So, I complain about all that I have seen and been put through, but there is no need for it. There is no cause for concern. Without Daffyd, I would not be at the top of the pyramid. In fact, I would be in the catacombs or dead.
That is why, standing here in front of him, with only lies about to spew from my mouth, I feel a little nervous. We are and have been at an uncomfortable place in our relationship for the better part of sixty years. He finds his whores to sleep with, and I find solace in the fact that they will never come close to my stature. It’s the small, petty victories that keep me going. This time, it’s not a small, petty victory I seek. It’s an uphill battle of enormous proportion to be what I am so close to but do not have.
“I want to talk to you about Mason.” We’re in bed. Daffyd’s reading a book. Whatever it might be, I don’t really care. I am doing the same. A brilliant piece of literature about an apocalypse.
This statement throws him off guard. I’ve been very secretive in my dealings with Mason. Secretive enough to keep it all hidden, yet open enough so that he knows precisely that something is definitely going on between us.
“What? You gonna tell me you’re screwing him?” He hides the question between the lines of a joke, but I know he’s completely serious.
“No. I tried, but he denied.” He laughs, thinking it nothing more a joke. He doesn’t need to know everything that transpires between us.
“Then what do you want to talk about?” He puts the book down on the night stand. I do the same to get into the seriousness of it. This is where the nervousness comes in. It’s comparable to that of your first kiss. The way your first crush or love would look into your eyes and send butterflies spilling out.
“I went to him as a friend more than anything else. I wanted to ask him if he would do me a favor. Rather, do us a favor. Something small but huge at the same time.”
Daffyd says nothing, just turns on his side to look at me.
“Have you ever considered being the real mighty power among the vampires? Forgetting about the bonds the council has over you? Taking charge and dominating wherever you go?” I know he’s considered it. He’s considered it to such an extent that he’s already promised the position to a good few men. Men that I have, with my many means and vices, won over to eventually join my side. Daffyd doesn’t know what I’m planning, but I do hope that he will be foolish enough to fall for my scheme.
“What are you suggesting?”
“The council is a stuffy organization, full of stuffy people that only want to bring you down. Bring us down. We haven’t been on top of our relationship lately. You’ve been busy, and so have I. I don’t want that anymore. We are bound together for eternity. I don’t want to bicker for an eternity. It’s not the way things should be,” I appeal to the hopeless romantic in him. The one that may have once been madly in love with me, but has now become so comfortable in his ways that he can’t bear to look at me the same way he looks at the fledgling horde that pours through our doors.
“And what does Mason have to do with any of this?” Now it’s do or die time. If this next piece goes well, my plan will come to fruition, and we will be rid of the tyrants that are the current council. If not, then we are stuck in the same old rut.
“I know you and Mason are not on the best of terms since he took the girl a decade ago, but I don’t think that should stop us from using him. He is a valuable asset. You will not have to deal with him throughout this ordeal, but I do believe he should be the one to execute the council.”
He thinks for a while. Contemplating my words.
“And why can’t we just get a few of our best-trained soldiers to go in there?” He knows the answer, and so do I. Our soldiers may be strong, but they are by no means the best. If they go in there to fight the council, they will be slaughtered.
“The gatekeeper alone has more power than they do in total. Let’s be honest. Mason, an outsider, has the ability to shatter the council from head to toe, single handedly. No loss if he does die, and only gain if he succeeds.”
Daffyd goes into his quiet contemplation again.
“I have a meeting with the council soon. We will be discussing a great deal on the losses we have faced in this war and the most recent loss of trade in having lost the trade routes under Torrine Castle. I will take my time to consider what you have offered while I am away with them. Are you prepared to truly face what will come if we attempt this, though, Brooke? It’s not the same as saying it. Dealing with the council is not going to be a small-time takeover. If we fail, we are all going to be killed. If we succeed, we will be the mightiest vampires in existence with all the power we will control. Do we even have the potential to truly deal with this?”
“Yes,” I reply. “We will be gods.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Venice
“When the dead communicate with me, I don’t really say who, what, or why; I just follow the leads they are providing.” The man before me continues his conversation about communicating with the ghosts from the in-between. “So, when they told me you wanted to see me, I came over because they seldom disappoint. Be it for a serious event, or more just for the fun of whatever’s going to transpire – and I’m going, to be honest, a coven of witches and warlocks cannot be all that bad to be around.”
“I would like to ask you a question about what you just said.” I can’t help but be curious. “Are you a necromancer? You seem to wield the power of something far greater, yet you can speak with the dead. There must be something about you that they are attracted to.” A necromancer. They are rare.
“I dabbled in necromancing for a while, but no, I wouldn’t say I’m a necromancer. I call myself a traveler, but even that doesn’t quite explain what I really am.” I look him over. A time traveler? He does seem to have walked directly out of the eighteen-hundreds.
“Then what else is it you can do?”
