by E. M. Knight
I concentrate my vampire senses, struggling to feel her. But the shield that makes her prison does not allow my senses to penetrate. I am completely blocked off from her.
In a way, I’m glad. I can see half of her face, and while the features can vaguely be recognized as once having belonged to Cassandra, the connection is tenuous. I feel no affinity for the thing in the prison.
I feel only disgust.
“Rebecca,” I call out again. “Come here.”
I feel her approaching slowly, hesitantly. I look over my shoulder at her and am once more floored by her beauty.
The choice between the thing in the sacrificial torrial or the radiant woman walking up to me has never been more clear.
I turn my back on Cassandra’s vile form. “She is not conscious?” I ask.
Rebecca stops a few feet away and shakes her head. “No.”
“She does not know the form she’s in?”
“All she knows is that she is in a very deep sleep,” she answers.
“You’re lying to me.”
“Raul,” she says flatly. “Why would I?”
“To get me to side with you instead of her.”
“What does your heart tell you to do?”
I bark a cruel laugh. “My heart tells me to burn her. But that would inconvenience you.”
“Yes,” she admits. “It would.”
“Can she be restored?” I ask. “Is it even possible?”
Rebecca’s eyes take on a faraway look. “All things are possible,” she says. “The real question is, at what cost?”
Suddenly, she shifts her gaze to me, and her focus is laser sharp. “Her youth might be restored. But her mind will never recover. She will remain in that vegetative state. And I—” her eyes take on an even deeper intensity, “—would be reduced to what I was before, to what Morgan made me.”
I step to her. I reach down and take both her hands.
“Then I will not let that happen,” I vow. “You are much more important to me, and to our coven, than some villager I happened to convert. If the price of your vitality is Cassandra’s life? It’s a no-brainer. The fledgling means nothing to me. However…” I trail off, thinking.
“What?” she asks. She turns her hands over in mine and grips me tightly. “Raul, what is it?”
“Felix might not be so accommodating,” I finish. “Cassandra was something of a pet project for him. I do not know what he intended for her.”
“You have more influence than does Felix,” she says. “Surely, you do.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Simply by virtue of the hierarchy. Not even to mention the Royal Blood.”
“Then you can keep me safe?” she asks, vulnerable.
I look deep into her eyes. “I will keep you safe,” I promise. I gesture behind me. “How secure is the torrial? Is there any weakness? If somebody were to come down here with the intent of destroying it, could they?”
“Only magic can break through the barriers erected,” she replies. “The whole roof collapsed, and Cassandra’s altar remained unaffected. You should know,” she adds, “that Felix can do magic.”
“What?” My attention snaps to her. “Since when?”
“Since always. But his ability is very weak.”
“Felix was the one to send Cassandra to the stronghold in the first place,” I consider. I let my thoughts drift. “Which meant, obviously, that he did it for a purpose. But how much did he know…?”
I shift my attention back to Rebecca. “If I am to protect you, you have to be absolutely honest with me. Understand?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“First question: did Felix know about you? About what you were doing down here?”
“No!” she exclaims, bewildered. “Nobody did!”
“Are you sure?” I press. “I understand if you didn’t come in contact with anybody. But could a vampire have snuck down here without your knowledge and somehow seen what you planned, what you did?”
“No,” she says forcefully. “I took every precaution. Besides which, how many of the Elite—or the Incolam, for that matter—would demean themselves enough to go lurking, willingly, underground? You know as well as I that Morgan kept strict boundaries.”
“Yes,” I agree. “That she did.” A new thought comes to me. “Could Mother have known?”
Rebecca hesitates. “I suppose, given the wards, she might have sensed something…” she shakes her head. “But no. Your Queen was the one this whole endeavor was aimed against. I did all that I could to prevent notice.”
“So there was no overt communications with anybody above ground, nor the chance you were discovered before?”
“None,” she says. “Would a coven vampire really risk the Queen’s wrath by keeping such a discovery from her?”
“I suppose not,” I admit. “So you had no allies. Everything you did, you did on your own.”
“I had my army,” she says coyly, “which Eleira destroyed. Other than that, it was only me.”
“That must have stung,” I quip. She gives me an angry glare.
I laugh.
“You couldn’t have picked a worse time to mount your attack,” I say. “Mother may not have been able to hold the screechers off. Only a few weeks earlier, and you would have succeeded, since Eleira did not yet hold the throne.”
She shifts on her feet. “Where are your loyalties, Raul?” she asks. “If some in The Haven were to hear you speak like that, they may begin to wonder.”
“Let them guess, then,” I tell her brazenly. “Sometimes the most obvious answer is the one closest to the truth.”
I turn away from her and return to the altar. I circle it, considering the intricate carvings on the stone. I kneel down, so the top is eye-level, and dust off a little window to the inside.
I see Cassandra there once more. Cassandra in that horrible, wretched, awful form. Visceral disgust fills me as my eyes take in her body, but I force myself to look and remember.
You are responsible for this, an insidious voice whispers in the back of my mind. You want to now protect Rebecca? Look what your protection is worth!
