Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals)

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Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals) Page 12

by Tricia Copeland


  I pound on Will’s back with all my might, but he doesn’t budge. I yell at him, desperate to protect myself and my companions. “Let me go!”

  “Your wish is my command.” The woman raises a finger, and Will goes flying across the room, hits the far wall, and falls to the floor.

  A scream rises from my chest. “No!”

  “He’s alive, for now,” the woman coos as the two witches reach the table. “Come, sit, we wish to speak with you.”

  My brain ponders the options: run and save myself or stay and protect Will and Jacob. In one quick move, I pull my dagger from my boot, launch myself towards my spear, and land, weapons ready between the witches and my exit.

  “Nice parlor trick. Appropriate since we’re in your parlor, of sorts.” She cuts her eyes to the bed and back to me. A chair jerks back. “Please sit.”

  I tense my muscles, ready to throw my dagger at the male’s face and jab the spear into the woman’s neck. When I go to make my move, I find my arms frozen.

  “I asked you to sit, but really it was more of an order.” She flicks a finger, and my hands jerk back, breaking my wrist bones.

  My weapons fall to the floor, and reverberating pains, as if my nerves are being poked with a thousand tiny needles, shoot up through my arms. Fissures form on my skin, exposing vessels and muscles below. Knowing my body will heal, I steel my countenance. Eyes locked on hers, I stride to the chair, chin up and shoulders back. If she means to kill me, I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I realize in a split second that it’s not concern for my own life that causes me panic but the possible loss of Will’s, Jacob’s, the edict. With my elbow, I roll the parchment off the table into my lap.

  “Yes, your precious edict.” The woman holds out her hand, and the man dips, picks up my dagger, and hands it to her. She slams the blade into the tabletop, causing the cups to rattle on the saucers. Her gaze lands on me. “Do you know who I am?”

  “A witch.”

  “Of course, but we’re not all alike. I’m quite important.” She circles behind me, running a finger across my shoulders.

  My nose itches at the intensity of the floral scent emanating from her body. I yearn to drain every drop of blood from her veins.

  “What is the phrase? Know thy enemies?” She stops and looks down her nose at me. “I know all about you, young vampire queen, herald of peace and unity. Well, I am a real queen, with real power. My name is Osannea Luctisonus Insontis Michaels of the Line of the Arch Angel Michael. As leader of Michael’s coven, I am the High Priestess, the most powerful witch alive.” She looks down her nose and extends her hand to me. “I am called Sonia.”

  Lifting my hand, I realize the wrist is healed. I slide my fingers in her palm, finding the skin to be ice cold. My eyes shoot to her face. A smile spreads across her cheeks. “Do you know why your family was burned alive? What prompted us to target those homes?”

  The image of the burning structures darts through my mind. The male witch takes a seat across from me, and I refocus on the present.

  “This is my son, Thanatos.” Sonia moves behind him and places her hands on his shoulders. “I believe you were there that night, correct?”

  “That is true.” Thanatos locks eyes with me.

  “What do you want?” I demand.

  Sonia tilts her head back and laughs. “How quaint. Straight to the point. But, I believe a little history lesson is warranted.” She circles the table towards me. Placing both her palms on the surface, she leans towards me, hot sugar-laced breath oozing from her mouth. “You see, your families were targeted because of their blatant attempt to live as normal people. Witches are charged with protecting the human race from damned savages like you.”

  I push my feet to the floor, meaning to stand, but realize I’m stuck in the chair. “Using parlor tricks to keep me down? I thought I didn’t scare you?”

  “Fine.”

  A weight lifts off my shoulders, and I rise. In my boots, I reach five-feet-eight inches, but she still towers over me. “One hundred seventy-eight tribes have agreed to leave humans and witches alike alone.” I set the scroll on the table. “This seems like something you would want.”

  Sonia’s hand lands on the tabletop, and the stone under us shakes. “I want you creatures to retreat to your caves, to the ends of the earth from where you have come and stay in your places. You are nothing, dust to dust and ashes to ashes. You soulless creatures do not belong in this realm. Crawl back to the hell from which you were formed.”

