by E. M. Knight
Logan spins around, eyes bulging, a thick vein pulsing in his neck. “Who DARES disturb me now?”
On the doorstep stands the only vampire in the entire coven who can remain unperturbed at facing the King’s wrath.
The Ancient.
He ignores the King, and looks right at me, his eyes going to the new mark on my face. A flicker of concern shows then—so fast that if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was imagined.
But ever since collaborating with me on the attack against The Haven, the Ancient has shown a certain protectiveness over me. It’s been very subtle, of course, and probably indistinguishable to most—but I feel it.
Without answering, he steps inside and closes the door. Putting his hand behind his back, he stops and waits beside one of the many pillars dotting the room.
Logan grunts. He knows he’s not going to get anything out of The Ancient unless the most-revered vampire decides to volunteer it himself.
“Turn your attention away from James,” Beatrice suggests. “You did not call Riyu here for that.”
“No,” the King agrees. “I did not. You are right.”
What did he call me for? I wonder.
He looks again at me. Hesitation, a trait I have never seen from the King—crosses his features.
Then it’s gone, and he speaks.
“You were near this girl, Eleira. Eleira. Is that right?”
I nod.
“And you were also somewhere in the vicinity of their Queen?”
Once more, I nod.
“So tell me. Is what James said true? Is Eleira the one? Does she rival the Queen in strength?”
“Yes,” I say immediately.
“As both a vampire… and a witch?”
Again, I nod. “She does.”
“Then she is the one we need with us!” Logan exclaims. “A witch of her power, on our side, wielding the most powerful torrial in existence… we will cloak the world in eternal night, our race will rise above the scourge of humanity that currently possesses the world, and we will become the dominant species…! Yes, yes, yes, yes!” The King’s sudden zeal shows no signs of stopping. “Yes, she is the one we need!”
“She must come willingly, my Lord,” Beatrice volunteers. “She cannot be forced to it. It is a process—”
“That will take time, yes, yes, yes,” he finishes hastily. “First, we need her here.”
He turns to me. “Relay a message to The Haven. Tell them Eleira must come. Tell them, she must come… or our offer of peace is void.”
Chapter Thirty
SMITHSON
DEEP BENEATH THE HAVEN
The doors to my holding cell come open. Phillip steps inside.
He walks in without any reinforcements.
On his own, just like this… I could crush him. The cloaking spell cast on me by the Order’s witches still remains. None, except for James, know the truth of my strength.
It’s a pity, really, that I must be patient and temper my hate. I know my vengeance will come. I know I will get my revenge.
But I know that if I do anything stupid now, my entire position—with Carter, with the Queen, with everybody in The Haven—will be completely ruined.
So I bite down my anger at this… this boy… who stripped me of my rank and stole my post. Instead, I assume the most subdued attitude I can.
I look at him, and ask, “How can I help?”
Phillip stops and looks me over. There’s judgment in his eyes and a new sort of curiosity… or maybe interest.
“I want to know what you told Victoria,” he says, “When she came to free you.”
“Certainly,” I incline my head. “I told her she was a fool for trying to help me. I told her that my place was here, and that despite recent… circumstances, my loyalty to The Haven remains unshifting.”
The boy eyes me. “Why,” he wonders, “do you claim such loyalty?”
He pulls a stepstool closer to where I’m bound and sits on it. “Your betrayal has already been discovered. The thirteen vampires you brought with you have all abandoned you. Yet here you remain.”
“There was no betrayal,” I reply.
“No? Then why did you bring them in? Why did they all run when you fell?”
“Can you truly not see the bigger picture?” I shake my head. “The Queen appointed me Captain Commander of The Haven’s guards. When I first came, I knew none of your men. How could I guarantee their loyalty, their discipline, their trust in me?” I sit down on the cot. “I could not. Trust had to be earned. Discipline, that could be taught. But loyalty? That was essential, and it would take the longest to develop.”
I give a shrug. “I needed men I could trust, especially after the attack, so I brought in my own. Simple as that.”
“So, why did they run,” Phillip asks, “if it really is as simple as you claim?”
“Everyone fears uncertainty,” I respond. “When they saw what fate had befallen me, they rightfully became concerned with what might happen to them. After all,” I give a grim smile. “They know about your Mother’s paintings.”
Before, the mere hint of those things would have made Phillip wince. Yet now, he remains stoic.
Is that a sign of his maturity, perhaps? I reach out with my mind to gauge his strength. He is stronger than before… but at the expected, regular rate. His progress has not been expedited by external factors that I can tell.
“They wouldn’t have run if they didn’t have secrets,” Phillip says. “You’re going to tell me what those secrets are… and why they might give enough motivation for your vampires to leave their place of safety in the most coveted coven in the world.”
I can’t control the reflux of disdain that comes from his words. “Safety?” I snort. “They heard what happened to two of their own. You think with the demon on the loose, any of them would feel safe?”
“The Narwhark is an equal threat to all of us,” he says. “It picks its victims without distinction.”
“So you assume.”
“So I know.”
