02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn

by Lindsay J. Pryor

  ‘You flatter me again, Niras.’

  ‘No, but I hope you will flatter me by at least admitting Feinith was the source of this information.’

  ‘I have seen it but she has said nothing to me. Please, Niras. I have to know what I’ve got myself into.’

  Niras pressed her lips together, lowered her gaze as she seemed to be pondering. She looked back up at him. ‘I tell you only because I trust you, but this must not escape from your lips, do you understand me?’

  ‘I understand.’

  She wavered only a moment longer, her eyes burning into his. ‘It is reserved for the chosen one.’

  ‘The chosen one?’

  ‘The symbol is the Armun. It is a gift to the one who will lead our race to pre-eminence.’

  Discomfort stirred in his chest. ‘Over the humans?’

  ‘Over humans. Over other vampires.’

  ‘The prophecy. It’s true then?’

  ‘We may have come a long way in these past decades but there’s still so much further to go. Acceptance is blinkered. The very way they say we must live is indicative of that. We need to move beyond that.’

  ‘But is that not what the Higher Order are attempting? To converse with the human leaders to secure a place on the Global Council?’

  ‘We both know it will never happen. Vampires will never be allowed political control. It was the disclaimer the humans put in to retain the segregation. They’ve known our kind long enough to know we wouldn’t stay in the shadows forever. They knew what we would want, what any species wants: control. And they protected themselves against it.’

  ‘So what is the point of this leader?’

  ‘I’ve already said too much.’

  ‘Nothing I don’t already know.’

  Her eyes flared. ‘Tell me if you haven’t seen it on Feinith.’

  ‘Niras, tell me what the point of the leader is.’

  Niras held his gaze for a moment, then, with a sigh, leaned back. ‘What you cannot win by negotiation, you have to win by other means. All disclaimers have loopholes. And that symbol is our loophole. A symbol as archaic as our being.’

  ‘What kind of loophole?’

  ‘Those without a soul cannot serve on the Global Council. No shadows are permitted to make judgements on any decisions that will impact on humankind – that was the disclaimer. But a vampire with a soul, that’s a whole other matter. The vampire who wears that symbol can steal one. They can replace the shadow inside them, yet remain vampire. The Global Council cannot omit those with a soul, whatever form it takes. After proven by a shadow reader, there would be uproar if they refused to co-operate. It is our first step to freedom.’

  ‘How does the chosen one replace it?’

  ‘The soul can only be transferred through blood-drinking. The chosen one must drink the soul-giver to the point of death and remain there at the Brink long enough for the soul to transfer. Then the metamorphosis from vampire to the Tryan – our leader – will be complete.’

  Caleb frowned. ‘But a vampire can’t drink dying blood.’

  ‘The Armun protects them – but from only one type of blood. Very special blood. The same as the soul can’t be that of just any human. It needs to be a soul that is strong enough to survive long enough for the transference to complete.’

  ‘And such a human exists?’

  ‘Oh, indeed they do. In small numbers. Ever smaller numbers.’

  Caleb tensed. His heart that usually beat so slowly began to race.

  ‘Why do you think the Higher Order is so protective over them, Caleb? Why do you think they carry such a weighty price on their heads when slaughtering them is the obvious option?’

  ‘Serryns,’ he said, his heart splintering.

  ‘Yes, my sweet Caleb, serryns. More lethal to the vampire than sunlight or hemlock.’ She paused. ‘The Tryan, the chosen one, must take the life of a serryn, drink her, even her very last drop of dying blood, especially her last drop, abandoning her at the Brink for eternity as they return victorious. Then the prophecy will come into fruition.’

  ‘That’s why they changed the rules. That’s why they stopped me killing them.’

  ‘If there’s no serryn, there’s no Tryan. They couldn’t risk them becoming extinct.’

  ‘But surely the Higher Order would have known this all along. Why let us hunt them at all?’

