by E. M. Knight
“I said, that’s enough.”
“You could, of course, pretend to go against her. You could pretend to be your own man. But in five-hundred years of life, you were nothing but an overgrown child, clutching to his mother’s purse string and never daring to—”
“ENOUGH!”
With the shout comes an unexpected blast of power. I don’t know from where. It’s like a part of my mind opens, and my fury is released upon the world.
The force hits her in the chest. Victoria flies back and crashes into the cavern wall. So hard that the space shakes, so hard that the rock fractures and breaks.
So hard that when her body collapses in a heap on the ground, she does not stir.
Immediately, I curse myself and run for her. I pick up her head. Her eyes are closed. She’s completely limp.
“Damn you!” I swear. “Damn you and your damned provocations!”
I cut a slice in my wrist and shove the blood to her lips. It flows into her mouth. It pools around her tongue, dribbling down her chin, but she does not swallow.
“Drink!” I command. “Goddammit, drink!”
I try to force her mouth to close around the incision. But most of my leaking blood simply ends up on the ground.
The wound in my skin closes up. I curse and cut it open again. I shove it back to her mouth.
Finally, after an agonizing few moments, she sputters.
Then she drinks.
Relief courses through me.
But damn the goddamn, presumptuous woman if she’ll ever know!
She drinks my blood for a very long time. First, with a very weak pull. But as the minutes pass, with one that becomes stronger.
When she’s finally lucid, awake, and aware of what’s happening, I pull away.
Now my anger is on full display.
“What the hell were you doing?” I demand. “How dare you force me to give you blood! How dare you take that choice away?”
She coughs, slightly, and brings a shaking hand to wipe her lips. “I didn’t think that would happen,” she admits in a tiny voice.
I’m raging. I stalk around the room, back and forth, back and forth, needing to move lest I take the anger out on her again.
“Didn’t think that would happen?” I yell. “Didn’t think I’d give you my blood? What, you expected me to let you die?”
“I didn’t expect the force to be so strong,” she mumbles. “I prepared a defensive spell against your attack. It was right there between us.”
I snort. “Small good it did you.”
“James...” She reaches into a pocket with a trembling hand. She takes out a small, ivory stone. There’s some sort of carving on it that I cannot see because of the way she holds it.
“This is the torrial I used to do it,” she tells me. “Nobody—nothing—should have been able to break through. Not your Mother. Not Eleira. For what it’s worth, not even Cierra. Not with a single blast.”
I stop. I round on her.
“What are you suggesting?” I ask her, very slowly and very deliberately.
“I’m not suggesting. I know. You’re strong.” She laughs, and the sound is almost maniacal. “Not just that. You’re not merely strong. You are the strongest.”
“If you are lying to me...”
She surges up. “Do you think I would deceive you, down on the floor like that? Your blast of power ripped through the shield I put up as if it were paper. James, that torrial is what I intended to use if we were ever to encounter Cierra and need to fight. Without it, we’d have no chance against her. But it didn’t do a thing against you!”
Her eyes widen. She trails off.
“But now, maybe we no longer need it, not with you...”
“You’re delusional,” I snap. “You cracked your head against the wall and addled your brain. I’ve never used magic in my life. Now you claim I am the strongest?” I shake my head. “That’s too much to believe.”
“Would I deliberately put myself in harm’s way like that?” she demands.
“Yes, knowing you, you damn well would!” I fire back. “You’re the one who used to go out into the desert during the day and seek out the sun!”
“To prove to them, and to myself, that they did not own me,” she hisses. “Not because I had a penchant for pain!”
“You change your tune as often as the wind,” I say.
“James Soren,” she says seriously. “You listen to me. What we uncovered here, you and I, has the potential to be the greatest gift imaginable. You don’t need anybody else. A great coven must be able to protect itself against magic. In the past that required a witch. You have all that power, and more, within you right now! More, James, more, you have so much more!”
She comes closer. “Do you remember the little plan we hatched back in The Crypts, the first time you and I were alone together?”
“Yes…” I say slowly.
“It all depended on Eleira. We went back and kidnapped the girl! Because we thought that prophecy made her invaluable to us.”
“So?”
“So? So? So, now we have you! Forget prophecy. I refuse to live in a world dictated by the past. We will make our own prophecy, you and I, and from it we can build a new order.”
I lick my lips. “That sounds...”
“Tempting?” she asks. Her energy is palpable. “Exciting? Thrilling? Amazing? It’s all that James, yes, and more! We are on the cusp of something truly incredible. None of the world is going to be the same after this!”
“There’s just one problem,” I remind her. “And that is that I can’t feel any of this magic you’re talking about.” I tap the side of my head. “There’s nothing that gives any indication of it up here.”
“You need a teacher,” she says slowly. “Somebody who can open your mind to your true potential.”
“And you know somebody like that?”
“No. But the Order might.”
Chapter Ten
Riyu
The Crypts
I look over the torrials I collected in the repository. I wish I’d had more time to find others, but Dagan and I were pressed.
