by Kailin Gow
“When did you get to be so much like Sophie?” Pietre asked, a little amused. “You know she was quite a star. She made many a vampire tremble in fear when she was your age. Not that her skills have fallen over time. Quite the contrary as a hugtandalfer, but I do see some of Sophie in you. But then again, she tried to stake me, burn me, and whatever she could to vex the hell out of me. Such was our strangely entangled relationship.” He gestured to a couple of his vampires; young men and women who had clearly been turned relatively recently. “Christopher, Jessica, Addison, Katherine, John, George. Take the bag.”
They didn’t even hesitate, rushing forward at Briony. Kevin moved to intercept one, changing and leaping on a vampire wearing a green football jersey as it attacked. He snarled and snapped, then succeeded in pinning the vampire beneath him. He tore out its throat and ripped at its legs, leaving it twitching on the ground.
The other kept coming at Briony. She threw her ball of fire without warning, the same way the boys on the team might throw a baseball. It struck the vampire in the center of the chest, the white hot fire leaping up to consume the creature in less than a couple of seconds.
Briony spun, forming another ball of flames to throw, knowing that Pietre would not stop there. There had to be a reason why he had sent forward a few vampires to retrieve the scepter. There was. Briony turned to see Kevin in his human form again, held outstretched between two vampires with Pietre standing behind him.
“If you throw that flame,” he warned, “your wolf dies. I can snap his neck all too easily. Or maybe I’ll just drain him. I enjoyed taking his blood before.”
Briony fought not to think about the time Pietre had taken her, Fallon and Kevin as his prisoners.
“The scepter,” Pietre instructed. “Now.”
Briony hefted the bag. Could she hand it over? The fate of the world might be at stake. Yet with Kevin so obviously in danger, she wasn’t sure how many other options she had.
“Don’t do it, Briony,” Kevin said. “I’m not worth a whole world.”
He was. He was to Briony. Yet as the first tears trickled down her cheek at the enormity of the choice facing her, she knew that even for Kevin, she could not hand over the scepter.
Pietre, it seemed was growing impatient. He did something Briony could not see, but which made Kevin hiss with pain. “I know you love this werewolf of yours, Briony, so let’s see how much. Is it more than your kingdom, or less?”
“Look,” Briony said, trying to maintain her control “you are not going to hurt Kevin.”
“Why not?” Pietre asked. “I can’t see that you could do anything to stop me, and if I don’t get what I want…”
“But hurting him will not get you what you want,” Briony countered. “Even if you hurt him, I won’t give you the scepter. I can’t because it’s not for me to give.”
“It is in your hands isn’t it?”
“It isn’t for me to give,” Briony repeated, more confidently this time. She could feel that, as surely as everything else about the situation.
“You say that,” Pietre said, not betraying his emotions, “but what do you mean by it, girl?”
“The scepter chooses who possesses it,” Briony explained. “Try to take it, and you will only end up empty handed.”
“A pretty story,” Pietre said. “I think I am willing to risk it.”
“And of course,” Briony continued, “I don’t even know if this is the scepter yet.”
Pietre shook his head. “You would not be holding onto it so dearly if you didn’t think it was.”
“I think it is,” Briony said. “I feel it, but I could be wrong.”
“Well then,” Pietre said, “let us see.”
He moved forward to take hold of the duffle bag Briony held. Briony waited with it until he was close, and then hurled it in the direction of the woods. Pietre rushed after it. He made it to the edge of the trees before stopping, looking up aghast as the giant head of a dragon emerged from the trees, holding the bag in its mouth. Briony smiled with satisfaction as she saw the look on Pietre’s face at the appearance of Archer.
Another head appeared next to him. Fletcher’s. The other dragon blew a lance of fire that vaporized one of the vampires holding Kevin. They were dragons, but seeing them flying overhead, reflecting the sunlight like gleaming golden and green mirrors, Briony thought they could be fallen angels from heaven.
Renewed with hope, and seizing her chance, Briony threw a ball of fire at the other vampire. It burned as rapidly as its friend, leaving Kevin free to rush over to Briony.
Pietre leapt aside as Fletcher blew a gout of flame at him, then came up, calling for the aid of his vampires. Fletcher kept them back with a line of flame between them and Briony, but Briony knew that it was only a temporary measure.
Archer was at her side then, back in his golden haired human form. He tossed Briony the bag casually, before turning to Kevin.
