He’d lost men today. He’d woken across the world in a city he once called home and found himself tied to a Black Witch and sharing a kindred.
And he’d lost men on a reconnaissance mission. All within a twenty-four hour period.
Alain Dupont was having a very bad day.
But at least he was no longer Dark.
I sent my Light out to soothe him. Nothing invasive. Just a touch to let him know I cared. His eyes met mine, and he let out a breath of air. And then he pushed through the door, leading into the building proper, setting the pace and facing whatever danger came at us head first.
Even now he carried out his role to his master. Protecting his sire’s children to the end.
I had misjudged Alain. But I also wasn’t sure we really knew him. He was powerful. Now doubly so, but he was hiding that side of himself well. And he was trapped. Did my father know?
Had offering me as Alain’s kindred been a way to contain the vampire a little longer? Knowing that in the end, I would go with a Mhachkay and never join with his spymaster. Had it given Papa some much-needed time to breathe? But what had my father used that time for exactly?
To make me stronger? To prepare me better? To find a way to let Alain go?
Alain was one of Papa’s first vampires. He didn’t have many left over from his early days. Alain was his oldest son in that regard. They’d been together a very long time. Was it simply a desire to hold onto the familiar? Vampires were notorious for not adapting to the passage of time. But I hadn’t thought my father was one of those.
It was a sad puzzle, a heartbreaking dilemma. I was sure my father had his reasons, and for once in my life, I decided to trust him; to not second guess him.
It was a new approach for me, but I was learning. Growing. I was not the daughter he knew when we last met.
Was he the same father I had left behind?
Alain went through the same rigmarole for the door at the bottom of the stairs that led onto the Iunctio Council’s top floor of the building. There were also no red vines here. And no wards.
“How do you think they did it?” I whispered.
“The Kral’s magic is strong,” Zahra said, her hands fisting.
I felt a well of anger stir in the pit of my stomach. It started to simmer away silently. I let it come to the boil. The Kral had hurt Zahra. Zahra who I didn’t really know but who had started to grow on me. She was strong and fierce. She could handle my flirtatious brother. She could handle his Dark when he’d had it. She was Hakan’s cousin and had helped me when I’d ask it of her.
The Kral would pay for so many things, most of all what he’d done to his niece.
Alain pushed the door open and peered through it. No Mhachkay jumped out to greet us. The coast was clear, but for how long? Surely they were monitoring the hallways. We all slipped through, one after the other, the door closing and disappearing seamlessly into the wall where it hid.
To the naked eye, it was invisible. Unless you knew to look for it, you wouldn’t see it.
We checked the rooms nearest and found them empty. Power throbbed from within the Council chamber itself. Ljósálfar Light, twisted and rotten, crept out to greet me.
“They know we’re here,” I said.
“Yes,” Hakan agreed. Maybe the Mhackay sensed something of their kind, too. It didn’t matter.
The element of surprise was lost. But not entirely.
Georgia would come back with Goran. And, hopefully, with a squadron of Dökkálfa Hyrða at his command. They’d get the ghouls, vampires, shapeshifters, and Norms up here.
I’d opened the door to the public, and I wasn’t the least bit sorry about that.
I started walking. Alain tried to push me behind him. I hissed. He snarled. Hakan hooked him around the neck and pulled him back.
“He thinks Éliane is the firstborn. Let her. She is the strongest of us now.”
“Stronger than you, Mhachkay?” Alain spat.
“Stronger than her father, the Champion. So, yes, stronger than me as well.”
I wasn’t sure what sort of staring match they were having. I didn’t have time to look over my shoulder at them. I pushed open the full-height double doors that barred entrance to the Iunctio Council chamber and walked into a vipers’ nest.
A viper’s nest covered in red, parasitic vines.
17
Damn It
The Iunctio Council chamber is the only part of The Plaza Hotel that has been decorated like an ancient castle. The high ceilings are curved with marble. Columns ring the entire grand space. At centre-front is a stage with a line of twelve chairs facing whoever has the balls to come in here and ask something of the vampire - and all supernatural - leaders.
