by Carina Cook
She’d read it, one night when she was bored in her dorm room and all of her roommates were off at some fraternity party. She’d stayed home to study for a final, and she’d run across the book while looking for one of her textbooks. She’d tried some of the glyphs that night, and a few times after. If she could believe in vampires, why not blood magic? But none of it ever worked even though she knew the basic theory. You drew the glyph in blood, and the spell would take effect. It seemed like a strange thing to believe in, but if vampires were real, and they considered this book dangerous enough to lock up, then it could be real.
With effort, she moved her hand to her face, wiping some of the blood from her upper lip. It glistened on the tip of her finger. Then she moved her hand, drawing a complicated glyph in the air before her. It had been too long; she couldn’t remember which glyph went with which spell. She could only hope that it did something. Maybe if she could show them blood magic, Viktor would be so impressed that he’d forget about killing the baby. Maybe she could bargain with him. The book of glyphs for Claire.
Moments before grabbing the baby’s squirming form, Viktor froze. The pressure on Liss’s head eased. Next to her, Dagmar’s hand went to the side of her dress, probably the site of some hidden weapon. Gregor crouched, calculating the distance between him and Liss, watching the king with a wary expression.
Viktor turned, his actions turning into a herky-jerky pantomime, his face contorting like he wanted to say something but couldn’t make any sound come out. He half walked, half waddled down the dais. Courtiers moved hastily out of his way, afraid to catch the backsplash of his notorious temper. One of the few people who didn’t move was Duke Mieville, who was reclining in an antique Queen Anne chair with the blasé attitude of someone who had seen many babies killed and didn’t really care if he saw one more.
The king grabbed the chair, toppling the Duke onto the floor with a muffled oath. His hands flexed spasmodically, ripping one of the legs free. Everyone gasped. Liss tensed, trying to figure out whether she should run or fight or what. Gregor launched himself in front of her, shielding her with his body like his father might decide on a spur of the moment to javelin her to death with a chair leg.
Liss saw a flicker of movement at the back of the room; Oliver paused at the doors with the baby in his arms. He’d taken the opportunity to flee while he could, and Isabeau gestured, urging him on. Tears shimmered on his cheeks as he looked back at her. He was torn.
Olivier didn’t need to see what was almost certainly going to happen next. Liss waved her hands at him, urging him out the door before the king regained his senses. In all likelihood, Viktor was going to stake Isabeau right there to prove his mastery over everyone. From the way his eyes were rolling in their sockets, he’d clearly lost all pretense of humanity.
The door closed behind Olivier and Claire, and Liss let out a slow breath of relief. At least the baby was okay. But her relief was short lived. The king turned back toward the dais. His bulging eyes met hers for the briefest of instants before he plunged the broken length of wood into his own chest.
CHAPTER 6
In the wake of Viktor’s death, the entire court stood motionless. Gregor included. He felt rooted to the ground by shock, but gradually, this strange sensation rose in his chest. Relief. For years, Viktor had been the first thing on his mind when he woke up at night and when he went to sleep in the morning. When he’d been made vampire, he’d been desperate to please his sire out of a combined feeling of love and fear. He’d seen what happened to people who displeased Viktor. Even before he’d been king, he was ruthless. But gradually, Gregor’s feelings had melted into a haze of uncaring obedience. And now he was free. He supposed he should be mourning the loss of his sire, or at least the loss of the king. His absence would leave a hole in the vampire community, and although Gregor was the crown prince, he realized abruptly that he didn’t want the crown that he supposedly stood next in line for.
He could happily retire from court this very moment. Viktor wasn’t there to stop him. He had the money—all he had to do was sell his shares of the Renaissance. Chandra would love to have them. Then he could take Liss and the rest of the Lorenssons away from all of this. Buy a house in the country, as far from civilization as possible. Retire in obscurity and never have to worry about vampire politics again.
