A Crown of Blood and Ashes

by Elle Middaugh

  Making two fists, I pulled at the shadows around me. The lights in the hallway dimmed into tiny orange balls before flickering out. Well, shit. I let go and the lights kicked back on. I was pretty sure that simply turning the lights off didn’t count as shadowing.

  I put my hands on my hips and shook my head, glancing back up the hall to where I’d come from. Lyra might’ve already alerted my parents to my absence. They could’ve even observed my nonattendance themselves. Darren might notice if I didn’t return soon, too. If he came looking for me again, he could land himself in a shitload of trouble.

  I needed to get back.

  Entering the balcony for the second time was a much simpler affair. No spotlights found me. No booming cheers rose up on my account. No smiling act needed to be performed. My gaze scanned the darkened crowd until I found Darren, standing by the stage with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Once I knew he was safe, I allowed my eyes to wander around the massive arena. Lyra was gone, but I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or worried about that. My parents were nowhere in sight, either. An unsettled feeling crept into my chest.

  With Darren currently on the sidelines, and no one to talk to, I carefully perched on the chair and folded my hands.

  Vamp by vamp, match by match, the competition dwindled down.

  I watched Darren taking on vamp after vamp. Some were bigger than him, some were taller, some were pretty fucking terrifying, actually. But every time, he won his match and moved on to the next round.

  Hours passed. My eyelids grew heavy. I could practically feel the bags sagging underneath. It had to have been daylight. I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time, astonished to find it was already late afternoon. No wonder I was tired. Lyra had ensured that I was fed properly, and she’d brought me countless bottles of water, but she couldn’t force me to sleep. There were only two matches left; this one, and the grand finale. The competition was moving along right on schedule, and I couldn’t risk shutting my eyes for a moment.

  Darren removed his hoodie and stood there in all his sculpted glory, waiting to take on the winner of this last match.

  "Three!" the announcer suddenly shouted.

  Which might be any minute now.

  "Two!"

  Darren hopped from foot to foot, anticipating his turn to fight yet again.

  "One! Jax Donovan is moving on to the final round!” The crowd roared excitedly. “Ladies and gentlemen, your finalists are Darren Porter of the Wells Coven and Jax Donovan of the Baron Coven! Get ready to have your shit rocked, because it’s about to go down in ten... nine... eight...”

  Damn it, this was nerve-wracking!

  I stood and began pacing the balcony like a lioness, ready to attack anyone who dared to get in my vampire's way. Too bad I couldn't actually attack anyone if needed. I wished I could just take the stage, declare Darren the winner, and be done with it. If only it were that simple. If only my parents gave a shit about what I wanted. Where the hell were they, anyway? They should’ve been sitting on pins and needles, waiting to kick the next phase of their stupid secret plan into effect.

  The feeling of wrongness settled deeper into my bones.

  "Seven... six... five..."

  Darren leapt onto the stage and took his position across from Jax. For a vamp who’d just completed his fight ten seconds ago, he looked extremely fresh. It instantly sent my nerves into high gear, eating away at my skin and the lining of my stomach.

  “Four... three... two...”

  This was it. The end of the end. After watching them rush through the event at such a breakneck pace, I finally realized how unfair the whole thing was. Maybe it didn't bother Darren or the rest of the vampires, but I had a feeling my parents were trying to set them up for failure. They might've been supernaturally durable or whatever, but they still needed some time to heal before getting their faces smashed in again.

  Time was just, unfortunately, the one thing they did not have on their side.

  "One!" the announcer shouted.

  And as the first blood was spilled, the grand finale began.

  11

  Darren

  I wiped the back of my hand across my bloodied bottom lip. The son of a bitch was fast. Almost too fast. I hated being the first to bleed.