My father’s chair was the biggest of the bunch.
The floor was covered with marble tiles; the chandeliers were French. Light glinted off fine art; some of the artists' works were thought lost to the annuls of history. But vampires could be sneaky bastards and had just hidden them. Greek sculptures stood spotlit under soft lighting, a grand fireplace welcomed more intimate conversations, but unless you stood in just the right spot, your words would be carried across the dome to the other side of the chamber.
They took that one from St Paul’s Cathedral in London. Mosaics covered the walls, and intricate murals covered the ceilings depicting vampires at battle, vampires feeding, and their kindred. The Iunctio might have been for all supernaturals but it was made up of vampires and ruled by vampires, and they liked to remind everyone of that.
I took in the shadows. The Erbörü standing silent and on guard. I took in the red vines as they wound around the columns and snaked across the floor. I took in the fairies who stood to the side, their eyes glazed over, red puss oozing from their pores, dripping onto the tiles at their feet; sending out little splat-splat-splat sounds that echoed up to the murals.
The Iunctio Council occupied the chairs either side of the Champion's. I saw the Enforcer, my Uncle Gregor. The Ambrosia. My mother, the Prophesied. They were all held securely to their seats by the red, pulsing vines.
On the Champion’s chair sat the Kral, wiping at his teeth with a handkerchief, cleaning away something that looked suspiciously like blood. There were no Norms in here. He hadn’t fed on any of them. My eyes scanned the vampires before me and then landed on my mother.
Her Light thrummed. Just there. Just out of touch. Her eyes met mine. Mine slid down her neck to where two precise fang marks stood out against pale skin.
The marks weren’t my father’s.
That boiling pit of anger almost erupted.
“Where is my father?” I said.
“Come, come, child,” the Kral soothed. “First, let’s have introductions.”
I hadn’t bowed. I hadn’t fisted my hand over my chest. I held the Mhachkay’s King’s stare in a challenge and growled at him. In essence, I flipped him off in the most demeaning way a vampire could.
Then I slipped out a stake and spun it.
The Kral studied me for a moment and then let his gaze wander. He took in Hakan first. There was no love lost between them and if the Kral had thought hiding his animosity for his wayward nephew would give him the advantage later, he dismissed it.
But then, there was no way those two would ever be batting for the same team ever again.
The King took in Zahra next, and the arsehole smirked when she couldn’t suppress a shudder.
I pulled out my second stake and started flipping it nonchalantly.
He moved on to peruse my brother. His eyes lingered on him for quite some time. Could he see the Black? I guessed he could; Lucien wasn’t hiding the smoke in his eyes right then.
The Kral didn’t even bother to assess Alain, and for that, he would suffer. The spymaster had a habit of making himself inconspicuous. He faded into the background whenever he wanted. It gave him an edge. An edge I hoped we could use now.
“This was all you could manage?” he said, amused at our meagre number
s.
“We don’t need more than this to send you back where you belong,” I murmured.
He hissed at me and stood up from the throne. His gait was smooth as he climbed down the steps but I wondered what it cost him.
I didn’t step back. I kept flipping my stakes. Watching him. Watching the shadows. Watching the domed ceiling and those ever creeping vines as they moved closer.
This had to stop. Posturing was a waste of time. But first, I needed to know where my father was.
“Nice dinner?” I asked the Kral.
He blinked at me and then slowly smiled. He also stopped approaching so at least I got something for my trouble.
“Delicious,” he said licking his lips. His fangs were down. I’d take the right one first. Snap it off like a twig. Then smash the pommel of my Svante into the left with as much savagery as I could muster.
“Where’s my father?” I asked again.
He ignored me. I hadn’t expected an answer. I’d just been filling in time while we all assessed the threats and waited for Goran and Georgia to turn up with the cavalry.
“Hakan Iskender Bahar,” the Kral said. “The prodigal son returns to the fold.”
“I am not returned nor am I your son,” Hakan murmured.
