by E. M. Knight
I come to a stop at the last line of trees before the ensemble of cabins. Four of them in total. Peak tourist season has passed, so they are all empty—except for one.
The groundskeeper’s home.
I motion for my vampires to gather round me. I have to direct my influence at Sylvia and April and Liana in order to get them to comply. The scent of the lone human in our vicinity has their attention shifting.
“The man inside,” I say softly, “could be more use to us alive than dead. Cierra’s lair is close by. We could interrogate him about what he knows.”
“Are you suggesting sparing him?” April says, suddenly haughty. “What happened to—”
“Quiet,” I bark, cutting her off. “I’m not going to abide your protestations. Victoria, I want to know what you think.”
“Finally, you smartened up enough to make use of my intellect,” she murmurs. “You’re right, the man can help lead us to the lair—”
“I know where Cierra’s lair is.”
My eyes shoot to Sylvia, who’s suddenly spoken.
“Do you, now?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes. I’ve been here before. I remember this place.” She gives a sudden shiver. “I remember the first witch who ventured into Cierra’s domain and how that journey destroyed her mind.”
“Hmm,” I say.
“James, we’ve only got minutes before sunrise,” Victoria reminds me. “The weaker vampires will want to be inside.”
“Right,” I grunt. “And the human?”
“Let him live, for now,” Victoria says. “We’ve all fed. We’re all satiated.”
Not quite, I think.
I haven’t been willing to admit this, not even to myself, but as soon as my fledglings had their most recent fill of blood, I felt my powers… drain away.
It wasn’t significant, mind you. At first I consoled myself by saying that I was being paranoid, imagining things where none exist thanks to Victoria’s unwanted warning.
But over the last few hours I’ve become more and more certain that I was imagining nothing. I do feel weaker. Only slightly so, but still…
“We can’t risk him waking to find us and raising an alarm,” I bluff. “Victoria, you take everyone and get them into the darkest room possible. Maybe one of these cottages has a basement. I don’t know. But it is there you will spend the day.”
“And what about you?” Liana wonders.
“I think, if nothing more, I’ve earned the right to feed,” I tell her with a wink. “I’m going to take care of the proprietor. Besides, don’t you worry: the sun doesn’t bother me much.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Raul
The Haven
I race into the stronghold only to find the halls eerily empty.
I can’t help but be afraid. Not for myself, certainly not, but for Eleira, and the succession, and the strange, bizarre experience I had outside.
The hound, the moon, the parchment. All of them are connected, and all of them have to do with whatever Mother is planning tonight.
I run at breakneck speed to the assembly hall where the humans are kept. I blaze past the guards, who offer no protest when they see who I am.
I rip through the doors. My loud entrance startles some. The torches surrounding their gathering lend a gloomy atmosphere to the room. I wish we could give them electricity.
When the humans recognize me in the dim light, murmurs of “Raul” and “The Prince” begin making the rounds through them. Some of the more intrepid villagers step forth.
“Have you brought news?” one asks.
“I need to find Eleira,” I answer. “Has she been here?”
“We haven’t seen her since she left with you,” he answers.
I curse under my breath. Just as I turn to leave, a voice stops me.
“Wait,” I woman says. “We’ve been locked here for hours. We have no idea what’s going on. Please—are we ever going to go home?”
Slowly, I rotate my body to face her. The earnestness in her speech catches me completely by surprise.
“Home?” I ask. “You mean the village.”
“Yes,” she nods. “Nobody’s told us what’s became of it. After the attacks… after we lost so many in the fight…” she looks to be on the verge of tears. “Please. Raul. We have to know. What’s going to happen to us?”
For the first time I look at her—really look at her, her and all the other humans—and see them for what they are.
Frightened, fragile beings. Caught in the gaping mass of something much larger than themselves. What do they know of civilization, of modern technology, of the real nature of the world?
Nothing. They know nothing, and that saddens me. For the first time I see them not only as beings to be pitied, but also as creatures who are… worth more.
Worth more than the life we’ve given them. Worth more than the cruel conditions we keep them in. They are the proverbial prisoner’s in Plato’s cave. Their entire conception of the world is what we give them.
And all they know is that tiny, pathetic, medieval village where Mother allows them to roam. The one that I set fire to, what seems like centuries ago. The one that I single-handedly almost destroyed.
Knowing what I do, I could say that I would very nearly prefer to be one of the deceased humans than one of the ones still living. At least then I would be free from the hell we subject them to.
I vow, then and there, to change things for the villagers, as soon as the throne is secure. I will make their lives great. They live in the company of some truly magnificent beings. As vampires, there is no way we should be threatened by the prospect of opening the eyes of our humans to the world.
That is what I will do. I will reveal to them this glorious earth and expand their sights far, far past the boundaries of the decrepit village.
Of course, first, The Haven must be made secure.
“The wards around The Haven have fallen,” I tell the woman. A series of gasps from the others meet the proclamation. “When our sanctuary was attacked, the magical object that gave the power was broken. But tonight there is a succession meant to welcome the new Queen.”