  ‘We’ve always known what the symbol meant, but not how to bring the prophecy into fulfilment. The serryns saw to that. It was their most closely guarded secret – so integral to the very prophecy that they would relinquish their lives to ensure it isn’t fulfilled. But when the truth was finally uncovered by one of our own eighty years ago, the Higher Order had no choice but to change the law from hunting serryns to death to salvaging them. They’d been hunted into endangerment and into hiding. We’d put our own future under threat.’

  ‘More reason why we should have been told.’

  ‘And have every mercenary out there demand whatever they wanted for the capture of one? And as the symbol is destined to appear only on a member of the Higher Order, anyone outside had no need to know. Besides, we couldn’t let the serryns know we knew their secret. It was the one way we retained the upper hand. They still don’t know. The Higher Order make their demands and the ranks follow without question – that’s how it works. But there were always the few hunters that didn’t heed our advice.’ She held his gaze knowingly. ‘One in particular. Caleb: the bane of the Higher Order. What were we to do with you?’

  ‘When is this great rising expected?’

  ‘The prophecies give us no clue. Only that the symbol will appear when the time has come.’

  ‘Which is why the Higher Order needs a serryn on standby at all times.’

  ‘Unfortunately the last died twenty years ago. As yet no replacement has been found. But I’ve said enough. More than enough. And I urge you, Caleb, you must keep this secret. Our future depends on word not getting out.’

  ‘Is the serryn that is needed special in any way? Is there anything recognisable?’

  Niras smiled. ‘Are you missing the hunt, Caleb?’

  ‘I’d like to know what I was looking for. Is there anything to look for, like the symbol on the chosen one?’

  ‘No. There is nothing that we know of. But if the prophecy is right, the serryn will find the Tryan. It’s their fate.’

  ‘If the chosen one is immune to her blood, does she have the ability to kill them? Can she prevent the prophecy happening?’

  Niras nodded. ‘Yes. And believe me; she will try everything to do just that. It will be her main objective.’

  ‘Will she know of the chosen one? Will she be able to sense it?’

  ‘She will sense it. As they will her.’ Her eyes were unnervingly sullen. ‘Faced with the chosen one, the serryn is more powerful than even you can imagine, Caleb. And more dangerous. I can assure you, she will stop at nothing. She will do whatever is necessary to prevent the prophecy coming into being – in any way possible. Even forsaking herself, if that’s what it takes.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Feinith entered Caleb’s office alone.

  ‘Well,’ she said as she sauntered towards his desk. ‘I can’t say I appreciate being summoned, let alone during daylight hours.’ She leaned back against the sofa to face him and folded her arms. ‘But as long as this is a sign you’ve seen sense, I’ll let you off.’

  ‘I want Seth’s name taken off the dishonoured list.’

  She stared at him as if he had slapped her across the face. ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Caleb, we have discussed this before—’

  ‘And this time you’re not going to turn it down.’ He pushed back his chair and moved around to the far side of the desk. He leaned back, folded his arms, mirroring her. ‘You want the serryn, I want Seth’s name off the list. In fact, I want him redeemed. I want that sniffling excuse for a betrothed of yours to admit that he put Seth’s name on there falsely.’
<
br />   Feinith glared at him. ‘That won’t happen.’

  ‘We all know Seth was doing his job that night. It was Jarin who sneaked into that house unprotected without him – him and his taste for innocent blood. Jarin lied. Seth would not have run and he would not have hid no matter how many of them were in waiting. It was Jarin who went against the rules of the Higher Order, not my brother. And if he hadn’t been dismissed for failure to protect, he would never have been where he was that night the serryn killed him. I want my brother’s name cleared.’

  ‘He will never agree.’

  ‘You’ll make him agree.’

  ‘And what reasons am I to give him? How will I explain my request?’

  ‘That’s your problem. But no pardon, no serryn.’

  ‘You ask the impossible.’

  ‘Do I? I know how much you want her. Or should I say need her.’ He stepped over to stop squarely in front of her. ‘I know about the prophecy.’

