The Vampire Gift 3: Throne of Dust

by E. M. Knight

  The Narwhark is taking its time with him.

  Smithson’s eyes flicker to us. For the first time, I see genuine fear in them.

  But as soon as Eleira enters the room, the Narwhark stops. It turns its head. Then, slowly, the rest of its body follows.

  It has no concern about leaving its back exposed to the vampire it’d been toying with.

  My body tenses. My claws come out. I steel myself, readying for a desperate fight…

  The Narwhark flips its pointed tail and jumps on the bed. The beady eyes, dark as night, are focused solely on Eleira.

  I glance at her and realize with a start that her lips are moving. She’s muttering something, maybe a spell, maybe an incantation, but the treble of it is too low for me to hear. She seems to be transfixed by the Narwhark.

  It, in turn, pays attention only to her.

  The tension builds. It’s like a Mexican standoff.

  Suddenly, Eleira exclaims, “Voltarum Incas!” A blue ball of light explodes from her hands. The Narwhark leaps aside to avoid it.

  But it’s not fast enough. The ball singes its side as it’s in mid-air. The foul smell of demon flesh burning immediately fills the room.

  The Narwhark crashes down hard. With a hissing snarl it rights itself. Its eyes dart from me, to Eleira, and back to Smithson.

  It brings its head back like a roaring lion and emits a piercing screech. Shadows that weren’t there before suddenly fill the room. They stream into the demon, clouding it in darkness.

  The darkness swirls, and the Narwhark is enveloped by it, until its shape is no longer distinguishable from the rest. It happens faster than the time it takes to blink.

  And then, in a black blur, it streams right between me and Eleira and flees the room.

  Once it’s gone Eleira visibly sags. I start to go after it, but she stops me.

  “No,” she says. “You’ll never catch it. Nobody can.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I…” she licks her lip, and looks at Smithson. “Because I can feel it.”

  I step toward her. “What do you mean? Is it like we can feel other vampires?”

  She gives a hesitant nod. “Almost. But not quite. It’s… different.” Again her eyes go to the third vampire in the room. “I’ll tell you later.”

  I nod grimly, then turn my attention to him.

  “This is what you wanted, boy?” Smithson growls. He looks down at his body, at the wounds inflicted unto it by the demon. “You wanted to see me suffer, to see me weak?”

  He ignores Eleira completely. His hatred for me is a palpable thing.

  He takes a step toward us. But his knee buckles. He falls cursing to the ground.

  Eleira gasps. She has softness in her heart after all. But Smithson only laughs.

  “Now I know what fate my two dead men faced,” he snarls. “I pin their deaths on you. You will always be responsible for that. And, one day… revenge will be mine.”

  “He’s delirious,” Eleira says. “The bites are affecting his brain.”

  “I’m not delirious!” he cackles. “That’s a steaming pile of bull—”

  A tremor rocks the earth, cutting him off.

  It’s over in a second. But Eleira’s eyes are wide.

  “They’ve come,” she says in a hushed breath. “I felt it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ELEIRA

  SMITHSON’S CELL

  When the earth shook, a tremendous influx of magical power burst into being, like a star being born.

  It frightened me… but not as much as facing the Narwhark again frightened me.

  Because, in the confrontation with it just now… I felt its growing sentience in my head.

  The spell I used to attack it bubbled up from deep in my subconscious. It’s nothing I’d ever been taught. Saying the words and channeling the magical energy that way was completely instinctual.

  It reminded me… it reminded me, in a way, of the time I’d been possessed by that unknown force.

  There was a difference, of course. The spell Morgan put on my mind as a protective barrier broke the moment she fell. But because of it, I’d been able to learn how to shield my mind—in my own, rudimentary way—and to be able to tell if or when some external force was trying to probe it.

  That’s how I recognized the connection with the demon. A link exists between it and me. I cannot deny that any longer. What it means, how it came to be, or how it’ll affect me in the future, I cannot say.