“Get the princess to safety,” he ordered. “Protect her with your life if you must. She is the only one of the direct royal line alive now, so she must have the scepter. If another were to take it and force it to their service…”
Briony could guess at how bad that would be. Before, she had said that the scepter would leave those who were not its rightful owners, yet that might not be true for every one of those. Pietre probably wouldn’t be strong enough to hold onto it, but Briony could not risk it.
“What about you and Fletcher?” she asked.
“Oh, we will hold back the vampires for a while,” Archer said, as casually as if it were nothing. “After all, what are shifters for if not to serve the hugtandalfer? We dragons help you to have your magic and to protect you.”
Briony nodded, but then paused. “You said that shifters serve the hugtandalfer. Not just dragon-shifters. What do you mean, Archer?”
Kevin put a hand on her arm. “Briony, I’m not sure that this is the time.”
“This is exactly the time,” Archer said. “After all, my brother and I might die in the Queen’s defense, and then who would tell her? The alphas of the wolves have long been guardians and protectors of royals. All of your kind will wish to protect her, wolf. They will long for her. You know that you feel it.”
Briony knew that Kevin felt it too. Him more than almost any other wolf. Yet the other wolves felt it too. It was the best way to explain how Josh had reacted to her on her return. It even did something to explain why Carol had helped her rather than abandoning her. Though maybe that was just what she had said it was, evening up the score so that she didn’t owe Briony anything. Maybe it was more complex than that though. Maybe the werewolves around her were finding their own explanations for what they felt, when it was all just this influence she had as the Queen of the Hugtandalfers.
That raised some worries, specifically over what Kevin felt for her. Didn’t that mean it ran into the same problem as the attraction she and Fallon felt? That if it was because of what they were and this immense pull towards each other because of it, then could her love for them or their love for her might not be real? Briony wasn’t sure that she could stand for that to be true.
“How do I find out more about this?” she demanded of Archer.
The dragon shrugged. “The oldest hugtandalfer are always talking about the old days. A few of them even talk about the days when there were still werewolves in Palisor.”
“And what do they say?” Briony asked.
Archer shrugged. “We dragons are bound to protect the hugtandalfer, not to listen to them tell stories. Sorry, Princess.”
“There isn’t time anyway,” Kevin pointed out. Fletcher was still holding back the vampires with the threat of his flames, but they were there, and they were not going away. “We need to get you out of here, Briony.”
“He’s right,” Archer agreed. “That way, Fletcher and I can get on with burning some vampires. We’ll see you later, Princess.”
“I hope so, Archer,” Briony said, taking the dragon shifter’s hand,
and kissing him on the cheek. She had known Archer for only a short time, but he had proven to be a loyal friend.
Then Kevin was beside her in his wolf form and it was time to go.
Chapter 13
Steve drove, with Maisy sitting beside him and Marcus, incongruously, on the back seat. Maisy hadn’t even tried to explain concepts like wearing a seatbelt to him, and the vampire bounced about with his hands firmly gripping the seats.
“It is not as comfortable as a real chariot,” he said.
“But it’s faster,” Maisy insisted. Or it would have been had they not been going down the track ways leading from the inn into town, and had Mrs. Edge’s car been a bit more up to date. As it was, they drove along at a sedate pace, with Steve looking nervously at the road ahead.
Or maybe it was just the atmosphere in the car. Both Maisy and Steve knew perfectly well that they couldn’t trust Marcus. Not after what he had said back at the house. Yet they couldn’t do anything to escape him either. They just had to go along with him for as long as it took to find a better option. That thought was bearing down on Maisy in particular, given that Marcus was sitting just behind her, and Maisy knew that he would hear every thought she had. Maybe it would be better if she put the radio on. At least that would drown out some of her thoughts.
That particular experiment didn’t last long.
“What is that?” Marcus demanded. “What is that noise?”
“It’s just music. It’s coming from the radio.” Maisy tried to think of it in terms the vampire would understand. “Think of it as being like a minstrel in a box.”
“If a minstrel played like that around me, there would not be enough of him left to go in a box,” Marcus promised. “Turn it…”
He didn’t finish that thought, because Steve chose that moment to hit the brakes hard. Aunt Sophie’s battered car skidded to a stop, and it was only as Maisy looked up that she understood why. There were vampires on the road, blocking the way. Worse, they were vampires in layers of fur and steel that matched Marcus’ clothing.
The vampire leader clambered from the car, gesturing for her and Steve to do the same, so Maisy had no choice but to follow. She tagged along at Marcus’ side, with Steve just behind her as they approached the group. There had to be at least a dozen vampires there.
“You have left the gate,” Marcus observed as he got closer.
