by Lucy Lyons
This is it.
Those cold, cold lips parted and she waited for the first shock of pain.
“What is the meaning of this?” a loud, angry voice trumpeted from across the auditorium.
Marcus didn’t release Viktoria, although she felt his grip slacken on her head just enough for her to look to the side.
The sea of vampires parted, allowing a young man only a few years older than Viktoria to come striding through.
Viktoria was wondering why there was another human in the midst of vampires, when suddenly she realized she’d been fooled. That shouldn’t have happened because she’d already seen a child vampire, but she just hadn’t pictured anyone around her own age being an ugly, hateful creature.
But, as he approached, she saw he was beautiful. Pale skin offset his unnaturally dark hair, framing a proud face with a straight nose and strong jaw. His shoulders were wider than the rest of him and muscles rippled along his frame as he walked, adding a sort of dangerous air to him. It was said that vampirism turned people into a caricature of what they had been in life, so she could only imagine how handsome he had been before.
“Well?” the vampire demanded, his voice deep and strong. Power thrummed in that voice, making her understand why the others had gotten out of his way. His imposing figure mounted the stage where he glared at the king and queen vampires with his eyes burning gold. “What is going on? Who is this, and why was I not welcomed to the Choosing?”
“How did we raise our son to be such an impatient ruffian?” the king muttered to his queen, who simply shrugged.
Their son? Vampires were dead. How on Earth could they possibly have children? Maybe it was just a way of saying that they had bitten and turned him. Either way, that meant this imposing young man was technically a prince.
“Don’t play games with me,” the prince snapped. “Answer my question, and do it immediately. Who is this human? Why is she here?”
“You were told as well as everyone else that the destruction of the Willow Den was a successful mission,” the queen said. “Don’t play games with me, Desmond. You were not invited because you immediately requested for us to leave you alone afterwards.”
Desmond. That’s the name of such a good-looking vampire, huh? It suited him.
“But you didn’t say there was a survivor,” Desmond replied moodily. “I would have reconsidered. But, why is a hunter about to go through the Choosing? Wouldn’t she be more valuable alive?”
Marcus growled low in his throat, twisting around to face his prince with a sour smile. He dragged Viktoria with him. “She’s just a useless innocent who got in the way. Back off, Desmond. She’s mine.”
Desmond bristled visibly, his anger burning so hot that she could almost see the heat of it scorching his body from the inside-out. “Who says she’s just an innocent?”
“She isn’t a Willow. She can’t resist the charm.”
“Can’t she?” Desmond said, staring hard at Viktoria. She swallowed uneasily, and then gave him a wobbling smile. Desmond’s anger suddenly evaporated as he looked at her, his eyes widening a little. His lips curved, cracking the stoniness of his chiseled face into something that seemed almost alive again.
She shivered a little. He looked almost trustworthy somehow, but she wasn’t supposed to be charmed by him. She “belonged” to someone else.
Tugging on Marcus’s cold arm, she said softly, “Why is this scary man looking at me so meanly?”
Desmond seemed to stiffen, and he stared even more intensely. “You would rather be consumed by that brute, just because I seem frightening? You humans are so strange.”
Vampires were no less odd, she thought.
Marcus grabbed her head again. “If you two girls are done talking, I was in the middle of something.”
He turned back to Viktoria, and pressed his lips to her skin.
This is it.
Chapter 4
Viktoria waited to feel the first jab of fangs sinking into her skin but it never came. The grip on her skull fell away and her eyes snapped open.
Something in Desmond seemed to break right in front of her eyes, the rage inside him boiling over. He grabbed Marcus by the shoulder and shoved him away forcefully, swiping sharp nails at the other vampire’s wrist to make him let go. Released, she sprang backwards and looked around to see if she could run, but the fighting wasn’t over yet.
Marcus stumbled backwards towards the edge of the stage but would have regained his footing if Desmond let him. Lightning-fast, he launched himself into Marcus, knocking them both into the crowd. Rearing back his fist, Desmond slammed it straight through his ribcage to rip out his still-beating heart.
Viktoria screamed, fear closing in over her eyes until she thought she might faint. The heart was tossed aside, rolling limply across the stone before going still. The image burned itself in her mind, looming larger and larger until she knew she would see that in her dreams… if she lived long enough to dream again.
Come on, focus! she pleaded with herself.
Desmond ignored the corpse and the spreading puddle of blood beneath it.
Desmond glared around at every vampire present, his gaze burning with anger. Viktoria waited, trembling and terrified, for him to announce that he would kill her himself. “This human is mine now. No one else will touch her. If anyone attempts to harm her, they will have to go through me.”
That was not what she’d been expecting. If anything, the possibilities involved with that were even worse.
The queen vampire sighed dramatically, as though all of this bored her. “Desmond, that isn’t…”
“She is mine!” he snarled. His voice echoed with all the might of thunder through the auditorium, silencing all protests. No one dared argue with their prince once he knew what he wanted.
No one argued with the prince, except the king and queen. A snarl broke across the king’s impassive face. Faster than the eye could see, he leapt across the stage and grabbed Desmond’s collar in one fist. “Don’t raise your voice at your mother, insolent child.”
