

  “Stupid, arrogant man,” she curses. “I told you, that is a fiction. A lie! What did your body tell you, what did you feel, when we were locked in that embrace?”

  “I want you,” I say, my voice hoarse. “But I can’t just undo all the years of conditioning. You came back from the dead. I thought you were gone, and the whole time we knew each other I thought we were family.”

  She hisses in disgust. “How many damn lies did Morgan fill your head with?” she snarls. “I’m telling you we’re not, your own body is telling you we’re not. What more do you need? Damn stubborn fool!”

  I shake my head. “I know, I know,” I mutter. I feel angry with myself for rejecting the desire burning so fiercely inside. “But you don’t know the amount of times Mother tried to seduce me. Me, and Phillip, and James. She has a perverted mind, she’s sick, and doing this reminds me of that too much.”

  “Yet you felt something was wrong in that scenario,” she says. “You feel nothing of the sort now!”

  Her passion, the fire in her voice, the way she is fighting for me only makes me want her more.

  “I have to be sure,” I say firmly. “I have to be sure, sure we’re not related, and then—”

  “And then what?” she demands, crossing her arms in anger. “And then you’ll fuck me?”

  My eyes widen at hearing such language from her.

  “By then, it’ll be too late, Raul,” she says, glaring at me, full of spite. “You’ll have missed your chance. You know what your wonderful new Queen intends to do with me.”

  I feel a flood of relief when I realize that is what she’s talking about.

  “Eleira isn’t cruel,” I assure her. “She let you come down here, unguarded, with me.”

  “What does that prove?” Rebecca asks.

  “If it were Mother in charge, and she knew you’d survived, you would have already been sentenced for execution. Morgan does not like being reminded of her failures. Particularly not on this scale.”

  Rebecca exhales heavily. She brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “In that case,” she says. “I should probably take you where you need to go. To see Cassandra.”

  Chapter Six

  Eleira

  The Haven

  “Walk with me,” I tell Alexander, after the others have left.

  I feel like I want to go somewhere private, somewhere away from everybody else. My apartments are taken. The stronghold is being repaired. The fields around the open areas of The Haven have all been scorched and are devoid of life.

  So, I find my feet taking me into the depths of the forest, the one place I have not yet explored—and probably could not fully explore even if I had months all to myself.

  Alexander walks by my side quietly, showing just the right amount of deference. He keeps step with me, but does not overtake me. He leaves me to my thoughts, and somehow, even though I do not know him, his proximity lends a sense of serenity to me.

  After we’ve wandered past the first rows of trees, and start trekking over fully undeveloped ground, I speak up.

  “So,” I say. “Tell me about your disagreements with your Queen.”

  “Former Queen,” he corrects immediately. “I have no qualms with you.”

  “Don’t hold your breath about that,” I quip, quirking an eyebrow his way. He looks back at me with a bit of a smirk.

  He is actually surprisingly ordinary—especially for a vampire of his strength. He has an unremarkable face, plain eyes, but a strong jaw. He could not be called traditionally handsome, and yet I can feel a certain gravity emanate from him. It does not just come as a byproduct of his vampiric strength. It is something more, something about the way he carries himself, that tells me he is fully at peace with the world and his place in it.

  “I’m sure we will have our disagreements,” he says thoughtfully. “After all, I know very little about you, and you know nothing about me. But what I’ve seen from you so far, if I may say, makes you seem like the perfect Queen to lead The Haven.”

  “And what makes you say that?” I wonder. “Some more cynical than I might call those empty platitudes meant to help you get in your Queen’s good graces.”

  He shakes his head. “I am not after power or influence. I am perfectly happy where I stand. You may take my ideas, or you may leave them, and I would feel no antagonism toward you.”

  “As demonstrated by your prior relationship with Morgan?” I wonder.

  “That’s right. As soon as it became clear to me how far apart we stood on certain issues, I smartened up and kept my mouth shut. I had no problem doing it. I think my ideas are valuable, of course, but I also know my place.”

  “You are strong enough to be on the Royal Court. Why aren’t you?”

  He smirks. “I fail the physiognomy test.”

  I glance at him sideways. “What’s that?”

  “My face.” He moves a hand over it. “I was not deemed beautiful enough by the Queen to share space at the table.”

  “But that’s ridiculous,” I say. “You’re not ugly.”

  He chuckles. “No. But neither am I strikingly beautiful. You know the value Morgan put on such things.”

  I press my lips together. “Yes,” I say. “I do.”

  We walk through a dense row of trees and emerge on the bank of a small creek. I’d heard the gurgling water long ago, but didn’t realize it was so close.