“Eleira,” the woman says in a breathless gasp.
I nod. “Yes. She will take power from Morgan.” Assuming everything goes according to plan. “When she does, she will resurrect the wards, and our land will once again be safe. That is when you will be allowed to return to your homes.”
“So soon,” the woman murmurs. “Th-thank you. Thank you! I will not forget this kindness, Prince.”
My mouth almost quirks up in a nasty smile before I can stop myself. I have to remember what I look like to her, through her eyes. To be seen smirking at the word kindness would be taken the wrong way.
Instead, I say, “I will do more for you in the future. That I promise.” I make my voice louder. “I vow to you all! The humans of The Haven shall be elevated to positions undreamt of before. You have been the lifeline of our coven. It is beyond time we vampires start treating you fairly.”
But first, I think, I have to make sure Eleira gets through the succession alive.
Chapter Twenty-Six
James
Deep in the woods of British Columbia
I stroll out of the tiny, inhabited cabin with fresh, lurid blood pulsing through my veins.
The man inside was in his mid-forties and in excellent shape. The riffles and hunting equipment taking space around the walls of his little place told me he was an avid outdoorsman. When I sank my teeth in his slumbering form, he woke up immediately, and put up one hell of a fight.
He fought me all the way to his last breath. And even though no human can ever match the strength of a vampire, this man’s attempt was impressive.
If I hadn’t been so conscious of Victoria’s warning against turning more humans, I wouldn’t have hesitated to make him one of us. He would have been a fine addition to the Nocturna Animalia. As the blood flowed from him to me, I knew all the hardships
he had endured. I knew his courage and his indomitable will.
A man more determined to live I have never fed on. It was a ghastly shame to waste his potential.
But, again, such is life. And I would much rather see myself grow stronger than let my power ebb away.
I walk through the thin tendrils of sunlight toward the cabin Victoria chose for our group. I endure the sensation of the sun, I endure it all, as I wait for the new blood in my body to infuse me with strength.
I reach the triple flight of stairs to the porch, take hold of the wooden railing, and wait.
I feel… energized, yes. I feel… invigorated, as I always do after a feeding.
But I do not feel stronger. Not quite.
My body thrums with the new nourishment. But it does not transcend to the levels I am used to. Not yet.
That, in and of itself, alarms me.
Maybe it’s just the sun, I think. Vampires are not meant to endure its rays.
I’m letting Victoria’s fancies get the better of me. I did not lose any of my powers when I made April and Liana, no, of course not! Such a thing would be ludicrous. Why should I weaken when I give others the serum? The vampire essence is an infinite source, it has to be. And yet…
And yet a small niggle of doubt exists in the back of my mind. What if I did give my powers away? What if I did weaken myself by making April and Liana?
But the concept makes absolutely no sense! Vampires grow stronger over the years. Not weaker. We are entirely unlike humans in that every passing year fills us with more energy, more vitality—not less. There is no downward spiral for me or my kind. We are strengthened by age, and never before have I heard of any limit to such strength. Hell, look at Phillip! He’d forsaken human blood for so long, and yet as soon as he started drinking again the whole process became expedited!
So why would I entertain the notion of losing my strength now? I’ve done nothing untoward. If vampires were not meant to create fledglings, none of us would have been given the ability to pass our powers on! We would not have the serum embedded in our fangs, and neither would it be so easy to convert others!
Ah… but the way my mind drifts to the naturalistic fallacy. Just because “nature” intended it does not mean it’s right.
Besides, we are, to the one, absolute aberrations of nature.
I wait in the morning sun a little bit longer. My skin burns, but the pain is nothing compared to what I was forced to suffer as Father’s prisoner. I am becoming more like Victoria now, taking perverse pleasure in the pain…
The front door swings open. Victoria glares at me. “What the hell are you doing?” she accuses. “Get inside!”
I take one wistful look behind me and enter the cabin.
As soon as the door is shut the feeling of pain cuts off. I take a quick glance around. The living room has been hastily restructured to block sunlight from streaking in through the windows. The blinds are drawn, and furniture has been pushed up against the cracks.
I look at the fledglings, who are fast asleep on the floor. Even though they’re out of sun, they are not yet strong enough to resist the sudden onset drowsiness that comes with day.
It takes years and years and years of being a vampire to learn to counter that.
But I notice one missing, and immediately am hit with a jolt of alarm.
“Smithson,” I say to Victoria. “Where is he?”
“He was starting to become… uncooperative,” she says. “So I had to tie him up. Come. I’ll show you.”
I scowl at the back of her head but say nothing as I follow her down the stairs.
Turns out the cabin does have a little basement. And, sure enough, there in the far corner, a snarling Smithson stands with his arms chained behind him to a metal pipe.
“I could have broken loose the moment you set me here,” he hisses at Victoria. “I did not do it out of respect for him.”
He looks at me.
“Respect, or fear?” I wonder out loud. I walk behind him and see the silver handcuffs binding his wrists. “You might have been able to break the pipe, yes,” I say. “But what would you have done with those?”
