by Cege Smith
She felt like a freak. Being a wraith was something that at least had been seen before, but now she realized that wasn’t what she was at all. That was why she didn’t act like a true wraith. That was why she had abilities that belonged to each of the species manifesting without warning or explanation. She was a hybrid of all.
What did they call someone who was the combination of all of them?
Her feet slowed. They called that person the One.
The Immortal Ones were exceedingly clever. They set the boundaries so specifically that they probably thought it could never happen. They gave the Clan a partial blueprint of who to look for, knowing that the possibility of there actually being such a confluence of events was next to impossible.
Yet there she was, living and breathing, and wholly lost. She wasn’t sure if the realization that she was a different monster entirely made her feel better or worse. She was a thing unto herself, and there would never again be any others like her. Did that make her the best choice to lead Altera, or the worst?
It was something that she would have to consider once the immediate threats to her people were gone. Until then, she felt more certain that she was uniquely qualified to battle anyone who stood in her way. Then she would return to the Immortal Ones and demand answers for her future.
It was a simple plan, but having any plan at all made her feel more secure for the moment. She looked up and realized that her feet had brought her once again to the stairs that led down to her father’s final resting place. Although the candles lit the passageway down into the tomb, no one from the palace would disturb her there. She had found the perfect place of solitude to think about what happened next.
Her feet barely touched the ground as she quickly made her way down the steps and into the cool air of the crypts. She wandered through the ornate archway of the Arch of Kings. She made no noise as she walked on the padded, red carpeting that led to Eric Robart’s stone coffin.
Looking at the bust set just to the side of the coffin, she thought again of what he would think about her now. He had been insistent that he would never marry again, and given the rumors that she tried not to hear over the years, he was extremely careful with the women who did enjoy his bed. There was no chance of a bastard being born of his blood. Everyone, including Eric, said it was because he loved Melinda so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of ever committing himself to anyone else in that way.
“He was a good king.”
Angeline whirled around and found Rhone standing behind her. He looked over her shoulder at Eric’s burial bust with sad eyes. “He was taken from us much too soon. I thought he and I would grow old and grey together.”
Knowing that Rhone was a Blood Guard threw everything that she thought she understood about him into question. She often looked on Rhone as her second father. She trusted him implicitly, but that was before fate intervened and made her into a creature that wasn’t meant to exist.
“He would be proud of you,” Rhone said. “You grew up strong-willed and brilliant. That was what he hoped.”
“If only I had come in the package of a son,” Angeline said as she took a step sideways in the direction of the entrance. She wanted to get away from Rhone before he had any cause to question her. There were far too many things that had happened in his presence already that would have the man on high alert. “I know that was his greatest disappointment.”
“You were never a disappointment,” Rhone replied. “Eric couldn’t explain it, but he knew that dark forces swirled around this family. After what happened to Melinda, he was afraid to put anyone else at risk. He put all of his energy into protecting you so that you could carry on his legacy.”
“Her murder impacted both of us,” Angeline said. “I witnessed it, remember? It was unfair learning at five years old that the world is a place to be afraid of as much as be in wonder of.”
“Their murder,” Rhone corrected. “Your father never told you because he didn’t want you to know, but I think it’s important for you to understand why he feared taking another bride. The Queen was pregnant when she was murdered.”
Angeline felt faint. “What?” Then a vision from her dream flashed in her mind. She saw the Vicar’s empty eyes after he sliced the knife across Melinda’s throat, and then he drove the knife directly into her belly. The knife’s intended target was never Melinda, but the one that she carried inside of her. “Why? Why wouldn’t he have told me this?”
“Despite all of the threats that he faced over the years, none of them ever had anything to do with you,” Rhone replied. “His enemies seemed content with the idea of a Robart Queen, no doubt so that they could do as they’ve done since his death. Create discontent and mischief among the people around you. Eric and I did everything we could to ensure that when you did take the throne, you’d be ready for it. That you’d have the right allies at your side to take down any threats and that you’d be able to lead the people of Altera into future generations of prosperity.”
“Everyone expected me to fail,” she said.
“No,” Rhone shook his head. “I never thought that you’d fail. Neither did the King. I know you are hiding things from me, Your Majesty. I have served your family for my entire lifetime. I am your most devoted servant. Your father often took me into his confidence for matters that he didn’t even trust with the Chief Advisor.”
“Because he is Clan.”
Her words had the intended effect. Rhone’s body tensed, and his eyes widened. “You know about the Clan?”
Angeline had a choice. She could walk away from Rhone and continue to leave him in the dark, or she could make him one of the most powerful allies she had. Rhone’s sole purpose was to protect the royal family and the people of Altera from the vampires. She needed to trust someone other than Connor who had loyalty and allegiance to her, and no other motivations.
She took a deep breath, and then she nodded. “I do. I know about many things, Rhone. Things that my father did not prepare me for, and things that I feel I am ill-equipped to deal with at the moment.”