  I walk up to it, kneel down, and dip my hands in. The water is pure and cold.

  I cup a bit of it in my palms and bring it to my lips. I take a sip.

  Almost immediately, I spit it out. “What the hell?” I curse. “That tastes… rancid!”

  Alexander chuckles. “This is the first you’ve tried fresh water as a vampire?” he asks.

  I nod.

  He offers a half-shrug. “Our taste for blood makes water redundant. It is one of the many joys we give up after being made.”

  He dips a finger in the stream. “The purest water in the world,” he murmurs, “and to us, it tastes of filth.” He takes his hand out and shakes it dry. “You
would never have thought that a consequence of receiving the vampire gift. I am sorry you had to learn of it with me at your side, my Queen. You do not realize how much you love something until it’s gone.”

  I try to dispel the uncomfortable feeling that’s come over me. Not being able to drink fresh water? I had never considered such a thing.

  “Anyway,” i say, stepping over the stream. “Let’s keep going. I’d like to know what faults you saw in how Morgan ran things. I do not want to repeat her mistakes.”

  “I do not even think you are capable of them,” he tells me. “Not after the character you’ve already displayed.”

  “Tell me what Morgan did wrong.”

  “Morgan had too much pride,” he says. “Too much vanity. She embraced everything that made her special, as she should have, but she attributed extra meaning to it. She thought because she was strongest, she always knew best. She thought because she knew magic, she would forever be a level beyond the rest of us. Ultimately, that hubris was her very downfall, when she lost her battle with you.”

  I catch what I think is an additional implication in his words. “You think she should have never brought me here,” I say. “Don’t you?”

  He sounds a small laugh. “Very perceptive. You’re right. I did not think bringing in a human girl, and one so young, from the outside, to take over power was a wise move. Prophecy or not. As you might guess now, that was our biggest disagreement. I also objected to the creation of The Convicted. I thought it was a cruel, unnecessary punishment. The vampires who truly broke our laws should have been put to death, not made to linger in that horrible state for ages under the earth. The ones who committed less serious crimes could have been kept prisoner for the right amount of time. But in neither case should they have been given the same sentence.”

  “So, you are against the severing of a soul from the body.”

  He scoffs. “There is nothing to talk about there,” he says firmly.

  I take it I’d struck a nerve.

  I try to take the conversation in a more palatable direction. “So, you were against the Queen bringing me here. What about now? Are you against it still?”

  “Look at me,” he says. “I’m here beside you, speaking to you as a loyal subject. Of course, I am no longer against it.”

  “So you accept me as your Queen?”

  He snorts in derision. “Is that a serious question? Of course, I do.”

  “What about the others,” I ask. “You’ve lived among these vampires for three centuries. You have a better pulse on things than I do. Do the other vampires also talk about me as their Queen?”

  “Certainly,” he says. “And if any had any doubts, you erased all of those when you created the wards. And, once again, when you destroyed the Tentoria”

  He stops and looks at me seriously. I find my feet being rooted in place by his eyes.

  Powerful eyes, I think.

  “You are obviously the best choice for our coven. I was against a newcomer being brought in, because I knew Morgan would try to steal that power. Despite my disagreements with how she ran things, The Haven was and is my home. I wanted to see it safe. I wanted to see it flourish. You were an unknown when you arrived, and you were faceless before. Truth be told, we absolutely lucked out that we got someone like you. The succession would have been a disaster were you anybody else.”

  I feel my cheeks heating up at the run-on compliments. I rip my eyes away from his before he can notice and walk quickly, deeper into the woods.

  “Are there many vampires here like you?” I walk around absently. “Do you have friends who share your views, among the others?”

  “Few in the Elite,” he says. “More of the Incolam. If I’m to be honest” he mumbles, “—too many of the Elite took their cues from Morgan. They became obsessed with their own vanity and started to believe they really were different—better—than the rest.” He grunts. “I respect the hierarchy, my Queen, but it—”

  “Eleira,” I say. “You may call me Eleira.”

  “All right,” he says. “I respect the hierarchy, Eleira, but I am well aware of its limitations. Just because a vampire is stronger does not make him smarter. It does not make him wiser, or more righteous, or anything else. If anything, the hierarchy saps the drive to improve from the Elite—they are content maintaining and satiating in the status quo. Then it becomes a limitation of ours, not a strength. If the best ideas are not heard and considered, no matter the source, how can we progress?”

