by Angel Lawson
“I don’t believe he caved on his own. Did you feed from him? Poison him?” I recall the way the venom flowed in my veins. The desire was unbearable. It had to be quenched. In the next second, I snap, pivoting toward Marielle. It’s not the first time I’ve wanted to hurt her, but gods, I want her dead.
Luke lunges at me before I get too far. His arms cinch around me and he whispers in my ear, “Too soon, Valkyrie.”
I squirm against him.
“Daddy,” Marielle says brightly, “you remember Luke.”
“Ah, yes,” the King says, nodding in deference. “It’s good to see you, although I’m surprised this is the side you’ve chosen. Your father must be…displeased.”
Luke’s expression is calm and collected. He slides a hand into his pocket. “Unlike some,” his eyes dart to Marielle’s, “I’m not a fan of being manipulated by my father. I make my own decisions.”
Her smug grin falters before shoring back up. She leans into her father’s side. “And this is my former roommate Hildi, the Valkyrie.”
The king smiles, his eyes assessing. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard you caused quite the upheaval at the Academy. Too bad you and Mari didn’t get along better. Your alliance would have been formidable.”
“Well, when you wake up to a leech sucking your blood in the middle of the night, it’s hard to reestablish trust.”
He gives his daughter an admonishing look. “Self-control doesn’t come easy to my daughter. I’ve spoiled her.”
I dare a glance at Miya, the latest victim of her gluttony. No wonder she had an affinity to Marshal.
“Where is he?” she asks, as though reading my mind.
“Good question,” I reply. “I thought he may end up here as well.”
“As you can see,” the King says, “while you are here you are welcome to take what you want—who you want. In this world there’s no limit. No end to the excess. What do you want? Money? Jewels? Sex?” His eyes sweep over me. “Power? Weapons?”
“We’re here for one thing,” Rupert says, nodding at Miya. “He comes with us.”
The King grins. “You assume he wants to?”
“Yes, I do assume that,” I say with my chin held high. “Release him and we’ll go.”
“The truth that people don’t understand about the Third Circle is that there are no locks on our doors, no chains confining you to a cell. Guests are allowed to leave at any time.” The King scratches his forehead with a disturbingly long fingernail. “Feel free to continue on with your travels.”
The five of us glance at one another, not willing to believe him for a moment. There are actual vampire thugs surrounding us at the moment. But if this is the game he wants to play, I’m willing to give it a shot.
“We’re ready to go, and we’re taking Miya with us.”
He nods Marielle, who pouts as though she’s losing a plaything, but steps aside.
“Just one thing,” the King adds, “you have to ask him if he wants to go.”
It feels like a trap, but I proceed anyway. We came here for Miya, and we’ll leave with him. I walk past the King, feeling dark energy rolling off his body. On my hand are three rings plus my own. I’d stacked them there the night before after giving one to Rupert. I wasn’t going to be caught without my belongings again. I rub my thumb against them, sparking the energy of the bond.
I reach Miya; who is leaning against the seat, unconscious. His hair, loosened from its tie; hangs over his shoulders. He too is in white, his bare chest exposed. Red gashes cut through his pale skin, starting at his collarbone, and I see the red wounds on his neck. They’re sore, giving the impression that he’s been fed on multiple times in the same spot. I touch his forehead—it’s cold and clammy. I don’t hesitate to put the ring on his finger, feeling an immediate tug. It’s faint but there. Bending, I say, “Miya, it’s Hildi, I need you to wake up.”
He doesn’t move, in fact, I’m not sure he’s even breathing. I press my fingers to his chest searching for a heartbeat. It’s faint.
I spin and grind out, “What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?”
“Did you know that a Samurai’s blood has an extra kick?” Marielle’s eyes flick to Armin and Rupert as she licks her teeth. “But really, I wonder if it’s the immortality running through their blood; whatever power Camulus cursed you with, is refreshingly delicious.”