  But it’s on a level deeper than what I can protect myself against. It’s a part of me, of my psyche, almost like the connection between Victoria and me had been.

  “Who?” Phillip exclaims, breaking me from my reverie. “Who’s come?”

  I look at him. “The other coven,” I say.

  He swears. Smithson laughs.

  “Where?” Phillip demands. He grabs my shoulders. “Eleira, where are they?”

  I raise a hand and point vaguely in the right direction. After casting the spell and attacking the demon, I’m strangely light-headed. A daze has come over me, and the words that come from my lips carry none of the urgency they require.

  “They’ve come…” I mumble, “for Raul.”

  Smithson’s laughter increases. Phillip stares at me in disbelief. “How do you know?”

  “The burst of magic,” I respond. Are these words mine? Is this body mine? “It came from his room.”

  Again Phillip curses. He looks at the bleeding prisoner. I smell the blood from Smithson’s wounds, smell their rife corruption as his body tries to fight the demon saliva infecting them.

  “We have to go help,” Phillip says. “Eleira—” then he notices, really notices, my vacant daze. “Eleira, what’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “It’s nothing,” I lie. “I just feel a bit… numb.”

  Did casting that spell take so much out of me?

  “You’re not like yourself.” I can tell Phillip is itching to go. I should be, too. But for whatever reason, I cannot muster up the requisite determination. “Eleira? Eleira!”

  Phillip’s voice grows increasingly distant. I can see him, but it’s like he’s yelling at me from across an enormous canyon. There’s a gulf, a dissociation from reality that seems to be coming over me.

  It feels like hours pass. And yet, as I look from Phillip’s concerned face, down to Smithson’s laughing form, I know that no time has lapsed at all.

  What is happening to me? Why do I feel so… out of it?

  “Eleira. Eleira!” Phillip keeps calling my name. “Eleira, we have to go!”

  “Raul…” I say. The last tendrils of magic are fading from the air. As they wither away, so does the discombobulation that fills my head.

  In a flash, all of it is gone. I’m jerked right back to myself.

  “Raul’s in trouble!” I exclaim. “We have to go to him!”

  Phillip immediately agrees. I start out the doors in the direction I felt the rip in reality, that gaping hole…

  But on seeing the two slaughtered guards outside, I come to a complete halt. “What about Smithson?” I ask. “We can’t leave him behind. Why aren’t there more guards? Phillip, where are all the other vampires?”

  “In their rooms,” Phillip says grimly. “Where they are supposed to be safe. But if the demon could do this and get to a prisoner…”

  He doesn’t finish the thought. Instead, he turns back and heaves Smithson up. “We’re taking him with us.”

  I don’t have time to argue or disagree. I just run back and put my arms under Smithson’s other shoulder to help Phillip carry him.

  Just like that, the three of us race in the direction of Raul’s rooms. Smithson is a dead weight, but between Phillip and me, he does not slow us much.

  The entire underground is eerily quiet. Quiet, still, and silent.

  It’s spooky.

  We arrive. Raul’s door is closed. Within is exactly the spot I felt the flare of magic from.

  �
�Put me down, put me down,” Smithson coughs. “I won’t be any use to you in there, even if I am on your side.”

  “That,” Phillip grumbles, “remains to be seen.”

  We lower Smithson. Phillip looks at me. “Ready?”

  I nod.

  “If my brother’s in there,” Phillip says. “Then I cannot feel him. Can you?”

  “No. But it makes sense that a masking spell would be put up.”

  Phillip steps to the door. “Whatever happens,” he says, “your safety comes first.”

  And then, before I have a chance to reply, he pushes open the heavy door.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  PHILLIP

  RAUL’S ROOM

  For the second time in the span of minutes, I enter a room and see a grisly scene before me.

  This one, however, affects me completely unlike the last.

  A massive, hulking behemoth of a vampire is inside. The top of his head brushes against the ceiling. He has thick cords of muscle all over his back and arms and shoulders and neck.

  He has my brother pinned to one wall, holding a sickly-looking dagger to his neck.

