Ivy Cross and the Monarch of Darkness (Dark Inquisitor Series Book 1)

by A. D. Winter

  The guard frowned as he saw me. “Is she with you?”

  The merchant turned to study me, his brow pinched in concern, unable to recognize me. I held his gaze, my heart pounding as I feared the worst.

  But then something happened.

  His eyes lowered to my shirt and tight pants, and whatever shock he had was quickly replaced by a look of proud satisfaction. “Why, yes,” he said. “She is.”

  The guardsman stood aside and gestured for us to enter.

  Inside, the celebration was amazing. Food. Drinks. Laughter. It was truly the stuff of legend. Servers dressed in white shirts and black slacks moved about the room, serving flutes of Elven Sparkle to the richest and most powerful citizens of Salvation. Tiny sandwiches and hors d’oeuvres were passed around on elegant porcelain plates.

  From the main hall came the symphonic sounds of stringed instruments, and I saw an entire orchestra dressed in eighteenth-century garb, playing one of Mozart’s greatest symphonies.

  All around me, beautiful women and dignified men stood with their heads held high, smiling and laughing as they spoke politely about the night’s festivities.

  The merchant, the one I was still latched onto, appeared to be a shipping magnate of some kind. He was stopped every few feet by some dignitary or politician thanking him for his service.

  It was weird. I’d never been to such an event, and before I knew it, I was overcome by the electricity in the air.

  Still, I was there for one reason, and one reason only: to stop the Monarch.

  I narrowed my eyes as I searched the room. The vampires were here somewhere. I knew it. Yet everywhere I looked, I saw only regular guests. It was as if the vampires had magically receded from view.

  “By Zeus’s long thunderbolt, you are absolutely stunning.”

  I glanced up at the large merchant and realized that he was staring at my skimpy top. I yanked up the silk material and looked away, frowning. “Thanks.”

  His face was round and oily, and his hair was dark and thinning. By his accent, I guessed he was from the Ancient East, across the channel.

  “A rose among roses,” he continued.

  “Wow,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re a real Shakespeare.”

  “What can I say? I’m a romantic. But I don’t think we’ve met before. Pardon my rudeness. Lord Onassis.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I watched as the shadow of a figure turned into one of the hallways and glided up a set of stairs.

  “Perhaps you’d like a drink,” he suggested.

  “Please.”

  He took a glass of Elven Sparkle from one of the servers and handed it to me. I tossed it back like a troll after a long day at the docks and handed it back to him—“Thanks”—then quickly set off after the figure.

  “Amazing,” I heard him say behind me.

  I pushed through the crowd with a forced smile until I reached the stairs. Inside, it was dark, and the pulse-racing beats of industrial music were vibrating through the walls.

  What’s this?

  I made my way up the darkened stairway, catching the hint of jasmine and shoving my way past a couple wearing carnival masks. They glanced at me in silence, and I got a strange feeling that I was going somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, I was met by a pair of chosen, who quickly halted me in my tracks. Dressed in black suits and black turtlenecks, they were some of the biggest chosen I’d ever seen. I glanced at their waists and made out a pair of blades hiding underneath their jackets.

  “Can I help you?” asked the heavier one.

  “Sure,” I said, craning my neck to get a better view inside. “Is this where the party’s at?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?” I asked.

  “On whether you have an invitation or not.”

  I looked around, glancing nervously at the figures in the foreground. They all had one thing in common: they were wearing masks. Which meant that the invitations weren’t paper but clearly something else.

  “I lost my mask,” I said.

  “Where’d you lose it?” asked the other bouncer.

  “Downstairs,” I said. “Lord Onassis lost it when we got frisky on the way over here.”

  “You’re with Lord Onassis?” asked the heavier bouncer dubiously.

  “Fresh from the Ancient East,” I replied.

  The two exchanged a glance, as if deciding what to do, and I noticed that their hands fell to their weapons.

  It was in those dreadful seconds, just as I was expecting to be caught, that the bigger one unhooked the rope, and stood aside.

  “Enjoy the night’s festivities,” he said with a creepy grin.

  “I’ll do my best,” I replied.

  Inside, it was like an edgy nightclub. Black leather booths lined the walls, while magical blue lights, reminiscent of the neon bulbs from the human world, pulsed along the ceiling, illuminating the crowd of tall figures moving on the dance floor.

  Everyone was dressed in black—some even in latex—and all of them were wearing masks.

  On all the tables were sensuously designed hookahs, which couples used to smoke dragon’s weed, while bottles of Elven Sparkle sat chilled in buckets of ice.

  It was a far cry from the festivities below, a polite gala of elderly statesmen. Here, it was as if I were in a pleasure pit in Hades.

  I wandered through the crowd of masked strangers, listening to an industrial version of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” by the Beatles, and felt myself being drawn down a psychedelic hole of danger.

  Figures turned as I walked by them, stepping back and examining my face through the ominous slits of their masks. They were definitely shady, and I quickly lowered my head, my hand reaching for the dagger hiding in my belt.