My resolve, which had been hanging by a very thin thread since we walked into the room, snapped. I reach between my thighs, pulling out the sharp blade strapped between my legs. Before I even have a good grip, Rupert and Armin are already in motion, our movements nearly choreographed. I fling the blade across the room, targeted at Marielle’s neck. Armin lunges for the King, and Rupert begins his assault on the guards. Behind them, Luke and Elizabeth jump to action, and the entire room is in a brawl.
Marielle blocks the blade and it skitters across the room. She moves lightning-fast, fueled on vampire speed, wrapping her hands around my neck. They’re small but powerful, her nails pushing into my skin. She holds me from behind, where I have a clear view of Armin getting tossed across the room by her father, and Rupert taking punch after punch. Luke holds his own against one of the guards, he’s quick and the glint in his eye tells me he loves a fight. Elizabeth, our weakest fighter, with only a few weeks of solid training, struggles with her opponent. She’s backed in a corner, the vampire’s teeth bared, when she closes her eyes and mutters under her breath. A sword magically appears in her hands and she swings it expertly, chopping off his head in one clean cut.
She grins, pleased with her move, until two more vampires corner her. Her hand starts to shake, the blade wobbly.
Marielle’s breath is cold on my ear. “You’re not going to win,” she whispers. Armin is back on his feet, going for the king again. He uses his powers, tossing objects his way, candles, glasses, a chair. Each time, the king knocks them away easily. “We’re going to wear you down, then drain you all of every drop of blood, slowly and painfully.”
“And what? Kill us?”
She laughs, and I have a flash of memory of her standing over me in that dormitory hallway on my hands and knees, fingers bleeding from picking up the glass that she dropped.
“Gods no, we can’t kill you, Hildi. No one can. That’s now how this game is played. There’s only one ending and you have to be there to see it through.” Her hands tighten and I struggle against her, fighting for air. “But, we can break you, use you, feed from you, until that day comes.”
Black spots hover over my eyes and I feel the graze of her teeth over my skin. A shudder runs through me; my body both wanting and fearing the plunge of her teeth. The venom, it’s overwhelming, consuming.
My gaze lands on Miya—spent and lost. If we don’t get out of here, and fast, we’ll all become like him and when it’s time to go to the City of Dis, that’s what we’ll be like. Weak and compromised. Across the room Armin is also caught in a headlock, while Rupert is pinned to the floor. Luke has blood pouring from his mouth, my dagger, dripping with blood, in his hand. Elizabeth no longer has her sword, instead it’s pressed against her throat by a massive vampire, baring his teeth.
My body falls limp, the loss of oxygen making it through my limbs, and Marielle tosses me across the room. I land with a crash against a table, my head banging into the wall. The sound of a shattering glass filters through the fog and I blink, barely awake.
I see Marielle coming—walking slowly, her hips swaying as she eyes me like her next meal. I scramble to get on my feet, for leverage, for something…and my fingers graze something pointed and sharp. I pick it up, feeling the slipperiness of blood, and hold the piece of mirror in front of me.
The Vampire Princess laughs. “You think that’ll stop me?”
I swallow, knowing it won’t. I tilt the mirror until I can see my eye reflected back and take a shot in the dark, whispering, “Help.”
“There’s no help here, Valkyrie. Just gluttony that leads to pain, that leads to desperation…” She looks
at her father, who smiles proudly. “Begging actually makes your blood sweeter. Did you know that?”
Again, I look into the mirror while balling my hand in a fist. Warmth surges from the ring, surging up my arm. A shadow moves in the mirror and again I plea, “We need your help.”
I don’t feel Marielle’s hand as she lifts me off the table, but I do see her dark soulless eyes. I hear the screams of my allies, my lovers, as the vampires descend.
And then, just before the pain, I feel nothing.
22
Luke
One minute I’m getting my ass kicked, the next I’m standing in a dark cabin staring at my four perplexed allies. Miya is on the floor, still unconscious. Hildi and Rupert both drop to the ground to check on him. I run my eyes over her to make sure she’s okay. Physically, yes. Emotionally…only the gods know.
“What the hell happened?” I ask, glancing down at the blade in my hand. It’s Hildi’s and it’s covered in vampire blood. I drop it on the wooden table a few feet away.