“And yet you are here,” the Kral said, throwing out his hands and turning around in a circle to indicate the chamber. “My new base of power. This will serve us much better than a rundown castle in Europe.”
Luc let out a hiss and crouched.
I pretended his lack of control was planned and smirked at the Kral.
Where are you, Papa?
“I could show you the sights,” I said to the King. “Where to get a good bottle of raki. How to avoid rush hour traffic. That sort of thing.”
“How kind, but I have other plans for you, my child.”
If he knew what I thought of being called a child, he would have known he was playing with fire. But I didn’t let him see my upset. The angry pit deep down inside boiled and bubbled until it was almost overflowing.
“Of course,” I said conversationally. “I’d try to stake you whenever you let your guard down.”
“I never let my guard down.”
“Even when you feed?”
“Especially then. Know you nothing of vampyre?”
“I know more than you think, old man. And sooner or later you will let your guard down. Know you nothing of Nosferatin?” I shot back.
“You are feisty,” he said. “Hakan has not broken you in yet. Good.”
“Maybe I broke him in instead,” I offered.
A few sniggers sounded out in the dim corners of the room. I let out my Light and touched on Mhachkay. They weren’t infected yet, but they were held in the Kral’s thrall. I checked and found every single Mhachkay in the building, bar Hakan and Zahra, enthralled by the Kral.
Their Erbörü familiars consequently enthralled as well.
That’s how he did it. He enthralled them. I didn’t know how he actually managed that, but I did know breaking that thrall would break their binds. Would they be like Zahra then? Would they have their own minds and be reasoned with? Would they respect Hakan and think him the true King of the Mhachkay?
I hadn’t had a crash course in Mhachkay politics yet. I didn’t know how the crown was passed from one to the other. I only knew what Zahra had shown me; what the ribbons had shown me of Zahra and the Kral.
She’d been defiant but trapped. And those Mhachkay she’d passed in the dining hall to reach him had been respectful and desirous in equal measures. But not once had they been like the Kral.
Papa? I said silently, sending my thoughts out into the world.
He didn’t answer.
I had to face facts. My father was either near death or in a position where if I acted he’d die anyway and if I didn’t act, he’d be killed afterwards. The Kral was holding him to ransom for my acquiescence. He expected me to behave because my father’s eternal life was at stake. Papa’s death meant Mama’s death. If I allowed one of them to die, I’d lose the other.
I looked at my mother. A soft smile appeared on her lips. The look she gave me was one full of pride. And love. So much love. She knew I’d come to a decision.
And she trusted I’d made the right one.
I am the daughter of the Champion. The daughter of the Prophesied. I am the goddaughter of the Enforcer and of the Ambrosia. I was raised by the Iunctio. I am entwined with a Mhachkay. I am half vampyre.
And I am also half Nosferatin.
“Enough!” I said, and my voice boomed. The chandeliers tinkled, the walls trembled, the floor rumbled. I stomped my foot and made the entire building shudder.
The Kral looked at me as if I had grown two heads.
I pulled it all to me. I pulled on every single bit of Light and Sanguis Vitam and uncorrupted power I could find. I skimmed over the red vines. I skirted the foul-smelling fairies. But everything else in the building was fair game, and I hunted.
I took a step toward the King.
“I AM THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHAMPION,” I growled. “THE DAUGHTER OF THE PROPHESIED.” One more step. “THE GODDAUGHTER OF THE AMBROSIA.” The walls shuddered. “THE GODDAUGHTER OF THE ENFORCER.” The ceiling started to crack. “I AM ENTWINED TO A MHACHKAY.”
Power built. The red vines trembled. The air buzzed with the force of my will. That pit of anger deep down inside bubbled over.
“I AM KAFINEFENDI TO THE TRUE KRAL,” I shouted. “ENOUGH!”
I’d kept advancing on the King while I’d shaken the building’s foundations. Shaken his foundations too, I thought smugly. I felt my well spill over. I felt the power I’d pulled to me flow out. Too much. More than I could handle.
