by F. E. Heaton
She gave them a moment to let it sink in. There were quiet murmurs throughout the room but she didn't silence them. It was best to let them voice their concerns to the people around them, to their friends and lovers. What she was asking of them was no small task, and many of them wouldn't come back.
"It is time that we joined as one to defeat this witch,” she said with confidence, eyeing the people at the front of the group.
She drew her sword and held it high, willing her hands not to tremble like they wanted to. She swallowed and told herself that she could do this. Valentine believed in her. She had to do what was right, no matter how great the sacrifice.
She closed her eyes.
She was strong enough to do this.
Reopening them, she looked out across the room.
"We will destroy her!” she said, and called the magic to her right hand, showing her army the power she commanded so they believed in her like Valentine and her friends did. “She will fall under our might!"
There was silence.
And then a chill ran through her when they roared as one.
"To war!"
Chapter 25
Valentine walked wearily back into the castle. He threw a growl at any zombies he passed out of a need to keep up appearances rather than any real annoyance. They hadn't done anything to bother him. It didn't even give him any satisfaction when the odd one actually reacted. Usually the only ones who did were the commanders, those a little more human and conscious. There were more of them now. Elena was preparing herself.
The zombies lined the corridors, milling around and occasionally groaning when they bumped into each other. There were so many of them. They reached out towards him, blood and saliva coating their chins as they looked at him with hollow eyes. He growled with a little more heart whenever they got too close and they backed away again. He wondered how Prophecy stood a chance against this number of flesh-hungry zombies. They'd tear the vampires to pieces.
His attention drifted while he thought about Prophecy. Leaving her at her mother's house had been the hardest thing to do, and he'd done it with a heavy heart, so heavy it felt like lead in his chest. She'd been beautiful when he'd awoken, lying in his arms like an angel, her face peaceful with sleep and the comfort he gave her. He could feel it in her, feel the contentment and the happiness. He'd watched her sleep for almost an hour, lost in absorbing just how much she meant to him and how it felt to be so intimately connected to her, given the honour of being able to feel her feelings like no other could.
He hoped that connection would help her in this fight, would give her the strength she needed to do what was necessary. He hoped that if she knew he loved her, if she had this small time of being mated to him, that she wouldn't hesitate in killing him if she had to. He'd told her she could. She could kill him if it meant ending this and seeing her safe.
Another zombie tried to take hold of him and he grabbed its head, smashing it into the wall and smiling grimly when its skull exploded under the pressure. He wiped his dirty hand on a passing zombie commander and smirked when it looked upset. Upset? Like it could ever feel such an emotion. It was just a mindless minion for Elena to command, a puppet, a corpse. It wasn't the person it had once been, not even if it had a shadow of a memory of that life.
The closer he got to where Elena was at the centre of the castle, the more he lost control over himself. By the time he reached her, he was almost completely under her command again. He pushed the old wooden doors open and noticed that this time she didn't bother to hide what she was doing.
She turned to him with a wide, wicked smile. Leaving the papers littering the table, she walked across the room and ran her fingers down his chest. It stung, pain twisting inside of him and stealing away what little control he'd retained.
"Is she dead?"
He shook his head.
"I knew you wouldn't kill her,” she said without the slightest hint of disappointment.
In fact, she sounded positively pleased.
He frowned.
"But you did tell her where I was?"
He swallowed. She grinned and patted his cheek.
"There's a good boy. You work best as a lure. I knew Ophelia wouldn't be stupid enough to leave her house unprotected. The only chance of success you had was if Prophecy had been outside, but she's a clever girl ... she'd have more chance of escape by remaining inside the house.” Elena continued to smile, slowly stroking his cheek and staring deep into his eyes with a look that unnerved him.
She looked proud that he'd unwittingly done exactly what she'd wanted him to.
He smiled.
Her brows met in a confused frown and she eyed him closely, scrutinising him.
His smile widened when he realised it was unsettling her. She stepped back, looking him over as her frown intensified.
"Why are you looking at me like that?” The tremble in her voice surprised him. He'd expected her to unleash her power on him to make him docile again, but instead she was looking increasingly flustered.
He grinned, revealing the sharp points of his fangs as his eyes switched to blue.
"Tell me!” She raised her hands.
Cold washed through him, a freezing wave that threatened to steal all control away again. He fought to retain it, holding on but slipping out of his vampire guise as a compromise. He didn't need it to make him feel stronger.
"You will tell me.” She growled the words and stepped up to him again, her eyes dark and deadly. She smiled. “If you won't tell me ... I know someone who can get it out of you."
She snapped her fingers and his attention was immediately with the door that opened. His eyes widened and all confidence drained from him when he watched the two women enter. They both smiled at him seductively, fluttering their lashes and luring him silently to them. He resisted, struggling to believe what he was seeing.
"He's holding back something. I don't have time for his games and I want to know what it is,” Elena said and turned to one of the women. “Lucya, tame your child."
Lucya grinned at him, her fangs showing.