If Rhone reacted badly, she was powerful enough that she could kill him, but that was not what she wanted. More than anything, she wanted an ear that would be honest with her, and willing to help.
“He should have told you about the vampires,” Rhone said gruffly. “I am sure he would have if he had regained consciousness after your return from the Sisters of St. Abath. His illness had already progressed too far by that point. I wasn’t sure how to tell you. None of this is my place, but there is no one else now.”
Then Angeline had an idea of how to protect both of them until she was sure that he understood her dilemma and wouldn’t try to hurt her. “I am going to tell you things that you aren’t going to like, Rhone. I need your word that you will listen to everything I have to say before passing any judgment or reacting in any way.”
“Of course,” Rhone replied. “I swear on my sword.”
Angeline pulled the small knife out of her pocket. It was the knife that Rhone gave her on the day of her graduation from his training. “I’m going to need to ask that you make that oath a bit more formal than that.”
She had learned a lot in the last several days, including the fact that when one used blood to bind anything, it was very difficult to break it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Connor glided through the various hallways and rooms inside the palace, deliberately avoiding the wing where the Queen’s chambers were located. He made a mistake by going there right after he realized that Monroe was still alive. He wanted to make sure before raising the alarm, and that meant a very dangerous game of cat and mouse with the man who knew him perhaps better than he knew himself.
Over the years, at every turn, Monroe was there, herding him and keeping him in line. Although the length of the line was longer, the collar of Monroe’s control still chafed. It was Connor’s kidnapping of Angeline that gave him the courage to see if he could break it once and for all. He escaped Monroe f
or almost a month, and then was found once again when he followed Angeline back to Brebackerin.
Connor looked back on his memories of his sire with far more skeptical eyes now. It was strange that, in all of his years with the Master, Monroe had never sired another vampire besides him. The Master would have noticed that as well, and so Connor wondered if his own siring had been a simple consolatory gesture to divert the Master’s attention from Monroe once again.
Connor kept his mind closed, but allowed his other senses free reign to guide him. Vampires had their own signature scent. It was something that he had learned to develop with Monroe’s guidance, but it was something that he hadn’t used in many years. Still, he knew Monroe’s scent better than anyone else’s because his body was automatically turned to it. They shared blood.
His nose picked up another vampire’s scent almost immediately, and his nostrils flared. Elvry. But she had crisscrossed the palace several times in her guise as the Lady Redley, and so that wasn’t unexpected. If Monroe were to track him by scent, then the fact that he also had been through the palace before leaving for Tanagor would help to confuse the issue as well. Connor kept to the shadows as he crept along the hallways looking for the scent that he wanted, and tried to block out Elvry from his mind.
It was more difficult than he imagined. He shared Elvry’s bed for decades, distancing himself from any emotions that came along with watching her cruelty against the human stock and vampires alike. She was a fickle mistress, and he learned quickly that the best way to stay out of her way was by doing everything she asked and constantly telling her that she was the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. It was a time that he wanted more than anything to erase from his memories. What he shared with Angeline was a thousand times more powerful, and it was so pure that he wanted to weep.
It didn’t take long before he caught another familiar scent intermingled with Elvry’s. Elvry’s had grown fainter by that point. She had not been through that hallway for at least a day, but the other one’s scent was recent.
It was Monroe. He was certain of it now. He had to get closer, even though everything in his body said that he should be fleeing in the opposite direction and leaving the palace immediately. He had to know what Monroe was plotting if he was going to be able to protect Angeline.The palace, sprawling structure as it was, was still too small, and Monroe was too good for him to hide for long.
But he couldn’t leave until the sun went down, and neither could Monroe. They were both trapped inside. So the more that he knew about Monroe’s intentions and whereabouts, the better. At least, that’s what he told himself as he forced his feet to move in the direction of the scent.
After arriving in Brebackerin, but before approaching Angeline after her Ascension, Connor spent time compelling the servants for information on the winding and twisting hallways of the palace. He drew it out on a piece of paper and added to it with each conversation until he felt reasonably confident that he understood where most of the important areas were including Angeline’s new chambers once she took the throne.
Her rooms were in the east wing of the palace on the third floor, well away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the palace. Monroe’s scent became stronger the closer that he got to the third floor in the east wing. He could hardly believe it when he slid cautiously past the hallway that led to the door to Angeline’s rooms. Monroe’s smell was overwhelming there. There was no doubt that Monroe was in her room.
But it wasn’t Angeline that had drawn Monroe to her rooms. He was convinced of that now. It was Sophia Robart.
Connor had never met Sophia. Supposedly she died giving birth to the Master’s only bloodborn son, Searon. That event happened just a few months before Monroe sired Connor. The timing of that event now looked more suspicious than ever. Connor tried to think if Monroe had ever mentioned the former vampire Mistress. He had been completely wrapped up in his own hell, but he recalled one conversation shortly after he took up with Elvry that now seemed more significant.
Connor had just left Elvry’s room and was headed for his scheduled shift guarding the Master. Monroe waylaid him before he had even taken three steps out the door.
