The Vampire Touch 3: A New Dawn

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Of course,” Alexander gave him a little head dip, and then headed off. Peter leaned against the windowsill.

  He thought that he couldn't feel anything anymore. But he felt a twinge in his heart today–a twinge of wanting to do more. At the very least, he wanted to make sure a moment like today never happened to poor Yvette again.

  Chapter 7

  “Do you know what the margins are on that?” Nicholas asked Alexander, as they looked at the rents they were collecting from their tenants. As dragon lords, they technically owned the whole kingdom, except for what was delegated to the lesser lords.

  “Well, it's higher than Father's ever were,” Alexander said, his eyebrow raised. “Why?”

  “Because our profits off rents are higher. I checked the accounts,” Nicholas said. “But the amount of properties we are collecting from is low. Father raised the taxes, and you raised them again when you saw the numbers, but you didn't look at what we were collecting from, I think. If we were to lower the taxes, we would have less trouble collecting the rents. So many of them are in hiding, avoiding the high taxes.”

  “Terror is what you are trying to say,” Alexander replied. “Father started a reign of terror, and we unknowingly continued it. Well, you can propose your offer to Peter.”

  There was a silence from Nicholas as he looked at the papers again.

  “Peter is more like Father than you are.”

  “Do not underestimate him, brother,” Alexander replied. “He is changing. He was stuck in hell.”

  “I've heard that the Other was heaven,” Nicholas said softly. “I am afraid to bring this to him. Everything I've brought to him in the last month, he has shot down.”

  “Keep trying,” he said. “Peter can't say no forever.”

  “Perhaps we should shelve this for a while,” Nicholas said. “Until he is more capable.”

  “We cannot wait forever, but I'll leave it up to you. I have a meeting to attend to,” Alexander said.

  “Wonderful,” Nicholas replied, as his brother left the room. The truth was, he never got along with Peter, even as children. “If you could just decide who was king around here, it would make life a little bit easier.”

  “Would it, boy?”

  Nicholas felt shivers go down his spine at that voice. He spun around quickly, his eyes flashing. He was ready to transform, ready to breathe fire. He knew that voice; it sent terror into his very veins.

  But when he spun around, the room was completely empty. His father was nowhere to be found. Nicholas could barely move for a moment, the terror still in his veins. He knew what he heard. He even felt a hint of magic in the room that was reminiscent of his father. But there was nothing.

  “Who's there?” he barked to the empty room. “Show yourself!”

  But there was no answer, as expected.

  Nicholas grabbed the papers on the table, storming out of the room. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Afraid was not something he ever admitted to, but the tyrant that his Father had been was not something he was eager to relive.

  Out in the hallway, Peter and Yvette were seated on side-by-side window ledges, watching the clouds drift by. Yvette had a binder on her lap, although they didn't seem to be paying any attention to it. They were both talking quietly, and Nicholas did not miss the closeness of their hands. He wasn't sure what was brewing between the two of them, but at this moment, he didn't care.

  “What are you two up to?” he asked, switching to English.

  Yvette looked up suddenly, as if they were caught at something.

  “Just learning,” she said, shrinking back against the cool window.

  “What are you doing, Nicholas?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow at his seemingly nervous brother. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

  “Speak English brother,” Nicholas tried to put an easy smile on his face. “Want to go to Earth?”

  “What?” Yvette turned fully at that, practically standing up in one moment. “Earth? Now?”

  “Yes,” Nicholas said. “I have a few errands to run there, a few people to see. I could be your tour guide in a new city.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow.

  “You don't want to be alone on Earth?”

  “Why does everything I do have to have another motive?” Nicholas asked. “Surely, Alexander cannot object if two of us take Yvette to Earth. She can't escape both of us.”

  “I don't…,” Yvette's voice was quivering. “I wouldn't do that. But I would very much like a visit to Earth. Please.”

  “What do you say, Brother?” Nicholas asked.