“I stopped being a child long ago,” Desmond growled. With both hands, he grabbed at the fist tangled in his shirt and pulled the white-knuckled fingers apart. Viktoria’s mouth opened slightly in shock. The king looked as though he was struggling with all his might, but Desmond pushed his hands away like it was nothing. “This decision is mine to make.”
Now the queen had moved, coming to stand beside her husband. Her fangs flashed. “You would kill one of your own kind to save the life of a pathetic human? She’s useless!”
“Desmond must be a traitor,” a voice cried from the gathered throng. Another rose up in answer, “He’s a murderer! No better than a hunter!”
Desmond’s shoulders tensed up hard enough to shatter bricks across them. His mouth opened, flashing terrible and wicked fangs that seemed somehow longer than the others she’d seen so far. A hiss pulled from his throat, causing even the queen to back away slightly. “I am no traitor, and I am not a hunter. I refuse to tolerate insolence. Marcus should have waited to see what I wanted, and now he is dead for it. Let that be a lesson to anyone who would stand in my way!”
Unrest stirred in the crowd, unhappy voices all around. The powerful king and queen stared at Desmond, just as he stared back. No one seemed willing to budge. As the tense seconds dragged on, Viktoria started to wonder if she would witness even more of a bloodbath than before.
Then, suddenly, all three royal vampires backed away from each other. Something unspoken seemed to have passed between them that Viktoria’s human mind couldn’t comprehend. “Fine,” the queen snapped. “So be it. Ownership of the human passes from to Desmond. Desmond, you now have a choice. Will you take her as your pet?” Her tone made it sound once again as if she hardly cared.
Desmond turned to her and looked deep into her eyes. She saw her own face reflected back at her, a blank and frightened mask. Now he had to make the same choice that Ma
rcus had been about to. Would she be a slave, or would she be food?
“What’s your name?” he asked, another surprise. She still didn’t like it. This horrible brute kept doing strange things and she didn’t like it. He murdered another vampire in cold blood for a perceived slight! Who knew what he was going to do to her?
“Oh…Viktoria.”
He sighed and stepped in closer to her. Her whole body went rigid with terror. His cold, dead breath hit her neck as he buried his face against her. Her skin scrawled with revulsion and she tightened her fists, about to strike out at him, but his lips never parted and his fangs never pressed sharp and deadly against her flesh.
Her pulse beat rapidly and she shook, not understanding.
Then, nothing happened. Desmond withdrew, roughly pulling up her shirt collar as if to cover a bite mark, but there wasn’t one. She quivered with the strain of not understanding this mysterious, murderous barbarian.
“Viktoria is mine,” he said.
But you didn’t…
Desmond held out his hand for Viktoria to take it. “May I?” he asked, and then reached for hers before she could answer. However, she shrank back from his touch. His hand was streaked with splotches of dried blood and she didn’t want to touch it.
Someone in the ranks of vampires behind him let out a mocking laugh. “Can’t even charm a lovesick teen,” they hissed, and laughed again.
Desmond whipped his head around and stared at the speaker. They shut up instantly but he continued to stare at them until they started to squirm, clearly wondering if they were about to share Marcus’s fate.
Desmond looked back at Viktoria and held out his hand again. She looked down at it and shook her head still. He glared but seemed to understand, offering his cleaner hand instead. “I will not harm you,” he promised solemnly. Somehow, it didn’t sound very comforting. He could kill her instantly and it wouldn’t hurt a bit.
Viktoria’s eyes widened as she looked from his face to his hand, and then down to his bloodied fingers on the other hand. “You killed him,” she said quietly.
“I did,” Desmond agreed. “He was a danger to you, and you are safer with me.”
I don’t believe you.
It didn’t look like she had a choice. Very slowly, she reached out to take his hand. He curled his fingers around hers and held on tightly. His skin was like ice against hers and his grip was almost painful. A little grimace rose on her lips before she could force it away. He didn’t let go, and held on even tighter.
“I guess we’re done here,” the vampire queen said, disgusted, and began to move away from her perch on the stage. Her king followed obediently. That was the signal for all the others that the meeting was over, and the crowd became a flood as vampires moved in a giant, many-parted mass to exit through the tunnels and doorways around the auditorium.
Desmond watched his brothers- and sisters-in-blood move around with all the alarming organization of an ant hill, and then he turned back to Viktoria as if he meant to say something. She was too busy looking around to notice that he wanted her attention, so he tugged sharply to get it.
“What are you looking at?” he said, low and threatening.
She blushed a little at being found out and dropped her gaze to her feet, but he saw her eyes still darting about here and there.
“Are you bound to someone else?” Desmond pressed. Binding a human to them was what vampires did when they wished to treat them like a slave. The process involved a bite that was not intended to turn the human or drink their blood, but to scar them and mark them as property.
Viktoria’s mouth opened, grasping for words. “Of course not! You would have seen when you…” She hesitated, confused now. She was about to say that Desmond would have seen another’s mark on her when he bit her, but he hadn’t actually bitten her, and she didn’t know why. What was he waiting for?