Valentine stepped back instinctively, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of what was happening. At Prophecy's mansion it had been Elena pretending to be Lucya, but it couldn't be Elena now. He watched the witch walk out of the door, leaving him alone with Indigo and Lucya.
Sniffing the air, he caught their familiar scents on it and frowned harder.
"I felt you go,” he said, confusion and the recollection of how it had felt making his voice quaver the tiniest amount.
The weakness consuming him was overwhelming. The sight of her muddled his feelings, sending all thoughts of Prophecy away. He looked deep into Lucya's eyes, searching them, and cursed himself when he realised she was trying to control him again. He couldn't battle against both Elena's power over him and Lucya's. It was too much. But he had to fight them. Prophecy would be coming here and he couldn't let Elena discover what had him so confident.
Lucya laughed, her hand coming up to daintily hide her mouth. He growled at her and took another step back, hoping the distance would lessen her power.
"It is truly amazing how easy it was to make you believe that,” she said in a honeyed voice.
Her laugh tinkled, echoing around the room. It grated on his last nerve and made his fists clench in frustration. He shut out the thoughts she was trying to put into his head and roared.
Silence swept through the room like an icy chill, stealing away her laughter and leaving her standing before him with a flicker of fear in her eyes. She shut it down.
He smirked at her when he saw that she was giving him the same look Elena had. She was trying to figure him out.
Indigo stepped forwards but he ignored her, keeping his focus wholly on his sire. The younger Aurorea wasn't a threat to him. Only his sire was strong enough to fight him. Or was she?
Is that why she was scared? It wasn't what she didn't know; it was the fact that he was stronger than her now. He too
k hold of that idea, using it to give him the strength and hope he needed. If he could make Lucya frightened of him, if he could show her just how far beyond her control he was now, she would be easy to defeat.
It was her confidence that gave her the power she had, and he could rob her of that.
"You must know we will get this little secret out of you, no matter what means we have to resort to,” Lucya said with a seductive glint in her eyes.
He told himself she'd like that and laughed at the idea that she honestly believed he'd ever let her touch him again.
"How was your dirty little bitch?” Indigo said in a venomous tone. “Still favouring filth like her over your own blood? We'll get it out of you and then we'll watch Elena kill Prophecy. I hear she's got wonderful plans, all kinds of horrible spells to tear your whore apart. She'll—"
Valentine cut her off by running at her and slashing his claws across her neck. Her sentence ended in strangled, bubbling sound as blood filled her mouth and throat. She clutched at it and tried to back away, her eyes wide and darting about desperately. They stopped and fixed on something. It must have been Lucya.
Indigo was a fool if she thought Lucya would raise a finger to help her. His sire only helped herself.
He grabbed Indigo's arm and yanked it away from her, exposing her throat. Blood gushed down the front of her bodice, cascading from the wounds on her neck. He closed his fingers around her throat and brought his other hand up. He looked straight into her eyes, holding her petrified gaze, letting her see what was coming and why he was doing this, and then snapped her head clean off. Flicking the blood from his fingers as her body dropped to the floor, he turned towards Lucya.
She swallowed hard and shook her head when he began to advance on her.
Her eyes dropped to his neck and widened. She looked back into his, disbelief and hurt filling them, replacing the fear. A chill ran through him. She knew. She'd sensed the marks on him like only a sire could.
She went to turn towards the door that Elena had left through, but he didn't give her the chance to run and tell her mistress what she'd discovered. Elena couldn't know.
Catching Lucya with a solid kick to her chest, he knocked her to the floor. She scrambled backwards, shaking her head the whole time as though that would stop him from killing her. She was already dead. He froze a moment, wondering if it would hurt him again to kill her.
Pain blazed across his shoulder and he growled when he threw Lucya off him. He glanced at the bite wound. She'd torn his jacket and shirt to expose his shoulder, but she hadn't caused any substantial damage to himself. He growled as he went after her. She tried to evade him as he lunged, but he easily caught her. She wriggled in his arms. The chilling presence of Elena filled the room and his bones, and he didn't stop to think about whether this would hurt him or not. He needed to give Prophecy this chance, regardless of any pain it would cause him.
Biting down hard on Lucya's neck, he drank her blood in great gulps. It spilled from the corners of his mouth whenever she struggled, her fingers desperately pushing against him and her legs flailing when he lifted her off the floor. She kicked him, growling with effort, but her strength soon began to fade. When she was drained of almost all her blood, he held her at arms length, letting her see him one last time, letting her know just how powerful he'd become in their years apart.
Letting her witness the strength Prophecy had given him.
Twisting her head off, he tossed her body to one side and waited for the pain to come.
Nothing happened.
He looked across the room at Elena, seeing her pale face and dark eyes drained of confidence.
He grinned and the remaining blood in his mouth oozed down his chin.
Elena folded her arms and walked towards him. She looked at both of the bodies and then at him.
"This changes my plans a little, but one vampire is easier to control than three, and it was a stunning display to watch.” She gave him a seductive look, her fingers moving to toy with a strand of her hair, twirling it around her finger.
He growled, not appreciating her attention.
