The Gates

by Rachael Wade

  “That’s the beauty of the situation, my queen. I won’t be needing this spell much longer anyhow. Soon I’ll have something much better.” She leaned up against the stone wall near the entryway, shrugging while she glanced around the room. “For now, though, there’s something I think you’d be delighted to know.”

  “Scarlet, think about what you’re doing. Stop and think.” My voice revealed a quiet desperation, and I felt Samira’s force tug and pry at my insides. I grabbed hold of my stomach, sank to my knees in pain.

  Samira lowered her wrist in front of me and squeezed her fist into a tight curl, keeping her eyes on Scarlet. “Go on.”

  “Gavin’s planning to destroy you and set your people free. He’s been organizing a little ambush in the city, and it’s going quite well.” Scarlet raised a brow and snickered.

  Struggling to focus through the pain, I pushed my thoughts outward to reach Josh. Secret’s out. Get everyone to the haven.

  Scarlet waited for Samira’s reaction. “I’m listening,” was all Samira said, and maintained her malevolent grip on me.

  “We did come here with an agenda, as you suspected,” Scarlet said. “We’ve been strengthening the resistance throughout the city, and an attack army twice that size will be here to join Gavin and his little friends very soon, when the next crescent moon rises.”

  Samira turned away from Scarlet and released me, allowing her magic to unravel from around my stomach. I was able to stand and straighten myself, but kept my gaze on the floor. Samira’s silence scared me more than her usual chilling conversation did, and the fact that she freed me from her grasp told me the worst was yet to come. I tuned myself back into Josh’s thoughts and added: Please tell Camille I love her and I’m sorry … for everything.

  Within seconds, he responded: It’s not over yet, Gav. But I’ll tell her. And we’re on it.

  Samira ambled up the granite steps and to her throne chair with an easy grace, sitting quietly, no expression alluding to her intentions. “Of course.” She began tapping her nails on the armrest. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, and yet this is how you repay me.” She looked up at the castle’s ceiling as if speaking to no one in particular. I didn’t say a word. No-words was better.

  Scarlet didn’t feel the same way. “You see, Your Highness? We all despise you, there’s no secret in that. Gavin just happened to be the first one brave enough to try to beat you at your own game.” She clucked her tongue and shifted her stance against the wall. “That was appealing. But now, let’s just say I’d much rather see you destroyed from another team’s point of view.” Another team? What?

  “The operative word being ‘try.’” The tone of Samira’s voice dropped a low, deadly octave, the iciness palpable and bone chilling. “I might have acted in good faith, but I am most certainly prepared for betrayal. Always. It is a close, familiar friend—as you very well know.”

  Scarlet’s smug grin turned into a radiant, victorious smile. I watched the two exchange loathing glances, unsure what was going on between them, but equally unsure whether I wanted to find out. I listened hard for any word from Josh and eyed Dali and Akim huddled in a far corner of the room, trying to measure the distance from where I stood and the set of doors near the throne. At the first sight of movement from the doors, I’d bolt. All I needed was one quick distraction to try to escape, maybe dodge her magic before she could react.

  “You could say I know betrayal intimately, yes.” Scarlet giggled and sauntered toward me, bent down to pick up the journal near my feet. I made eye contact with her for the first time since she’d revealed our plan, and cringed at the amusement that danced across her lips.

  “You still intend to see me destroyed, do you.” Samira lifted her chin, deadpanning Scarlet. “So you have another agenda of your own, I see.”

  “Always.”

  “Some things never change.”

  “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. The more things change, the more they stay the same.” She pursed her lips and let out another giggle, lazily flipping through the pages of Camille’s journal. “Oh, how cute. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Devereaux.’”

  “Leave, Scarlet,” Samira ordered. “Your presence is no longer required. I trust I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “Leave?” Scarlet reached out and brushed her fingers through my hair. I flinched, jutting my head away. “But I wouldn’t dare miss the show.”

  “Go to hell,” I whispered, balling my fists at my side.