As quickly as the dream came to mind, it popped. He couldn’t leave just like that. The Lorenssons wouldn’t want to go—they enjoyed running the Renaissance. And he’d seen what Liss had done just before Viktor died. Many of the vampires weren’t old enough to recognize the glyph, but Gregor was. One of Viktor’s thralls had been a blood mage, and his sire had used her to take the throne, then killed her once his authority was complete. Gregor, horrified, had asked him why, and Viktor had explained that he couldn’t allow any threats to his authority to live. Clearly, he’d never seen Gregor as much of a threat, or Gregor would have followed suit. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or offended by that.
Now, Liss had used blood magic, and Viktor had died. It didn’t take a genius to put the two events together, and even those vampires who didn’t know about blood magic would catch up quickly. Some would be relieved at Viktor’s absence, like Isabeau. Others would be out for Liss’s blood, like Chandra. All of the vampires would be debating whether Liss was useful enough to keep alive or dangerous enough to be put to death. Gregor had to protect her, as he would do for all the Lorensson family. He told himself it wasn’t because she was special, but he knew deep down that it was a lie.
All of this flashed through his mind in a matter of moments. The decision came easy after that. He might not want the crown, but he had to take it. Liss’s safety depended on it, and maybe, just maybe, he’d be good at leading. Better than Viktor at the very least.
The crowd began to back away from Liss, murmuring uncertainly. It was as if she was in quarantine, like the blood magic might be catching. Gregor had to act fast, before the members of the court could think to oppose him.
He put a hand on Dagmar’s shoulder and spoke loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Liss is mine,” he said. “If anyone attempts to lay a finger on her, cut it off.”
Dagmar met his eyes for a moment. She didn’t change expression, but her eyes flickered as emotions warred behind them. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling, but he knew he could count on her as he always had. Sure enough, after a moment, she nodded. Then she drew a short silvered blade from the sash at her waist and stood before her daughter. She didn’t bother with fancy poses or menacing expressions like a Hollywood action star. Instead, she stood ready and loose, weight balanced on the balls of her feet. At some point, she’d kicked off her shoes. Gregor hadn’t even noticed.
Liss stared down at her bloody hand in shock. She didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Gregor assumed it was her first kill. Once she snapped out of the shocked stasis, she might scream or panic. Dagmar couldn’t protect her if she was out of control, so he turned to Tait and Konstantine.
“Take care of her,” he said.
They both nodded and moved to flank her, taking her arms and murmuring soothing comments into her ears. Gregor hoped it would work, but he didn’t have the time to watch. He had his own part to play.
He made his way through the crowd. They parted for him with cautious respect, waiting to see what he would do. When he stopped, Viktor’s broken body lay at his feet. It had already begun to turn to ash. Within the next five minutes, it would be gone entirely. He stooped down and took the ruby signet ring off Viktor’s finger. Viktor had never worn an actual crown, but he’d stolen this ring off the last king, and it seemed symbolic enough.
Gregor fit it onto his finger. It settled there like it had been sized for him, although there was a bit of grainy stuff caught between the band and his flesh that may or may not have been some of Viktor. It irritated him, which seemed symbolic, but then it fell out or disintegrated, and that did too.
He made his way onto the dais, tu
rned at the top of the steps, and addressed the crowd.
“I am the progeny of King Viktor and his chosen crown prince,” he declared. “I claim his throne. I promise you a fair and just kingship, where all of us can exist in safety and prosperity. To celebrate this day and to show that I mean these words, I offer all vampire members of the court shares in the Renaissance Casino. If you will give me time to make these arrangements with my thralls, I will provide instructions on how to claim your shares before the evening is out.”
It was obviously a bribe. Gregor knew they would pick up on it. But he also knew that what he was offering wasn’t a weak sop. It was a valuable gift from a king to his subjects. And it would buy him time. Even those of them in the audience who would rather face the true death than see him on the throne would wait to see what else they could get out of him before they made their moves. But he would stay one step ahead of them.
