Scion's Avalon [House of Dracul 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

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Scion's Avalon [House of Dracul 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 6

by J. Annas Walker


  When she turned around, she could see two small figures on the ground outside the golden sphere of light. Dressed in the same style as Finn, a pair of leprechauns lay a few feet away. One of the men Cassy recognized as Seamus. The other was a complete mystery.

  Shouts came up the hillside as witches rushed to them. A swirl of icy-blue mist formed to the left of the unconscious men. A third leprechaun dropped out of the mist before it took the shape of the gatekeeper.

  The gatekeeper pointed at the three of them. Coils of rope appeared out of nowhere and snaked their way around each leprechaun. She held her palm open and began whispering. They rose into the air, slowly rotating in place as she did. It was as though she were suspending them from the sky.

  With her task complete, she turned to Cassy and David and smiled. She walked around their fading bubble. Touching it in places made it glow bright gold.

  “Impressive,” she commented. Forcing her hand through the side of the barrier caused it to collapse. “But controlled by passion. Isn’t love amazing?”

  Before they could ask her what she meant, the others made it to the top of the steep earthen ramp. Mills had his unit pointing weapons at the suspended men. A witch in a white, gossamer gown with a red sash fussed over the Cassy and David, declaring them unharmed. Three more witches walked the tree line around the open space chanting protective spells.

  “We have two elves in iron cuffs by the lion’s head fountain at the bottom of the slope. It’s a good thing your father brought those with him this afternoon. Those are special order items and would have taken a few weeks to get,” Mills said.

  Iron was as much a weakness to elves as silver was to vampires. Her father must have planned for trouble, knowing elves were involved.

  “If you will excuse me, I must be returning,” the gatekeeper said suddenly. Vanishing in swirl of robes and cape, she disappeared as quickly as she as had arrived.

  “Let’s all get back inside. Shall we? It’s all Mom can do to keep your father from coming outside,” Mills suggested. He waved the group down the slope. Two women took control of the leprechauns and guided them to the bottom, still hanging in midair.

  “Why wouldn’t we want Father’s help?” Cassy asked.

  “If it was common knowledge he was here, they wouldn’t have tried kidnapping you now. As it is, we have the benefit of surprise. The three of you should be able to compel them to talk,” Mills explained. He gave Cassy a sly smile and a wink. “Besides, your father’s reputation for getting information should scare them enough to want to spill what they know regardless.”

  David took Cassy’s hand, and they walked with the others back to the house. On the steps between the larger-than-life lions, he took her in his arms, kissing and hugging her.

  “That’s twice I’ve almost lost you,” he whispered in her ear.

  A thick accent interrupted him. “Thank the night you are still vith us, Cassandra. Now, if you vill excuse us, David and I have much vork to do,” the High Prince said calmly. He motioned David forward, casually meandering his way to the holding cells Mills had built in the security offices.

  Cassy stared into David’s silver-gray eyes. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

  “We have to find out how they got in here and why they were after you. I’ll be back before you know it,” David promised. He gave her another soft kiss on the lips and followed her father.

  A withered hand handed her a handkerchief. “Don’t cry, dear. They will find what we need to know soon enough. Let’s go inside for a nice cup of something warm,” Lady Helena soothed. She made a small pushing motion with her hand. The massive oak doors swung open.

  Crunching noises on the gravel behind them put Cassy on alert. Her fangs were still extended. She spun around to snarl at the person running up to them.

  A witch, who appeared to be in her early twenties, stopped at the bottom of the steps. Panting, she bent forward and placed her hands on her knees.

  Cassy heard her heart pounding like thunder. The blood in her veins made a whooshing noise with each thud. She realized how hungry she was. Years of practice prevented her from leaping on this woman and sinking fangs into her jugular.

  “We found it, Lady. They opened a portal in our woods not far from the top of the slope. From there, they can see the entire house and most of the surrounding grounds,” she reported.

  Lady Helena thanked the young woman and turned to Cassy.

  “At least now we know,” she said.

