Nothing had gone as it should.
Did Seraphine even know that her friend had been captured? Executed? Killed beneath the ground and not by his axe?
Would she even care that his role had been minimal?
Deep down, he suspected Seraphine knew. He hoped so because he didn’t want to be the one to tell her.
Guilt plagued him as he finished making the huge pillar for the bonfire. Three dozen persons were to be killed.
More correctly, sacrificed, for the goddess Queen Lyon.
He stepped back. The speed of his craft had rendered it disorderly and cluttered. The queen might not be pleased with his shoddy handiwork, but he didn’t care. The runes should work.
Maybe he should…
No.
Quickly, he gathered Marwin’s head and body. He was not going to burn the man as he had been instructed. Instead, he rushed through the division, trying not to draw attention to himself. If his magic worked correctly, none could see, smell, or detect the large bag he carried.
He made his way through the streets, past shops, beyond houses, and farther out where the vampires lived.
Antoine was taking a risk, a big change, but he had to do this.
He owed it to her.
Before he ventured too far, the wind blew a gust that wasn’t caused by the storm.
“Seraphine?” he asked, glancing around.
She stared at him. Her face was as much an indifferent mask as the queen’s could be.
He hesitated, trying to tell if she was angry, hostile, hurt, or sorrowful.
No emotions were revealed, which made him feel more nervous and anxious.
Antoine opened his mouth, but no words came out. He removed his magical shield over the bag and laid it gently at her feet.
“The least I can do,” he murmured. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Are you?” she asked. Her eyes flashed with pain. “Do you know what this will mean for us?”
“I have an idea.”
“She’s mad, Antoine. You know she is. She’s going to kill everyone.”
“It won’t get to that point.” He brushed his hair back, ignoring the painful squeeze of his heart.
“And you call me naïve.” She shook her head. “Open your eyes and realize what she’s done.”
Seraphine kneeled down and closed her eyes as she brushed her hands along Marwin’s hair and his shoulder.
Antoine said nothing, not wishing to intrude. Maybe he should leave. He had done what he’d come for.
After a long moment, Seraphine rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she murmured.
A bloody tear streaked down her cheek. After a few deep breaths, she visibly recovered, and a sheen of fierce determination glistened in her eyes.
She would not let this go, he realized.
Seraphine was driven. Tough. Courageous. Powerful. She was strong, intense, and fearless.
Some witches claimed vampires felt no remorse, no emotions at all.
At least for Seraphine, that was not the case.
Before he could register what he was doing, Antoine crossed over to her and held her, hugged her. For a moment, she stood there, motionless, but then she leaned her cheek on his shoulder. Her arms did not wrap around him. The hug was not returned, but she accepted the embrace just the same.
“Thank you,” she repeated, pulling back slightly to glance up at him.
A wild thought crossed his mind. Seraphine was beautiful. What would it be like to kiss her?
But then he noticed the bloody smear mark on her cheek from her tear. The grotesque sight made him back away and release her.
“You’re welcome.” He hesitated. “I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t. Why?”
He shook his head. Another of the protectors, the youngest one to be promoted, a nineteen-year-old Sergio Ortega, had been pining and begging to swing the axe.
“Just let me wear your hood. The queen will never know the difference. I know just what to do,” Sergio had begged time and again.
It had been all too easy to allow Sergio a swing Antoine did not think he could perform.
“You give me hope,” Seraphine said softly. “Whenever I’m at my darkest, you give me hope. I appreciate that.”
“Hope is important,” he said with no shortage of caution.
“But I am the only vampire with hope. That’s the problem.” She turned and took a few steps away. Her magical cloak fluttered in the storm winds. “The others vampires want to either live underground for the rest of time or else they’re considering…”
“Considering what?” he asked, confused. Whatever it was, Seraphine was clearly dead set against it.
“Considering trying to survive a venture to another division.”
Antoine’s frustration forced a startled cough. “That’s a terrible plan. The queen won’t stop even if all vampires are gone. She will turn against the humans next and then the other witches.”
“She already has, right?” Seraphine’s tone was critical. “What can you tell me about the rumors of a bonfire?”
“Why won’t the vampires stand up for everyone?” Antoine wondered.
“Why should they when no one stood up for them?” Her counter held anger and sorrow.
“You have,” he corrected.
Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “So did Marwin. Where did it get him?”
The two stared down at Marwin’s body, and at that moment, Antoine realized what he must do.
14
Seraphine was touched, both shocked and pleased, that Antoine thought to give her Marwin’s body to bury. She was also ripped apart by grief and guilt. Marwin would still be alive if not for her. First Liliane and now Marwin. How high would the body count reach?
“If the vampires and the witches and humans won’t all work together despite their differences, Queen Lyon will reign until she dies. How many will she kill before that day comes?” Seraphine asked, devoid of feeling, almost removed from her emotion.
Savage like an assassin, like a killer.
Like the queen believes all vampires to be.