“My feet can carry me far, even if my wrists are bound,” he tells me. “But I don’t want to run. Tell your whore companion that I am not against you. If I willed either of you dead, you would have been in the ground long ago.”
“So confident,” I murmur. I look at Victoria. “There’s absolutely no love lost between you two, is there?”
She gives a sly shrug, then shakes her head.
“You’ve finally recovered enough to speak your mind,” I tell Smithson. “That’s good. I was wondering how long it would take.”
“I recovered long ago, but played along to see what you would do,” he states. “Do you think I could trust you not to stab me in the back if you thought me in full capacity? Now that we’re here, however, you need me alive.”
I tap my lips in thought. “Victoria,” I begin, “what do you make of this? Do you think our dear friend recovered and acted like he was still sickly? Or is he bluffing now, trying to make himself out to be stronger than he is?”
“I’d say it’s the latter,” Victoria replies, not a hint of hesitation in her words. “The former Captain Commander always liked to make himself seem more capable than he really is.”
“I share your opinion,” I say. “Now, I want the truth. What was the little spat that ended with him being down here?”
“He began claiming ridiculous things,” Victoria says. “He says we were mistaken to have come here, that Cierra would never return.” She scoffs. “He called your authority into question.”
“And you helped put him in his place,” I say. “That’s very considerate of you, Victoria. You have my thanks.”
She looks at me as if she doesn’t know whether I’m being sarcastic or not.
I address Smithson. “Why do you say that Cierra will not come?”
He laughs in my face. “She is not stupid enough to return to the place where we found her! She has only hate in her heart. I’m certain she made provisions before she laid down to rest. Any magical artifacts she might have kept here have long-since been taken away. We hold all of them in the Order! No, James.” He looks me in the eye. “Cierra only knows one thing, and that is revenge. She will take the fight to the Order. She will uncover our other facilities and attack.”
“You wish to give a warning?” I ask.
He scoffs. “The Order is more sophisticated than that. The moment the mountaintop compound was attacked emergency preparations sprang into place. The other hubs are as secure as they will ever be.”
“Then what do you want?” I wonder.
“I want us to go to her!” he emphasizes. “We cannot lay a trap here and wait. She is too smart to fall for that. You saw the damage she did to my complex. Do you think the three of us can hope to detain her?”
“Perhaps detainment isn’t what I intend,” I say. “Maybe I want to make her an offer of protection.”
Smithson laughs again. “You? Why would she listen to you? I made her the same offer. I told her the Order’s wealth was at her disposal. I said that she could have access to our political might, to the immense, interconnected network of professionals all over the world. Do you know what she did?
“She burned down the most precious facility in the world. That’s what she did. So tell me, James. If she said no to me… whatever makes you think she’ll say ‘yes’ to you?”
“For one, the fact that I did not imprison her,” I say with a sharp grin. “Two, the fact that I am sworn enemy with the one who did.” I wink. “I have a feeling she’ll come around.”
“You poor, poor, delusional bastard,” Smithson says. He looks toward Victoria. “And what do you think? You, at least, have some measly ability with The Spark. If James isn’t going to listen to me, at least he might listen to you.”
“Victoria and I have discussed this plenty of times,” I fib. “She and I are in full agreem
ent.”
“Then the pair of you are damned,” Smithson says. He lifts his chin up to expose his neck. “Do it, then. Rip my throat out. End my life. Because what you intend is suicide, and you’re sentencing us all to death, sooner or later.”
My claws come out. “You have no idea… how tempting that is,” I say in a dead whisper.
I take a step closer. My fingers itch to dig into his chest and crush his still-beating heart.
But a second later I find Victoria’s hand on my shoulder. “James,” she says simply. “No.”
I look at her. And then I look down. I realize my whole body is trembling. The pent-up rage I harbor inside for Smithson has almost caused me to lose control.
With his foolhardy offer, I’d nearly come to the point of no return.
With an extraordinary effort, I force my claws to retract. “Put your head down,” I say in disgust. “And don’t give me reason to kill you again.”
“I did not think mercy was in your heart,” he comments.
“I let you live once, didn’t I?” I snap. “I did it for a reason. Think on how you will appease me when you see me next. For when night falls… we are going to Cierra’s lair.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Riyu
The Crypts
My mind grapples to make sense of what Dagan has revealed to me.
My Father, wielding magic? The King, debasing himself enough to learn the foul art?
It’s unthinkable. Worse than that: it’s dangerous.
I don’t believe for a second that he is strong enough of mind to be trusted with it. Magic, of the sort I know, with the Elemental Forces, is dangerous enough. When you add the uncertainty of dark magic, with all of its corruption… it becomes something significantly more dangerous.
I don’t know much about my Father, aside from the brief glimpses he’s given me. The extent of my knowledge starts and stops as that of his lowliest subjects.
But I have someone with me who knows much more… who’s been privileged to a whole host of insider information that I never dreamt of having access to.