  “Know what?” Cassy asked.

  “How they planned to take you and where,” the elder witch said.

  Chapter 7

  David stood in the corner of the stark, white room. There were no windows and only one door. In the center of the floor sat a chair with a small, blindfolded man. Bushy brown hair stuck out in odd tufts around the thick cotton fabric.

  “I know you are there, vampire,” the diminutive man said. “I can feel you watching me. Get on with it.”

  “How about we start simple? What is your name?” David’s tone was even. He did not want to start off rough, but after nearly losing Cassy, his patience had a limit.

  “Rumpelstiltskin,” he huffed.

  “You have to be kidding. Seriously. What is your real name?” David teetered between being annoyed with the answer and being amused by it. Under better circumstances, he might have laughed the name off as a joke.

  “Why does everyone always think I’m making it up? That really is my name. You can call me Stilt,” he said. “And by the way, I’m not a leprechaun. So, don’t try that whole three wishes thing with me.”

  “Not a leprechaun, huh? Well, then, Stilt, what are you?” David had assumed all three were leprechauns.

  David met Seamus before and knew what he was. Using the wish system gave them all the information he had. No coercion was needed.

  The two elves claimed to be responsible for opening and maintaining the portals. They did not know why the other three wanted the realm doors. They claimed to be members of the royal court and claimed a form of diplomatic immunity to punishment.

  The other man was with Vlad. It did not matter what type of creature he claimed to be. He touched Cassy without permission. David nearly shuddered at the thought of what Vlad planned. Nearly.

  The little man said nothing. A stubborn, defiant silence surrounded him. Persuading him to willingly give up the information he possessed was unlikely.

  A scream came from down the hall. Somewhere in another room, David knew the High Prince relished doing what he did best. He grew up with his father, Vlad the Impaler, one of history’s most notorious figures. Born in the late 1400s, the High Prince assumed the throne in 1508. His sense of how the world worked and what it took to rule was colored with centuries of bloody wars and treachery. His punishments were brutal, cruel, or outright deadly.

  An idea occurred to David. The witches thought the kidnappers did not know of the High Prince’s presence at the estate. His fearsome reputation always preceded him. Vlad’s name alone might give him the leverage he needed with Stilt.

  “Do you hear the screaming?” David said, walking toward the bound man.

  The man tried to fidget but was too constricted. He pressed his lips together tightly. Apparently, the screaming unnerved him more than he admitted.

  David continued to talk, hoping to sound casual. “I know what you must be thinking. Witches are focused on their mantra “harm none” and the consequences of the rule of three. They wouldn’t do anything to cause the level of screaming you hear. Right?” He paused, giving the man time to think. “What if I’m not the only vampire here? What if it’s someone more ruthless than me?”

  “You’re the witches’ lap dog. You’re not going to do anything they would disapprove. Everyone’s heard of the princess’s plaything. Thanks to her, you have to stay here in hiding. They say you aren’t even a real vampire, and she doesn’t have the stomach for torture,” Stilt quipped.

  If he sought a sore spot to ne
edle, he failed. David snatched the blindfold off Stilt’s head, taking a handful of wild, coarse hair with it. He brought his face level with the smug little man. Bearing his fangs, he snarled.

  “I haven’t fed enough this evening. Want to help me fix that?”

  Stilt’s face lost the smug expression. The scent of fear wafted off of him. Adrenaline perfumed the air. His tawny skin paled slightly at the suggestion. He shook his head. Another piercing scream rented the air. Stilt’s head snapped in the direction of the noise.

  “If you’re not a leprechaun, what are you?” David maintained eye contact. He did not try to compel the creature in an effort to get the information voluntarily. If it did not work, he lost a valuable bluff. The screaming down the hall became louder. David just smiled. The screaming made an excellent bluff in its own right.

  “An imp! I’m an imp!” Genuine fear played around his eyes.

  “Why were you after Cassy?” David became perfectly still. As a human, holding this position for so long was not possible. As a vampire, he had the ability to stand leaned over and remain motionless forever, if he chose.

