The Red Lily (Vampire Blood)

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The Red Lily (Vampire Blood) Page 17

by Juliette Cross


  “And so you did run. Into the woods where your grandmother lived.”

  “Yes,” she answered with pride and a tilted smile. “I could never abide cruelty. The nurse always said I was too sensitive and should know my station. And that I gave too much time to the feeble animals in the barnyard than I did my lessons. She scolded me once for giving cream every morning to a stray kitten in the yard, saying I was being wasteful giving good cream to a creature on the verge of death. That the sickly kitten was too far gone and couldn’t be saved.”

  “And did the kitten live?”

  “No,” she replied, voice wavering. “She was too small and too sick like she’d said. But I nursed the little gray creature for two weeks, hoping for the best.”

  Nikolai imagined little Sienna sitting in the barnyard and feeding the kitten, offering it compassion when no one else would. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips to the underside of her fingers, then clasped her hand against his chest. “It is in your nature to help those who cannot help themselves. That is not cruel. That is the greatest kindness.”

  “Even when the poor creature has no chance of life?”

  “Especially then. You gave that creature two weeks of compassion and care. That is mercy.” He brushed a loose curl of hair at her temple, then wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck, drawing her close. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Yes, your outward beauty is a bright beacon all men covet and most assuredly many less confident women despise. But they are all fools.” He trailed his hand, flattening his palm over her heart. “For it is the beauty that lies in here that would be the envy of the world. If they could see what I see.”

  She pressed both her hands over his, her bosom rising and falling on a deep breath, her green eyes bright with tears, and a sweet smile she seemed to hold only for him. “I have no words for that, Nikolai,” she said on a little laugh. “I always thought myself wicked for my selfish love of animals over mankind. Over my mother and my nurse. Animals weren’t cruel or heartless like the humans I’d known. I always thought, maybe I am the witch they proclaim me to be.”

  He smiled, leaning down to sweep his lips across hers. “You have certainly bewitched me.” He pried her lips open gently, just enough to stroke his tongue against hers and taste the sweet divinity that was Sienna. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her palm before stepping away on a heavy sigh. No time for indulgence now.

  “Get your gloves on, sweetheart, and saddle up. I want to get Dale’s Peak behind us.”

  After a moment’s pause, she snapped to and reached for Astrophel’s reins. “And what then?”

  “You know what then.” He wrapped up what was left of the oats, stashed them away, and buckled the saddlebag. After launching himself into the saddle, he arched a brow at her. “Cutters Cove.”

  She shook her head and saddled up astride, then pulled on her gloves she’d tucked under the saddle by the horn. “Nikolai, I’ve told you. Once this is over, I’m returning to my cottage in Silvane Forest. My heart aches that I’ve been gone this long.”

  “Well, then let’s skip Dale’s Peak and head straight there.” He clicked to Ramiel and veered through the trees toward the path. “A good month’s rest for the two of us in your cottage before we sail for Cutters Cove would do us both some good.”

  “Ha! First of all, we’re not skipping Dale’s Peak. We need the recruits. And I doubt seriously the two of us would do much resting holed up in my cottage for a month. You are a devil, lieutenant.”

  He captured her gaze, knowing full well the smoldering look he gave her was what put the sudden blush in her cheeks. “You have no idea, my sweet. But I plan to show you.”

  …

  It was mid-morning when they reached the Bluestone Mountain Range. Snow-capped peaks in the far distance guided them toward their destination. Winding through the foothills, Nikolai stopped at a gurgling brook and let Ramiel drink. Sienna stopped beside him and did the same. He caught her staring at the mountainous horizon.

  “Is it beginning to feel familiar?”

  “Yes.” She flashed him a smile, once more reminding him how weak he was where this woman was concerned. “Though my home is now in Silvane Forest, I have missed these lovely mountains. I always did love them.”

  Nikolai nudged Ramiel forward. He took the lead across the shallow brook, wanting to be sure there were no loose rocks that might make Astrophel stumble. The icy water sloshed, a drop hitting his hand.