  My skin tingles with the thought of slitting her throat and licking the blood from her neck. I cut my eyes to Thanatos, whose lips form a smile, and then to Sonia. “I don’t care about your Heaven and Hell. We hail from Mother Earth. She created us. I will be a steward of this realm until returning to her.”

  Sonia laughs and brings a hand to her mouth, faking covering her amusement, I’m sure. “You don’t know of the prophecy? What this year sets in motion? The potential for your beings to gain souls?”

  I’m frustrated with her talk of souls and Hell. They mean nothing to me. My senses dart to Will, then Jacob, hearing their faint beating hearts and slow even breaths, as if in a deep sleep.

  Cold fingers wrap around my arm. “It will never happen. And your edict?” The roll of parchment slides across the table and into her other palm. “It’s worthless. These signatures mean nothing now. You will find the bodies of your precious ambassadors, stupid enough to believe their people can live like civilized beings, littered throughout this castle, dead as dead can be, all of them.”

  Bile rises in my throat. I snatch my hand from her grip and cover my mouth. Before I can stop them, bloody tears spill over my eyelids.

  “See,” her frigid thumb rubs across my cheek, “soulless and damned to spend eternity in Hell.” She takes a step back. “You don’t look well, perhaps you should have some tea.”

  Lifting the saucer, cackling laughter emits from her throat. My eyes cut to the vessel, now filled and overflowing with a thick dark-red liquid.

  “The blood of Sambia.” She sets the cup in front of me as I slump into the chair.

  Thanatos rises from his seat and joins Sonia. They start towards the opening in the wall. Sonia turns her head back to me. “Oh, you might want to plan a visit to London. I’m afraid Henry has fallen ill. I don’t believe he will make it through the night.”

  Rage grows in my chest and shoots through my veins. I swipe the blood from my face and push to a stand. “The witnesses have already been sent out. The edict is not dead.”

  Sonia spins around. “We have no problem killing vampires, as you can see. What vampire will side with you in favor of peace now? Perhaps you haven’t lost enough. Should I make it more clear?”

  She points at the door pinned on top of Jacob. It starts to rise and tilts upright, hovering above his neck.

  “Jacob,” I yell. Still, he lies motionless.

  Thanatos strides to the table. He flips his hand over and a chair shatters. One of the legs rises and is aimed at Will’s chest.

  “Are you ready to give up your silly quest or should these friends die too?”

  Beams of light cascade in through the windows and doorway. A swirl of warm air permeates the room. The spear before Will drops to the ground. He jumps to his feet and darts to my side, dagger held ready. The door panel above Jacob flies across the room and crashes into the wall, splintering into a thousand pieces. Jacob explodes from the stone floor. With a quick survey of the room, he positions himself between me and Sonia.

  A flash of light blinds me, and I raise my arms to shield my eyes.

  “What brings you here seraph? This is not your realm. Our business with Miss Scott is of no concern to you.” Sonia’s voice echoes through the room.

  “Sonia, you haven’t changed a bit.” A male voice, like a perfectly tuned cello, glides around the room, landing on my ears. The thick pungent smell of fermenting grapes is replaced with the scents of roses, a freshly cut field, of crea
m and berries.

  Lowering my arms, I open my eyes to see a tall male being entering through the hole in the wall. Hair of gold, and eyes of blue, he wears a white linen shirt, brown suede pants, and leather boots.

  “I would say I’ve missed you, one of my most powerful nieces, but then I’d be lying.” He strides past Sonia and Thanatos. With his hand over his heart, he bows before Jacob. “Please, may I approach your queen? I mean her no harm.”

  Whatever this being is, Sonia called him a seraph, he’s broken her spell. Trembling, I step forward. Jacob and Will flank me. The man, I dare call him a man, lowers himself to the floor, one knee on the stone, and bows his head. “Miss Scott.”

  “Yes.” Arms folded over my middle for fear I’ll fall apart at any second, I nod.

  “Please.” He extends his hand to me.