“I called to the Guardians for help,” Hildi says, trying to rouse Miya. “Sometimes Morgan comes to me through mirrors. My ring—it acts like a conduit or something.” She shakes the Samurai. “He’s not waking up.”
“He’s not going to,” a voice says. I reach for the dagger but stop when I see the face in the mirror.
“Professor Christensen?” Hildi asks. I stare at the man who I know as an ally of the Guardians. He had once been an administrator at the Academy. He’d vanished when Hildi killed Headmaster Gardener and Roland took over.
“It’s me,” he replies, “although not in the flesh.”
“Where are you? Where are we?” Armin asks.
“You’re in a safehouse inside Hell.”
“There’s a safehouse in Hell?” I ask, never having heard of this.
“It’s off the grid. A place for souls to hide while doing the gods' work. It’s for very limited use.” He glances at me. “Somewhere your father can’t see.”
Hildi stands and approaches the mirror. “What did you mean when you said Miya won’t wake up?”
He looks at the unconscious Immortal. “As you know, Miya is a man of incredible resolve. Years of enslavement and torture allowed him to create defense mechanisms to protect his body and soul. In the Third Circle, he pushed himself not to succumb to the vampire’s gluttony; fighting against the venom of desire and want. He retreated somewhere deep, somewhere inside his mind that he’s unable to withdraw from.”
“You’re saying he mediated himself to safety,” Rupert says.
“Something like that. He’s deep in a protective state.”
“How do we get him out of there?” Hildi asks.
“You can’t, and even if you did, it is physically and emotionally draining. He’d be of no use in the fight.”
The Valkyrie’s expression turns panicked. She reaches for his hand and touches the silver ring. “But we need him…it has to be all six of us to make this work. That’s what Morgan told me. That’s why she gave me these rings!”
“I’m sorry,” Christensen says. “But Miya is of no use to you, not now.”
She ignores him, bending over the warrior and kissing him on the lips. The whole room waits to see if her touch can pull him from his sleep, like some kind of fairytale, but the Samurai doesn’t move. He’s lost deep in his mind, so far that even the touch of his mate can’t draw him out.
Tears prick at her eyes when she looks up and Armin moves to comfort her. He looks at the mirror and asks, “What do we do now? We can’t leave him unprotected.”
“He’s one of the gods' chosen. They’ll get him to safety.”
“Then what about the rest of us? If we’re one short, how do we win this thing?”
The Professor’s eyebrows raise. “Have you ever heard, ‘When God closes a door, he opens a window?’”
“From the Bible, Romans, 8:23,” Rupert says.
Christensen nods. “There’s always a window.”
His reflection shimmers and Hildi gasps, drawing our attention to her. Miya, who was in her arms one moment, fades the same way the professor had, vanishing into thin air.
She crumbles against Armin, and he holds her tight, while Rupert’s expression is grim. When I turn, I see that Elizabeth is watching me quietly, as though I’m the interesting part of this scene.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Nothing,” she replies, her mouth twisted knowingly, “just searching for the window.”
23
Hildi
If I’d questioned the intensity of the bond, the legitimacy, that ends the minute Miya’s body is taken from this realm.
It felt like I’ve been cleaved in two, part of my body—my soul—torn off. The damage instantly feels irreparable. Like a lost limb, or worse, an organ.
A warm hand settles on my shoulder, the weight heavy, but it feels muffled and far away.
“Hil,” Armin says, his voice grave. “It’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. The Guardians, they’ll…”
I pull away and exhale. “I just need a minute, okay. Give me a fucking minute.”
He lifts his hands in surrender. Elizabeth and Luke hang on the edges of the room, obviously unsure of how to proceed with my nervous breakdown.
“How about we rest for the night, then regroup in the morning,” Rupert suggests. “Luke, I’d like to discuss strategy about what’s coming next.”
The Nephilim nods and the two of them move to a small table in the corner.