  Samira stood from her chair; the wolves trotted up the steps to join her. “Sorry to disappoint you, you worthless fool. But I will not give you the satisfaction of a front-row seat. Leave. Now.”

  “Samira, it really is a joy to watch you as you stand there, trying to exert authority as if you actually have some. But I’ll let you have your little moment.” Scarlet wiggled her fingers and scrunched her face, snapping Camille’s journal shut and turning on her heel to exit. I closed my eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath, bracing myself for what was to come the moment she disappeared behind the doors.

  Me and Samira alone. No word from Josh. No nothing. I’d sealed my fate, let my parents down, lost and doomed my love. Nothing could describe the devastation that seized every inch of my body.

  The instant Scarlet reached for the tall wooden doors, she swung back around. “Oh, you know what? On second thought,” she propped herself up against the wall again, made herself comfortable, “this show is going to be one of a kind. I simply can’t miss it, I’m sorry.”

  “I thought I made myself clear.” Samira’s words seethed through her lips, bitterness thick and slippery on the tip of her tongue.

  “Oh, but Your Majesty, I haven’t told you the best part.” Scarlet pouted her lips and rubbed her hands together as though excited. “Arianna is alive and well, and is a part of this whole little plan. Gavin here knows where she is, and planned on using her as leverage to ensure his victory. He figured if his side was losing during the attack, he could wave knowledge of her location around in your face to secure his freedom. She’s in Paris, by the way. Nice place, really cute, and just minutes from the Louvre—”

  “Enough!” Samira roared, her eyes widening to reveal a shade of malice I’d never seen her wear before. The soft wrinkles at the corners of her eyes tightened and her brow furrowed, nestling the rage that was clawing its way from her body. Her brow transformed from a violent crease to distraught evidence of agony within seconds, her gaze slowly dropping to the floor in realization. She turned her back to us and jerked her head away, then her body went eerily serene.

  I stopped breathing. My legs gave out. A soft ripple penetrated my numbness and entered my consciousness, thoughts from Josh desperately trying to reach me:

  Can’t find Camille. Looking everywhere. The others are on their way to you.

  Hearing Camille’s name, I shook my head to concentrate, firing back: Find her, damn it! Find her now! Don’t send the others here. I said go to the haven! All of you! You’re getting weaker, you need to save your strength.

  You’ll need protection, he insisted. We’ll manage. We’re strong enough to get you out of there. Stand by.

  “Guards!” Samira’s svelte frame shook as she shouted, her back still facing us. The watchmen sprinted through the rear doors near her throne. “Bring me the girl at once, and leave not one scratch on her body. Do what you have to do to get her alone and vulnerable. This instant!” Pivoting the top half of her body around to peer at me, she swiveled her waist as if on a hinge. “Mr. Devereaux, when this is over, death will surely seem a kindness to you.”

  * * *

  “I know I left it here,” I muttered, foraging inside the windmill. I rummaged around behind the stacks of hay, near the door, and through the wooden storage boxes. I refastened a lid onto one of the crates and shook my head, still talking to myself. “It was by the door …” Placing a hand on my hip, I let out an exasperated sigh and sat down to give myself a few more minutes of peace and quiet to th
ink.

  Whatever Samira had summoned Gavin for, it couldn’t be good. Could it? Maybe she found out about the blood supply being low. Maybe she knows something we don’t. Maybe she’s been on to us this entire time.

  Groaning at this last thought, I dropped my head into my hands and closed my eyes, picturing the serene sugarcane fields back home, my tiny yellow house, the Bayou Teche, and my favorite little bookstore, the one with the cozy cherry shelves and that god-awful green carpet. I inhaled, and tried to imagine what the air would smell like this time of year, envisioning the lazy Louisiana breeze and how it would sway through the Spanish moss, causing it to flitter and dance from its branches in the late afternoon sun. It was hard to imagine anymore. Since I’d adapted to my Amaranthian life, the memories were becoming even fainter than before, and lately, that had begun to make me uneasy.