  “Alexander is not king,” Peter replied. “If I say she can go, of course she can.”

  “You will come?” Yvette asked him. “It can be a learning opportunity.”

  “On Earth?” Peter asked. “What am I going to learn?”

  “I…” She thought rapidly. “I have a friend who has a birthday coming up. Perhaps I could buy her a present and send it to her? You could learn about malls?”

  “Malls?” he cocked his head.

  “Big places to shop. Like a giant indoor market.”

  “Anything you need can be delivered to the palace,” Peter pointed out. Yvette smiled.

  “I know that. But getting it to her might be a bit difficult.”

  “Come on, brother,” Nicholas said. “I don't want to sit around all day. Let's go.”

  “You are impatient,” Peter finally rose. The truth was, he was enjoying the quiet moment by the windowsill. Yvette had asked for a quiet day, her health failing her today. She was quiet about her problems, but Peter only had to accidentally brush against her to know how bad it was. She was desperate for magic, desperate for healing. However, aside from a touch by accident, she wasn't accepting much help.

  “I thought you just said yes,” Nicholas said, and Peter rolled his eyes.

  “Let's go,” he held his hand out to Yvette. She was the only one who didn't constantly ask him questions about his ruling choices; didn't ask him questions about the throne, or his opinions. She simply flooded him with information and let him figure out things on his own.

  “Shall I bring anything?” Yvette asked.

  “Just yourself,” Nicholas said. “Antechamber this way.”

  “Wait,” Ariel shouted at them, just before they closed the door. “Take me, one of you.”

  Nicholas smiled, holding the door open.

  “What do you need, precious?”

  “Last minute dance audition in the big city,” she said. “I wasn't going to go, but Alexander just gave me a big speech about realizing my potential, and now I feel guilty.”

  She saw Peter give her a side-eye and translated for him.

  “That sounds like Alexander,” he said, as they stepped into the right spot. “Do you know last time we were there, the carapaces targeted him?”

  “Yes,” Ariel said. “And I've sent them messages of hell, in no uncertain terms. They won't be doing that again.”

  “You are a queen after my own heart,” Nicholas said, taking her arm. “Stand still for transport.”

  “I never like this.” Yvette stood back against Peter. He wrapped an arm around her, as was needed for the transport. But she felt safer when he did so, even though his mind was clearly elsewhere. He was thinking about the words Ariel had just said.

  She had no experience being queen of any kind, no training. She had grown up in the theater and in rough neighborhoods. He knew she liked a lower class life, and that Alexander was as addicted to her as she was to the partying lifestyle.

  And yet, in a single sentence, she had stopped something that had plagued them and threatened their life. She was an invaluable resource, and she didn't bat an eye at the responsibility that was in her hands.

  If only being that kind of king was as easy to him as it was to her.

  They landed hard in a spot that Peter didn't recognize. They were in the middle of a sidewalk, and Nicholas quickly waved his hand to distract the startled humans. H
e looked a little pale from transporting a carapace, but otherwise, he was his usual, snarky self. “How did we get here?”

  Ariel looked around. “This is a vortex that was closed. I remember closing it when those carapaces brainwashed me.”

  “So how is it open?” Nicholas asked. Peter put his hand on his brother's arm, knowing the answer.

  “More than fifty percent of the carapaces who closed it have to be dead for a vortex to reopen.”

  Ariel said nothing to that, instead glancing to Yvette.

  “Did you understand that?”

  “Yes,” Yvette said. “I used to think that the Other opening was great. The amount of people who have passed away in my life. It is possible for the dead to come back.”

  “Except that half the carapaces being dead means one of two things. Someone has killed them, or they have returned to the Other and have been sucked back. We discussed that this could happen,” Ariel said.

  “What?” Yvette spun around to Peter. “You could be sucked back?”

  “He went the first time of his own volition,” Nicholas put in. “I don't know why this would be so surprising.”

