Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals)

by Tricia Copeland

  Orm spreads his shoulders and raises his chin. “I was not and am not a hostage. I stayed because I believe in the cause. If our people are to flourish, we must make peace.”

  “Here, here,” the witch ambassadors second.

  “See, they want peace as much as we do. None of us want to see our loved ones, our children, persecuted or perish.” I say the words, thinking I’ll never have a child of my own lineage.

  Even with the skepticism, two-thirds of the tribunal representatives are willing to stay and talk with the coven ambassadors. Both sides propose ideas and strategies for growing the movement.

  “What of Michael’s coven?” Gregor asks. “We’ve witnessed their leader’s power. Surely Sonia will strike at anyone, vampire or witch, that opposes her wishes.”

  A hooded witch rises. I’d noted him earlier as he sat head bent of his chest for the entirety of the meetings. “I’m of Michael’s line. If enough witches stand against them, they’ll have to relent.”

  “Who are you? Show yourself.” One next to him stands.

  “I will use the name of Marcus.” He lifts his hood from around his face and the whispers growing throughout the room die. “I represent witches of Michael’s line who do not believe as the others do.”

  “What power do you have?”

  “I serve on the council.”

  “But you do not bear the mark. You are not of Michael’s coven. We are powerless against their edicts.”

  Marcus shakes his head. “If enough of us bind together, we can change the old structure of control.”

  “We won’t start a civil war over this,” another witch puts forth.

  “Let us hope it does not come to that,” Marcus agrees.

  Both groups leave the meeting with a charge of spreading the idea to those we believe are like minded. The sage is extinguished, and we prepare for the journey home.

  Will finds me as I finish stowing my blanket. “It went well. The one from Michael’s line will help our cause.”

  “Yes, we have many to thank.” I focus on my pack.

  “You’re still nervous about Sonia.”

  “I’ll be happy when we have rejoined the others at our new location in the west.”

  Heading south to the cape, we meander through the dark continent and north through Egypt, the Holy Land, Turkey, Italy, and finally to England. We reach London just before the winter solstice and procure a house for the Yule holiday.

  As our small troop takes to the forests to hunt, Elizabeth and I light candles in each room.

  “You should be proud. You’ve achieved much in the past year.”

  I suck in a breath. “I am.”

  “But it doesn’t make you happy.”

  “I don’t rest well, knowing a great evil lurks. I worry for my people and the witches who have taken up this quest. What do you think of Marcus? Does he seem over bold?”

  “He seems quite handsome to me, if that’s what you were thinking.”

  My nose twitches and shoulders shudder, thinking of the sweet smell emanating from his skin. “He’s a strong witch and seems to know much. We’ll see if he can be an ally. Have you grown immune to their scent? Does it not try your nerves?”

  Elizabeth shrugs. “I hold my breath and use my eyes.”

  “You speak as a school girl with a crush.”

  “I’m not that old. What am I supposed to do with over four hundred years left on this earth?”

  “Enjoy yourself, obviously.” I smile at her.

  The doors and shudders slam open, and candles and sage extinguish with a large gust of wind. The air fills with a smell I can never forget. I shove Elizabeth behind me and back to the wall.

  I hear boot falls on the porch, and Sonia’s figure appears in the doorway. She steps across the threshold towards me. “You must have found yourself a witch.”

  “And you’re down a son. Off doing his duty, siring a new breed of Children of Light, I presume?”

  “You speak boldly. So different from the last time we met. Perhaps you believe your guardian angel will always protect you. But let’s not pretend you haven’t been searching for a perfect sire to breed such children, scouring the globe, visiting every tribe possible. Although I did lose track of you the past several years. That’s how I knew you had a witch.” She runs a cold finger across my cheek and smiles.