  “I can’t tell you that. They will kill me!” Stilt shrieked. He wiggled and squirmed in an effort to free himself. “Damn that witch!”

  David chuckled at Stilt’s fail attempts. “If you don’t tell me, I can promise you some of what your friend is getting. Now, I don’t like having to be that rough, but I will be. You tried to take my wife, and that can never be allowed to stand,” he said coldly. Not wanting to put his full force behind a punch, David slapped the imp. The blow landed with a satisfying smacking sound.

  Blood tinged the imp’s lower lip. He ran his tongue along the edge, licking it clean, before spitting in David’s direction. Stilt laughed but with a nervous edge.

  “Go fuck yourself. I’m not telling you anything, you fucking freak.” The defiance had returned. He sat his jaw and seemed to expect another blow.

  In a flash, David was on the imp. Jerking his head to one side, David sank his fangs into flesh. Hot, thick blood filled his mouth. The taste was wrong, unappealing, and unsatisfying. However, he did not let up until the little man cried out for him to stop. David found it easier to let him go than if he had been human.

  David repeated his question. “Why were you after Cassy?”

  “I don’t know! I swear! Seamus said we had to pick her up. That’s all I know,” Stilt said, panicked.

  “I don’t believe you,” David said, jerking the imp’s head to the side once more.

  The doorknob turned slowly. The individual tumblers clicked and clacked as they moved out of the way. Vlad stood in the hall expressionless. Both sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He wiped his hands and forearms on a bloody towel. A coppery scent wafted ahead of him as he entered the room. For a moment, he watched David exposing the imp’s neck for a second strike. A cruel smile spread across the prince’s face.

  “I think I like you better already,” Vlad said, addressing David. Bloodstains showed between his teeth and fangs.

  Stilt screamed. The high-pitched trill rang in David’s sensitive ears.

  * * * *

  Lady Helena poured Cassy a glass of blood-laced wine and handed it to her. It seemed odd to see her doing something so mundane. Usually, she used magic. The smaller breakfast table felt more intimate. Cassy supposed the setting made doing it by hand more appealing.

  “You don’t have to give me that look. I can do a great many things without magic. I was young once, you know. We all have to grow into our powers, just as you do. I just thought you might have had enough magic for one night,” Helena said. She offered Cassy a kind smile.

  Cassy sipped the wine. It tasted off, almost nasty. She did her best to swallow the sip and sat the glass down. For a split second, she had an overwhelming urge to give into her bloodlust.

  There was a strong steady pulse sitting beside her. It took her another few seconds to fight the temptation. The warm vibration deep within her perked up with the bloodlust and then quieted down as she won out over the urge.

  A young witch dressed in similar fashion to a Roman centurion entered from the sunken palm-lined court. She gave a salute to the elder witch by placing a clenched fist over her heart and bowing slightly.

  “Yes, Maiden, what have you found?” Lady Helena asked. She folded her hands in front of her on the table.

  “Lady, the portal in the woods does indeed go to Avalon. We observed a wooded area by the lake, and it is out of sight of the main hilltop fortress,” the centurion reported. She paused, as if waiting for a response.

  “Did you find anything else?” Helena continued.

  “Yes, Lady, we did. There is a second portal. We did not enter it, but we did see a room with a bed and a sleeping vampire woman. We believe it to be the missing Crown Prince’s wife, Elisabeta,” the centurion added.

  “Liz! You found Liz! Is the portal still open? Can we go get her?” Cassy was suddenly overexcited. She stood too fast, and the ceiling spun for a moment. She sat back down and laid her head on the table.

  Lady Helena placed a hand on Cassy’s shoulder. “My dear, you are unwell. Let me take you to your room,” Helena offered.

  “But what about Liz? We can’t just leave her there!” The dizziness stopped. She stood more slowly than last time. The world seemed to stay as it should.

  “Lady Cassandra, the portal would not let us through. It was designed to keep out all but those with fae heritage. We cannot rescue her in the here and now, but we will keep watch through the portal,” the centurion said. Regret colored her voice.