We knew that Beatrice was moving, and we have to discover what she intends before she has a chance to strike at the King.
Not to mention the revenge I have to get on her for what she did to me.
I feel Dagan stir. I cup the torrials, tuck them away, and look up.
“They’re gone,” he tells me. “Now we can go.”
Since getting the torrials, he and I have been trying to navigate the myriad of tunnels on the lowest levels of The Crypts without being seen or detected by anyone.
As he’s the stronger vampire between the two of us—by far—I have to rely on his perception of others to guide us true.
“Hurry,” he says.
I jog after him, making my steps light and soundless. Just because I cannot sense vampires farther away does not mean they won’t hear me making noise.
We reach the end of the tunnel. A heavy door stands between us and the next passage.
But instead of using his master key to open it, Dagan surprises me by ducking down and starting to examine a seemingly empty space in the wall.
“Here,” he grunts after a moment. “There’s a way through...”
He shoves his massive shoulder into the rock. A part of the wall shifts under the force.
“Don’t just stand there. Help!”
I shake myself out of it. I got too caught up in simply observing him.
Dammit, Riyu, you’ll only repel him like that!
I jump forward and add my strength to his. Together, we push the now-exposed boulder out of the wall.
A much smaller tunnel runs on the other side. It’s barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
“This one trails the major artery of The Crypts,” he tells me when we’re in. “Very few know about it. It was built in secret after the rest of the construction of the coven was completed.”
He turns back and position
s the dislocated part of the wall back in place. We’re locked in, alone, together.
I swallow and try to ignore the nerves that suddenly creep up.
He gives no indication of sensing the awkwardness. Then again, he wouldn’t be feeling any of it.
“I know The Crypts have secrets,” I say, trying to change the trajectory of my thoughts. I need to focus on our purpose here! “I didn’t think they’d be hidden in plain sight, though.”
“Not in plain sight,” Dagan says absently. “Feel the walls. They’re infused with the tiniest bit of—”
“Silver,” I finish for him.
That’s the cause of my unexpected nerves. Nothing more.
He scowls, displeased with being cut off. “Yes. Right. Just the smallest amount. Only enough to make the tunnel invisible to vampires on the other side. It also means—” he straightens, “—that we can move without fear of being detected.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I want you to see something the King has been hiding for a very long time,” he responds. “Only a handful of others know about it. Me. The Ancient. Maybe Beatrice. I’m not sure.
“But,” he adds. “I think not.”
My pulse starts to quicken. “What is it?”
“Better you see than I try to explain,” he says.
With that, he takes off. I have to run fast to keep up with him.
The secret tunnel splits and twists multiple times and in quick succession.
But Dagan is absolutely certain of the way. He cuts right, then left, then runs straight past a whole bunch of alternate ways.
Finally, after it feels like we’ve trekked through the whole of The Crypts, we come to another sealed entrance.
“Here,” Dagan says. He places one hand on the door. “I have no way of telling if anyone is on the other side.”
“Let me,” I say, stepping by him. While we were running, I developed a better sense of this place. “Even if we cannot use our vampiric powers to sense others, I can probe the way with magic.”
Dagan steps aside. “Then go.”
I place both hands on the door and trace the shape with my fingers. That extra capability I have, the one that was almost like a sixth sense, does not alert me to anybody’s presence on the other side.
But I am not reckless enough to rely solely on that anymore.
I open my mind to the Elemental Forces. It’s such a relief to find them calm.
Using the finest sliver of Air, infused with Fire, I direct it through the thinnest gap in the frame.
The moment the weave makes it to the other side it tells me the coast is clear. But there’s some sort of—
I gasp as the spell suddenly snaps. The rebound crashes into me. I stagger back.
“Well?” Dagan demands. “What is it? What do you see?”
“There’s nobody there,” I say thickly, rubbing at my eyes with one hand. “But something interfered. Something severed the spell.”
Dagan gives a grim smile. “That’s entirely possible.”
I frown at him. “What? Why? What do you mean?”
“Just wait and see,” he grunts.
Then, he hefts his shoulder once more and moves the barrier out of the way.
The opening reveals a perfectly circular room. There are no windows or doors. No entrance, in fact, other than the one we’re going through.
“Come on,” Dagan says, and ducks out in front of me.
I step after him. But as soon as I cross the threshold, a sort of… ripple… washes over me.
And I see that the room is not empty, after all.
In the middle stands a great cage made of steel and silver bars.
There’s a circle of obsidian shards scattered around the cage. And inside…
Inside is a creature unlike any I’ve seen before.
It looks almost like a great lizard. Yet, at the same time, it is absolutely not. Its body is long, slender, and very cruel-looking. The skin is dark and leathery, almost cracked. Two enormous eyes are mounted on top of a brutish head that looks like it belongs to a shaven dog. The eyelids are transparent, and they flicker open and closed as the creature regards us.
“What is that?” I ask softly. The thing is staring only at me, and I don’t like the feeling I get from that. There’s an aura of absolute, subdued destruction about the beast. Its legs are folded up beneath the long, snake-like body, and they are tipped with razor sharp, hostile claws.