“That day must come,” Seraphine announced. “And it will come. By my hand. Or fangs.” She flashed a wide, toothy grin.
Antoine shuddered. “No, Seraphine. You can’t—”
“No one gets to tell me what I can and can’t do,” she said in hot dispute, crossing her arms.
“I only mean that I think it’s next to impossible for a vampire to kill her. She’s so well protected. Pierrette Lyon even has a guard inside her bedroom every night and another posted outside the door. No vampire could ever come near her with the intent of harming her.”
“Next to impossible is not impossible.” She grinned with reckless abandon.
“Seraphine! Damn it. I told you about my nightmare. What if you fail, and that’s why she has me kill you?”
“So now you think it’s a vision?” she asked, confused. He had been pretty adamant against the theory before.
“What if it is?”
“Then I’ll die by your hands and the queen by…”
“Not the queen,” he corrected. “She lives. It’s me who the blade turns on.”
“I will not allow her to kill those people in the dungeon!”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“But—”
“Seraphine!”
“Antoine!”
She marched closer to him, chest heaving. The blood within her was almost too much, and it caused her emotions to be amplified.
It forced her to recognize a truth she wished she could un-see.
She cared for Antoine.
She did not want him to die because of her.
She didn’t want him to die period.
Why would being forced to decapitate her upset him so much that he would turn against his queen? Why would he try to murder his queen after killing Seraphine?
Her heart pounded in her chest. It was the strangest sensation, something a
vampire should not ever experience.
And now it was time to face another experience not designed for vampires.
Seraphine gripped Antoine’s face, closed her eyes, and firmly pressed her lips against his.
The witch didn’t hesitate. He wove his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer, deepening the kiss. A fire lit within her, and for once, she wasn’t afraid of the flames. In fact, she welcomed them.
Antoine pulled away first, heaving down breaths. His eyes were hooded. Clearly, he’d been as affected as she was. Even his eyes expressed her feelings. Shocked. Timid. Curious. Afraid.
But not guilt.
And maybe a little sorrow.
Because that really should never happen again.
“Do not go against the queen,” Antoine said.
She opened her mouth to argue.
He pressed a firm finger to her lips. “Not without an army behind your back,” he added.
“If my dying—”
“I don’t want to kill you,” he said.
“You’re just terrified of your nightmare.”
“Damn straight, I am.”
They stared at each other for a few breaths. Then Antoine glanced at Marwin’s body.
“I don’t have the time to stay for a burial. I must go back.”
A pang of regret hit Seraphine over the kiss now. Otherwise, Antoine might have stayed.
“Not two minutes?” she asked.
He hesitated. “Five but no more.”
She secured two shovels from a nearby vampire’s dwelling. The fool enjoyed working in a garden even though no flowers ever bloomed.
Seraphine quickly led him to her dwelling. Using her great speed, she had a grave nearly dug in the backyard in three minutes. For the next minute, she and Antoine completed the grave. The experience altered and became therapeutic as she slowed her pace to that of a human’s, finishing the task as Marwin would’ve for her.
Carefully, delicately, she placed the body and head into the grave.
“Marwin, I have so many regrets,” Seraphine whispered. “I shut myself off after Liliane. I didn’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone. I didn’t want to share my sorrow with anyone. I didn’t know you had been in her life back then, but it wasn’t a surprise to learn that others were looking out for her. She was really special.”
She swallowed hard and refused to look at Antoine.
“You were special too. You had such a huge heart. Large enough to take in stray kids. Large enough to believe a young girl who befriended a vampire and to help that vampire years later. Large enough to die for a cause you embraced. For my cause.”
Another tear streaked down her cheek. As before, she didn’t bother to wipe it away.
“I regret we had such a short time to be friends. I wish you could be here to see Ville de Liberté in the future. When it really is free. When it really is a place of liberty. Because I will do whatever it takes to make that happen even if it costs my life too.”
Her throat closing, Seraphine lowered her head, unable to go on. If she said more, the tears she was holding at bay might break. Her heart was already fracturing from sorrow and grief. She had only felt this level of sadness once before when Liliane had died.
Antoine cleared his throat. “Marwin, I’m sorry there wasn’t a way for me to save you. I don’t know if you would’ve preferred me to swing the axe or not, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. The world is darkening, and not just because of the rain season. It’s because your light is gone. Not everyone in this division had a light, but yours was especially bright. I’m sorry to see you go.”
He turned to her, clasped her shoulder, and left without another word.
It took Seraphine a few moments to compose herself before she dropped the first shovel of dirt onto Marwin. Painfully, slowly, she buried him.
Then her eyes closed. She staggered. Her knees grew weak, and she felt a strong lure toward sleep. This sensation confused her. It made no sense, and then it did.
Antoine. When he’d touched her. He must have put a spell on her that she would lose consciousness once she finished burying Marwin.
To save her from going to the bonfire. From witnessing it. Or from trying to prevent it.
Despite the amount of blood in her body, she could only fight his magic for about a minute before she finally succumbed.