  Cassy believed her sincerity. The witches always gave her their honest assessment of any situation. To lie might invoke the rule of three.

  “Not to worry. They will have placed a stasis spell on the portals. No one on the other side will be able to see or use them. If only someone of fae heritage can use them, we will have to determine who can safely get through. Rushing headlong into this could prove disastrous. Have patience, child. Let us work through the problem. They took one of our Mothers. We will not let this be brushed aside,” Lady Helena said. The elder witch sounded calm and collected, but her eyes raged at the mention of the missing witch.

  Cassy knew the Council of Crones employed people and spies all over the world. She also knew from past experiences to slight one witch is to slight them all. Whoever was behind the kidnappings had to know this. Taking a witch was either a mistake or an act of desperation. Cassy hoped it was a mistake. Desperate people oftentimes made the most dangerous opponents.

  “You’re right. I think I will lie down, make an early day of it. I feel so tired all of a sudden. Thank you, Lady, for the wine and the pep talk,” Cassy said. She turned to the centurion. “And thank you for keeping an eye on Liz until we can bring her home.”

  The young witch placed her open palm over her heart and made a bow to Cassy. She faced Lady Helena, closed her hand into a fist, and bowed deeper. She turned and walked with confident strides from the room.

  Cassy made it to the door when Helena called out, “Take this. You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

  Cassy turned around to find a bag of donated human blood floating to her. She held out her hands. The bag came to rest in her palms, warm and soft. A twinge of regret tugged at her. There was no heartbeat or throbbing pulse to go with the metallic red nectar. Her fangs ran out almost painfully fast.

  Embarrassed at her reaction, Cassy mumbled a thank you and darted to her room in a blur. The fire burst into life as she entered, shutting the door with a little too much force. It slammed behind her. She leaned against the ornate wood, holding her new treasure to her chest. The bag’s temperature felt warm but in the process of cooling. She needed to hurry or else risk needing to microwave the whole bag.

  Instead of uncapping it and pouring some into a mug or glass, Cassy popped the top and began sucking on the plastic valve. Delicious, coppery blood ran across her tongue. Each suck pulled the sweet essence of hu
man out of the bag. Suddenly, the valve was not able to give as much as she needed. She put the cap back on and bit into the soft, flexible pouch. The thick plastic gave a tiny pop as her fangs pierced the side. The contents flooded her mouth. She tasted every drop flowing past her lips.

  At last, the bag emptied. She dropped the now useless container on the floor and fell facedown onto the bed. She did not bother getting undressed. Cassy drifted off to the sounds of the crackling fire.

  * * * *

  David kept a straight face. It had not taken Vlad long to extract all the information from Stilt. The threat of being left alone with Vlad gave the imp all the incentive he needed to talk.

  “Are you sure you have nothing left to tell us? Make certain of your answer before you speak,” Vlad warned. He licked the little man’s bleeding arm. The bite marks healed where the prince’s tongue made contact. David knew the prince used trace amounts of his own blood to heal the wounds.

  “That’s all I know. Seamus led us to her at the top of the earthen ramp. We were to take her to Avalon and turn her over to Queen Mab. The money was to be pulled out of her personal accounts and transferred to a Swiss account. Queen Mab is only hosting the women. I don’t know who made the arrangements or why. I promise! Don’t bite me again! Please! No!”

  The High Prince sank fangs into the man’s arm once more. A few mouthfuls later, he let go. This time he did not bother closing the wound.

  “I taste truth in vhat you say,” Vlad told the imp. He walked around behind the bound man. “And now, I vill give you mercy for cooperating.” His Romanian accent held a primal growl in the undertones.

  “Thank you, thank you! Please, have mercy. Let me go! I have to hide from Mab! Give me asylum, or let me go to find a safe place to —” Stilt’s sentence was cut short by the snap of his neck. His eyes rolled up as his head slumped to one side. A puff of dust boiled up from the chair. In an instant, the only thing left of the imp was a pile of soil.

 

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