  Pushing down all the volatile nerves in my body, I focused on my breathing. I needed calm and focus. It was a hard-learned lesson over the course of centuries, but one I was glad to have mastered: being able to mute my emotions, to zero in on the target no matter what was going on around or inside me. I might not have killed very often, but I’d certainly been in my fair share of brawls. Varek had seen to it that our entire coven trained daily, just in case. He was always thinking ahead. It just finally paid off this weekend.

  Jax over there was doing a great job at being distracting, waving his arms and feigning jabs at random, but it wasn't enough to catch me off guard. Not this time. I was too hyperfocused on winning this fucking thing to worry about much else.

  I lunged at him, slamming his cheek with my fist, and an arc of blood sprayed across the stage. Quickly, I jabbed his ribs and side, hoping to take him down as quickly and effortlessly as possible, but he corkscrewed away from me and got back into a fighting stance.

  We circled one another calculatingly. He threw me a few half-assed punches, testing the waters, gauging my reaction time. I punched right back, but actually made contact with his chest, knocking him backward a couple of feet.

  He came at me again, fists swinging. I jerked my head back and out of reach, calmly waiting for the right moment. The next time he swung, I’d drop his dumb ass.

  He reared back, and just as planned, I dove to the floor. Shifting the full weight of my lower body, I whipped my legs in a half circle and prepared to knock him flat on his ass. But he didn’t fall for it. He skipped over my legs like a jump rope, and threw a bone-shattering punch into the side of my calf.

  I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, but a loud growl roared up my throat nonetheless. I knew full well that I needed to get back up, but I was pretty damn sure my shin was broken. Until it healed, I was a sitting duck.

  Jax turned to the audience and waved his arms, fanning their flames, finally coaxing their cheers to rise even louder. Everyone loved a good fight after all. Even one between vampires.

  “Take him out! Take him out!” the crowd shouted, demanding blood.

  Emboldened by their roars of support, Jax smiled smugly and strolled toward me.

  I pushed to my hands and knees, and tried to lurch out of striking range, but he landed a swift kick to my gut. My abs clenched just in time, so instead of rolling across the stage, I was able to hold my ground. When his foot made contact again, I grabbed it and twisted hard. This time, he went down as expected.

  As he hissed and cradled his now rubbery-looking ankle, I slid backward and set the bones in my leg. They snapped, crunching into place with a sharp pain that quickly muted into the tingling numbness of healing. A few more seconds. Just a few more, and I’d be back up like nothing ever happened.

  But to my surprise, Jax shakily rose, putting all his weight on his good leg.

  Lips thin, brows furrowed, I stood too even though my leg was in considerably better shape. Apparently the bastard had a death wish.

  He hopped toward me, throwing a punch at my cheek, and nearly fell off-balance. I dodged it effortlessly. He hobbled closer again, but this time he attacked with vampire speed, hurling punch after punch at whichever of my body parts he could reach. I scrambled backward, blocking his blows with my forearms, until he hopped right into me and knocked us both to the ground. His hands found my throat and he squeezed tightly with the grip of a man who knew he had to end it then and there, or his shot at winning would be over.

  I stabbed my knuckles into his forearms, but his fierce hold wouldn’t loosen. So instead, I grabbed his throat and choked the son of a bitch right back.

  “Three!” the announcer boomed with excitement.
<
br />   I was pinned. The countdown had begun.

  The air supply in my lungs dwindled, and I felt the strength of my muscles draining. Black dots winked in and out of my vision, and my breath whooshed loudly in my ears. The world blurred, and Jax’s image doubled. Two veins—or was it one?—throbbed dangerously under the skin of his forehead. I blinked, thrashing my head to try and channel some of that focus I was so proud of at the beginning of the fight, but apparently my body wasn't on board with the idea. I was on the verge of passing out.

  “Two!”

  Get your shit together, Darren! I ordered myself.

  This was it. My final chance. I was literally one breath—or lack thereof—from either winning or losing this competition. My eyes floated up to where a hazy Autumn was leaning out over the balcony banister, screaming and sobbing like mad. No one could even hear her. But seeing her beautiful face reminded me of what I stood to lose. Her.