  He does not turn around as he speaks. “One wrong move,” he warns me, in a deep, crude voice, “and your Prince dies.”

  A snicker comes from the corner. My head jerks that way.

  There’s a smaller vampire hiding in the shadows. He’s slender, almost feminine, and at the same time so weak that I can barely sense his strength.

  The contrast between the two intruders could not be more glaring.

  “Who are you?” I say. I bring an arm out to hold Eleira back. I feel her tension, feel the potential for violence roiling about like a building thunderstorm inside her body.

  “I am Dagan,” the big vampire says. “Over there is Riyu. We have come as delegates from The Crypts.”

  “You have a blade at my brother’s throat,” I say flatly. “That is not what delegates do.”

  “Oh, but you have the wrong impression,” Dagan says. “Your brother was the one who attacked us when we arrived. He forced me to act in self-defense.”

  “This is the bastard who cut my leg,” Raul grunts.

  Dagan forces his head up by pressing the blade tighter against his throat. “Now, now,” he says. “Play nice.” He turns his head back and looks at me. His eyes widen in momentary surprise when he sees Eleira.

  Then they fill with such greed that I take a protective step toward her.

  “You brought the girl,” he says. “Good. She is exactly who we need.”

  “You are trespassing on The Haven’s territory,” I say. “That is an act of war. Let my brother go, and it will be forgiven.”

  The huge vampire laughs. “Do I give the impression this is a negotiation? I’m sorry. It is not. We came to take the witch.”

  “You will never have her,” Raul growls. Inwardly, I curse my brother’s bravado.

  “Says the vampire with the knife at his throat,” Dagan laughs.

  Raul’s eyes turn to me. “There’s three of us,” he gasps. “Two of them. Fight! You can defeat them.”

  Dagan makes a sound of displeasure. “That,” he emphasizes, “would be a spectacularly bad idea. How long do you think it would take me to slit your throat? A flick of the wrist is all it’d take if either your brother or the girl moves against me. And what then?”

  “You can take them,” Raul tells me. “While his back is turned, he’s vulnerable. Go!”

  “Shut up!” Dagan takes Raul’s head and slams it into the wall. I grimace at the sudden display of violence. It’s all I can do not to fly to my brother’s defense.

  But the huge vampire is right. He would kill Raul before I even take a step.

  Eleira speaks and takes the decision out of my hands.

  “Why do you want me?” she asks.

  “Our King requests your presence,” Dagan says. He turns his head to her and gives a sleazy smile. “You will be treated very, very well as our guest, my dear.”

  “If I come, you’ll let Raul go?”

  “No!” Raul and I exclaim at the same time.

  Dagan shrugs. “If you come, I will do one better. The wound in the Prince’s leg is killing him. It is eating away at his life force. Sooner or later, he will succumb to its effects. Only in The Crypts can he be healed. You come… and we will remove the taint.”

  “Then I’ll come,” she says, without a second’s hesitation.

  I stare at her. “Eleira,” I hiss.

  “It’s the only way, Phillip,” she tells me. She sounds… fatalistic… in a way. But also determined.

  “You really do love him,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she says. “I really do.”

  “How sweet,” Dagan sneers. He takes the blade away from Raul’s throat. “It’s too bad, I was looking forward to shedding a little Soren blood.” He shrugs. “Ah, well. Riyu?”

  At that, the smaller vampire mumbles something under his breath and moves his finger around as if he’s playing cat’s cradle. The door behind us slams shut on the wind. There’s a brief but powerful expansion of power, followed by a flash of blue.

  Next thing I know, a portal is rotating halfway off the floor.

  “You’re a witch,” Eleira breathes. “You were the one I felt!”

  Riyu snickers and inclines his head briefly. He doesn’t say a word, but there’s a certain joy in his eyes at being acknowledged for his magic.

  “How did you… ” Eleira begins. The awe in her voice is evident. “How did you do that so fast?” She sounds genuinely impressed.