“Maybe, then, the vampires who left, who concern you so, do not share that opinion,” I suggest. “Maybe they are more cautious when it comes to risking their lives. Or maybe, just maybe, they realized The Haven is not so valuable as it once was. The wards are gone. Their commander has been reduced to this.” I look down at my stained shirt and cotton pants. “Look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would stick around in a hostile, unfamiliar place in a time of turmoil. They had no security, Phillip. They just valued their lives.”
He shakes his head. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”
“You’re going in circles.”
“You’re leading me there.”
“I admit,” I say loftily, “that I don’t precisely mind. It gets lonely in this cell without visitors.”
“You’ve seen Carter,” Phillip says.
I blink in a moment of surprise. Has the fool vampire already reneged on our agreement?
“You didn’t think I’d know,” Phillip observes. “That tells me something.”
“All it would do is fuel your baseless suspicions against me,” I snarl. Inwardly, I curse and reprimand myself for once again losing control.
What is it about the youngest Soren brother that so easily incites my rage?
“You consider him an ally, do you not?” Phillip questions. He moves closer to me. “He has always been one to try gouging out any advantage he could. He saw you rise. He saw you fall. But you do not know Carter the same way I do. You do not know what he is capable of.”
Phillip stands. “A suggestion, if I may? Next time Carter comes to speak to you… refuse him. I would hate to prosecute another member of the Royal Court for going behind my back.”
On that note, Phillip turns around and makes as if to leave. But, right on the door’s threshold, he stops.
“I came to inform you that there’s been another Narwhark attack. It happened in plain sight, before all the members of
the Royal Court and gallery. The creature moves fast—we did not see it come or go.”
“You’re telling me that your guard is failing?”
“No,” he says. “I’m telling you how easy it would be for the demon to find, and kill, a lone prisoner. Much like it found, and killed, Patricia.”
“You’re threatening me,” I say, my voice cold and hard.
“An objective observation of fact differs very much from a threat, Smithson.” Phillip opens the door. “Have a good rest tonight. You’ll need it for when you’re called before the Royal Court tomorrow.
“You will stand trial for treason.”
Chapter Thirty-One
PHILLIP
OUTSIDE THE HOLDING CELLS
As soon as I round the corner and am out of view of the vampire standing guard outside Smithson’s cell, I stop, lean against the wall, and run a tired hand over my eyes.
I went in there to try and extract answers… and all I got was a big, fat nothing.
In truth, seeing Smithson was just a diversion. A stupid one, at that. After the argument with Raul, I felt the need, deep inside, to exert my dominance. To feel some small semblance of the power that my post as Captain Commander should bring.
I satisfied that urge challenging the man.
Yet everything else is in disarray. We are helpless to stop the Narwhark. I’ve ordered The Haven’s vampires to take as many precautions as possible, but I know that can only be a sham, little more than mere theatrics.
After all, if the demon can strike at the Queen, out in the open, what chance do the rest of us have?
I did not realize how exhausting being responsible for the safety of so many others could be.
But it’s all about appearance. I have to maintain the illusion of safety… even if I know how flimsy it really is.
Realistically? The Haven vampires aren’t stupid. Both the Elite and the Incolam—those vampires not of the Elite—know what happened. They know who it happened to. They know their own strengths. They know their weaknesses.
If the most experienced vampire in our company can be brought down by a creature from the underworld, odds are not so good for the rest of us.
And yet they need a leader. They need somebody to look up to. With Mother in her coma, and Raul about to leave… the responsibility falls onto me.
Strange, how the tables have turned.
I decide to go see Eleira. Maybe she has some insight about the Narwhark.
But when I open the door to her room, I find her scribbling furiously on a lined piece of paper. Her neat, precise handwriting fills more than three-quarters of the page.
She looks up with a start. “Oh, Phillip,” she says. “It’s you. You frightened me.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” I begin. Then I notice the red around her eyes, the faint flush in her cheeks.
“Have you been crying?” I ask, going straight to her side.
She looks away. “Is it that obvious?” she asks softly.
“It’s about Raul, isn’t it? Look, I know my brother has been a real jerk—”
“It’s not Raul,” she whispers.
“Oh.” I feel like an idiot. “I shouldn’t have assumed. Then what?”
She hesitates for a moment and looks at me. “I can trust you,” she asks, her eyes full of earnest pleading, “can’t I?”
I place my hand over hers. “Of course,” I say.
“I don’t know if I would share this with Raul. But you’ve become almost like a brother to me. Some things require… a certain degree of understanding between two people, to be revealed.”
“I understand,” I say. “That is very wise.”
She nods and pulls out a small envelope addressed to her. She hands it to me. “Read that,” she says.
She waits in silence until I finish the letter. When I’m done, I look at her through my glasses. “Wow,” I say. “That’s… heavy.”
As carefully as I can, I fold her mother’s letter up and give it back to her. I know how important this is to her, so I add, “I will never betray your trust with this, Eleira.”
She gives a small nod of appreciation. “Do you know what she means? About the true circumstances of my birth?”