  Sienna squealed. He whirled around in his saddle to find her grinning and sitting with her knees drawn up. “It’s cold,” she laughed. “Some splashed my leg.”

  Letting out a sigh of relief, he clicked to Ramiel to climb up the small embankment. He did with ease. As did Astrophel. The path forked, one road leading down through the trees, the other crossed an open prairie.

  “Both of these roads lead to Dale’s Peak. We’ll take the northerly route to use the cover of trees. It’s a bit rockier but we—”

  He stopped on an instant. That smell. And there was the faint sound that often accompanied such an odor.

  “What is it, Nikolai?”

  He jerked his head to the left, the direction of the northerly path through the woods. He narrowed his gaze over the treetops, finding the plumes of smoke he sought.

  “You’re scaring me. What do you see?”

  Ramiel whinnied, as if he too could hear and smell death nearby.

  “Come. Swiftly,” he ordered and heeled Ramiel into a gallop down the lane.

  At the first break in the tree line, he pulled his steed to a halt. He pointed into the trees and glanced to be sure she was right behind him. She was. Venturing off track, he led Ramiel down an incline into a small gully, protected on both sides with dense brush, even in the dead of winter when leaves were scarce. He leapt from his mount and tethered Ramiel to the nearest elm.

  He pulled Sienna down and set her roughly on her feet. “I need you to stay here and stay quiet.”

  “What!” She grabbed hold of his forearms, his hands still gripping her waist. “You’re not leaving me here.”

  “Not for long. I need to go and see what this is.”

  “What what is? I don’t see or hear anything at all.”

  “It’s too far away for you to. I won’t be long.”

  “No.” She clung to his arms. “Please. Take me with you.”

  He gripped her by the upper arms, reading the fear and tension in the strained lines around her eyes and mouth. “It could be too dangerous.”

  “It could be too dangerous to leave me here alone. Let me go with you.”

  She had a point. He glanced around. Though he didn’t want her to see what he knew he would find, she would be safer by his side, not alone here in the woods.

  “All right. Hold on tight.” He lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Whatever you do and whatever we see, don’t make a sound. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, certainly closing her eyes as she hated to travel this way.

  “Here we go.”

  He stared ahead through the woods and sped away—climbing the hill on the other side of the gully, speeding in between and around trees at breakneck speed, leaping a chasm that opened up in the valley floor and coming out to a rocky outcropping where an icy gale whipped up the mountainside.

  He lowered her to the craggy ledge, and he too flattened himself onto his belly. “Slide up beside me,” he whispered.

  Bombarded now with the pungent smell that had caught him miles away, he cringed beneath the weight of so much blood. He pressed a finger to his lips to signal Sienna to stay quiet. She nodded, then he inched upward on his forearms, until he could look out and see the valley below. Sienna did the same, not making a sound as he’d warned her. Peeking just above the outcropping, his fears were realized. Sienna clamped her hand over her own mouth.

  The village of Kellswa
ter was under siege…by Royal Legionnaires. The distinct silver and blue uniforms of Glass Tower blurred this way and that as soldiers captured another human and dragged them to a line of waiting carts with bars—prison carts. One vampire had a small boy by the arm who kicked and flailed, his screams mixing with that of all the others as he was tossed into a caged cart with other cowering children. It took two vampires to drag a brute of a man toward another cart where human men stood inside, yelling to loved ones on the other side. One man outstretched his arm to the neighboring cart where a woman stretched out her own arm, their fingers just touching.

  A high-pitched squeal split the cacophony of savagery but did not stop the tumult from continuing. A young girl, certainly not more than sixteen years, bolted from a small hut, her tunic torn from one shoulder, a trail of blood dripping down her neck. A brawny vampire who’d just caged another child flashed across the space and grabbed her around the waist with one arm. A second Legionnaire, tall and blond, sauntered out of the hut casually in his sleeveless undershirt, his soldier’s jacket removed. The two laughed as they met in front of the hut, the larger one still holding the girl who kicked and screamed, her dark hair wild and loose around her shoulders.