  She twitched anxiously. ‘You’ll have to enlighten me,’ she said, despite her eyes telling him she knew exactly what he meant. ‘There are so many prophecies.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure this one is at the forefront of your mind. Or at least it would have rebounded back to the forefront when you suspected there was a much-needed serryn on the loose.’

  Her eyes narrowed slightly as she held her gaze warily on his. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Don’t play games with me. You know exactly what I mean. The whole Higher Order knows. Not that you want us runts to know what a little pot of gold that serryn is. Or her blood is, at least. Alive, of course. She’s no use to the Tryan dead.’

  Her eyes flared. ‘Where did you get this information?’

  He smiled, albeit briefly.

  She’d never looked so uneasy, so unsure. ‘Never. She would never have told you.’

  ‘You made me curious, Feinith – all that compromise and wanting her alive. And I can be very persuasive. Particularly with serryns, remember? Particularly when a Higher Order vampire strolls into her presence and threatens to take her. But that’s not what’s important now, whereas keeping her alive clearly is.’

  ‘Caleb, if you’ve spilled a drop of her blood—’

  ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘I haven’t and I won’t. If you do what I ask.’

  ‘And if Jarin doesn’t budge?’

  Caleb shrugged.

  ‘Caleb, you slay that serryn and you kiss goodbye to our future. I will have no option but to report you. You will be sentenced to The Pit or even to death, Jake with you. You cannot wish that on your brother.’

  ‘It won’t come to that because you’re going to do as I ask.’

  ‘Jarin will not move on this.’

  ‘I’m sure you can persuade him. Use some of those moves you use on me.’

  Her eyes flared in indignation. ‘And you would have that, would you? Me writhing in bed with another?’

  ‘He’s your betrothed.’

  ‘You want to make me suffer, don’t you? For wounding you.’

  ‘I want Jarin to expose himself for the liar he is.’ He stepped closer to her, cupped her jaw, his lips close to hers. ‘How could you be with him, Feinith, knowing what a coward he is? And not just over Seth. All those spot checks and interference – I know it all comes from him. He won’t come here and face me himself; he always sends his army instead. He deserves to be exposed. And my brother deserves redemption for all those years of loyalty to the very Order that turned their back on him.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Caleb, but I can’t.’

  ‘You can if you want her. Unless you want to try and find another.’

  ‘There are no others.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He stared deep into her eyes. ‘Who is it, Feinith? Who’s your precious Higher Order chosen one? How long have they been waiting for this opportunity?’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re messing with or what you’re jeopardising if that serryn comes to any harm before her time.’

  ‘I want to hear it come from your lips.’

  ‘You are fucking with things way above your pay grade, Caleb,’ she said, her voice dangerously low.

  ‘My brother remained silent during that trial as Jarin disgraced him. He was loyal to the bitter end, and still Jarin did nothing. And here you are, now betrothed to the very one who betrayed my family. You won’t ask him to do this because you know that if he tells the truth, he’ll be shamed. He’ll be knocked a few notches down the ranking and with it, as his betrothed, so will you. And you can’t handle that, can you? The only reason you accepted the coupling was because it gave you more power. You wouldn’t look twice at him otherwise.’

  ‘I don’t need to.’ She reached up to touch his face. ‘Not when I have you.’

  He caught her wrist. ‘You want me, you do this.’

  ‘Give me the serryn now and I will give myself to you in ways that I never have,’ she said, her body pressing longingly, hungrily, into his.

  He clasped her face in both palms. ‘Redeem Seth. Come back with the proof, and I will have the serryn here waiting for you.’

  She studied his eyes warily. ‘You’re giving me your word?’

  ‘Come back with it, Feinith, and we’ll seal our agreement. But fail, and I won’t be accountable for my actions towards the serryn. I’m only going to warn you once.’