"Come,” she said and cold crept back into his veins, stealing away his control. She motioned to his chest. “Clean yourself up."
He obediently took his jacket and shirt off. He used the shirt to wipe his mouth clean while Elena raked her eyes over his body.
When he went to put his jacket back on, she shook her head and raised her hand, stopping him.
"You look perfect just as you are. We have a guest arriving soon."
He frowned.
She smiled unpleasantly.
"I am sure she'll want to see you like that one more time before she dies."
* * * *
Prophecy walked through the quiet inn. It looked as though the humans had left it in a hurry. On the rickety wooden tables were unfinished meals and half-full mugs of ale. The water in the kitchen was still running, spilling over the edge of the basin. She shut it off on her way past. Upstairs in the innkeeper's family's quarters, the wardrobes and drawers had been ransacked. Clothes were missing, as well as some personal objects. There were clean marks on the dusty surfaces, ghosts of where pictures had been.
The relief that she'd seen in Piotr's eyes had gone straight to her heart. Whoever it was that he loved here, they were safe. Or at least it appeared that way. She knew Venturi wasn't convinced. Her gaze strayed to the ceiling and she reached out with her senses, trying to find him. He'd been distant all the way here, not talking to her. Then again, he hadn't talked to anyone, except Piotr. She'd spent the flight sitting across the aisle from them, trying to focus on what Serenity and Cornelius were telling her while her attention was constantly with Venturi. She'd told Mia and Dmitri to find their own way here so he wouldn't feel as though he wasn't allowed to talk to her. She wished she'd asked them to come now.
Concentrating on the outside world, she closed her eyes and tried to sense whether it was night or day. It was neither of course, but she wanted to get a feel for the time and there were no clocks in this inn. Time obviously didn't matter much here. They probably lived from dawn to dusk, a simple life of chores and getting food and supplies. Now they had a war on their doorstep.
Piotr walked in and shook his coat off as he forced a smile in her direction.
"No sign of the villagers then?” she said.
He shook his head, a sombre look surfacing briefly in his eyes. “We tracked their scent into the forest, up over the ridge. It was hard in the rain, but we managed. There were no vampire scents in the vicinity, or demon."
She wanted to mention that Elena was mostly using zombies, which would most likely have a human scent, but he looked so relieved that she didn't want to make him worry again.
She clumsily patted his shoulder and then removed her hand when he looked down at it with a confused expression. She smiled awkwardly. He was right, they hadn't really known each other long enough for her to be behaving like this.
Her eyes went to the ceiling again.
She sighed.
"Pretty marks you wear,” Piotr said with an amused note in his voice and a glint in his dark eyes. “Odd for a girl in love with two men."
She glared at him. “What did he tell you?"
"My lord?” He almost laughed. “He tells me nothing of you two. He pretends as badly as you do, always acting as though there is no feeling for you, even when his eyes are always drawn to you and your presence renders him a weakling."
"I'm not in love with him.” She turned away.
A chair scraped on the floor and Piotr sighed in contentment.
"How many times have you told yourself that? How many times have you looked at him and tried your hardest to convince yourself that you don't have these feelings for him?"
She turned sharply. “There are no feelings. I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with Valentine."
He smirked. “Fine. Maybe you're not in love with him, but you do love him."
She kept tel
ling herself that she should just walk away, but she couldn't. Piotr was right. She'd told herself countless times that she didn't have feelings for Venturi but she'd never managed to convince herself. Looking at it from this angle, she could see that she'd been a fool all along. If you didn't have feelings for someone, you didn't need to attempt to convince yourself. You just didn't have feelings for them.
"You're in love with the man who claimed you?"
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she thought about Valentine.
"And there is a place in your heart for Venturi, too?"
She paused for a moment and then nodded slightly.
"It's not so unusual,” Piotr said, standing. “I've spent too long telling myself those same things. I couldn't have feelings for two people. I love my sire, and I don't mean the usual child love. I love her, and she loves me. But ... I am in love with..."
He sounded as though he was struggling so she raised her head and smiled at him.
"The girl, yes? The barmaid?” she said.
He nodded.
"She is pretty. I saw her when ... well ... it's probably not wise to mention it.” She walked away from him when his eyes lowered to the floor and a look of sorrow flitted across his face. He needed some time alone to come to terms with his own feelings, while she had to face hers, and her destiny.
Heading up the stairs, she used her senses to track down Venturi. She pushed a door open and found him sitting on the edge of the double bed. It was the room that her, Valentine, Mia and Dmitri had been in the night before they'd attacked his bloodline's home. Did he know that? She sniffed, trying to see if she could still smell Valentine in the room.
All she could smell was Venturi.
Closing the door, she padded quietly across the room to him. He was staring out of the window at the strange halo in the sky. It shimmered and shone, casting an eerie glow on a silent world.
Sitting down beside him, she stared at it too. The more she looked at it, the more she could feel the magic in her veins as it flowed between the marks on her body. She glanced down at Venturi's left hand where it was resting on his knee and placed hers over it. He tensed a little, but said nothing.