  A middle-aged man charged toward them with a harvesting scythe raised, screaming like a madman. The blond vampire sped forward and slashed the man’s throat as he tossed him to the ground. Picking up the scythe, he then sliced the man’s head off. The girl reached out and screamed, the word “Papa!” clear and sharp as it echoed up out of the valley.

  The blond vampire who had killed the man, now moving with purpose, took the girl from the other man’s arms, tossed her over his shoulder and returned to the hut, her screams reverberating up the canyon wall. The brawny vampire moved on to help another Legionnaire wrangle a feisty adolescent and shoved him in the cage with the men.

  Nikolai wrapped a protective arm around Sienna for he could feel the fear and anxiety radiating off of her ten-fold. A bright flash caught his attention to the left. He scanned up the small rise above the village, his heart pounding hard. There, atop a snow-white horse sat Queen Morgrid, donning a royal blue riding gown and silver armor, winking in the sunlight. And at her side was not the king but her son, King Dominik of Izeling. Even from here, Nikolai could see the arrogant tilt of his square jaw and a crooked smile on his face as he watched the scene below. If they should catch the two of them there, they’d—

  Dread sank like a stone in his chest, imagining what they would do. Specifically to Sienna. Without warning, he clamped his hand over Sienna’s mouth and flashed in vampire speed out of sight, pausing only for a moment at the bottom of the craggy mountainside to shift her into his arms carefully. She wept and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. He pressed her head to his chest.

  “Shhh.”

  Then he sped lightning-fast back through the woods, not pausing for a second. The sounds and smells of the horror in Kellswater would drown out their scent even if someone should catch it for a second on the wind, but he would take no chances. Not with her. They’d take the open path across the plains and get to Dale’s Peak as swiftly as possible. For there was no doubt now the Black Lily would need the recruits.

  Queen Morgrid was building her army, one village at a time. Nikolai needn’t wonder about her purpose. She was turning the men into vampire warriors, using the women as bleeders and toys for her soldiers, and harvesting the children for when they were old enough to join the ranks.

  The war had just taken a very sinister turn. He had been taught to fight with honor and to respect his opponent. It was the way of the Legionnaire. But the queen was making a mockery of them all, spiraling out of control to win back her power with might and cruelty and bloody vengeance against the people she claimed to protect. No more pretending she longed for a strong monarchy. She sought tyrannical rule with an iron fist and rivers of blood.

  The only ones capable of defeating her now was the Black Lily.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sienna hadn’t spoken at all since they’d mounted their horses and bolted across the plains toward Dale’s Peak. Though traveling in the open, it was the wiser call. They’d made good time, stopping only long enough for the horses to rest and feed. He’d tried to offer her the leftover rabbit or a crust of bread, but she’d refused anything to eat.

  Her eyes had taken on that forlorn look of one who’d seen the true darkness of the world—man’s cruelty toward his fellow man. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d seen this kind of bloody horror himself in decades past. Not on the scale of Kellswater, but never had it been perpetrated by the very ones who were supposed to be protecting the people. The betrayal of his own kind against humanity twisted his gut and was also responsible for the look of hopelessness in Sienna’s eyes.

  The church tower of Dale’s Peak came into view as they wound higher into the foothills of the Bluestone Mountains. They slowed their horses to a trot.

  “Who’s our contact?” asked Sienna, her voice rusty from lack of use and most certainly from the tears she’d shed throughout the day.

  He’d wanted to console her, but there was no time and little he could say. She needed to release her emotions and come to terms with what they’d seen on her own. At least until he could find a private moment alone with her.

  “Her name is Sarah Winchester,” he answered as they leveled out on the even slope where Dale’s Peak sat. “A widow who runs a boarding house on the south side. We should be able to find it easily from this direction, once we board the horses.”

  Sienna gave a stiff nod. The energy of a busy, populated town filled the air as they drew closer, and the pointed rooftops of well-crafted buildings came into view. The sun had already slipped beyond the horizon, coloring the sky lavender and the landscape in dusty pink. It would have been a beautiful sight on any other day. But not with the stink of death and the screams of innocents echoing in one’s mind.