“I can make some food,” Elizabeth offers helpfully. There’s a small kitchen against one wall. Canned goods line the shelves. Christensen said it was a safehouse. It’s clearly stocked for people to be here for a while. Armin watches me closely and it feels like the walls of the room are closing in, once again, making it hard to breathe. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll go—”
“Alone,” I say to Armin, who was ready to follow me. My heartbeats erratically but I feign control. “I need a minute to process, Armin. It’s nothing personal. Just…give me some space.”
He nods, unhappy about it, but he stands back. I cross the small room and enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. There’s a lock and I secure it. In the other room I hear Luke and Rupert speaking quietly and then pots and pans in the small kitchen. A shadow moves under the door, and I have no doubt it’s Armin, lingering just outside, waiting to come in the instant I need him.
But I don’t need him.
If I have to do this without Miya, then I may need to do this without Armin and Rupert, too. Luke made it clear that every stop for one of the Legion wears me down. That it’s intended to not just exhaust me—but break me. Binding myself to the others was foolish—it was like chaining myself to a sinking ship.
A new plan formulates, one that doesn’t involve as much risk, as much heartache.
Maybe what I really need to do is go straight through the rings, directly to the City of Dis. If Lucifer wants to judge me, I can make it happen a lot faster than getting sidetracked by the Immortals and all their emotional baggage.
I stare down at Armin’s shadow, and wipe the tears from my eyes. Quietly and carefully I go to the paper-covered window and unlatch the lock. It opens easier than I expected, and with a quick glance back, I sling my leg over the windowsill, then lower myself to the ground.
A moment later I’ve secured it back, and I’m running away from the cabin, searching in the dark for a trail, or road, or something to get me back on my mission.
“Where do I go?” I ask, glancing toward the dark night sky. “Help me find my way.”
The clouds part overhead, casting a bright glow across the landscape. A river glints in the distance, confirming that they’re here and listening. That I’m doing the right thing. I say a quick thank you to the gods and head out on my own.
I walk for hours, through the night, the moon lighting my way and the river acting as my guide. The water rus
hes past quickly, and it makes the air cooler, which is good. It keeps me awake. At dawn, I make a bed out of leaves and sleep in the nook of a tree. It’s fitful—lacking in real rest. I’m caught in the circles, a conglomeration of Armin fighting in the arena, Rupert’s court, and the Vampire’s gnashing teeth. It’s afternoon when I wake, coated in a thin layer of sweat. My stomach rumbles as I continue my journey, hopeful that I’m on the right track. No other circle has taken so long to get to—or maybe it just seems longer. Time is elusive and confusing here.
At twilight, I catch a different scent in the air, salty. White and gray seagulls cut through the sky, their cries soft and lost in the wind as they prepare to settle in their nests for the night. Soon, other smells and sounds tickle my senses. Frying foods, the echo of laughter, footsteps on cobble stone streets. The river widens and tall sails jut into the air. Beyond that I see boxy-shaped buildings of a port town.
Is this my destination?
Whatever it is, I plan to stop, eat, and recoup.
Night falls as I enter the town, the streets lined and brightened with gas lamps. It’s a busy place, filled with restaurants and bars, shops with fancy clothing in the windows. I spot a bookstore and a gallery. People dine on patios, the women in small hats perched on their heads. Suddenly I feel self-conscious about my ragged leathers but when I look down, they’re gone. My clothing replaced by a long dress, with a wide skirt that drags the ground. It’s uncomfortable and bulky, but the fabric is made of soft silk. If I hadn’t suspected already, that’s the confirmation I need that yes, I’ve found the fourth circle.
Greed.
That explains the wealth and finery. It also explains, upon further exploration, the darkened alleys dotted with casinos. My fingers graze a small purse slung across my chest. I look and see there is a handful of gold and silver coins inside. A gift from who? Lucifer? One of the gods? Do they want me playing down in the casinos, betting away my money and soul? Too bad for them, I’m a warrior. Money has little use for me for anything other than basics. Right now, even though my appetite is dull, my stomach rumbles in protest. My last meal in the Vampire’s Den. It seems a lifetime ago.