  I mustered every last ounce of strength I had left and punched Jax in the side of the head. My knuckles sank into his temple, and he dropped instantly.

  Gasping, I sucked in huge gulps of air as I climbed on top of him and held him down. He was out cold, but with a vampire’s healing abilities, he could’ve come back to at any moment. Thankfully, he didn’t.

  "Three... two... one!” the announcer shouted wildly. “Ladies and gentlemen, witches, mages, and vampires, it is with immense pleasure that I present to you, your victor: Darren Porter of the Wells Coven!"

  12

  Darren

  I won....

  The daze was overwhelming.

  I won, I told myself with more certainty. Just like I said I would.

  But I could still barely believe it. I'd told Autumn that a vampire’s endurance was fantastic, but fuck, that had been a long night.

  As soon as the announcer was finished, I was ushered off stage and into the showers.

  There was supposed to be a big party afterwards, with alcohol and dancing. While I certainly wasn’t opposed to getting absolutely pissed, I had literally zero desire to prance around a dance floor in the company of my enemies. There was only one witch I wanted to see, and that was my now future wife.

  My eyes widened at the thought. I could hardly believe it was real.

  When I emerged, clean and mostly healed, there was a suit waiting for me. With nothing but bloody black sweatpants as an alternative, I tugged the damn thing on. Catching my reflection in a mirror, I couldn’t deny that I looked good—damn good—even though I much preferred jeans and a T-shirt. I wondered what Autumn would think of the change. Would it turn her on? Getting her hot and bothered seemed to be my favorite activity lately.

  I strolled up the same dimly lit hallway as before, looking for her. I hadn’t forgotten our plan to meet up after the competition. I just hadn’t been expecting that this time the hall would be swarming with people. Eyes were on me from every direction. Everyone seemed to be interested in the vampire who’d won their princess’s hand.

  Autumn was tucked into the same quiet corner as before, anxiously watching the people as they passed. I had to hide my smile. I didn't need anyone getting more curious than they already were.

  I eyed her carefully before bowing and extending my hand.

  "Your Highness. Wonderful to finally meet you."

  She paused, but didn't miss another beat as she slipped her hand into mine.

  "Congratulations, champion."

  "Please, call me Darren."

  She curtsied. "All right. Darren. Would you like to escort me to the party? Get to know the fascinating woman you're about to be wed to?"

  My eyes twinkled, I could feel it. "I'd love to. But I must admit, a party is the last place I feel like being after these past twenty-four hours.”

  She smiled and slid her arm through mine. "Good. I was hoping we might take a little detour, anyway."

  She led the way through the hall, steering us in the opposite direction of everyone else.

  "And where to, Princess?"

  "The shop of an old friend."

  A few minutes later we entered the shop in question. I leaned back before entering, and took another look at the sign above the door. Lady Deidra’s.

  It was dark outside, and actually quite chilly. Fall weather was strange like that. Hot enough to melt you during the day, but cold enough to freeze you at night.

  A bell sounded as we entered, and I immediately clenched my fists. I was on edge, though I hadn’t realized it until right then. I'd never been so deep in a witch's den before. I was a little freaked out, if I was being honest.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, Autumn wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down into an anxious kiss. She seemed to feel much more at ease now that we were off the streets, but me on the other hand... I was still a loosely corked bottle of nerves.

  Still, her eagerness made me smile.

  "What are we doing here?"

  She took my hand and pulled me through the posh little store, past a curtain of dangling crystal beads and into a small back room. Here, the vibe was almost bohemian. An older woman sat at a small table, having a cup of something hot. Her dark hair was shiny, and she wore a floral dress that complemented her brown skin nicely.

  She smiled, revealing straight white teeth. "He lived."

  Autumn nodded excitedly and squeezed my hand a little tighter. "He did. And he won."

  The old woman gazed up at me. "Congratulations, Darren Porter. I've heard so much about you."