“Then, what is it? Tell me. If you’re afraid, I already said you are safe with me.” He looked angry that she didn’t trust him
Viktoria wrung her hands together nervously. “I was just wondering if it was true. If what the other vampire said was true.”
Suddenly, he understood. “You’re asking if the Willow clan is truly dead?”
She nodded.
He sighed. “I see. That vampire was Mel. He is definitely an odd sort but I have never known him to lie about anything. If he says all the Willows are dead, they are probably all dead.”
A slow tear tracked down one of her cheeks. She couldn’t help it.
“Viktoria? Are you hurt?” Desmond demanded, angrier than ever.
“No,” she sobbed, and raised her hands to her eyes. Her voice choked on the words and she knew pain was etched into her features. “I…I’m just…sad.”
“You didn’t have any connection with them.” There was an accusation in his voice.
She shook her head vehemently, knowing one of these times he wouldn’t believe her lie. “I just…they seemed so nice.”
Desmond reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. She shivered from cold and revulsion. “Outward appearances may not be the same as the reality of things, Viktoria. Those hunters were dangerous to my people. They disobeyed our truce by going outside their walls without permission, and they killed innocent vampires. They were dangerous.”
“Then why didn’t you let their own people take care of it?” she snapped, and then cringed. Stupid!
He took a step backwards and then narrowed his eyes, glaring at her. His suspicion hung thick in the air. “Their people were apparently doing nothing. They didn’t even know about it, and they would not have done anything once they did. The law is there for guidance but sometimes, rules must be bent.”
Viktoria just sullenly turned her head away again, but all the fight went out of her as her shoulders slumped desolately. Desmond took her hand again without asking permission. “I am a prince of my people. You can’t make everyone happy. I was not involved in the attack so I can’t tell you what you obviously want to hear. Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t,” she squeaked, and turned her face away. She was defeated.
“Look, the chamber is very nearly empty.” Desmond gestured out at the auditorium. Only a dozen or so stragglers remained. Most of them were speaking with each other, deep in the midst of a heated discussion. The expanse of the cavern seemed somehow smaller without all the other occupants. The only bit of vibrancy was Marcus’s corpse, surrounded by dark scarlet. Her insides squirmed. “I’m taking you to my private chambers,” the vampire prince continued.
All she could do was nod, exhaustion dragging at her.
Holding her hands securely, Desmond strode off towards the nearest entryway and stepped through, back into the blackness. As he did so, he held Viktoria closer to his body so that she could navigate.
She expected another long, grueling walk but very shortly she felt the cool touch of outside air on her skin. Her heartbeat quickened and she sped up her pace as they turned a corner and right there in front of them was an opening.
Now. I have to do it now. I have to fight back. He’s alone. I can take him.
Her heart pounded as they walked out of the tunnel mouth and stood before a small cliff on the side of the mountain. The rest of the fortress rose high up above them so that she had to crane her neck to see all of it.
When she turned back around, Desmond was reaching out to grab her.
“No!” she yelped, and swung her fist at his head. It was a terrible blow, weak and random.
Desmond swatted her hand away like he was pushing aside an annoying kitten, and then his cold arms wrapped around her entire body, crushing her against him. Scooping her up in his arms bride-style, he held her effortlessly and then jumped.
She screamed, but he didn’t jump down the cliff. Instead, using his vampire’s supernatural strength, he leapt upwards. The cold mountain air rushed past her cheeks, whipping her hair around wildly.
Then, suddenly, everything stopped with a horrific wrench and she dropped back down against stone. Dizzy and breathless, she struggled to get to her feet and looked around.
Once more, they were standing on a cliff but this one was wide and jagged and terribly high, almost all the way at the top of the fortress.
Did…Desmond jump? Up here? From all the way down there? Holy shit!
The view of the mountain beneath her, the cascading jagged peaks and the curves of the fortress, was enough to make her step back from the edge of the cliff. Dizzy and sick with vertigo, she put one hand against her forehead and groaned.
“You tried to hit me.”
A fierce hand grabbed at her wrist, yanking her around roughly. Desmond glared at her, rage on his face. “You tried to hit me,” he repeated, and pulled her in even closer to stare at her. “You aren’t charmed at all, are you?”
“You startled me!” she said, trying to plead with him. This was it. She’d ruined her chance. She braced herself, knowing that she was either going to have to try to hurt him again, or she would die right here. In her mind, she ran through a checklist of a vampire’s weak points –but she didn’t know if Desmond had any of those. He was so powerful for some reason…
His nails dug into her flesh and his face was only inches away from her. Surprisingly, the smell of his cold breath was sweet. Then again, she thought with a flash of terror, so was the scent of dead and rotting things.
“Don’t do that again,” he snapped, shaking her slightly. “Don’t even consider it. As long as you don’t try to harm me, you are safe with me. Do you understand?”
Viktoria said nothing, calculating the risks of jabbing him in the eye.
“Do you understand?”
His voice was chilling, turning her blood cold. Reluctantly, she nodded. He backed away from her then, looking angry but satisfied. “Good. Then, you may come inside.”
Desmond turned away from the front of the cliff, facing in the opposite direction. Suddenly realizing she hadn’t even taken in her surroundings, she turned around as well.