  “Stop,” Ariel snapped at her brother-in-law. “Which of the two do you think is more likely?”

  “Equally likely,” he replied, not taking her anger at face value. “But killing carapaces is illegal. Alexander made it so. Peter has not changed the law, unless he's gone behind my back?”

  “I don't think I like what you are saying,” Peter said. “But, please clarify.”

  “Oh, my God.” Nicholas switched to dragon. “Learn faster. Did you reauthorize a killing of carapaces, like Father did?”

  “No,” Peter replied. “I haven't done anything of the sort.”

  “Ariel, can you talk to the carapaces?” Nicholas asked. “Find out what happened. Because if they are killed, there's very few people who would go against Peter or Alexander to do this. Dragons are the top of the shifters. Everyone answers to us.”

  “I can talk to them after I dance,” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “You don't get to order me around, brother.”

  “Go then,” Nicholas said. “You drive a hard bargain, sister.”

  “Bye,” she sauntered off as if two crowns did not weigh heavily on her head.

  “Wow,” Yvette said, watching her go. “As if it's easy.”

  “Maybe it is,” Peter said softly. “Maybe it is.”

  “Come on,” Nicholas said. “There is nothing we can do but wait. What city sights would you like to see?”

  “Just the mall.” Yvette gave him a small smile. “It's the only lesson I've really gone over.”

  “There.” He pointed to a large white building. “Perhaps I can meet you inside in an hour or so?”

  “Do you…um…” Yvette held out her smartphone. “Do you have a number?”

  Nicholas smiled easily at that.

  “What do you take me for?” he took the phone, programming it in. “As if I haven't bothered to get a phone. How will I manage my harem?”

  “I…,” Yvette looked up and blushed red.

  “Nicholas,” Peter snapped. He wasn't quite sure what his brother said, but he could see that Yvette was embarrassed, which he didn't like. Nicholas grinned, handing the phone back.

  “Always honorable,” he said. “I'll see you soon.”

  “Right,” Yvette brushed her hair back. “Shall we?”

  “This is madness,” Peter watched the number of people coming and going from the mall. “Hypnotized?”

  “The teenage girls?” Yvette grinned. “Yes. It's a pastime.”

  He couldn't see the attraction of it. But the crush of people inside the mall made his eyes nearly fall out of his head. He stepped back, not used to crowds swirling around him. Crowds usually parted for Peter, not ignored him.

  “It's okay,” Yvette gave him a cheeky grin. “I'll protect you.”

  Chapter 8

  “Are you used to them bowing to you?” Yvette was trying to understand why Peter looked so very frightened. She had never seen him afraid, even when she described the horrors of the world that he had missed. “Not used to being so close?”

  “Too close,” he said. “They have no regard.”

  Their hands brushed up against each other, and she took her chance in squeezing his hand. She didn't mean it as a romantic action. When she moved, it had been one of support. But as soon as she touched him, she felt the familiar jolt go through her.

  “Where would you go?” he asked, looking down at her. He didn't react at all to the fact that they were now holding hands. She realized, mostly by his body language, that what he was actually asking was where she would like to go.

  This was also different than she was used to. Whenever she went anywhere with Thomas, he had an agenda, and there was no deviation from it. He was an alpha male, used to leading armies. She would have expected the same from a king. However, Peter's kind face told her otherwise.

  “I usually look around the book stores and at the clothing.”

  “Clothing is not made for you?” He was trying to take it in all in.

  “Oh, well,” she realized. “I mean, you can get some that is custom made if you have a lot of money. But most people buy ready-made clothes. Pre-made. Look, ten of them,” she pointed to a dress in a random shop window. “Different sizes. Pick it up and try, and then buy.”

  Peter looked horrified at the very idea of that.