  ❄ ❄ ❄

  Caleb sat in the chair, swinging steadily back and forth as he scanned the images of the empty club. The club he had built from nothing but ruins. It was once a shell but now, during night-time hours, it thrived with the heart and life of Blackthorn. As the community drank and writhed on the dance floor, yelled and screamed and laughed, they forgot for a while about the reality they were subjected to. The only alternative was to grow in futile rage, resentment and anger at the tyranny and prejudice of others who had created the world they had no hope of breaking free from.

  No hope until now it seemed.

  Hope through the death of a serryn.

  A serryn who now lay in his bed. A serryn who had found a way in and had weaved her way into getting as close to him as she possibly could with only one intention.

  A serryn he was still supposed to believe had been there by fluke.

  The rhythmic knock on the door told him it was Hade.

  ‘Come on in,’ Caleb called out.

  Hade stepped into the office. He closed the door before approaching the desk. ‘Feinith’s gone.’

  But Caleb couldn’t pull his attention from the empty screen of the dungeon – to the spot where Leila had lay only a few hours before.

  ‘Is everything all right, Caleb?’

  Sensing the consternation in his voice, he looked up at him to see Hade’s usually steely eyes hesitant with concern. ‘Everything’s fine, Hade.’

  ‘Jake’s still doing good?’

  ‘Really good.’

  He handed Caleb a handful of photos. ‘I’ve got some updates on the other sister. It threw us for a while – the hair colour, the cut. But it’s definitely her.’

  Caleb flicked through the CCTV images.

  ‘Word is that Marid was the last one to have her. I’m trying to find him to see if he’s sold her on yet,’ Hade continued. ‘But that’s not all. And you’re not going to like the rest.’

  Chapter Twenty

  In the depths of her sleep, Leila felt cool fingers brush against her cheek, the envelope of hair that had fallen there moved away to expose her face.

  She frowned, opened her eyes then flinched. She sat upright and withdrew against the headboard as she remembered where she was, as she scanned the candlelit bedroom, the wall sconces setting the wall ahead alight.

  Caleb had changed. She glanced over the smart black trousers he wore, the fitted black shirt, the first few buttons left unfastened. Coupled with his bare feet, it was enticingly casual.

  For a fleeting moment she wondered if their last encounter had been a dream. But the ache in her body told her it had been all too real, as d
id the still-crumpled sheets she lay amidst, let alone the torn buttons on her dress. She closed the fabric and folded her arms to keep it that way as the flat, rectangular cream box at her feet caught her attention, another squarer one beside it. ‘What are they?’

  ‘Presents,’ Caleb said, taking his seat against the footboard. ‘For you.’

  She frowned. ‘What’s in them?’

  He slid them up the bed towards her. ‘If you open them, you’ll see.’

  She reached for the rectangular one and pulled one of the loose ends of the ribbon. The satin strip fell away with ease. She lifted the lid and peeked inside to see matching cream tissue paper. She glanced up at him warily.

  ‘It helps if you open it all the way,’ he said.

  She hesitated a moment then removed the lid. A delicate floral scent escaped from inside. She eased onto her knees and unfolded the tissue paper. Folded red silk lay within. She held the dress up, matching underwear falling into her lap. The dress was almost weightless in her hands – plain, knee-length, with delicate spaghetti shoulder straps and folds of silk curving at its low-scoop back. It felt luxurious in her hand, light against her skin. The quality was unmistakable – pure silk and expertly cut. She stared back at Caleb.

  ‘Like it?’ he asked.

  She frowned, dropped the dress back into the box and reached for the second. She removed the lid to see red silk dress-sandals, their three-inch heels slender and feminine. She looked back at him. ‘Why have you done this?’

  ‘Considering I appear to have a habit of tearing your clothes, it’s the least I can do.’ He moved off the bed and stepped over to the door. ‘Feel free to take a shower and freshen up. I’ll be in the library when you’re ready. I’ve got you something to eat.’

  As he closed the door behind him, she stayed rooted to the bed.

  He could have changed his mind. He could be willing to help her. The flame that had flickered precariously reignited. Maybe she had finally convinced him that she was nothing like what he believed her to be. Maybe Alisha had been right – maybe underneath he was loyal to his word.