Kingmakers, The (Vampire Empire Book 3)

by Clay Griffith Susan Griffith

  Shirazi said, “Her Imperial Majesty to call on Lord Aden. Is His Lordship at home?”

  “Um.” The butler straightened out of habit. “He is, ma'am.” Then he bowed deeply toward Adele. “He is abed, I fear. But won't you come in and I will rouse him.”

  Adele swept past the butler, nodding politely. Greyfriar followed her, and then Shirazi stepped in. The servant closed the door as an older woman, the chief maid, scurried into view with a terrified look on her face. The butler glanced at her.

  “Mrs. Torrialba, ready the staff, if you please. We will be serving breakfast to the empress and her guests.”

  “Oh no, please,” Adele said to the shell-shocked servants. “We are not here for a social call. If you will simply tell His Lordship we are here, that will suffice.” She turned to Shirazi. “Unless you and your men would care for breakfast, Captain?”

  He remained stone-faced, refusing to acknowledge her playful comment. “No, thank you, ma'am.”

  The butler shooed the maid and raised an arm for everyone to follow him. “Will you wait in the salon, Majesty?”

  Adele said, “Captain, please wait here.” Then she and Greyfriar trailed the old servant into a richly adorned sitting room.

  The butler turned up all the gas lamps before returning to take Adele's topcoat with a bow. He folded it over his arm and paused before Greyfriar. “May I take your…wrap, sir?”

  The swordsman tilted his head.

  Adele chuckled. “He will stay wrapped, thank you.”

  The butler paused at the door. “His Lordship will attend you presently. I will return with coffee.” And he was gone.

  Adele sniffed and noticed a strong, sweet smell in the room. There were many vases stuffed with extravagant flower sprays. If the scent was that strong to her, Greyfriar must've been overwhelmed. She strolled around the room, studying the books and the shelves of vases and porcelain objects and photographs of Lord Aden with various celebrities. The walls were crowded with paintings. She stopped at one street scene and gave a low whistle. “This is a Rembrandt, I think.”

  “And?” Greyfriar was pacing the room, parting the curtains on the French windows to peer outside into the back garden.

  “It just means he's rich.”

  “We knew that.”

  “Yes. We did.” Adele smiled. “When he appears, let me take the lead in conversation.”

  Greyfriar looked over his shoulder at her. “You're just going to talk?”

  She pointed at him. “Remember, we have no idea if he's a criminal. He's not an assassin. We're just here to discuss issues of the day. It's all quite social and normal.”

  “Of course. Because he won't be suspicious about the empress dropping in at three in the morning.”

  “I want to throw him. He's far too smooth normally. I want him off-balance.”

  “This should do it.”

  The door opened and Lord Aden entered at a crisp pace, smiling and alert, fully dressed, not off-balance at all. Adele immediately noted the glint of the gold signet ring on his right hand as if it was a beacon.

  “Your Majesty, what an enormous honor.” The young man bowed and took her offered hand. “You look amazingly well, but knowing you, I can't say I'm surprised. I haven't had time to see you since the terrible event at the opera. Let me say, as I wrote to you, that the nation is grateful for your well-being.” He nodded formally to Greyfriar. “And we are grateful to you for your aid to Her Majesty that night. May I say, welcome to my home, sir. It's a great pleasure to see you outside the palace. I'll have coffee brought in.” He turned and tugged a bell pull.

  “Thank you for your sentiments, Your Lordship.” Adele hid her annoyance at how alert and awake he seemed. “Most fortunate that you were not at the opera that night. How odd. You rarely miss a premiere, as we recall.”

  Aden closed his eyes in agreement. “True. I was away on the business of increasing our war-materiel production.”

  “Ah. Well, we are terribly sorry to have roused you from sleep.”

  “Not at all. I sleep only rarely these days. The issues of the day weigh on me. Won't you sit? What may I do for you? I hope there isn't some bad news about the state? Or the war?”