  The vampires were here. I could feel it, their red eyes peering at me through the darkness. But where?

  I shifted my gaze as I felt something.

  What was that?

  Oh, yes, there, standing in the corner of the room, a bruiser with a thick jaw. He was keeping an eye on the room, watching the masked figures writhing on the dance floor.

  He turned in my direction.

  I looked away.

  “Ivy?”

  I spun around to find a tall figure in a black robe, his face concealed behind the mask of a griffin. He gripped me by the arm and led me away, pulling me toward the edge of the stage in the back.

  I didn’t know who he was or what he was doing, but I didn’t want to react. The vampires were watching us from the corners, and any movement could attract their attention. It wasn’t until he removed his mask that I was surprised to find the face of a friend.

  “Igama?”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  I lowered my head, hoping that his enthusiasm would go unnoticed by the vampires.

  It didn’t.

  They began to pull away from the walls, closing in around us from the sides.

  I pulled Igama away, drawing him even closer to the stage.

  “What are you doing?” Igama asked. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re in danger,” I told him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Monarch,” I said. “It’s here.”

  Igama’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “The vial,” I said. “I did what you told me. I went to the Forgotten Quarter and had it checked out. You won’t believe what I found. This thing goes farther than you can imagine. Even Grand Duke François is involved.”

  “The Grand Duke?” Igama’s jaw fell open.

  “It goes higher than that,” I said. “Igama, the Monarch has people working in the Order, maybe even in the Council. I can’t prove it. Not yet. But I think they’re going to release the possession charm. Here. Tonight.”

  Igama’s face grew stern. “How?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the part I’m still trying to figure out.”

&n
bsp; Igama glanced around at the crowd. “We must go before it’s too late. It’s not safe for you here.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I said.

  “But the Order,” Igama said. “If they find you …”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I have to stop the Monarch.”

  Our attention was suddenly drawn as the music came to a halt. The entrance was shut off, and all around me, the figures began to take off their masks, revealing a sight that made me shiver.

  Elves.

  They were everywhere. They glared at the stage with expectant eyes, their slim faces spreading into malicious grins as the curtains were drawn back and a sticklike figure took to the stage.

  The warlock.

  He appeared as frightening as before. Sewn-up eyes. Face as scarred as decaying plaster. He stood before the crowd with a rotting grin and gave a dramatic bow.

  “Welcome,” he said. “And thank you for coming.”

  The elves applauded his appearance by tapping their glasses, and I was suddenly thrust into a world of confusion.

  “What is this?” I asked, turning to Igama. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, appearing just as bewildered as I was. “But I suspect that we’re in store for some type of show.”

  The warlock quieted the crowd with a raised hand. “This is a precious moment, one that we have been awaiting for a very long time, and as much as I’d love for the festivities to begin, there is still one last thing we must do.

  “We must first pay homage to our host, without whose splendid efforts this crowning achievement would never have been possible.

  “So, without further ado, allow me to present … the Monarch.”

  I felt my heart soar into my throat as I saw a hooded figure appearing from the side. It glided out toward the center of the stage, as if moving on the wind, and the very air of the room seemed to chill.

  When it finally came to a halt, it parted its robe, and I saw an hourglass figure wrapped in a black corset.

  A female?

  I studied the lace fabric around her waist, the delicate knots and beautiful craftsmanship. It boasted of style and, more importantly, money.

  Yet as stunning as her torso appeared, it wasn’t enough to make up for the horrific sight that had been hidden until now.

  Beneath that crisp red robe, spread out like a clawed hand, were a set of long spider legs. They tapped restlessly against the stage, as if they had sensed a fly that had been caught in a web and they couldn’t wait to suck its blood.

  I gasped, face twisted in disgust. But Igama steadied me from behind, keeping me from stumbling back in horror.

  Yet as frightening as all this was, it was nothing compared to what I saw next.

  The Monarch drew back its hood, and there, standing before me, was a ghost from my past.

  “No,” I whispered. “It can’t be.”

  35

  Ivy

  Greta Adams.

  The ex-headmistress of my old orphanage, and the author of my misery.

  There she stood, in her cruel beauty, basking in the applause of the crowd. And in that moment, I was dwarfed by the frightening memory of my childhood.

  How?

  How was this possible?

  How was she standing there?

  I blinked in astonishment, thrust back to that crisp winter day in the morgue, when I’d been forced to identify her body. She’d been so pale then, so still, a corpse lying on a metal slab. Yet now, over a decade later, here she was, alive.

  Impossible …

  I shook the fear from my mind as I steadied myself. Whatever dark deal she’d made to survive wouldn’t protect her from my vengeance. Not now. Not anymore.

  I was already stepping forward, ready to leap onto the stage, when I felt something sharp at my side. I looked down and saw a white glove holding a dagger at my waist.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Igama’s voice cracked with emotion. “I didn’t want you to get involved.”

  “Igama, what are you doing?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  I looked into his eyes and saw a look of shame. “It was you, wasn’t it?” I asked in disbelief. “The warlock didn’t create that potion. You did.”