  That surprised the shit out of me. I shot a crooked glance at my new betrothed. "Yeah? All good things, I hope?"

  The old lady threw her head back and laughed while Autumn giggled.

  "Yes," Autumn said, pulling us both down into a set of chairs. "Lady Deidra is the reason you're alive. She's the one who gave me the potion that saved your life."

  I turned back to this Deidra character and extended my hand. "I appreciate your kindness, Lady Deidra. That couldn't have been an easy decision for you."

  She smiled and shook her head. "Easy as pie, in fact."

  "Is that right?"

  Autumn leaned in and whispered in my ear, "She was in love with a vampire before."

  Well. I could only imagine exactly how that turned out. The fact that she was still alive was a testament to how good she was at concocting potions. They wouldn’t have kept her around, otherwise.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," I said, settling on the obvious answer.

  She nodded. "And I am happy for your victory. Princess Autumn has a good heart. I trust you'll take care of it back at your coven?"

  I put my hand to my chest. "I swear on my life."

  "Not a very solid promise," Autumn teased, "considering you have no life to swear on."

  I grinned and leaned back in my chair. "Right. Well, I swear it on my honor. Is that any better? Probably not."

  Autumn laughed, eyeing me adoringly. It was an interesting look, one that warmed my insides rather than igniting them. I reached over and squeezed her hand.

  "Thank you for introducing me to your friend," I said. "But I think it's time to go."

  Her grip slackened. "To the dance?"

  "About that...,” I said, voice trailing off. “I don't think that's such a good idea."

  "Good. I don't either. I don't trust my parents."

  I released a loud breath. "Thank God. So you're cool with just leaving now?"

  "Well, I'll have to have a servant grab my bags. And—"

  Suddenly I froze. A sound entered my ears from behind us. Not in the store, but still on the street. Footsteps skirted around the perimeter, possibly looking for another entry point. Perhaps one that didn't sound off a bell? I squinted, straining my ears to focus harder.

  "Is there a back door?" I asked Deidra, cutting Autumn off midsentence.

  She frowned, instantly picking up on my tension. "Yes. Why?"

  I nodded behind us. "Someone's out there. Wait here."

  I rose from the chair and stalked sou
ndlessly to the next room back. A thin door stood hidden in a corner, surrounded by stacks of junk and knickknacks. There was a tiny window in the wood, but it was faux-frosted. All I could see was a shadow moving a few feet beyond. Taking a steadying breath, I whipped the door open, grabbed the intruder by the neck, and threw them onto the floor inside the door.

  Recognition blazed through my memory as I stared at the girl by my feet.

  "Lyra?" I asked. My accent made the name sound even more putrid than I intended.

  "Vampire," she mocked back.

  "Lyra?" Autumn squealed, as she grabbed the hem of her dress and ran over. "What the ever-loving hell are you doing here?"

  The servant stood, dusted off her ratty gown, and jabbed a finger toward the door. "Bringing our suitcases. I had a feeling you'd try to steal away in secret, so I followed you."

  I hadn't missed a beat. "Our suitcases? You must be mistaken."

  She smirked acerbically. "King and queen's orders. I am to accompany the princess and continue my duty of tending to her every need—regardless of the setting."

  I rubbed my bottom lip as I thought. Varek wouldn't be happy about that. Hell, I wouldn't be either. This servant had a way of getting under my skin and on my last nerve.

  Autumn huffed. "Tell my parents I don't need a babysitter."

  The indignant tone she used actually countered her point, but whatever. I was just glad she was fighting it. I didn't want to be around Miss Lyra with a ten-foot pole.

  "Their word is final, Princess," she said. She had a devilish look in her eye, one that said she only barely kept from grinning at our discomfort. "I've already tried to argue it. You think I want to be thrown into a pit of vipers? No. But here we are...."

  I ran my hands through my hair and shook my head. "Whatever. We'll ditch her on the way."