  “Nothing like that.” Adele settled into a wingback chair with Greyfriar lurking behind her. She smoothed her navy skirt and tugged on the hem of her embroidered short-waisted jacket. She felt her heart beating with anticipation as she slowly drew out a sheet of paper and unfolded it with appropriate drama. “May I ask you to look at this?”

  “Of course.” Aden reached for the pince-nez in his vest and set them on his nose. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he glanced at the paper, and then showed curiosity to Adele. “I'm confused, Your Majesty. What should I take from this?”

  “Do you recognize it?”

  “It appears to be a crude version of my own crest.” Aden lifted his right hand, and his ring caught the gaslight. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a pipe and a pouch of tobacco. “I fear I'm lost as to your meaning. Do you mind if I smoke?”

  “Not at all.” Adele paused. Then she raised her eyebrows, and said with an unruffled professionalism she didn't feel, “That drawing was made by the man who wore the bomb at the opera.”

  “What?” Lord Aden looked up rapidly in true alarm for a second before gathering his calm again and proceeding to tamp tobacco into his pipe. “I heard the bomber died of his wounds.”

  “A little misinformation,” she replied. “He is alive and well, in fact.” She heard Greyfriar shifting behind her in response. Aden appeared completely serene, but began to breathe loudly through his nose.

  “Strange.” Lord Aden laid the sheet on his desk. He struck a match and began to puff out clouds of intense aromatic smoke. “I have no information for you, I fear. I suppose it's possible he had been given my crest in hopes of targeting me for death.”

  The empress said, “This bomber was one of the Undead from the north. He was an agent of Prince Cesare's. And he claimed that a human confederate here in Equatoria brought him and other Undead to Alexandria. And provided him with bombs. He also claimed this Equatorian traitor wore a ring with that crest on it.”

  Aden's face grew stern. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I must protest this in the strongest possible terms. On the word of some northern refugee lunatic, you are accusing me of attempted regicide?”

  “We are accusing no one, Your Lordship. Nor do we care for the tone of your voice. We are merely telling you what the bomber said.” Adele stood and eyed the man. “We are informing you that we are launching a complete investigation of war production, which will include detailed oversight of government contractors. But after all your sound arguments in the Privy Council, that won't be a problem for you, will it?”

  Aden adjusted a porcelain vase filled with pungent paperwhites a fraction of an inch as if it were desperately important. “I need not remind Your Majesty of my family's long service to the Empire. My grandfather invented the Randolph Boiler to increase the efficiency of our limited coal resources. My father financed the expansion of Equatoria into Burma and Zululand, and built our modern fleets. I have brought vast new coalfields into production, including many on the frontier. My coal lights Alexandria. My coal fires our steamships. And my coal will drive our new ironclad air fleet. I have given everything to this Empire. And I must tell you honestly, I resent your implications.”

  Adele replied icily, “We make no implications, Your Lordship. And you need not cite your forebears' contributions to this nation. We are well aware of the importance of your coal, and your unique place at the center of our economy and our war effort.”

  “Is it truly in the court's best interest to antagonize your industrial leadership during wartime?”

  “It is in the court's best interest, my lord, to have no doubts about our industrial leadership. Don't you agree?”

  “I have nothing to hide.” Aden buttoned his jacket.

  Greyfriar said, “You're l
ying.”

  “That's rich!” Lord Aden laughed viciously and scowled at the swordsman while blowing a scented fog of smoke into the room. He paused to consider some thought, moving behind a desk in the corner, where he remained standing. “Very well. Let's spread our cards on the table, shall we, Your Majesty? I have information which, if made public, would shake the Empire to its foundations and end your reign forthwith.”

  Adele shifted nervously despite herself. Aden always sounded confident and capable, even now when she assumed she'd have him at a disadvantage. She did her best to give a bemused look. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Lord Aden studied his glowing pipe with a smirk at the skittish empress's attempt to seem assured. “Let's just say that if the court attempts to tie me to the bomber or interfere with my business concerns in any way, I will be forced to inform the world as to the true nature of your relationship with the Greyfriar.”

  Greyfriar started to move, but Adele held up a hand. “Meaning what, Your Lordship?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don't play games. I know what he is.”

