by Cege Smith
Theodora looked as if she wanted to spit nails. “That was very…gracious of you, Tobias.”
Tobias didn’t even look in Theodora’s direction. He was studying Angeline. “It is my honor, Majesty. I move that we adjourn the meeting so that the Queen has adequate time to prepare.”
“Seconded,” came a voice from the back of the room.
Moments later, Angeline was being rushed out of the room with Tobias at her side. “We’ve no need of you right now, Thomas. Why don’t you see if Theodora has any use for you?” Tobias said as Thomas attempted to follow them.
Angeline could hear Thomas sputtering, but when she started to turn to look behind her, Tobias grabbed her elbow and propelled her forward. “Don’t look behind you. Don’t give her the satisfaction. The meeting is over, and you have less than an hour for me to tell you everything you’ll need to know to prepare for this very foolish decision that you have made. For your sake, and your kingdom’s, you’d better hope that you are right.”
“Who are you?” Angeline refused to believe that Tobias’s motives were just to help her. No one did anything unless there was a personal stake in it.
“That is less important, but I will tell you what I think you need to know as soon as we are somewhere more private,” Tobias said. “Just when I thought that you couldn’t have made a bigger mess of things, you step right into another one. It is hard to keep up with you, Majesty.”
His words made Angeline angry. “I am trying to save myself with the limited amount of information I have available to me. So far, I think I’ve done well.”
“You should try looking at it from the outside,” Tobias said.
His tug on her elbow indicated that she needed to move faster, even though she had no idea where they were going. They trudged down the long hallway and then Tobias pointed at a wall. “There.”
Angeline looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a wall.”
“That’s what you are supposed to see,” Tobias said. “Every Council Member has a private meeting room. That is mine.” He said a few words under his breath and a door appeared. He opened it and gestured to Angeline to step inside.
The first thing she noticed was the strong smell of mildew and dust. Parchments covered the floor and every surface that she could see was covered with books. It reminded her of Caspian’s cave. The old vampire had been a collector of information. It seemed that he and Tobias could be twins. She gingerly stepped over several pieces of parchment trying to find a free space of floor to stand without stepping on anything else.
Tobias moved into the room and with a flick of his hands the parchments were suddenly neatly stacked away back into the bookshelves.
“Theodora is not an enemy you want to make, but it seems that you have a habit of doing that no matter where you go,” Tobias said as he pointed at a chair that she hadn’t noticed yet. “She wanted to manipulate you into doing what she wanted. Now you’ve put her in the predicament of having to plan for the possibility that the human Robart bloodline is going to end, and she may have to go down in infamy as the First Seat who lost one of the few clues that we had to the thing we’ve always been searching for.”
“The ability to become Gods,” Angeline said.
Tobias shrugged. “No human wants to die, Angeline. May I call you Angeline?” He waited for Angeline’s nod before continuing. “The vampire has the benefit of immortality but is tied to the curse of blood. The human can live a full and wonderful life but is tethered by the curse of time. After the Gods cursed us, the Clan can only delay the inevitable passage of time through the use of magical means, but what if you could live forever and never die? What if your body became indestructible? Wouldn’t that be like becoming a God?”
“Never to die seems unnatural,” Angeline said honestly. “There is birth. Then life. Then death. And the cycle repeats over and over again.”
“More power to those who view it that way,” Tobias said with a shrug. “But think of the advances we could make in science and the arts if we had endless time to pursue our passions? To learn from our mistakes is human, but to ensure that those same mistakes are never repeated again for everyone’s benefit? That is to be a God.”
It was hard for Angeline to believe that she was arguing philosophy at a time like this, but she knew that it was a critical part of understanding the Clan. “So the One is the person who ushers in that life for the Clan.”
“Yes,” Tobias said pointing a finger into the air. “The One is the key to the Clan’s destiny. It was foretold in the beginning, and we have been looking for that person ever since. Our attempt with Mamette, unfortunately, caused a snarl of issues that we’ve had to work around ever since.”
“What are these Trials of Truth that Theodora spoke of?” It was the question Angeline was afraid to ask because she wasn’t sure that she even wanted to know, but she had to. “Were these the same Trials that Mamette endured?”
“The Gods played a trick on us,” Tobias said. “They deceived us and hoped that by awakening the bloodlust and banning us from the sun that they would balance the Clan’s power and as such, the risk that we would ever find the One. Instead, it only made us more determined.”
“Everyone keeps saying that you and the Master’s coven are different, but yet you both started out the same.” Angeline tried to wrap her mind around that idea.
“Using magic, we have evolved past them. They are our opposite now in almost every way,” Tobias said. “The existence of the human species supposedly brings balance. That is why the wraith is an abomination. It is a convoluted, twisted mixture of both species, and it is pure evil.”
Angeline thought about his words. “That is not who I am, Tobias. That is not what I am. I am not wraith. I believe it more strongly now than ever.”
Tobias nodded. “That is why I’m risking my reputation on you, Angeline. I believe you.”