  “No. Clothes should be made by a…a–”

  “Tailor?” she asked with a smile. “Not everyone has that money, Peter. That's all. This is cheaper. And that's nice.” She did like the pink gown in the window. It was a cute party dress, with a tank top and a fluffy skirt. As an added bonus, she could see that the sale was enough to meet her budget. She got paid well, it was true, but her hospital bills would never match her paycheck.

  “You would buy that?” he pointed to the dress.

  “Yes,” she said, and he shook his head.

  “No. You work in the palace now. I want a good gown for you.”

  “What?” she cocked her head, grinning. “You want to take me to a tailor and get some custom-made gown?”

  “Yes,” he repeated bluntly. “Where?”

  Yvette lit up. She wanted to hug him.

  “I know a place,” she said “But how will you pay for it?”

  “Magic,” he said. “You are not a carapace.”

  “That is true,” she said.

  “Then it's done,” he said. “Show me.”

  “This way, I think.” She had seen malls like this, and if she was right, there was a high-end dress shop on the top floor that had custom-made pieces. All the malls looked alike and were populated by the same companies.

  She pulled him through the mall, finding the escalator. He stopped for a second, confused by the technology. It seemed so primitive and yet confusing.

  “It's alright,” she said, tugging at his hand. “Just step.”

  “I can just…” he moved to snap his fingers and transport them, and she shrieked with laughter.

  “Peter, no!” she cried, grabbing his hand and pushing him onto the escalator “We're on Earth. You can't just do that. Hey, look. It's you.”

  They were passing a shop with branded t-shirts. One–a mannequin on the window–was a screen print of a dragon that looked suspiciously like Peter.

  Dragons will eat us all soon; don't waste time.

  “What a distasteful t-shirt,” she said in shock.

  “What does it–”

  “You don't want to know,” she said. “Trust me. It's just rude. I mean, people died.”

  “People died because I killed them.” He looked her into the eye.

  “I know,” she said. “I sat at home and watched you on TV. And I was frightened, of course. And people did die, but I saw more than that.”

  He watched her silently, waiting for her words. He knew what she could say. She could tell him that he was a monster; that he had lost control
, and he had to gain it. He had done terrible things; he knew that. Alexander had almost been killed because Peter was too caught up in his blood lust to notice that his brother was sickening and that the carapaces were attacking him. He would never forgive himself if Alexander did not recover, and even now, Alexander was not at top strength. Peter had killed innocents, something he had vowed to never do.

  “I knew you were dangerous; I knew you had done wrong, but I also thought you were scared. I mean, I've seen how dragons come back from the Other. They are terrified and messed up and confused. Thomas still can't get his head around the world. His blood lust continues weekly. And no one was helping you; no one was guiding you; no one was even listening to you.” Her eyes filled with emotion. “I mean, you were ripped out of Heaven, Peter, and expected to live in this world that was half Hell. How can people think that it's easy?”

  He only caught about 75% of the message, but he could see the emotion in her eyes–the compassion. Compassion was a trait that kings were supposed to have. They weren't looked upon with compassion or kindness; it was unheard of. People flattered them. People gave them gifts and lied to them about happiness, but they generally didn't show them kindness without a motivation.

  Yvette looked upon him as if she had seen into his very soul.

  He didn't have the proper words to respond. So instead, he squeezed her hand.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”

  She fell into his arms, just for a quick hug. And to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her. In the sea of moving people, they were a rock, unmovable for that moment.

  When they finally broke apart, she wiped her eyes and smiled.

  “Dress?” she asked. “Gown?”

  “Yes,” he laughed, and she led the rest of the way.

  He was surprised at how much the shop looked like the tailor shops that he knew on Umora. The tailors may be oddly dressed, but they walked around with the same measuring tapes and pins in their mouths.

  “Can I help you?” A girl approached them, who didn't look much older than Yvette.

  “I–” Yvette said, but Peter put a hand on her arm.

  “We need a gown.” When he was speaking to someone he didn't know, his confidence in English faltered. She smiled, trying to give him confidence. “For her.”