I surge up, blood pounding. I feel a pressure building in my head, just behind my temples.
Vampires don’t get headaches. But this is dangerously close.
“She can’t be saved,” Rebecca tells me. “Don’t torture yourself over it. She had to be sacrificed to give me form.”
“I understand that,” I growl. I lock eyes with Rebecca. “What I don’t like is the vulnerability it lends you. If this altar, this space, is destroyed…”
“I wouldn’t die,” she tells me. “But I would return to what Morgan made me. I would be hideous.”
A sound of deep displeasure comes from the base of my throat.
I take her hands. “I will do everything I can,” I vow, “to undo this evil curse. Forget Cassandra. She matters not. But I do not want you to be limited like this.”
Her eyes turn sad for a moment. “That’s sweet,” she tells me. “But you are setting yourself up for failure. My soul is gone—fractured, ripped apart, torn into many different pieces. I cannot be alive, like this, without drawing from another.”
“You did this once,” I say. “Surely that means you can do it again. Right?”
“Do what again, Raul?”
“Use somebody like Cassandra again,” I say. “Take another soul and leech it from a body. Hell, we drink human blood. Is this very much different?”
“We are a parasitic species,” she agrees. She mulls over my question. “In answer to what you asked; I don’t know. Cassandra was the perfect target because she was weak, and she had Royal Blood. Royal Blood is key to this, because of who originally severed my soul from my body.”
“Royal blood runs through my veins. I can make new fledglings. Then you can draw from them the same way. If this place is destroyed, if the altar goes up in flames—if Eleira gets angry with you and decides to cut you off from the source by killing Cassandra—y
ou will return to your prior form, but you can restore yourself again. Yes?”
“I suppose so,” she considers. “Let me tell you a secret, Raul. The torrial Cassandra is on only serves to preserve her body in one place for me. It protects her. In theory, we could remove her and take her somewhere else. That would make me vulnerable, but…”
“But it’s better than relying on the mercy of the Queen,” I finish for her.
For a brief moment, my mind splinters. I feel the cognitive dissonance behind speaking directly about opposing Eleira.
But then the darkness inside of me swells up and swallows those weak feelings whole.
Rebecca gasps and pulls back. “Raul,” she whispers. “Your eyes…”
“What?” I bark.
She produces a small hand-held mirror and brings it up to my face. I see my perfection, see the storming black flecks in the whites of my eyes.
A sinister, malicious smile spreads across my lips.
“A gift from Phillip,” I inform her. “Plus, his three new witch fledglings. I like it. Don’t you?”
“I know what it is,” she tells me. “It comes from Blood Magic.”
My smile grows wider. “Afraid not,” I say. “At least, not in my case. I can’t do magic. Never have and never will.”
“Don’t say never,” she whispers. She steps up to me and puts a hand on my arm. She looks into my eyes and whispers, “I can help you harness it, if you wish.”
That offer catches my attention. “How?”
“I’ve never dealt with it directly,” she admits. “But I do know certain things.” Her grip on my arm tightens, and she continues in a feverish tone, “If we were to run away together, we would have all the time we need to learn. And then you could return, more powerful than ever. Or… just stay with me.”
“You are making a lot of dangerous assumptions right now,” I say softly.
“But isn’t that what you implied? You wanted to know if I could replicate what I did with Cassandra. I think, yes. Royal Blood flows through your veins, Raul. We could choose a human victim, convert her, and then I can do the necessary magic. We’d have to be somewhere safe, somewhere we couldn’t be found, but—”
“What makes you think I would turn my back on The Haven?” I growl. “This is my home. I spent my life here.”
“Yes. But were you ever truly alive?” she asks. “I remember the times you came back from long expeditions to the outside world. Each trip revived you, made you into a new man. Or rather—let you become the man you were meant to be, freed from the shadow of the women in your life.”
“What shadow?” I snarl. “What are you talking about?”
“Outside, you were free,” she says. “Here, you were always burdened by responsibilities, first to your Mother, then to your coven. Now to Eleira, your new Queen. You are restricted by these women. I’ve seen you in Eleira’s presence. You hold back. You are not as you are now.”
“How much did you see?” I demand. “A few minutes of conversation, that’s it.” I step away from her and go to the exit. “What could you possibly have gleaned from that?”
“Enough,” she tells me. Her voice takes on a new inflection. “I’ve known a few men like you in my lifetime. Too loyal to their mothers, unable to cut themselves free form that warm childhood safety net. That is…” she sweeps across my body, holding my arm, and gives me a seductive, knowing look “…until they meet the right woman to do it for them.”
There is a nugget of truth to her words, no matter how my ego tries to reject it.
The best I’ve ever felt was on missions out into the world, plundering villages and feasting on the weak.
I’ve long-since kept the satisfaction of those exploits hidden. Now, denying that basic truth about myself feels like a betrayal of who I am.
And the time I met, and rescued, Liana… that was the best time of my life.
“You’re conflicted,” Rebecca notes, her voice becoming soft and soothing. “You know what I say is right. You don’t know how to admit it.”