  My shaking fingers relax with the warmth of his touch, and an energy flows from his hand into mine, radiating throughout my body. “Who are you?”

  “Not to be rude, but for purposes of ending your present torture, I will jump ahead to the point of my visit.” Letting my fingers trickle from his grip, he turns to Sonia and Thanatos. He circles the witches. “I dare say you have things quite backwards, don’t you? Isn’t it your race who are damned? Your souls cursed to purgatory for eternity?”

  “And whose fault is that? Even so, it will not be that way forever,” Sonia growls at him and points a crooked finger in my direction. “Those creatures will never know redemption.”

  “I don’t think Miss Scott cares about souls. I just pointed it out to make her fully aware of your situation.” He approaches me. “Miss Scott, your ambassadors are dead. Henry, also, I was not able to save. Elizabeth may benefit from your comfort. I’m sorry for your loss, but your witnesses are quite safe on their journeys.”

  He raises his leg, and his foot descends on the floor, rocking the entire structure. “Sonia and Thanatos, you have no more power here, go.”

  A cold blast pours over my head. For a second, I register their honey-sweet odor, and then it’s gone. I check for Will and Jacob and find them beside me.

  “Until we meet again.” The stranger drops to one knee before me.

  I open my mouth to speak, but with a blinding burst, he disappears. My eyes scan the room, the splintered door, shattered windows, and land on the hearth. The air leaves my lungs as I process that all the edict signers are dead. I bury my face in Will’s chest. Wrapping his arms around my back, he squeezes me tight.

  In the next thought, I realize there’s no time for breaking down. I squirm from his grip. Jacob stands as if frozen in front of me. I study him, unable to read his emotion. I blink and he’s gone. I bolt after him, Will on my heels. We follow Jacob to the top of the tower, where he jumps to the alarm.

  “Stop!” I yell at him.

  “Every queen needs an army,” Jacob says as I reach him.

  “What do you mean to do?”

  “Bring the messengers back. They’re the only ones we can trust to stand with you.”

  “You can’t do that. We need them to get the news of the edict to the tribes. Tell him.” I turn to Will.

  He shakes his head. “I’m with Jacob on this.”

  I grab Jacob’s arm. “Call one of each team to return. That way both goals can be met. One hundred seventy-eight should be enough for an army.”

  “If all of them agree to join us,” Will mutters.

  A shrill high sound pierces the air, and I cover my ears. The long tone is followed by a sequence of short and longer ones, as Jacob translates the message in our ancient language.

  Yelps, howls, and growls from the forest animals break out around the fortress. I walk to the edge and look out over the mountains, covered with the early snows.

  “My lady.” Will wraps his coat around my shoulders.

  Shrugging it off, I gather my skirt in my hands. “We should attend to the fallen.”

  We wait as Jacob repeats the alarm and communication to the messengers. Too many thoughts, ideas, and strategies assault my mind, and I shake each off as they form. The sun has finally crested the horizon as Jacob joins us, and we make our way down the spiral staircase.

  Starting with the top level, we go room by room, moving each body to the great hall. I divorce myself from the horror of their deaths. A queen, if that’s what I’m supposed to be, can’t be seen as weak. By the time the messengers start to trickle in, all our friends line the stone floor.

  Mambi of Sambia’s tribe approaches me. “What has happened here?” Her eyes follow the line of vampires laid out on the rock.

  “Witches, two powerful witches, took the castle. We didn’t know they were here until it was too late.”

  “But they spared you.”

  I ball my fingers into fists, cutting my palms with my nails. “Will and Jacob were saved by a seraph. If it weren’t for this mysterious being, I may have been the only one left to serve as witness to their power and to deliver a message.”

  “What is their message?”

  “That we are not to unite.”

  “Will you heed their warning?”

  “No.” I stride to the table and jump to the top. “Please gather.” I project my voice through the room and wait for all to come close. “We suffered a great loss today. But the death of these ambassadors will not be for naught. Your counterparts already make their way back to the tribes to tell the story of the edict and the horrible slaughter of this day. We learned our lesson and will not be caught off guard again. Vampires of these continents are united. I wish to spread our message across the ocean. But, we need an army, an army of believers, ready to fight for our freedom. We march west tonight to the coast for passage to the New World. I hope you will stand with me. These lives cannot be forgotten.”