“Why do you believe me? Why, when everyone else here seems intent on destroying me?”
Tobias shrugged. “Perhaps it is because I know more than the others about your sire. There is much more to that story than Theodora has let on, and when that comes out, you can be assured that I am not the only one who sees that our time has finally arrived and that you may really be the person we’ve been waiting for.”
“You believe me because of Connor?” Angeline said.
“It’s a long story,” Tobias said. “First things first, Angeline. We have to keep you alive. In time, the truth will be revealed, whether we are all ready for it or not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Connor didn’t put up a fight when the guards came for him because it wasn’t the time or the place for a showdown. He thought for a moment that Angeline was going to lose control and try to come to his aid, which would have had disastrous consequences for both of them. The long look they exchanged in those last moments spoke volumes of everything that had passed between them.
Longing. Love. Bitterness. Finality. Hope.
He loved her more than ever because, in the end, she stayed true to who she was. She was a Robart, and that meant that her kingdom would always come first. She would always be a queen first and then a woman. That was who she was meant to be, and he swelled with pride that he had been so fortunate as to be a part of her life. No matter what happened from that point forward, he would love her forever, and there would never be anyone else who could compare to her.
She couldn’t worry about him. She had enough to worry about in facing whatever the devised Trials of Truth would be. His fate was an unnecessary distraction for her. He released her from that burden. He had spent too many years fighting who he was, and in those few moments, he knew that it was time to embrace it. He was damned. He might as well take advantage of that.
Although that may not have been Theodora’s intention in her deception and capture of him, that truth was one that he could no longer deny. He accepted that he was a vampire. There would be no cure or happy ending for him. He had been reborn into lif
e as a bringer of death. Why he still felt the moral shackles of his human life would remain a mystery, but it was a line of reasoning that he would no longer pursue. It was irrelevant now.
He would be an agent of death, and his prey would be the Clan members who stood in the way between him and his freedom. He still had enough semblance of self that he would not subject Angeline to the creature that he was about to become. Just like her though, he knew that there was something different about him and that to categorize him in the same box with all the other vampires was a mistake. He may be vampire, but he was something else as well. Something that he had never been able to put a finger on, but he had a tenacity of will that would bring him what he desired.
At that moment, what he wanted was blood. A lot of it.
Connor took a moment to assess the guards around him. None of them were vampires. The human smell that wafted from their skin confirmed that for him. He didn’t know where Bryant was, but he assumed that the giant vampire was not far. It wouldn’t be prudent to transport a vampire hostage without some kind of insurance, even though he thought that Theodora considered him beaten.
He needed a way to break that blood bond. As long as Theodora had the ability to control his mind and his body, it wouldn’t matter how far he ran from her. When she found him, and she would find him, she would be able to draw him back into her web as surely as a predatory spider.
The answer came to him as he was forced to speak of his time with Angeline in the Amaron Forest. Although he was not a spellcaster, he knew that it was blood that bound him to Theodora as surely as the magic. He could use blood to trace the magic and untangle it. He thought if he used the blood of the one who was used to bind him, Emma, that he might be able to break the spell.
It was a long shot, but Connor studied enough of the histories to know that there were always loopholes in magic. It was never absolute, and that was where the most cunning spellcasters were most successful. They figured out the loopholes in their enemies’ nets of magic and unraveled them or went right through them.
While Caspian had been educating Angeline about the legend of Mamette and Arduro during their brief stay in the Amaron Forest, Connor investigated the vampire’s large collection of books. Caspian was the oldest vampire he knew, and his memory spanned hundreds of years. Connor was hunting for information about the Clan then but happened on a book of spells.
It interested him because he knew that the Clan used magic for all they did, and there were some talented, old vampires, like Caspian, who were able to harness small amounts of magic as well. It was a secret that was well-hidden from the Clan, who considered magic their exclusive domain.
As he browsed the spell book, he noted that many of them were counter-spells; spells meant to defend against the effects of a spell that had been cast on someone. At the time, he paid little attention, but one of the titles of those spells now bubbled to the surface of his consciousness: “Unraveling Blood Bonds”. In it, the person used a blood-induced trancelike state to reveal the magical web that bound them, and once that web was visible, used a simple spell to cut the magical tie. He imagined that in order to bind him, Theodora had some kind of permanent magical tie to him. If he was right, then he might be able to free himself.
First, he needed blood. There was only one way to induce a blood coma, and that was feeding so excessively that the subconscious rose to take over. The body, gorged with blood, went into a hibernation state until it safely processed the large influx of blood. It was quite common in the old days with young vampires who had no control over their thirst, but in the carefully controlled confines of the Master’s coven, such things rarely happened.
Connor had never experienced a blood coma. His disgust with his actions made feeding an experience in self-loathing, and the longer he associated that feeling with it, the less and less he chose to do it until he could no longer bring himself to do it at all. That was the day that he converted to drinking animal and rodent blood. It was not nearly as satisfying as human blood, but it allowed him to bear his existence. What he was about to attempt to do would run counterintuitive to every instinct in his body, but for once, he looked forward to it.