  My stomach turns as a chill shoots through my skull and down my skeleton. Straightening my spine, I raise my chin. “I’d never heard of the prophecy before six years ago. You’ve kept your secret well. But you’ve wasted lots of energy worrying about us vampires breaking some alleged curse. We have no need for souls.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her putrid breath pours out of her mouth, and spittle lands on my face. “Have you not noticed? The church is quite strong. There are many believers. Your pagan ways will soon be rejected and lost forever. Your people will be coerced into believing they’re damned. With an uncontrollable race bent on destruction, the witches will have no choice but to step in and do our duty for the good of the human race.”

  “You don’t care about the humans.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But this is the legend of our beginning, angels so desperate to win favor from their God sired us to keep you from killing the Creator’s beloved humans.”

  Determined to show strength, I take a step towards her. “And you think you show the angels, God you want peace by escalating tensions between our peoples?”

  She shrugs and walks towards the fireplace at the far wall. “Really, I don’t care. Michael’s coven are leaders by birthright. I’ll always protect my own.” When she spins to face us, her skirt swirls in the air, and the logs in the hearth alight.

  My eyes cut to the fire, realizing she could burn us alive with the snap of her fingers. Still, I won’t be bullied. “What do you want, Sonia? Say it and be gone. Obviously, you aren’t going to kill us.”

  “No, not you.” Her eyes cut to the door. A breeze rushes in, carrying the metallic smell of vampire blood laced in its grip.

  My heart pounds in my chest. How could I be so foolish as to put my people at risk again? How did Sonia find us? Did she kill Orm? Bursts of light outside catch my eye, and I run towards the door. My chin hits a surface, hard as a wall, and I bounce off the invisible barrier.

  “How rude, abandoning a guest before offering tea. Perhaps your mother, oh wait, no, your mother is dead, perhaps—” Sonia whips around to face Elizabeth.

  Outside the light grows brighter, and I lift my gaze to see a glowing being descending from the air. His wings emit shards of light with each beat. As he nears, I recognize the blond hair and brilliant blue eyes and know we will be safe.

  The house shakes as he lands in front of me, kneeling and lowering a body to the ground. When he rises, I realize the body is John’s. Using all my strength, I brace myself for impact as I hurl my body at the seal blocking my exit. Pushing with all my might, I find the barrier lifted and careen full speed towards the blond-headed savior, slamming into him. He places a hand on each of my shoulders. At his touch, a warmth radiates through my body. The unexpected sensation throws me off, and I stare into his face.

  “John.” Elizabeth huddles over our fallen friend, breaking my trance.

  The being releases me, and I drop to my knees beside Elizabeth.

  “I was too late to save your comrade. I’m sorry for your loss.” The being’s words sound like the low sweet chords of a dove’s coo.

  I raise my eyes to meet his. “Thank you for your help—again.”

  His lips form a smile, and my heart flutters in my chest. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I realize my automatic reaction. Still, I can’t pull my eyes from his face.

  Boot heels clunk on the wood behind me, and Sonia’s thick stench surrounds me. “Aren’t you cutting things a little close, again?”

  I note Sonia’s eyes fixed on the being in front of me. “It really is quite sad. Don’t you have better things to do? We know you have no r
eal power. You can’t kill me.”

  The blond being steps around me to stand before Sonia. “No, but I can incapacitate you so that one of these vampires can finish you. I doubt—”

  With a blast of wind, Sonia vanishes.

  “That’s what I thought.” The being lowers himself to the wood slats beside me. “How can I help? Should I prepare a burial pyre?”

  Looking to John’s face, tears swell in my eyes. I swipe them away, rubbing my bloody palms on the skirt of my dress. Hearing rustling branches, I focus on the trees beyond the yard. Within seconds, I see the others emerge from the forest.

  I rush to Will. “Is everyone else okay?” My eyes cut to each in our group, landing on Orm clutching Jacob’s back.

  “Yes.” Will strides past me. “We lost the witch though. Blasted.” He stomps towards the house and falls to his knees in front of John. “Sonia and the other witch came out of nowhere, took John before we could even blink.” He looks up to the blond being. “Thank you. We’re forever in your debt.”