  “Our world has reached its limit, Ivy, and the fae have done unconscionable things. Things you couldn’t even fathom.” He brushed back my hair, granting me a look of pity. “Now we must turn to drastic measures to save ourselves.”

  “But I don’t understand,” I said. “How could you have betrayed us? How could you have betrayed me?”

  “I’m doing this for you,” he said. “For all the chosen of Salvation. Unless we break with the fae, neither you nor I will ever be free. The fact that you’re not even aware of what is going on is proof of their treachery.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Ivy. But this is the only way.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Igama? The man who’d taken me under his wing when I’d joined the Order? I stared at him, heart slowly breaking. “But it was you who sent me on this case in the first place,” I said. “You returned the vial and told me to search the Forgotten Quarter.”

  I waited for his reply. But I knew the answer. “You thought I would fail.”

  “I’m sorry, Ivy. But you’ve never been a good inquisitor. In fact, you’re probably the worst in the department. Still, I cared enough for you that I couldn’t let you be executed. Instead, I wanted you to get away. Perhaps find a different life, a place where you could hide until the truth was finally revealed and things could change.

  “Unfortunately, you’ve proved yourself a better inquisitor than I gave you credit for.” He wrenched the dagger from my belt. “And now you have to die because of it.”

  I scolded him with my gaze. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

  “I understand,” he said. “But this is the price we must pay for freedom.”

  I turned as I heard a woman’s voice.

  Greta was addressing the crowd, her arms outstretched in welcome. “Thank you for coming. It is truly an honor to share this night with you, for we have sacrificed so much to be here today, to rally against a system of lies that have failed us and a council that doesn’t listen.”

  Nods of agreement broke out amongst the crowd, accompanied by another round of applause.

  “But alas …” Greta shook her head, disheartened. “All great journeys must come to an end, and sadly, as much as it pains me, that time is now.”

  She nodded at the vampires standing along the walls, and they stepped forward. “For not everyone was meant to hear the Song of Woe.”

  The elves began to look around, confused by the vampires, who were closing in around them. They had clearly not expected this, and they began to panic.

  I saw a beautiful elf in a sparkling gown exchange a glance with her husband, backing away as a tall vampire with a long blade marched toward them.

  He quickly swung his blade, separating her head from her shoulders, then turned his sights on her husband, who quickly fell to his knees in a blubbering mess.

  The fool.

  He would not be spared, nor would he reap the benefits of his treachery. He, just like the rest of them, had made a deal with the devil, and as such, would suffer its consequences to the fullest.

  The vampire swung his blade, and the elf was sliced in half, his torso tumbling to the floor like a severed log.

  “Go now, my children!” Greta ordered. “Begin the cleansing.”

  The vampires followed her orders with vigor. They tugged back the hoods of their cloaks and quickly swarmed their victims. They slashed at their bodies with claws, tore them apart with their teeth, and when they were on the verge of death, drank away the last bit of their lives with curling tongues.

  This was what these creatures were: not the reformed survivors who the Council of Light believed deserved a second chance—but monsters.

  Beside me, Igama began to grow nervous.

 
; His gaze shifted about the room, and he licked his lips, as if realizing his mistake. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” he muttered in fear. “She promised me. She promised us all that everyone would be spared.”

  I stared at him, realizing the truth. Greta had manipulated him with her lies, perhaps even seduced him as well. And now he was face-to-face with her betrayal.

  Another fool.

  But what could be said for their mistakes? Only I knew what a snake Greta was. Only I knew what cruel and merciless acts she was capable of. But as I’d proved at a young age, I was capable of them as well.

  I snatched the dagger from Igama’s hand and shoved him behind me. “Stay close,” I ordered.

  “Ivy, please, I’m sorry.”

  “Shut up,” I told him.

  A vampire charged at us from the right. He was fast, with long, curved teeth. He probably thought I’d be an easy kill. But he was wrong. I spin-thrust kicked him in the stomach, using all of my force, and he flew through the air, crashing against the wall of mirrors behind him.

  I looked around, searching for an exit. Nothing. We were trapped.

  The vampire came back, slashing at me with his claws. But I retaliated with my dagger, slicing at his face and stabbing him through his palm.

  He hissed in pain, and I took the opportunity to snap his knee. He fell to the floor with a terrible cry, and I followed up with a punch through his chest, ripping out his heart. His body suddenly exploded, and the room was filled with embers.

  Unfortunately, my success drew attention.

  The other vampires began to turn around. They stared at me with blood-covered mouths, their eyes filled with bloodlust, and I felt the fear of death encroaching around me.

  The monsters fell on us in waves, attacking me from all sides. I did my best to fight them back, cracking a nose here, breaking an arm there, but without a magical weapon, it was useless.

  I was spun around as one of the vampires slashed at my face, and I fell to the side, tripping to the floor and leaving Igama completely defenseless.

  He shuffled back in fear, announcing his loyalty to the Thorns. “But I’m one of you! Can’t you see that?”