  Immediately the door opened. Greyfriar started for his weapon and Adele reacted with alarm. The butler entered quietly, pushing a service cart. Silver pitchers and china cups rattled as the man wheeled the coffee into the room. He paused, glancing up curiously at the imminent visitors frozen in aggressive postures, staring at him. He looked from them to Lord Aden and back.

  Adele's face transformed from intense to pleasant, and she slowly straightened to full height. “Ah. The coffee is here.”

  The butler asked, “Shall I serve, sir?”

  “No, that's fine,” Aden replied as if they were sharing a polite cup after dinner. “I will deal with Her Majesty.” The butler bowed and withdrew. Once the door clicked shut, Aden said sarcastically, “Would you care for coffee, ma'am?”

  Adele returned to her seat, trying to regain some inner calm.

  Aden glanced at Greyfriar. “I assume you don't drink coffee.” He laughed at his little witticism as he poured himself a cup and carefully added cream and sugar. He carried the tinkling cup and saucer back to the desk, where his pipe smoldered in an ashtray. All very domestic.

  After a moment of silence broken only by the gentle clink of a stirring spoon on fine bone china, he said, “Please be aware, I have no personal interest in your situation. Your affairs are your own. I have no agenda that impacts the state, private or political. I am content that we should lose the war, or win. I will profit handsomely either way. I look forward to a closer relationship with the court. We have been too contentious, you and I.” He sipped coffee. “So there we are. I think you see why you wouldn't care to have me testifying before Commons or in a court of law.”

  Adele looked down at her hand as her fingers toyed with a loose thread on the arm of the chair. “My lord, what makes you think you'd make it to a court of law? What makes you think you will make it out of this room?”

  Aden blew on his coffee to cool it. “That would be murder, Your Majesty. Surely that is outside your vision for a proper empress.”

  “Are you wagering your life on that?”

  “I am. I've seen you work. You badly want to rule based on law. You're not your father. It was Constantine's threat to disband Commons that was the trigger for Lord Kelvin to send Flay after him. It wasn't out of love for vampires, but out of love for Equatoria.” Aden sipped coffee and looked thoughtful. “I would submit a path that perhaps you haven't considered. Why not investigate the possibility of a truce with the vampires. We both know they're not animals, and can be bargained with.” He glanced briefly at Greyfriar. “Wouldn't you prefer to be the champion of world change based on economic and political evolution rather than a wasteful and destructive war?”

  “That's ridiculous,” Greyfriar retorted. “You can't make deals with vampires. You have nothing they want, except one thing. You must crush them. And if you think you've mastered Cesare, you are deluded. He'll kill you when you cease to benefit him.”

  Aden shrugged. “Well, that's hardly enlightened thinking, but it makes no difference to me. Personally, I don't care what Greyfriar is. Or what you two do. My message to you is that I just want to be left to do as I please. Human or vampire. Business is business. I think we understand one another.”

  Adele sneered at the man. “No, we do not. My subjects are dying in a war against vampires. You were in league with Kelvin, who ordered my father's death. And then you tried to kill me.” She stood up and opened her jacket to reveal the khukri dagger at her belt. “You are a traitor.”

  She noticed Aden's eyes on the French window as he gave a quick nod. Greyfriar must have seen it too, because he suddenly leapt at the window. Glass shattered from Greyfriar slamming his hand out and pulling a writhing figure into the room. The figure in his grip hissed. A vampire.

  Two more vampires roared into the room, smashing glass, bowling over Greyfriar as he struggled to hold the first. Adele automatically drew her dagger and moved to help him. She crushed a knee onto the back of one vampire, seizing his filthy hair to pull his head back. She drew the razor-sharp glowing khukri across his throat. His growl turned to a gurgle.