  The being shakes his head. “No thanks are necessary.” His eyes cut to me and then around the rest of the group. “Let me help you prepare the pyre.”

  There’s no moving fast for this job. The point is to raise the stand, log by log, to mourn. Even when it’s finished an hour later, we’re not ready to say goodbye.

  “Let’s leave him until the morn. Come inside and have some drink.” I hook my arm through Gregor’s, knowing he was closest to John.

  Inside, I line up glasses, and pour strong spirits into each of them. Each person takes one, and I offer one to our guest.

  “Thank you.” He takes a sip and closes his eyes as if relishing each drop of the liquid. “Might I have a moment of your time, Miss Scott?” He holds his glass up, motioning to the stairs.

  My mind spins, wondering what this odd stranger has to tell me, why he would need to say it in private, and wishing I didn’t feel drawn to him. Will he be able to sense my attraction? It feels rude, even greedy, to want answers to all the questions that occupy my brain. I grasp my glass with both palms and look to Will. “I’m not sure.”

  Will’s gaze cuts to Orm. Orm straightens his back and approaches the being. At a head taller, the being seems a giant compared to Orm. Yet, Orm extends his arm. “May I?”

  A smile spreads across the being’s face. “You may.”

  They lock arms, and Orm closes his eyes. Mine dart around, taking in the stranger’s sea-blue irises, golden eyelashes, high cheeks, rose-pink lips, square chin, broad shoulders, and finally the white wings folded against his back.

  Orm sucks in a breath, and his eyes pop open. As he stumbles back, the being catches Orm’s elbows and holds his gaze. “And now you know.”

  “So be it.” Orm looks to me and then the rest of the group. “He’s not a threat to anyone here.”

  “My lady.” The being lifts his arm, motioning for me to proceed ahead of him.

  As I ascend the stairs, a flapping noise catches my attention, and I look behind me to see his wings disappear into his back. I lead him to a room we’ve used for a parlor. Lighting a candle, I wait for him to enter.

  “Would you like a shirt? I could get one of Will’s.”

  His eyes narrow as if he’s deciding. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  In the next room, I pull a shirt from Will’s bag, glad we washed the prior day. I return to the sitting room and offer the being the garment. As he slides it over his head, I divert my eyes, stoking the logs to heat water in the iron pot above.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  A smile forms on his face.

  I place my hands on my hips. “You’re amused with me?”

  “You’re so proper.” He slides the chair from under the table. “Will you sit and talk with me?”

  I take the seat he offers, fold my hands in my lap, and look to him as he sits across from me. Picking up the plate of sage herbs in the center of the table, he stares at them a second and they ignite.

  “Is there a need for privacy?”

  His lips rise on one side, forming a half smile. “You don’t favor secrets?”

  “No, not with my people.”

  “Forgive me.” He stretches his hand across the table, turning his palm up. “But a being like myself has need of such things.”

  Even though I know better than to let a witch touch me, I can’t resist the opportunity for even a second of connection to him. I lay my fingers atop his, and a warming sensation spreads through my hand, up my arm, and to my chest. My eyes meet his. “What’s that? Who are you?”

  He smiles as his fingers wrap around mine. “I have many names, but I would prefer you call me Lucas.”

  Praying to Mother Earth that one of his names is not Lucifer, I dare another question. “Sonia called you a seraph. What is that exactly? You change forms. Are you a shape-shifter or a witch?”

  His lips form a smile. “Of sorts.” My hand grows hot, and I wiggle my fingers in his. He releases them and reclines in his chair. “Please, ask whatever you like.”

  With my mind filled with hundreds of questions, I’m unsure which to start with. “You wanted to speak with me. What do you want to tell me?”

  “I’m glad you have Orm. He’ll protect you.”

  “You saw that he’s trustworthy?”

  “You already knew that. You read people well.”

  “And you offered me your hand, so I would believe I could trust you?”