Claws meant for only one purpose. To tear into, and tear apart, flesh and bone.
“A demon,” Dagan says carefully. “Summoned to this world long ago.”
“Summoned… by whom?” I ask.
Dagan looks at me. “Do you remember your old teacher in the Red Keep?”
A discomforting chill washes over me. “I remember her death most of all,” I say softly.
He grunts. “Well. She came here together with The Ancient. I’m sure of it, though I could never confirm. When she arrived, Logan instantly took her in. I always wondered why. But the King trusted the counsel of that other vampire. He must have looked for her or said something, otherwise she never would have been welcomed. They knew each other from before. Nobody else, no other wanderer, was welcomed in at that time.”
“And what does that have to do with… this thing?” I ask.
I cannot shake the impression that it is focusing all of its attention on me.
“She claimed she wasn’t ‘part’ of the other witch clans. She said she was different, that she did not believe in what they stood for.”
My eyebrows go up. “I know part of that history,” I tell him. “There were witches who wanted to close the portals to the other worlds. And others, who didn’t.”
“Then she must have belonged to the second camp,” he says. “Because she brought this demon to us.”
I swallow. The thing is definitely staring at me. I can absolutely feel its radiating hostility.
“You keep it here?” I say. “Why?”
“Where else could we put it?”
“Does it… feed?”
“It gets blood,” Dagan answers. “The Ancient sees to that.”
“So it’s been prisoner here. For all this time?” I fight down an urge to shiver. “To what end?”
“That is between The Ancient and the King,” he tells me. “All that I know of it, you do, too. Now.”
“It doesn’t belong in this world,” I say softly. “Look at it!”
“I agree. But I suspect it is the King’s secret weapon. A part of me suspects...”
He trails off. “No. Never mind. That’s ludicrous.”
“A part of you suspects what?” I insist. “We’ve gone this far, you trusted me to this point. You have to tell me!”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he hisses, suddenly annoyed. “Remember the chain of command, Riyu!”
I shy back. “I overstep myself. I apologize.”
He exhales slowly. “No,” he says. “You’re fine. It’s me. I never liked magic, and this monstrosity is the epitome of that. It gets on my nerves, being here.”
The demon stirs. It lifts its head and repositions its forelegs.
A serpentine tongue flicks out, runs over the scales around the mouth, and darts back in.
“It’s hungry,” Dagan notes. “It always wants food. We keep it starved, though. So that...”
Again, he trails off.
“So that what?” I ask.
“So that when it’s unleashed against our enemies, it will destroy them without mercy.”
“You think you can control it?”
“That’s not up to me,” he says.
“I know that. But I’m asking. Do you?”
He hesitates. “Vampires are hard enough to control when they’ve got the blood lust. At least, they still understand who they are and are subject to the hierarchy. Here, with this thing?” He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think it can be controlled. Not at all.”
He walks closer t
o the cage, taking care not to step over the scattered line of obsidian. “The King is keeping it until he can figure out how to use it best. Demons have unimaginable strength. They can kill vampires with ease.” He chuckles sourly.
“Of course, they can. They are not of this world. They are from one much, much harsher.”
“Why are you showing this to me? Do you want us to destroy it? Exterminate it, like we did with Beatrice’s creations?”
Dagan grunts. “That would be unwise. You and I would be hunted down, tortured, and then killed as punishment.” He looks at me. “I am the only one who knows of it outside the other two, so it would not be hard to identify the culprit.”
“Then what?” I ask. “Why come here at all? Why show me, in person, when you could have simply told me about it?”
“I wanted you to see,” he says. “I suspect Beatrice knows about the demon. I doubt the King ever told her directly, but she’s clever. She could have easily ferretted this sort of thing out.”
“But you don’t think she’s been here?”
“No,” Dagan says. “She does not have access to the secret tunnels. And I would have seen footprints in the dust had she come before us.”
“RIYU.”
I freeze. The voice I heard wasn’t my own.
“She fled, I’m sure of it.” Dagan continues, “It’s up to us to find her, and...”
“RIYU. LOOK AT ME.”
My head turns toward the creature of its own accord.
Dagan keeps talking in the background but I do not listen.
“YESSS,” the thing hisses. “YESSSS. STEP CLOSSSEER. COME TO ME.”
Without willing it, I put one foot in front of the other. Then I do it again.
The beast hasn’t moved. It’s gone absolutely still. But I can feel those eyes locked with mine.
“CLOSER,” the creature says. “CLOSER…”
I walk forward, barely aware of what’s happening.
“Riyu?” Dagan asks. “Riyu, what the hell…?”
Next thing I know, he crashes into me, taking me to the ground.
My instincts kick in. My claws come out and my fangs extend. I fight to get away from Dagan with all I’m worth. I shove and push and strike at him—
Suddenly, the creature shrieks. It’s a horrible, awful sound. It leaps up and spreads great reptilian wings that I did not notice before. They thrash against the cage.