  Suddenly Adele couldn't see. She took a deep breath and her lungs seared. The smell was familiar and terrifying. Shroud gas. It was an oily gas designed by the Americans to blunt the senses of vampires. Through misty breaks in the black, Adele saw Greyfriar holding one snapping vampire by the throat while another clawed for the swordsman's neck. Then her vision went out again. She instinctively lashed out but only caught the tip of her blade against a vampire's arm. The creature snarled and whirled on her. Claws came through the opaque fog, cutting her high on the forehead, tearing at her clothes. Then it screamed when it laid a hand on her. The vampire struck blindly and Adele saw his face near hers, wide-eyed, unseeing. Then his crystal blue eyes locked on the young woman, and sharp teeth came at her in wild desperation.

  There was a quick glint of metal and a deafening explosion with a bright flash. The vampire fell into the darkness. Adele felt a strong shape at her side, grabbing her and shoving her back. There were several more blasts. She was already diving to where she knew Greyfriar lay. She felt his rough cloak with her hand and reached out to find the struggling vampire still in his grasp. Adele lashed out with the khukri, contacting deep and hearing a screech which ended in a dull grunt as Greyfriar snapped the thing's neck.

  Adele felt herself grabbed awkwardly under the arms and lifted off the floor. Before she could attack, she heard Captain Shirazi in her ringing ear. “It's me, Majesty!”

  She felt a rush of cool air on her face and quickly sucked it into her aching chest. Her vision cleared enough to see she was on a patio outside the shattered French windows. Black oily smoke boiled out of the salon, slowly dissipating in the stiff wind.

  “We must help Greyfriar!” she cried, starting for the door, eluding Shirazi's grasping hand.

  A looming cloaked shape intercepted her and propelled her farther onto the soft lawn. Greyfriar knelt at her side gasping for breath. She clutched his arms.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he croaked in reply. Then he touched her face, and his gloved fingertip came away wet. “You're injured.”

  “Nothing serious.” With watering eyes, she looked up at Captain Shirazi, who knelt with his service revolver trained at the door. “Where's Lord Aden?”

  “I don't know, ma'am,” he said without moving. “I didn't see him.”

  “We have to search the house.” Adele started to rise.

  “Stay down!” the soldier snapped. “There are vampires inside.”

  “They're dead,” Greyfriar said. “Captain, alert your men to search for Lord Aden.”

  Adele nodded to Shirazi, saying, “Find him. And Captain…shoot on sight.”

  Rome would do for now.

  Lord Aden had a vast estate just outside the Eternal City, and the Romans were notably contentious in their dealings with the Empir
e. They wouldn't be quick to give him up should the Equatorians locate him and demand his extradition. However, if he feared that the empress had designs on his life, he could move to more isolated locations until the situation was rectified.

  He stared down at the moonlight rippling on the Mediterranean far beneath his airship. The lights of Alexandria were a mere glow astern. He envisioned this as some romantic exile from which he would soon return in triumph. Surely it wouldn't take long for the empress to be driven off or even killed, once the truth about the Greyfriar was revealed. Aden would be known as the man who freed the Empire from the rule of the insane Adele. But there was nothing romantic about this exile. He was losing money every minute he wasn't attending his business, and he didn't want to think about what havoc the imperials would cause to his operations in his absence.

  Flay had given him several vampires to use as he saw fit, and they had come in handy after all. He had rigged his mansion with American shroud gas in case he needed protection against those things, and it had been a simple matter to trigger the gas in order to hamper Greyfriar's vaunted skills. Then he slipped out of his mansion via a tunnel right under the noses of the empress's toy soldiers.

  Imagine the nerve of that little girl to call him a traitor for dealing with vampires. With one standing right beside her. Clearly all the rumors about her had been true. Adele wasn't just unfit to rule; she was irrational.

  Lord Aden stepped from the stern gallery into his vast cabin. He closed the glass door behind him and slipped off his heavy overcoat. Options raced through his mind as he stirred a gin and tonic. Equatoria deserved to lose the war, as indeed it would, if he had anything to say about it. The government was incompetent if it couldn't even stand up to an unbalanced girl like Adele. A modern state needed a firm-minded businessman at the helm, not some ancient holdover from an era of divine right. Lord Aden would see to it that things changed in the coming regime. Perhaps it was time for the royal family to be deposed totally. Let men of sense and accomplishment rule the Empire.