  He chuckles, and his blue eyes dance in the firelight. “I have saved you from Sonia twice, and you’re still not sure you can trust me?”

  “I don’t know who or what you are. Why you would help us? You can’t kill, is that true?”

  “It is. But I may render anyone powerless.”

  “That’s a wonderful strength to have.”

  “He giveth, and He taketh away.”

  My eyebrows shoot up before I can check my reaction. “A quote from the human Bible.”

  “Yes, you’ve studied it.”

  “That was not a question.”

  He leans forward so our faces are barely a foot apart. My heart skips and races in my chest. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my reaction, but his scent further intoxicates me. He lays his palms atop the wood. “I don’t mean to mince words. All cannot be revealed. I would think that you have some guesses as to my nature.”

  “What did you want to discuss?” I slide back in my chair and straighten my back, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  Opening his mouth slightly, he closes it again. “I wish to offer my condolences for your loss tonight. I know John was important to you.”

  As he speaks, I listen for his heart rate, time his breathing, and gauge his body temperature. All appear human-like. If I hadn’t seen him descend from the sky and wings retract into his spine, I would’ve guessed he was a witch. My eyes meet his.

  “You have gained much since I last saw you. Connections with the American tribes, strides in living among humans in the modern age, agreements to make peace with the witches, support among the covens for a treaty . . . you should be heralded.”

  “Thank you. But we have also lost much.”

  “There’s always sacrifice in a revolution.”

  “You see me as a revolutionary?”

  “You don’t? The mission is to replace the old ways with the new. Is there any other definition of revolution?” He smiles, and his eyes seem to brighten.

  My lips turn up despite my somber mood. It’s as if his emotions infect the room. “I guess not.” I look to my shoes to avoid his penetrating stare. "What of you? Where have you been? What have you done?”

  “I counsel.” He shrugs his shoulders.

  “Counsel? Counsel who?”

  “Those that ask.” He straightens up in his chair.

  “Who asks?”

  “Humans mostly.”

  “But you would counsel any being who asked?”

  “I suppose.”

 
“So, what counsel would I need?”

  A thin smile forms on his lips. “None, of course.”

  “You flatter me.”

  “That which is truth is not flattery. I would expect you’ll achieve all you desire.”

  “Can you see that?’

  His eyes focus beyond my face for a second. “No, no being can know what lies ahead. There are a million different options for the course of fate at any given second.”

  The room grows humid, and I realize I’ve forgotten the water for tea. I jump from my seat and grab the handle before thinking. The metal singes my hand, and I release the pot.

  Lucas dashes from his chair and dips a towel in the washing bowl. He crosses to me. “Here, let me.”

  I release my fist to him, and he takes my hand in one palm and dabs the cool cloth on my skin with the other. I study his perfect features wondering how a being could be so beautiful.

  My face warms, and I jerk my hand away. “It’s better. Thank you.”

  “Perhaps some aloe will help sooth it.”

  “No.” I laugh and open my palm to show him the new pink skin that has replaced the singed spot. “See, it’s fine.”

  “Oh.” He stands up straight. “I guess I’m not used to beings like you.”

  “Who do you spend your time with?”

  He paces away. “Perhaps some wine is more appropriate than the tea.”

  I cross to the buffet and pour two glasses. Placing them on the table, I take my seat.

  Lucas lowers himself into the chair beside me. “I have brothers and sisters.”

  “How is that? Do you like them?”

  He throws his head back and chuckles. “Sometimes. I guess we’re much like your friends.”

  “But, I’ve chosen my friends.”

  “Have you? Or have they chosen you?”

  “I wouldn’t accept someone I did not trust.”

  “What of Emmett?”

  I sip my wine to cover my surprise at his question. “So, you see all?” I place my glass on the table.

  He copies my action. “I see what I would like.”

  “And what do you know?”

  “I know what I see.”

  “Nothing more?” I hold his stare.

  “I’m not like Orm. I can’t see your thoughts unless you allow me to.”