  “I say we find out who the witches are and slaughter their covens while they sleep.” A male vampire from Romania lands beside me.

  A chant starts low and grows through the crowd. “Blood for blood.”

  Still, some stay silent.

  Fitting my fingers between my lips, I release a high-pitched whistle. “Isn’t that what they want? To draw us out and start a war we will surely lose? We must be strategic in protecting the lives of our people. Uniting the tribes and then bringing the witches to the table to negotiate peace is the smart way.”

  Mambi joins me on the tabletop. “I’m with Anne.”

  Others gather round, but a big faction backs to the exit. “We will take our leave.” The vampire from Romania strides to the body of his ambassador, heaves him onto one shoulder, and walks out the door. Those with him do the same.

  My eyes flit over those that stand with me. I count to eighty-seven. It’s less than half the one hundred seventy-eight, but I figure it to be a good number. I’m not sure how I would have gotten over a hundred vampires across Europe and on a ship to the New World anyway. I have no idea what strategy to take with the present makeshift army before me as it is.

  “We should honor the dead.” I lift a torch from its stand on the wall.

  Gregor takes the torch and, mouthing a silent prayer, alights the body of his tribesman. One by one, we pay tribute to our fallen comrades. My heart aches with the loss, and pressure grows in my chest with the burden of my part in their deaths.

  Heat from the flames and the burning smell of flesh mix, causing my stomach to turn. Sweat pours down my brow, but I hold my tears.

  “Queen, we should rest for the journey.” Will tugs at my arm as I watch the last embers.

  Looking up, I realize the others’ eyes fix on me. “No, we leave now.” I project my voice. “Everyone meet on the ground level, ready for travel.”

  I whisk out the door before my emotions overtake me. Tears must wait. Jumping over the splintered doors in my room, I find my traveling clothes. Seeing the tea cup filled with blood, my stomach turns. The image of the fair-headed, blue-eyed mysterious seraph dances in my head. But, there isn’t time to ponder him.

  Ripping off my black s
ilk gown, I throw it into the fire. I dress in traveling pants, tunic, and boots, and tuck another outfit in a satchel. This routine I know well, and the act gives me comfort. I fit the bag on my back and coat over my head. Finding my spear and dagger, I zip out the door, through the hall, and down the spiraling staircase. Will and Jacob stand ready with their gear at the front of the group.

  I raise my chin to address my army. “We need to get distance between us and this castle. We run till sunup. Hunt as you can. We will rest at daylight.”

  Heading northwest, our army skirts human civilizations. Our quick pace calms me. Every time thoughts of Sonia, Thanatos, Henry, Sambia, the bloody team cup, and the hundred other fallen comrades enter my consciousness, I focus on my muscles, strong legs propelling me over the countryside, arms pumping with the rhythm of my gait. I plan for the next day, week, year, to keep the heartache over our loss at bay.

  Once we reach Germany, I send most of the group with Jacob south to Spain to procure passage to the New World. Eight—including Mambi, Gregor, and Will—travel with me to England. Four days pass by the time we reach London. The horses in the barn whinny as we approach the property.

  Worrying that the witches are watching, I call out like the coo of a dove to Elizabeth. Seeing her run across the lawn to the barn, it’s all I can do to keep to my hiding place.

  “Anne,” Elizabeth whispers once inside the stable.

  I dart from the stall and wrap my arms around her, swinging her up in the air, like a child. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “And you too, Anne.” She squeezes me tight. “You’ve come home?”

  “Only for a night. I heard about Henry. I’m so sorry.”

  “How did you know about him?”

  My friends emerge from their hiding places. “We were attacked by the witches that killed Henry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers in my ear. “I’ll miss him, but Finn was my anam cara. That was a long time ago. What of you, child? Come inside, Faye will want to see you. Your friends too.” Elizabeth motions to those hovering in a ring around us. “We have plenty of room.”

 

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