I thought I was about to burst apart.
Then Hakan’s hand was on my shoulder. A soft squeeze; a barely-there form of encouragement. But I still battled to control the power that raged inside me; it built and built, and kept climbing higher.
Lucien appeared at my other side, haloed in Black, not Light. He looked frightening. He looked tremendous. So familiar and so alien. His hand landed on my free shoulder, and he offered me a fang-filled smile.
But still, the power built inside. I didn’t know how to turn it off. It was like a tap I’d spun, and now it was stuck in the on position and water was thundering through the pipes and had nowhere to go but out.
“WHERE IS MY FATHER?” my voice boomed.
The Kral stood before me, a mockery of a King. He shook his head, opened his mouth and no words came out.
I dreaded to think what I looked like. Was Lucien the normal looking twin now or was I? I think we’d swapped somehow. I wanted to swap back, but that seemed cruel to me. Why should Lucien be the only one to suffer?
I swallowed. I made a coughing sound. Something got caught in my throat.
Papa! I screamed inside my head.
Power swelled.
“Let it go, hayatim,” Hakan murmured beside me. “Choose your target and let it go.”
He was giving me permission; permission to kill the Kral. His King. His uncle. A madman.
I’m not sure what it said about me that I didn’t listen. That I’m stubborn? That I’m stupid?
Or that I’m my father’s child?
I let the power go, seeking out my sire, flowing down that connection he’d never fully severed. The threads that Zahra had spoken of; loosely held but not cut yet; waiting for me to call him back again.
Papa, I called. Come back to me.
Light blossomed beside the Kral and then in the next heartbeat Michel Durand, the Champion of the Iunctio, stood beside the Mhachkay King; magenta washing the room before him, the Kral’s Kilij sword somehow already in his hand; the silver shining brightly as it arced through the room directly toward his head.
The Mhachkay King’s body twisted one way, and his skull flew off in the opposite direction in a macabre acrobatic display that seemed too gruesome even for in here. But then I remembered what the fucker h
ad done to Zahra.
The room seemed unnaturally silent. The world slowed enough for me to see dust motes float softly through the air. The thud-thud-thud of heartbeats echoed in the ether.
I stepped forward, unsheathed my Svante, reached down and hacked off one fang and then smashed the hilt of the sword into the other. Picking up the pieces, I turned and walked back to Zahra and then dropped them both at her feet.
Sound and movement and air rushed back in to greet me.
Zahra fell to one knee before me, head bowed, hand over chest, tears in her eyes.
Hakan slid down to the marble tiles of the Council chamber and matched her. Then one by one the rest of the Mhachkay and their Erbörü followed suit.
I stood in the centre of the Iunctio Council room and swayed. Power still fizzled and sparked inside me. My cheek kept twitching, and I didn’t think it was a muscle. My eyelids fluttered, and I couldn’t seem to stop them.
Papa stepped forward, rested a hand on my shoulder and washed me in his Sanguis Vitam.
It soothed. It calmed. It wrapped me up in his love and affection. In his pride and joy and just a wee bit of smugness.
Papa always did love it when he was right.
I looked up at him; really looked at him. He let me see inside. Inside his heart and mind, inside his soul. So full of Light. And then the Champion returned, and he surveyed the room with an impartial eye.
A pop of sound and the acrid scent of ozone bursting on the air announced the arrival of the Dökkálfa. And not just any Dökkálfa but Aliath.
“Champion,” he said in greeting and then wrinkled up his nose at the red vines. “Basty,” he snarled.
“Basty?” Hakan said, pushing to his feet again.
Aliath surveyed my Savaşçı. “One of yours I believe,” the Dark King said.
“Basty has been outlawed for millennia.” Hakan stared around at the red vines and grimaced. “No one would dare.” But the former Kral had.
Papa dismissed Hakan’s bristling anger with a swift nod of his head and then stared at Aliath.
The fairy stared back at him.
Blood Enthralled (Blood Enchanted, Book Three): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series Page 16