Besides, Liss would be safe for now, and that was all that mattered to him.
At first, Konstantine and Tait were less than thrilled about Gregor’s Renaissance shares scheme, but then he explained his rationale. Sometimes, they’d struggled with a few board members who had no idea that the owners were undead. By opening the door to more court influence, they could identify other high quality thrall families and reward them with more shares and positions within the casino. The Lorensson family would have backup within the organization by people in the know. Once they understood what he was trying to do, they were on board wholeheartedly and began shooting implementation ideas back and forth. Gregor left them to it.
Liss still sat in the corner of the room with her mother standing guard. She looked less shocked now, but nearly on the verge of tears. The enormity of what she had done must have hit her. He began to make his way across the room to comfort her, but only made it a few steps before he was intercepted by Chandra.
“A word with you, Majesty,” she said breathlessly.
He looked down at her. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that her square face was flushed with excitement, but that couldn’t be true. No blood ran in her veins. None went to her cheeks. It had to be makeup, but still. Something had agitated her. As much as he wanted to see to Liss immediately, he’d better hear it out. Perhaps it might be some danger that might threaten his thralls or his position. If he didn’t find out about it now, he might regret it later.
“Yes, Chandra,” he said. “What is it?”
“I have a proposition for you,” she said.
She kept fluttering her lashes and casting glances at him from beneath lowered brows. It was the same simpering attitude she used to exhibit when talking to his sire. Was she afraid of him, as she’d been of Viktor? He could understand the feeling and immediately wanted to put her at ease.
He put a hand on her shoulder. Vampires didn’t go much for physical contact, so the gesture meant quite a lot. It was a sign of trust and reassurance.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m not my father. I will treat you fairly.”
She smiled at him tentatively.
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually so forward, and it’s gotten me uncommonly nervous,” she said.
“Rest assured that you can speak freely to me. Even if I do not agree with you, I will always respect your opinion.”
He meant it too. As much as he’d dreaded Chandra’s appearance in the past, he realized now that she was as much of a victim of Viktor as he was. She’d done as she was asked, just as he did. So how could he hold that against her now? He would treat her with respect and consideration now and see what came of it. Perhaps she might agree to stay on at his steward, to help ease the transition. That gesture might help to persuade some of Viktor’s old supporters who were on the fence about his coronation, like Mieville, who kept shooting glares at him from across the room, shares or no shares.
It was a good idea, and he was just thinking about how to approach it when she spoke.
“I’d like to talk to you about my position in your new court,” she said.
“I wanted to discuss that as well,” he said, smiling. “I was thinking…”
“That we should marry, of course,” she interrupted, clutching at the hand still on her shoulder.
He withdrew it hurriedly as if stung. “I beg your pardon?”
She blinked. This clearly wasn’t the reception she’d been looking for, but she recovered fast.
“Well, I was thinking that you have a problem,” she explained. “Some of Viktor’s supporters are saying that you don’t deserve the throne just because you had your thrall kill him. In their mind, they have just as much of a right to the throne as you do. But they’d be set at ease to know that someone from Viktor’s inner circle sat on the throne with you. You have the support of those that didn’t like Viktor. I have the support of those who did. Together, we could unify the court.”
She spoke sense, but still. Gregor didn’t like it. He might be willing to give Chandra a chance, but that was a far cry from marrying her. Besides, a part of his mind went to Liss, and all of those strange feelings that she created in him. He couldn’t in good faith marry someone else—even if it was of the politically expedient type of marriage—without resolving those feelings once and for all. It wouldn’t do for the king of the vampires to pine away of a broken heart.
“That’s a very intelligent argument,” he began, but once again Chandra interrupted him, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her cold, dead bosom. It was such a contrast to Liss’s warm vitality that he couldn’t help it. He recoiled.
Chandra gave him a stricken look. She spoke quietly, as if embarrassed about what she was going to say next.
“It’s not just political. I have loved you for centuries, and you never noticed,” she murmured.