I exhale. “Unfortunately, no. The Queen told us where to find you. And Raul is the one who studied the stars. Yet even he consulted with her about your… whereabouts.” I give an uncomfortable shrug. “Before your arrival, I mostly avoided participating in… anything to do with you.” I give a sour chuckle. “Look at me now.”
“So you don’t know anything?” she asks.
“The Queen is the only one who would,” I say grimly. I hate drawing attention to her when she’s in her current state. “How did you get that letter, anyway?”
“Carter gave it to me,” she says.
“Carter?” I frown. “He hasn’t left The Haven personally for hundreds of years.”
“Someone else must have given it to him, then. Right?”
“I’d assume so.”
“What about the man the letter mentioned. Do you know who that could be?”
“No. But Carter and my Mother never exactly saw eye-to-eye. For him to get this letter… well, I’d bet anything that at least one other of the Elite knows something.”
For a moment, hope gleams in Eleira’s eyes.
“…but we have no way of discovering who,” I finish. “I don’t think you’d want to bring extra attention to yourself now.”
“No,” Eleira shivers. “I definitely do not.” She looks down at the desk. “I’m writing her a response now. Do you think… would you help me get it to her?”
“I’ll certainly do all that I can,” I promise. “That I guarantee.”
“Thank you.”
“You could…” I hesitate. I don’t know if I should say this or not.
In the end, I decide to speak my mind.
“You could go see her yourself, you know.” I gesture around us. “Once all this is over.”
She smiles at me sadly. “No, Phillip. I don’t think I can.”
“Why not?”
“It would be too painful. The way she said goodbye last time I saw her, when my parents dropped me off to the airport to go to university—she knew. I didn’t realize it at the time. I didn’t sense that there was anything off. But she knew, she knew that it could be the last time she ever saw me.
“I don’t want her to deal with that twice. The grief it would cause, her sorrow?” Eleira shakes her head. “It would be like opening an old wound. Her letter gives me reassurance and peace of mind.”
“How so?” I ask gently.
“Because I know my parents aren’t worried. I mean they’re probably concerned, as anyone would be, but not worried-worried. Like they’re not scared, you know?” She huffs. “I’m doing a terrible job at explaining myself.”
“No, no. I totally get it.”
“They knew to expect this,” she finishes. “So it’s almost a blessing, not a curse. And…” she looks up and meets my eye, “…And, I mean, honestly… do you think this will ever be over? I mean, truly over?”
I turn my head away from her.
“We are eternal creatures,” I say after a moment. “Everything about us continues. We linger on. They say change is the only constant in the world. They’re wrong. We are.”
At that, Eleira gives a small smile.
We sit in silence for a bit, appreciating the comfort of each other’s company.
Then Eleira asks, “How is the Queen doing?”
I grunt. “The same as a few hours ago. Her condition hasn’t changed. I have our doctor watching over her. He’s to inform me the moment there’s a change.”
“How would he do that?” she asks. “Would he send a messenger?”
I give a humorless smile and take out my cell phone.
Eleira gasps. “But I thought—”
“That vampires are antique, that we eschew technology?” I give a sly smile. “It’s The Haven’s humans who h
ave no conception of the outside world. You’ll find most vampires prefer the tried-and-true methods of communication, yes… but we are not averse to modern luxuries.
“There’s no cellular reception this far underground, but I set up a secure Wi-Fi network down here to communicate on. The cell phone is like a walkie-talkie. Mother’s wards used to block electronic signals from penetrating The Haven. That’s why you didn’t see more of these devices in the hands of our vampires before we had to retreat underground.”
“Looks like there’s lots I still don’t know,” Eleira says. Suddenly, her head whips around, toward the door. “What was that?”
There’s real alarm in her voice. I’m on my feet in an instant. “What was what?”
“You don’t hear that?” She runs to the door. “Somebody is calling for help!”
I strain my ears. I don’t pick up anything but silence. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She grabs my hand and pulls me out the room. “Come on!”
Together we run through the dark halls. Everything is so quiet and still. But Eleira’s sudden concern has me watching the shadows for any hint of movement.
I don’t pick up anything. Eleira’s senses are stronger than mine, to be sure, but I’ve been a vampire much, much longer. She and I should be on equal footing in this scenario because of that.
Yet we’re not. She runs down the hall with a single-minded purpose. It doesn’t take long for me to recognize where we’re going.
The holding cells. The place I had just left.
She skids to a halt as she rounds the corner to Smithson’s door. Alarm rips through me when I see the two guards who had been posted there earlier.
Their throats have been savagely ripped out.
“The Narwhark,” I breathe.
Eleira, showing a flair of fearlessness, does not hesitate in the slightest as she starts for the door. She throws her shoulder into it, and it crashes open.
On the other side, I find a scene straight out of hell.
The Narwhark, blood staining its front, has Smithson backed into a corner. The former Captain Commander has claw marks all over his shoulders and his arms. There are bite marks on his legs, and his vampiric blood streams from a long cut across his forehead.