  “Don’t patronize him,” Dagan barks. He pushes Raul forward with the tip of the blade. “You first, Prince.”

  “Eleira…” Raul begins.

  “It’s the only way,” she tells him softly.

  I feel the most frustrating inability to affect things.

  Dagan pushes my brother to the edge of the portal. “The journey down,” he says, “has been known to be unpleasant.”

  And then he shoves him through. Raul disappears into it the moment he makes contact.

  I gasp. Just like that, all sense of my brother is gone. Just like that, he’s been taken away from here.

  “You next, witch,” Dagan says, beckoning Eleira with his knife. “You come with me. We don’t want any… funny business.”

  With a sort of steely resignation, Eleira walks around the portal and stands next to Dagan. He grabs her by the waist and pulls her close, then takes a long, thorough inhale of her hair.

  “Ahh,” he says. “Smells like woman.”

  And with that, the two of them jump in, him holding her tight.

  Then it’s just the smaller vampire and me in the room. On a sudden impulse I realize that I cannot just let Eleira and Raul go. I make a leap for the portal—

  But just as I do, an invisible force slams into me and pushes me back. I’m pinned tight against the wall. Riyu gives a soft laugh and waggles his finger in a “no-no-no” motion.

  He used magic!

  Then he hops into the portal. A moment later, it winks out of existence, and the spell holding me dissipates.

  I stagger forward, disoriented. The room is empty. All the other vampires are gone.

  Just as I try to get my bearings, a scream sounds from deep underground. I jerk toward it.

  It sounded distinctly human.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  JAMES

  THE WOODS AROUND THE HAVEN

  I rip away from my last victim, his blood streaming down my chin in thick, red rivulets.

  The man falls back, dazed, confused—and deliriously happy.

  The stupidest grin I’ve ever witnessed comes upon his face as he stares up at the night sky. His eyes are vacant, wide with dilated pupils. He has just enough blood left in him to live.

  Next comes the woman’s turn. She is the leader, insofar as I can gather, of this insane cult. She’d insisted on letting all the others go first as a demonstration of her generosity.

/>   Her body shakes with ecstasy as I step to her. My hand wraps around the small of her back. Her eyes are closed, her head angled back to expose the ever-precious carotid artery to me.

  Even though I’m bursting at the seams with human blood, I rip into her savagely. My hunger is long gone. Right now, all I’m doing is giving in to hedonistic pleasure.

  Her hot blood pours into my mouth, vital and pure. I draw on it quickly and deep. I cannot remember the last time I’ve had such a feast.

  Certainly it was not in this century.

  When it’s done—when I’ve drawn enough blood to slow the beating of her heart, when I’ve drawn to the point that just another sip might kill her—I let go.

  She falls to her knees, clutching at my legs. Her eyes are glossed over, much like the man’s.

  But there is more appreciation there.

  “Thank you,” she breathes. “Thank you, for…” a shudder of ecstasy breaks off her speech.

  “Yes?” I whisper, intrigued and fascinated—yet also repulsed—by this human woman.

  “For finding me worthy,” she finishes. Then she falls back and stares open-mouthed into the sky.

  I make a sound of displeasure and step away from her. All around me, the members of the Fang Chasers lie in a circle formation, in the exact spots I’d dropped them when I fed. There are twenty of them—twenty humans who have willingly given me their blood.

  I feel reenergized. I feel rejuvenated. I feel whole. I feel like a god. With so much blood pulsing through me, my body finally has the substance to heal all of its afflictions.

  I am, in short, the vampire James Soren again.

  I glance up at the sky. There are hours left before dawn. But none of these humans will recover by then.

  Hell, a few of them might not recover at all. The first few who offered themselves to me, for example…

  Well, you can’t blame a vampire for drawing too deep after he’s been deprived of blood for so long.

  I debate simply leaving them. I have no loyalty to these men. Or the woman. I owe them nothing. But if I leave them as is, vulnerable and exposed on the ground, I am certain the smell of blood will attract the animal predators who hunt these woods.