  A farmer hauling his empty cart back out of the town tipped his hat to them as they passed. Nikolai motioned for Sienna to stay close. They’d put many miles between them and Kellswater, but he was still on high alert. Now that he understood the queen’s game and the reason for the vanishing villages on Friedrich’s map, he knew they were safe enough for the time being. Her Legionnaires would be busy carting those poor people wherever she was holding them prisoner and making the men into vampires. She’d apparently enlisted her son Dominik to assist in the dirty job.

  Nikolai couldn’t imagine that the prison where they were building this army was at the Glass Tower, for Riker would’ve seen them. He must get this information to Arabelle and Marius as soon as possible. And to Friedrich.

  They wound into town, clip-clopping over cobblestone as a few people bustled here and there, paying no heed to the two new strangers. The advantage of visiting a larger town was that there were always strangers. And few people took notice of them. A sturdy painted sign read Hanover Stables to the right. He pointed for Sienna. “There.”

  She nodded and took the lead, turning Astrophel into the stable yard off the cobblestone street and onto the hay-strewn dirt. Sienna stopped at the mouth of the stables and hopped down, petting Astrophel along her muzzle and crooning soft words to her. Nikolai dismounted and wound the reins over a hitching post outside the stables. He was about to call out when a short, stout man with dirt smudged on his pants and shirt who had a clean, kind face stepped out of the entrance of the stables.

  “Mornin’,” he said with a nod, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Good morning,” said Nikolai. “We were hoping you might have room to board our horses for the night.”

  The man whistled, eyeing Ramiel and Astrophel and taking a step closer. “Now these two are beauties. I haven’t seen Arkadians in a few years.” He stepped forward and ran a hand along Ramiel’s neck with a rough pat. He whickered and tossed his head, but then seemed to accept the man’s affection as quickly as he’d rejected his presence. “Rarely do see them this far north.” />
  “Aye. We’re on our way to visit friends, but won’t be long.”

  The sharp-eyed man raised his brow. “Not much to go on to if you’re passing through Dale’s Peak.”

  Nikolai didn’t reply. When the stableman realized he wasn’t going to get any further explanation, he stepped up to Nikolai, who was a full foot taller than him, and offered his hand. “Don’t mind me. The name’s Bart Hanover. I don’t need to know where you’re going or where you’ve been. I can tell by the looks of these animals that you’re good people.”

  “Oh really?” He shook his hand. “And how is that?”

  “Fine clean coats from regular grooming, well muscled from being well fed, horseshoes well shod.”

  Nikolai arched a brow. “I’ve seen many a cruel man treat his horses with the utmost care.”

  “Aye. ’Tis true. But then the animals are skittish and distrusting.” He stepped toward the head of Astrophel, finally drawing Sienna’s attention. She’d been wrapped in her own world until the stableman stepped forward. “Oh, now isn’t she a pretty girl?” he said, patting Astrophel on her crown above her eyes.

  Sienna smiled for the first time since the incident this morning. “She is, isn’t she?”

  “Aye. She seems to love her owner, too.”

  Sienna didn’t correct him, but simply stroked Astrophel’s muzzle. Astrophel’s eyes drooped and blinked heavily at their attention.

  “All right then,” said Bart, turning to Nikolai. “The cost is three sovereigns per horse per night. That includes a warm paddock, fresh hay and water, and one bucket of oats. Now if they stay past noon tomorrow, that’ll be another sovereign a piece for the use of the paddock through the day. And another six for both of them for lodging by nightfall.” He unwound Ramiel’s reins. “And whose name should I put these under in the register?”

  Nikolai pulled his bag of coin from the saddlebag. Rather than handing over six sovereigns, he withdrew a few for himself and tucked them in his pocket, then handed over the rest in the pouch, knowing good and well such an amount was more than extravagant. The stableman peered inside and stared.

 

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