  My thoughts spun around, doing lap after lap, contemplating useless what-if scenarios. A faint jostling sound made me lift my head from my arms, then a loud ruckus and what sounded like hundreds of voices finally stirred me to stand up. The voices grew louder, and I recognized the faint cries of Amaranthians resounding from the village’s valley.

  I stepped toward the door, placed my ear to it. A low rumbling began, reverberating below my feet like an earthquake, and I staggered back, looking at the floor. I felt the hairs on my neck stand up and I stepped back. Another low, heavy hum thundered from somewhere east, and everything in me told me to bolt.

  Grabbing the door’s wooden latch, I twisted it and swung the door open, and was blasted with a gust of wind so powerful I nearly fell back. Nothing could prepare me for the mayhem stretched out before me, dressing the Amaranthian horizon like an orchestrated, apocalyptic dance. The typically dreary skyline was aglow with the warm red flames of fires in the villages below, and the streets were swarming with bloodshed. Samira’s guards bulldozed their way over the cobblestone streets, tearing villagers literally limb from limb. I could make out five or six figures positioned on our home’s rooftop, appearing to be calling out to one another. I squinted, shielding my vision from the wind, and was able to make out a few of the faces of my vampire housemates. No sign of Audrey, Josh, or Gabe, though. The normally glistening emerald hills were now dull and barren.

  As quickly as everything was unfolding, the turmoil seemed to move in slow motion. Maybe it was the shock, the surreal nature of it all. I lifted my gaze from the valley below to the golden gates opposite the windmill’s hill, and beheld packs of the monsters, charging down the incline and toward the people. The tumultuous display continued to whirl across my line of sight and envelop me in its madness, until a soft ripple of white drew my attention from the east. I zoned in on the violent rush of water that surged from the river’s edge, rolling over the resplendent emerald hills, heading straight for the valley.

  The sight jolted me from my trance, and I catapulted into a determined run. Where are Gabe and Audrey? What about Josh and Cecile? My God, Gavin!No!

  I rushed down the hill, still shielding myself from the wind, and noticed the form of a woman out of my side vision. She was moving closer, making her way uphill to meet me, only I couldn’t quite make her out.

  “Camille!” she shouted, fighting against the crosswind.

  “Cecile!” I shouted back, recognizing her. We met and clasped hands, and I saw the fear in her eyes.

  “You must listen to me, sweetheart. We haven’t much time. The Book of the Ancients, the one Vivienne gave you, is stored safely in the haven. Return it to Vivienne when this is done. Return it to her hands, do you hear me?”

  “Cecile, we have to get into the haven!”

  “My dear, the snake, and now this …”

  The water. Of course. The prophesied water. The rushing water boomed and heaved forward, engulfing every crevice and dip in the land, creeping up on the valley with rapid speed. In seconds, it would break and pour over into it, dumping its merciless weight.

  “The time has come,” Cecile shouted, turning my chin to the river’s surge. “You mustn’t be afraid, Camille. This is the beginning, and Gavin will lead the way. This is Samira’s magic,” she motioned to the chaos around us, “all of the rage she’s housed over the centuries, erupting. Something’s triggered it. It won’t be long now. You must stay strong and look fear straight in the eyes. Tell Audrey she’s my angel.”

  “Cecile, I don’t understand.” Tears toppled from my eyelids and cascaded down my cheeks. I raised a hand to swipe them away and held tight to her embrace.

  “You’ve arrived, my dear. Now walk the path. Ever forward.”

  Our eyes locked and a looming shadow descended upon us, an assembly of guards swooping down from above. They seized Cecile and closed in on her, my screams drowning out her own before two of them captured me next. I heard the last moments of her life slip away, a pair of chain cuffs clasped around my wrists, before one of the monsters snatched me up and launched us into the air. We sailed straight over the city, toward the gates, toward the dreaded castle on the hill. As we soared over the valley, I watched the terror unfurl beneath me as the raging swells of water plummeted into the village, swallowing it up with vicious greed.