  He looks around. “And thus, you see what we get. Stagnation. A halting of real progress. I’m not complaining about the way things are. I am just saying that Morgan missed so many opportunities to make them better. She was too stingy about making new vampires—even though we’ve had some absolutely brilliant humans among the villagers. Had they been turned, they would have benefited The Haven greatly. There was so much waste of good talent under her rule. I’m glad you will not be making the same mistake: your initiative to Phillip proves you already wiser than her.”

  “And you claim you’re not trying to butter me up,” I say slyly, giving him a sideways glance.

  He holds eye contact for half-a-second longer than appropriate. I feel a spark of electricity between us.

  We both look away at the same time.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what,” I say quickly, not wanting to dwell on that strange, unexpected feeling. “I am going to call a gathering of the Royal Court in a few days, as I said earlier. But the Court is one thing. I also want a Council. A Council of vampires most suited to advise me. I want you to pick the first crop of candidates. I care nothing about their strength or their beauty. I want vampires with the best ideas, the brightest minds—and those who will not be intimidated to speak their minds to their Queen.”

  Alexander considers the proposal. “I think I can put together a group like that.”

  “Good. Go do it. The Royal Court is one thing, and I do not mean to dissolve it. But the vampires who are part of it are holdovers from Morgan’s regime. They will remain, but only for ceremonial purposes. I want to pick the vampires who are meant to advise me.”

  “Understood,” he says.

  “I want the most capable vampires,” I stress, “And that’s it. The only thing that matters is merit. I don’t care about strength. I don’t care about gender. I don’t care about diversity. Those are just lies meant to muddy the waters of achievement. There will be none of that in The Haven, not now, not ever.”

  “An excellent decision, my Queen,” he says. “And one I greatly respect.”

  Chapter Seven

  Raul

  Beneath The Haven

  Rebecca stops at the edge of a protruding rock platform and points down.

  “See that opening?” she asks. “Cassandra is in there.”

  “All right,” I say. “How do we get there?”

  There is not a clear path from here, and the drop down to the bottom is very, very long.

  “I’ll take you, of course,” she says sweetly, “but you have to promise me one thing.”

  “I don’t have time for games.”

  “It’s not a game. I just want you to promise you won’t judge what she is going through based on her physical appearance.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “When you see Cassandra, naturally, you will think she is in very bad shape. What you have to realize, however, is the body you’ll see before you does not necessitate any suffering of the mind. She is, in fact, completely oblivious to her state. She exists as a being on the very cusp of consciousness… but always a step too far. I am not cruel either, Raul, not like your Mother was. I had to use a vampire with Royal Blood flowing through her to be able to undo the spell that was cast on me—but it does not mean I make her suffer unnecessarily. In fact, Cassandra is as much at peace now as she can ever be.”

  “That’s an awfully long disclaimer,” I mutter. “Fine, I agree to your terms. Now take me there.”

  She
smiles oh-so-sweetly and touches my arm. “I knew you would.”

  I follow her through many intersecting passages in the walls. After a time, we reach the proper level.

  Rebecca and I approach the entrance in step with each other. She peels off just a few feet away. “You should go in by yourself,” she says. “I’ll be waiting here.”

  I grunt, but don’t offer any objection. “Don’t you dare try to run,” I say. “Remember that I can sense you and track you.”

  She smirks. “If you think me that foolish…”

  “All right.”

  I walk up to the entrance, turn the corner, and step inside.

  The first thing that grips me is all the destruction I see.

  It looks like the roof has collapsed. All the rocks and debris lie scattered around. There also seems to have been a battle here.

  I pick up the old scent of spilled blood.

  I try to ignore it as much as I can as I pick my way to the centerpiece of the room—a raised slab of altar, coated in dust, impossible to see through because of it.

  I walk to it cautiously, careful not to disturb the wreckage.

  I reach it. I put out one hand to touch it—then instinctively jerk away.

  Something does not feel right.

  “Rebecca! I call out. My instincts are going haywire. “This had better not be a trap.”

  “It’s not,” she tells me from afar. Her sweet voice echoes through the room. “Your Queen sent you here, remember? It was not me. If you don’t trust Eleira, who can you trust?”

  “She makes a good point,” I mutter under my breath, and move to swipe the layer of dust off.

  My hand touches a strange and impenetrable surface. It’s not glass; it does not have the coolness of glass. It is made entirely by magic, as Eleira said.

  And thus, it is completely foreign to me.

  I wait a few moments. When nothing happens, I quickly sweep the rest of the debris off.

  My breath catches when I see the woman underneath.

  Or rather—a woman who once was. Now, this wretched creature is nothing but skin and bones, decrepit, weak, and badly aged.

 

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