The moment Seraphine stirred, she jumped to her feet and hurried to the clearing. Was this where the devastating bonfire would take place?
Opposite the death platform was a burnt, ruined structure.
Was that supposed to be the pillar for the bonfire? Had it happened already?
But, no. Thousands crowded in the clearing, with more trying to push their way through.
Seraphine shoved people aside, throwing glowers and hateful glares at anyone who shouted at her. They all immediately backed off. At least they recognized she wasn’t someone to mess with, especially not right now.
The queen was nowhere in sight. Neither was Antoine. No protectors either.
What was going on?
She asked the person beside her, a human.
“Don’t know. We were told to gather here for that bonfire, but nothing’s happening yet.” The female human shrugged.
The bonfire hadn’t happened yet!
Seraphine glanced upward at the nearby rooftops. Sure enough, other vampires were present, waiting, watching the proceedings.
Antoine’s plan had surely failed. If it hadn’t been for all the blood she’d consumed, she would remain unconscious.
But she had no game plan, no idea what was going on. To do something while in the dark would be reckless and foolish.
She would wait and see if an opportunity would arise.
Maybe the queen wouldn’t show. The coward.
But only a minute later, the queen burst onto her large platform from behind a red velvet curtain. She displayed a tight smile, but her eyes were narrowed, full of scorn, wrath, and fury.
“Citizens of Ville de Liberté,” she called out. Her words silenced the confused grumbling of the crowd. “It is with my regret and sincere disappointment that today’s bonfire has been postponed until tomorrow.”
The crowd shifted uncomfortably, each person glancing around for reactions by others. A few focused at what might’ve been the bonfire pillar.
But no one said a word. The queen demanded and received that much respect.
“Someone has sabotaged the bonfire pillar,” she said.
Now, the crowd murmured and gasped, horrified, confused. Some seemed angry and bitter.
Even the vampires were riled up. That humans were to be punished meant something to them. Rumors had spread that a witch or two were supposed to be burned too.
Now that would be a sight to see.
Seraphine winced at her thought. Did Antoine have that tendency? To fall back into old ways of thinking? She knew he and Noella were different and hoped other witches were too, or else her plan would never be fruitful.
But did she honestly believe that some witches could be good and decent?
She had to. She must believe that.
Because her hope for a new world demanded it.
“No one other than a witch could have sabotaged the pillar,” the queen continued.
The thick blood in her veins slowed, and Seraphine could scarcely breathe. Antoine. Had he done this? If he had and the queen learned of his betrayed, she would likely kill him herself.
Blinded by fear and sorrow, Seraphine pushed through the crowd toward the queen. Pierrette Lyon and the world she lorded over had taken too much from her already. She couldn’t bear to lose another.
“Has the culprit been found?” Seraphine called out.
The queen scanned the crowd for the speaker. Her dark brown eyes narrowed when she located Seraphine. Revulsion and disgust twisted her features.
“Yes,” she said coolly. “I located the fiend myself.”
Don’t let it be Antoine. Don’t let it be N
oella. Don’t let it be either of them.
Was she praying? She had read about faith and the notions of good versus evil. No one followed the old religions anymore. In fact, some of the queen’s fanatics worshiped her as if she were a goddess.
If there was a god, Seraphine was praying to him or her. Then again, vampires tended toward evil, so why would a supreme being show her mercy? In fact, he or she might even laugh at the cruel trick if the guilty party was one of her friends.
“Bring him out,” the queen demanded. She threw back her arm toward the curtain with a grand flourish.
The curtains parted, and Seraphine sighed. Relief washed over her.
It wasn’t Antoine. Or Noella.
Well, Antoine was there wearing his hood, but he was one of the protectors bringing out the guilty party.
The condemned female witch faced the crowd with light brown hair and matching eyes, much younger than Noella. Her most startling feature was her thin lips. They were twisted with contempt and anger. Somehow, Seraphine had the impression that the witch’s anger was geared more toward herself than at the queen.
Interesting. Who was she? Why had she done this?
Had Antoine talked to her? Told her their plans?
A sudden thought caused her stomach to churn violently with a shock of jealousy.
What if this witch and Antoine were together? Maybe Antoine had a plan to save her or…
Maybe she should stop thinking and start listening.
“Benjamine Hardy, do you deny the charge that you devastated the bonfire pillar?”
“I do not deny it,” Benjamine said. Although she spoke softly, her voice carried some serious weight.
“Why would you fight against me, against your division, against your brothers and sisters?”
“Because of you. Because you’re fighting our brothers and sisters. Do you know how many people have said something in jest that sounds horrible and cruel? Things that are not meant to be taken at face value? Or when you’re angry and upset, have you never said anything you’ve come to regret? A few of those you meant to make examples of have mentioned silly things about the future, and—”
“Silly things!” the queen roared as if she were a lion. “Who are you to judge their words when you do not know what they said?”
Dark Hunt: Division 4: The Berkano Vampire Collection Page 11