  15

  LACRIMOSA

  A head rush welcomed me when we landed and more guards joined us, surrounding me with vengeful smiles, taking my arms to usher me forward through the castle doors. The lofty, ancient doors opened up before me, the wooden crevices seeming more jagged and sinister-looking than I remembered. My shoulders knocked from side to side into the guards next to me as I swayed, my hands still bound in shackles in front. The somberness hung in the air like a filmy shroud, tension lending itself to the overshadow of foreboding as we approached the throne room.

  I saw his face. Saw him on his knees, his jaw slack and brow weighed down in torment. And there was something else in his eyes, something heartbreaking: defeat. His hazy gaze met mine, confirming these would be our final moments together. I dropped my eyes to the floor while the guards positioned me in front of Samira’s altar, forcing me to turn my back to him. Everything I’d just witnessed—Cecile’s death, the desperate villagers scrambling to reach higher ground to escape the river’s surge, the destruction of the village streets—none of it amounted to what I’d seen in Gavin’s eyes in this room. I’d no idea if Audrey, Josh or Gabe were dead, no idea what had become of the blood supply situation or Gavin’s summoning. All I’d known were Cecile’s final words, and the fate that had brought Gavin and me here, together, at the mercy of Samira’s altar. And that was enough.

  Spotting Scarlet near the entry doors, leaning against the wall watching us like some cool, comfortable cougar, only intensified the dread. My journal lay at her feet. Seeing me, she simply smiled the most grotesque smile I’d ever witnessed and waved.

  My journal. The windmill. It’s over. I kept my head low, barely able to look up, past the granite steps and toward the invincible vampire queen, who now stood with her back to me, hands placed gracefully on each side of the altar. She didn’t move. A long, thin-velvet drape covered part of the table, just above the rows of dolls. Thankfully, I’d never been near enough to see them up close, but I’d noticed the variety of them, each with distinctive figures and features. Some had faces painted black, others no hair, and the one on the far right, the one Samira slowly reached for, with no feet. I watched her from under my eyelashes while she extended one long fingernail to drag it toward her. Then, with one nimble turn of her wrist, she drew back the velvet cloth and unveiled the altar’s contents. A selection of pins, knives, needles, and all sorts of oils lined the table adjacent to the dolls. My heart lurched in my chest and I didn’t dare turn my head to look at Gavin. This is what it’s all come to. A slow, excruciating death alongside my love.

  “Arianna.” Gavin’s voice quivered behind me. “Don’t you want to know about her before you get rid of us?”

  Us. I blinked, fixated on the pins she began collecting in her other hand.

  “I intend to hea
r all about her.” At finally speaking, Samira shifted her head to glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.

  “I can tell you things Scarlet can’t. Things no one else knows.”

  “Can you, now.”

  “I won’t talk unless you free Camille. Let her free, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  She snickered, her back to us, examining her weapons of choice. “I believe I have heard enough. What I do not know cannot hurt me, I am certain of this.”

  “You know nothing of her life since Gérard took her from you. But I do. I can tell you. You knew her as a young girl but she grew up, she changed. I know the woman she became—”

  “That is enough!” She jerked around, her glacial blue eyes alight with pure, undiluted affliction. I cowered away at her outburst, sinking my head into a protective shell formed by my neck and shoulders.

  “Guards!” she shouted, keeping her body still. The grisly vampires all stood to attention and gathered near the rear doors behind the throne. “I shall barricade the castle doors. See to it they stay that way. I won’t need long.”

  Grasping for any bravery I had left, I slightly shifted my head to glance back at Gavin, questioning him with my eyes. He gave nothing away; his brown eyes were hard, cold, and distraught. Did this mean our friends were alive? Could they come to help us? I’d seen some of them escaping the river’s flood, but no sign of those I loved most.

  Samira closed her eyes, inhaled, and her body began to shake, her hands swaying from side to side in some mystical dance, still holding the pins she’d selected. The castle walls and the ground beneath us shook in unison, mimicking the earthquake that seized her body, causing a rupture of crumbling sounds not far in the distance. The guards looked to the exit behind the throne and waited, fear washing their faces.