“I know you must be curious, little one, but I don’t think that this is the time or place to talk about that. After all, I don’t want to scare the children.” I think that is a subtle comment to me and my brother. We sit here together, even though Atticus is only around to make sure that everything runs smoothly.
“I assure you, we are not children.”
“And I assure you, I am used to dealing with far greater people than you.” The first biting comment. It stings, but I say nothing. I try not to let it surface, either. “So what is it that the in-between find worthy enough to bring me to you? Hmm? Seriousness, or the entertainment value of it all?”
The condescending nature of what he’s saying is rather upsetting. Still, I keep it hidden. I will not crack.
“Our coven, as you can see, is well established and growing bigger by the day. We are becoming a force to be reckoned with. The witches have been treated as slaves and servants to the vampires for too long, and we are not going to stand for it any longer. We are fighting to bring our people into a new future. A better future. They trust us. I don’t expect you to trust us as your leaders the way they do, not this soon, but I would like to extend the offer of our coven and its resources to you as a token of good faith, so long as you are willing to join us.”
Very well put, I think.
“Very well put,” Victor says as if he read my mind. “But I don’t believe that this is the correct course of action for me. I am not much of a coven man. I never have been, and don’t intend on becoming one anytime soon. That, and your coven is new. You’ve not found your feet, and though this Mount Umbra is quite the power source – I can sense it brimming out of the Earth – I will have to respectfully decline the offer. Maybe someday, when your great-great-grandchildren are in charge and the coven has grown into something respectable, but I cannot put my reputation on the line for your misadventures.”
Very well put, I think. Succinct and excellent, still cutting to the bone. Victor rises from his seat, turning around. He has nothing else to say, and neither do I. Atticus blocks him for a second. Not by any means a big man, Victor
is towered over by my brother. A fearless brute. I can tell they both are, but Atticus moves and lets him move past.
We don’t need him.
It will have just been helpful.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Daffyd
The troublesome journey to the council spans over its week-long course as it always does with a few complications in turns of terrible weather making it last even longer this time. On arrival, the gatekeeper stands as he always does, watching and waiting, ready to lead me through the cavernous region. I can tell this time, even from far, there is an off touch about him. He’s not upset. Far from it. He might even be happy.
“King Daffyd Llanneli.” His somber, monotonous voice speaks out.
“Gatekeeper,” I reply.
“We will talk while we make our way to the council. They have instructed I give you a briefing.” Oh great. This can only be something that will end well for both of us...
“Go on then.” He begins walking, and I follow.
“The council wishes me to inform you of their irritation in terms of this event. They know they will not be able to hold their tongue and have given me the task to break it calmly to you in order for the wave of their emotion to not cause too much concern.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are to remain king, but you are on thin ice. So thin, in fact, that if you make one wrong move, you will no longer be a king but instead a pauper. The council finds your methods of dealing with the Forsaken and now the loss against the Werewolves to be appalling. They will give you a full briefing inside. Now, prepare yourself for this. I believe that is all we had to discuss.” Then we walk in silence. Through the cavern, into the simulated beauty of a garden hidden beneath open skies. The ice, their shelter, all an illusion. They want to have the high life of the Veil but know that they will be too close to what they dictate over.
The doorman is waiting, much like the gatekeeper as they always do. They knew I was arriving. This ceremony. It’s one to be rid of.
“I will be going in now. I will not be staying here for a while. I came alone not to burden my people.” The doorman nods his agreement and opens the door for me to enter.
Then I make my way to the council, who since my last visit have been seemingly unmoving. Their eyes the only thing focusing on me.
“Council,” I bow.
“King Llanneli,” They return the gesture of good will.
“I hear there is a bitterness toward my actions and my loss. Then so be it. Speak your minds, councilmembers. Let me hear what the bad news is.”
“There is no time for childish joking, Daffyd,” They haven’t called me Daffyd in years. Not since before I became king, in fact. I suddenly realize the weight of the situation I am under, “You promised us an early victory ten years ago before we signed on the war. Then with a hand at more power, again you promised the slaughter of your foe. The Forsaken, we knew, would not be killed. Still, they had potential to be weakened. Rather than do as you promised against them, you focused your attentions in too many directions. Breaking the focus off the main fight to fend off a few pathetic dogs. In turn, you have lost troops, lieutenants, and worst of all, leaders of your zones. That was the first great loss. When you lost your commanding officers to a few shifters and they took it as such a great victory, they left without a care in the world because they took what they wanted. Then the Forsaken, where you bowed down before Zeus and kissed his ring in order to stop another war that was meant to be over with their heads on our platters. Now? The very same dogs I mentioned earlier have destroyed your day trade routes. Those routes, if you’ve forgotten, are what sustain the Veil, Daffyd. The Veil, Torrine Castle, it’s all gone out the window because you do not deliver what you promise. You have asked us to give you full control of the war situation; we did. You claim troops and money, and you do nothing with it but lose.”
They go silent.