“It seems this infatuation that Elvry has with you is going well,” Monroe said.
Connor was unsure how to respond. Elvry was an elder like Monroe, and he was nothing but a lowly guard. In the hierarchy of the coven, it wasn’t done to refute the advances of an elder. Elvry could decide the next day that something he had done displeased her, and have him sentenced to death. That fear gnawed at him throughout their entire relationship.
“I do not wish to disappoint her,” Connor replied. It seemed a safe enough answer. By nature of the length of time that they had both been in the coven, Monroe and Elvry were also confidantes. He didn’t want to say anything negative that would reach her ears by accident.
“Elvry is a complicated woman,” Monroe replied. He pounded Connor on the back. “It is a wonderful thing to catch the eye of a beautiful woman. They are like rare flowers blooming in the moonlight.”
Connor was in no mood to talk of women or otherwise with Monroe. He preferred to sulk in silence, which is probably what caused his reaction to Monroe’s words. “What do you know of it? I’ve been here for years, and I’ve never seen you with any of the women.”
Monroe shrugged the sarcastic comment off. “I am selective in who I chose to spend my time with, and there hasn’t been anyone here for some time that appeared worthwhile.”
Connor couldn’t help it. His interest was piqued. What kind of woman would interest a man like Monroe? “Did the one who got away chose another then?”
Monroe sighed. “There are always complexities when it comes to affairs of the heart. I know that you never loved anyone before I found you. It was one of the reasons I chose you. You had no attachments to your former life to call out to you. One day, perhaps you’ll understand.”
Monroe’s words smarted more because they were true than anything else. What Connor didn’t say though was that Elvry was not the woman who would change that for him. He could never love someone so selfish, vain, and cruel. She was everything that he didn’t want in a companion. That thought made him even more sullen because he knew that because Elvry had claimed him, there wouldn’t be anyone else. Not as long as Elvry wanted to play with him.
“Perhaps you’ll tell me of this woman who managed to claim the attention of the great and mighty Monroe,” Connor mocked.
Monroe cast a look around them. “There is no one. There never was anyone. You’ll forget that I ever told you such a thing.” Then he walked away without another word.
That was the first time that Connor had the conscious awareness that Monroe was trying to compel him, and it didn’t work. He didn’t know why, and he never let on that it didn’t work. It was a secret he hid away until the day he walked away from the coven forever to follow Angeline. Monroe, Elvry, and even the Master had no idea that another vampire’s compulsion didn’t work on him. It was a clue that he ignored for too long. He was possible that he was even more different than he ever suspected.
Now that he knew where Monroe was, Connor had to attempt to do the impossible. He had to see if he could pluck a thought or two from Monroe, or better yet, Sophia, to see if there was anything useful that he could use against them. Monroe’s mind was usually an impenetrable fortress, and Connor understood why. Monroe carried far more secrets than anyone suspected. If the Master had any idea that Monroe carried any emotional attachments to his bride it would mean death, Chief Deputy or not.
So Connor decided it made more sense to focus on Sophia. If she relaxed her guard at all, he might be able to pull something. The trick was to reach out without letting either one of them know that he was there. Connor was strong, but Monroe was far stronger. He would lose against him in any kind of physical match-up.
Connor knew that there was another hallway that ran parallel to the outside wall of Angeline’s quarters, and a smal
l alcove was situated there across from that wall. At least he would have a small head start if either one of the vampires sensed him and came after him.
He moved quickly to the alcove and was pleased to see that a small bench sat just inside the alcove. Anyone looking down the hallway wouldn’t immediately see him unless they walked up to it. Here though, the sensation of Monroe’s presence was much stronger. He had to trust that the cloaking of his mind would be enough because as soon as Monroe stepped outside the room, he’d catch Connor’s scent. Whether it was old or new would only slow him down for a few minutes. Connor’s element of surprise was that Monroe didn’t know where he was inside the palace. It actually surprised him that Monroe wasn’t already out looking for him. He had to find out what he needed to know so that he could warn the Queen.
“One thing at a time,” he whispered to himself. “Just focus.”
He had another secret that he hoped would back up his confidence of what he was about to do. Not only did he seem to be immune to all forms of magic, but during he and Angeline’s time together, he had nipped at her skin once by accident and had the heady experience of savoring her blood. It was like a drug that he found he was wildly addicted to, and the best part was that she didn’t stop him from taking the small sip. She trusted him completely, and he hadn’t pressed the issue even though he wanted more. He was about to test his theory that her blood would give him the ability to escape detection.
He just needed to focus.
Settling onto the bench, Connor forced his shoulders to relax. He leaned back against the cool stone wall behind him. He closed his eyes and calmed his mind. What he was about to do was very delicate. While keeping the rest of his mind closed in ironclad chains, he allowed one small opening where a tendril of conscious thought moved outward. It was so small and thin that he hoped to skim Sophia’s consciousness and simply drag a thought or two back. Then he’d be gone before she would know he was there.