I look at her.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispers. “You don’t need to admit it. Not as long as I know. Not as long as I can free you from the clutches of your past.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you are doing this out of pure altruism?” I say, my voice layered with sarcasm.
“Of course not,” she sniffs. “You have something I want. And I…” she smiles, “I am something you want.” She runs a hand over my body. “Isn’t that right, Raul?”
I grunt. That dangerous desire is threatening to consume me again.
I push her away.
“Confirm we’re not related,” I say, “and then we’ll talk.”
She laughs, a light, breezy laugh. “Is that all?” she asks. “It’s so simple. Just ask your mother. After all, she’s well on her way to recovery, isn’t she?”
“It appears so,” I whisper under my breath.
“Go up and get her to tell you the truth.” She curls around my body, leaving a scorching path on my skin as she does. “It really is that simple.”
I narrow my eyes, but already, deep down, I know Rebecca’s offer is too tempting to pass up.
And with Eleira in full control of The Haven, what use am I to her, anyway?
Chapter Eight
James
The Crusaders’ Facility.
“How is he?” I ask, striding into the secret sickroom where the recovering vampire is being kept.
Victoria looks up from the screen she’s monitoring. “Getting better. Very, very slowly… but with how much he needs to recover, and how little blood he got, we cannot expect anything more.”
“Good,” I say. I walk up to the bed the old vampire is lying on. I stop at its side, close my eyes, breathe deeply, and shift my concentration to his presence.
He’s there. Definitely, he’s there, somewhere in the midst of the ruined body. I cannot imagine what it must be like for a vampire to be so deprived of nutrition for so long. Neither can I conceive of the slow, laborious recovery process it would take to return to lucidity.
Part of me is tempted to give him more blood. Either my blood, or the blood of the many humans in the ranks of The Crusaders.
But that is just me being impulsive. There is no way to tell this vampire’s ultimate strength, nor how much rage or gratitude he will wake up with, considering all that’s been done.
I double-check the silver restraints keeping his arms and legs in place. They look secure enough to me.
“Any luck with Paul?” Victoria asks.
I grunt and push away. I turn to face her.
“None,” I say. “He’s locked himself in and refuses to come out.”
“That’s a little childish of him,” she says.
“I know. I could use the influence and force him out, but…” I spread my arms, “I think it’s best to give him a day to grieve for his daughter.”
Victoria leaves her desk and comes up to me. She stops just in front of my body.
I put my hands around her lower back and hold her closer to me.
She gazes up into my eyes with a mix of admiration and respect. I don’t know where this will lead, but for now, I’ll allow the romance to flare.
She’s been on the verge of falling for me this whole time, after all. No point turning away a willing woman.
Although I’m well aware of the complications this relationship may cause down the line.
“How are you, James?” she asks finally.
“Fine,” I reply, a bit quickly, a bit too stiffly. “Why?”
“So much is going on,” she says. “You’ve been under a lot of stress.” She traces her finger in a small circle over my chest. “You’ve had no time to relax… no time to take advantage of all your success.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” I tell her. Gently, I push her away. “I know what you want, Victoria. Trust me, I want it, too.” My eyes soften, and I lower my voice. “But this isn�
��t the right time.”
“Hmmph,” she says. “When did you become so serious? There’s nobody around. This seems like the perfect time.”
She looks at me coyly. Then she reaches up to slip the neck of her dress down one shoulder.
“Stop,” I say. “It’s not going to happen. Not now, not with him here.”
I jerk my head back to motion at the vampire.
Victoria starts to pout. “What does he matter? He can’t even hear us. He has no idea where he is. His mind’s been fallow for so long, it’ll take him time to come back to himself, even after his body’s healed.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say softly. “Call me crazy, but something doesn’t feel right about this whole situation.”
Victoria blinks, then, realizing I’m serious, puts her dress back in position. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just a feeling I have,” I tell her. “Like we’re missing something.” I run a hand through my hair. “Dammit, I’m starting to sound like Raul.”
“What could we be missing, James?” she asks. “He’s bound with silver. We’re monitoring his vitals, which will alert us to his wakening. You made sure he only received a minimal amount of blood.”
“Yes, I know, but still,” I emphasize. “I know to listen to my instincts when they’re telling me something is wrong. And they’re doing exactly that right now.”
“Well, okay. What more do you want to do? This room is secure. Nobody is going to interrupt. Let’s say he wakes sooner than expected. He won’t be going anywhere.”
“You’re right,” I say. “Just… keep an eye on him, all right?”
“Fine,” she says, returning to her post by the computer.
I turn to leave. When I’m at the door, Victoria calls my name.
“James?” she says. “I’m proud of you.”
I frown. “For what?”
“You’ve matured,” she says. “The James I knew before would never turn down the offer I made.”
“I just know it’s not a one-time deal,” I say with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes at me.
I wink and exit the room.
I walk at a brisk pace through the halls, coming upon that strange circular room with the many doors. This is where Melvin first showed signs of his insanity.