“I understand.”
“Do you?” They ask again. “Do you understand the implications of these actions? You are giving the Forsaken, the shifters, and the ‘wolves’ power over you with every loss you take.”
“And what of all the victories I have claimed?” My eyes drift between the seven.
“The victories are pointless when they are small and the defeats are great. This is your last chance, King Daffyd. If you do not prove yourself worthy of the title of King, we will strip you of it and give it to one who is worthy. If you cannot show us that there is hope in you, we will not give you the time of day. Now go. We have said all we have to discuss.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Ankh
My father has been sent down as an emissary for the Forsaken to discuss the girl that had gone missing. In sharing the information with them that the girl was a Forsaken, herself, they began their own sequence of events looking into her and all that she stands for and so on and so forth. Interesting, I must say, how fast they gather their information and resources. I had not told them two days ago, and they have already returned. All they needed was that initial drop of information.
Something that I wasn’t told was why I was needed for this, apart from maybe being a link between the two worlds (for my father has never truly been one to dwell in the human realm for too long). He came to me earlier tonight, speaking about the girl and what she means. What she represents. It’s not something you often see in Ra. The excitement of catching someone who has done his people wrong. Among the Forsaken, he is a high-ranking leader, up there with Odin, Zeus, and so on. Those who conduct the business for the entire realm.
“So why are we in wolf territory, Father?” We stand opposite the shore to where the wolves claimed the peace grounds as their new hunting grounds.
“We are here to speak with them. We believe they are harboring a criminal.”
“A criminal?”
“Indeed.”
Ra raises his hand, and as he does so, the water parts ways. Much like Moses and the Red Sea. I find it complicated, those times of our existence, but they are definitely intriguing. How humanity didn’t notice their god’s influence in their mundane tasks. We begin walking through. I touch the water, but as long as my father keeps his hand up, nothing happens. We get to the other side, climbing out of the lake bed and waiting.
It doesn’t take long for one of Romulus’ many scouts come growling from inside the woods.
“Take us to your master now, or I will not hesitate to find him,” the only thing my father says. They listen. Even going so far as to shift back into human form to lead us to Romulus.
“Who is this criminal they are harboring?” I ask.
“I do not know who he is. We have a hunch,” he answers.
“You’re going off a hunch into territories we do not understand?” I feel an overwhelming sense of panic wash over me.
“I know what I’m doing,” That’s the end of that conversation, and I know it. It doesn’t help that Romulus is upon us now, too.
“The Forsaken coming to visit little old me?” His eyes take us both in. Assessing our threat levels. We have none and he knows it. The hostilities are unnecessary.
“We are under the impression you have a man who has committed numerous atrocities against the Forsaken. We do not believe you have any involvement in his crimes but one.” My father raises his hand again, and a small fire burns around his palm until it is gone and replaced by a parchment. “Victor Cane, Delaney, Logan,” he continues listing off multiple surnames that the man has used over the years for a while. “And the list goes on. He has claimed and sacrificed a Forsaken child no older than seventeen. We must take him in for his crimes.”
“And where is your proof of my crimes?” A voice comes from behind. The man that walks out in front of me looks nothing special. The only true indication of an odd nature would be his attire. Formal. Formal in a different sense than I would imagine. His white shirt beneath, layered with a waistcoat, going into very fancy pants and black point tip shoes. A beautiful, billowing coat and top hat to bri
ng it all together. What may be irregular about this attire? The fact that it’s from another life time. My father wears his ceremonial robes from the Egyptian era because that is where he is set. This man is in a modern era of civilization. I want to ask, but he is being accused of great crimes, and I would not want to discuss attire with a man who may be sentenced to a punishment far worse than death.
“I did not hear you were coming. This is unusual for me,” he says, a pipe being pulled from his pocket. He lights it up and puffs away. “I was just on business, Romulus. I will deal with them now. Whatever I’m being accused of is wrong anyway,” he confidently spits out.
“You are accused of heinous crimes against a Forsaken child.” He doesn’t look confused. He also doesn’t seem afraid. I do not like the way this could go.
“And your proof is?”
“We do not understand you. Now that you are in company, I can feel the power radiating off of you.” Gesturing a few hand signs, Victor gets trapped in some form of spell. He doesn’t try to fight it. He gives in willingly.
I have a bad feeling about this, I must say.
“Come, son. Let us see justice brought down upon a criminal.” A portal opens. With the spell that binds him, Victor flies into what seems to be a cell. The gates lock before we even have a chance to step in.
“Forgive us, alpha wolf, for using your land to do our dirty business.”
My father is always respectful in these situations.
Romulus does nothing but nod.
“Romulus,” Victor says, “you may be getting a small surprise from me shortly. I will be back soon to discuss the future with you.”
My father steps through, then I. I can’t believe he truly sees a way out of this predicament, but there is something off about this Victor character. I just can’t place my finger on him. Not yet.
The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown Page 11