He felt alive. His body felt electrified with the excitement. Now he just had to wait for the right moment. He dropped his head to his chest and moved his feet in a slow shuffle. He wanted to appear as subservient and beaten down as possible. Once the guards grew too confident that they had him where they wanted him, he would strike.
A poke in his back drove him forward, and he allowed his body to fall forward onto his knees.
“Get up, ya filthy vampire,” one of the guards growled. Rough hands grabbed at Connor under his arms and dragged him to his feet.
“What are we waiting for? I say we drive a stake through his heart and burn him right here,” another guard said. This one slid around in front of Connor and stopped the procession. The man stood several inches shorter than Connor. A shock of red hair covered his head, and his sneer said that he thought his stout build more than made up for his lack of stature. “You’re sentenced to die anyway. We could have a little fun.”
Connor let his head loll to the side as the man’s fist connected with his chin. He let his whole body go slack as the man drove another blow into his stomach. Now the two men on his sides held him up as the other man continued his battery of blows up and down Connor’s chest. Each blow made him more certain than ever that what he was about do was the right thing. Connor hated bullies.
“Look! This one’s nothing like Bryant. He’s nothing but a limp coward. Won’t even fight back,” the redheaded guard said.
Connor let his eyes drift to the man’s face and then he smiled. While the guard had been concentrating on pummeling his face, Connor had been unlocking the shackles around his wrists. When he fell to his knees, he had slipped the key out of the pocket of the guard next to him. Monroe’s training was about to come in handy. There was a reason that Connor had been one of the Master’s personal guards.
Flinging the shackles to his left like a whip, he let them curl around the neck of the guard on that side. The man immediately began to claw at the metal chain and let out choking noises. Connor’s other hand went out, and he rammed his fingertips into the eyes of the guard on his right. The man howled in pain and fell backwards against the wall. Streams of blood ran down his cheeks, and the smell made Connor feel heady.
He would deal with those two guards momentarily, but his attention was focused on the red-haired man in front of him, who now shrunk backwards, all of his bluster gone. “I would love to give you a head start and spend the next few hours tracking the scent of your fear all through the tunnels of this compound, but my time grows short,” Connor said.
“You can’t hurt us. We are Clan,” the guard said. He drew a wooden stake out of his belt, which pleased Connor. It had been far too long since he had a proper fight.
“I will hurt you because you are Clan,” Connor countered. He made a slight movement to his left and then to the right, watching the way that the guard moved to counteract him. The man was slow. Connor sighed. It wasn’t going to be much of a fight after all. “You are not all magic folk, I see.”
“Theodora and the Council’s magic protects all of us,” the guard said. He jabbed the wooden stake forward which Connor easily deflected. Then he grabbed the man’s hand and shoved the stake backwards into the man’s stomach.
Connor stepped forward so that he was just inches away from the guard’s face. The way that the man’s body twitched from the pain of the stake in his gullet pleased him. “I suspect that your Council doesn’t give a damn about you, and I’m about to prove it.” Then Connor buried his fangs into the man’s neck.
The blood tasted the way it always did but better because this time there was no guilt associated with it. Connor reveled in the velvety taste as it slid down his throat and he drank as much as he dared before he knew he had to deal with the other guards. He let the man in his arms slide down his
body to the floor. Then he spun around. The man with the metal collar had almost gotten the chain undone, and he stared at Connor in a panic. The other guard wept bloody tears in a corner a few feet away.
Connor went for the guard with the shackles around his neck first. He grabbed one of the metal loopholes and dragged the man’s struggling body to him. He brought the man’s arm up to his mouth and then sank his teeth into the man’s wrist. At the same time, he wound the shackles tighter around the man’s neck. It was exquisite, knowing that he was delivering death in two ways. If the bloodletting didn’t drain the life from the guard, then suffocation would. Too soon he felt the shudders that indicated the man’s final throes of life, and then the body went still.
Then he stalked across the passageway and knelt down in front of the man with no eyes. He reached out and stroked the man’s head. “There, there. I promise, all of this is almost over for you. There is just one more thing I need from you.” He relished the way the guard squirmed and shivered as he innately sensed Connor’s proximity.
Connor licked the blood running down the man’s cheek, and then the guard began to shriek. Connor covered his mouth and took what he wanted, every drip of the man’s blood. After he was done, he stood and felt slightly lightheaded. So far so good, but at the same time, he felt the electricity of life coursing through his veins. It was a feeling of euphoria that bordered on invincibility.
The first guard, the man who fancied himself a bully, had managed to crawl tortuously down the passageway from where Connor left him before preying on his companions. The man had spunk, no doubt about it. A small grin curled on the corner of Connor’s mouth. Perhaps he could use the man for something else after all. Connor grabbed the man’s foot and hauled him across the floor and back into his arms.