“I…I am truly sorry.” He meant it too. “But this is too soon. I cannot in good faith make this commitment to you now, and for that I apologize. I do not wish to play with your heart, but so much has changed, and so quickly. I cannot make any decisions in haste, lest I regret them later.”
“Oh.” She considered this for a moment, and then gave him a brisk nod. “Yes, of course. Please do consider it. I would make you happy; I swear it. And it would be a very smart thing to do. We marry, and then you kill off the blood mage, and the court will follow you anywhere.”
Gregor blinked. “Kill her?”
“Of course, darling.” Chandra seemed delighted by the prospect and didn’t notice his horror. “She can’t be left alone. The punishment for killing a vampire is death.”
“But it is my judgement as the king,” he protested.
“Well, yes, but you don’t need thralls any more. You can take anyone’s, any time you like.” She shot him a coy look. “Are you hungry, Majesty? I could procure someone for you. Anyone you like.”
“No, no,” said Gregor hastily. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Very well. Think on what I have said. It is the only way,” she said, backing away and dropping a deep curtsey. “And know that I am at your service. Any time.”
She laid meaning upon meaning in those last words. It was clear what she was offering, just as clear as the fact that he would never accept it. He would never marry someone who discussed murder with such glee. Maybe he fed on others, but he prided himself on retaining some bit of humanity after all these years.
He had to stop Chandra. She couldn’t be allowed anywhere near Liss. He would keep her safe, or meet the final death trying.
CHAPTER 7
It still didn’t feel real. Liss couldn’t believe she’d done blood magic. In front of the entire vampire court. And she’d used it to kill the king.
She hadn’t meant to, not really. If someone had asked her if she wanted to kill the king at that moment, she would have said yes, because she was upset. But what she’d really wanted was to stop the king. If he’d reached for the baby and then had second thoughts and said, “You know, this is a really terrible thing to do. You all toddle off, and I’ll keep on
being king, and everything will be fine,” Liss would have been happy to comply. Saying she wanted him dead had been a convenient shortcut to expressing her feelings. People said they wanted to kill other people all the time. They didn’t mean it literally, and neither had she.
But she’d gone one step further. She hadn’t just kind of wanted him dead, she’d made him dead, and now she had to live with that. Or she would if she didn’t end up getting torn apart by the vampires. She kept waiting for them to leap at her and drain all her blood, or throw her into a wall or something. In the minutes after she cast the glyph that killed Viktor, she kept staring at her bloody fingers, too afraid to look anywhere else because at any moment the attack might start. She didn’t want to die poorly, and maybe if she didn’t see it coming, she wouldn’t go out crying like a baby and embarrass her family.
Except that the attack didn’t come. Eventually, she looked around to see that her mother was guarding her. Liss almost grabbed her arm and told her to stop, because it was one thing to know that she’d doomed herself and another thing entirely to doom her family. She wouldn’t stand for that.
Tait caught her eye and hurried to her side. He did not look like he was about to say goodbye to her. On the contrary, he seemed strangely excited. Liss couldn’t imagine why. It felt like she’d never be excited again.
“What’s happening?” she asked in quiet tones. She didn’t want to get him in trouble.
“Gregor declared himself king. We’re to watch over you until he figures out what to do,” explained Tait. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”
But that news only made her feel worse. It would be one thing to be ripped apart by the vampire crowd. She didn’t care anything about them. But Gregor? She felt lots of things for him, and even if she couldn’t quite explain what they were, that didn’t make them any less potent. She didn’t want to hurt him any more than she did her family. He cared for her, if his actions earlier were any indication. She didn’t know if he cared because she was his thrall, or something bigger than that. But either way, having to put her down like a rabid dog would hurt him. No, she’d jump off a balcony before she’d put any of them through that. She looked around, trying to determine if she could make it to the balcony unstopped, but there was no way. Maybe an opportunity would open up. She would just have to watch for it.