One of the vampires, a man with a full beard into which small bones were woven, bowed low. “We were attacked, my lord. The princess came through with her companions, and we sought to take her, but she managed to escape with the aid of werewolves. Freya was slain.”
“Freya?” Marcus sounded surprised by that. “Was she bitten by them, Bjorn?”
The other vampire shook his head. “It seems that the bite of the werewolf does not kill here, my lord. No, she was slain by the princess. Beheaded.”
Marcus stared at his fellow vampire in obvious disbelief. “She does not have the power yet.”
“She does. I swear it. I saw her fight.”
Marcus paused to consider that, then huffed. “It changes nothing. We still need the princess for the scepter.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Afterwards, perhaps, I will show her the penalty for slaying one of our number.”
Maisy couldn’t help wondering what that would be. Thoughts sprang into her head, none of them pleasant, and as she did so, she shivered in fear. It was bad enough travelling with just Marcus, but now it seemed that they were surrounded by a whole coach party of insane ancient vampires.
She looked up to see Bjorn staring at her. “This one is full of fear. It is delicious, Marcus. And there is another one. Who are these humans?”
“They are what this world calls ‘geeks’,” Marcus said. “It seems to be a tribe of some kind.”
“What does their blood taste like?” Bjorn demanded, taking a step forward. A second later and he was on his back with Marcus standing over him.
“You will not find out,” the vampire leader said. Bjorn half rose and Marcus kicked him, knocking him back into a tree. Marcus drew his swords. “That was for disobeying me by leaving the gate. Now, I say that these two are not to be drained. Do you wish to challenge me over them, Bjorn?”
The vampire backed away. “No, Marcus, though I do not see what is so important about them.”
“They can lead us to the princess,” Marcus said. “They know her haunts, her friends. Already, they are leading me to a place called a ‘diner’.”
Another of his vampires stepped forward hopefully. “If that is all they are for, can we at least feed on their fear properly? We have not fed since we arrived. An hour or two of torture should do it.”
“If you do, I will kill you,” Marcus said. It was perhaps the most surprising thing Maisy had heard from him so far. Though it was not quite as surprising as what he said next. “I find that I am fond of them. I find the little humans… amusing.”
Why did Maisy get the feeling that she had just been described in the same sort of terms a cute kitten might be? Still, if it kept her and Steve from being tortured by vampires eager to feed on their emotions, she guessed she could live with it.
“Now that the princess is in the world,” Bjorn asked, “do you wish us to head with you to this ‘diner’?”
Marcus nodded. “Yes. I believe my new pets intend a trap of some sort, so we will go there in force.” As he said that, Marcus paused, looking around. “There is someone here.”
Maisy followed the line of Marcus’ gaze just as two figures stepped from the trees. Both were vampires she recognized. Pietre walked forward with his arm around the shoulders of Tony, the vampire Marcus had saved her and Steve from. Tony looked like he could barely stand. His wounds were so great, it was beyond his ability to heal himself.
“Foolish to come here boy,” Marcus said with a look at Tony. “You know what I promised you.”
Tony looked distraught at that.
“And you, faithless one,” Marcus said to Pietre. “I had not thought the day would give me the chance to kill you.”
“My my,” Pietre said, “fancy meeting all of you here. There I was, minding my own business, or at least running away from some annoying dragons who seemed to be determined to distract me when I should have been taking the scepter, and who should I run into but Tony here? He delivered your message, Marcus.”
“And yet you came looking for me,” the vampire leader observed, drawing his swords.
Pietre shoved Tony stumbling forward, and Marcus’ blades swept out at neck height, beheading the young vampire. His body burned to ash and blew away.
“Was that intended to be a peace offering?” Marcus demanded. “Offer me your own neck and I might accept it.”
Pietre laughed. “A peace offering? Oh no. Hardly. That was meant to be a distraction.”
Vampires leapt onto the road to attack Marcus’ followers, rushing forward in a wave of violence clearly intended to overwhelm the older vampires. One leapt through the air at Bjorn, bearing him to the ground. Another swung a stake at one of the fur wearing vampires. He looked utterly shocked when it broke on the vampire’s armor.
“Fool!” Marcus bellowed. “Now, you die.”
Marcus’ vampires didn’t seem fazed by the surprise attack from Pietre’s followers. Nor were they slowed by those vampires’ greater numbers. Bjorn, for example, simply rolled as he hit the ground coming up on top of the vampire that had charged at him, bringing down massive fists in hammer blows.
Another had an axe out, and whirled it through a swift arc to decapitate one of Pietre’s vampires. Another leapt forward, only to be struck in the body by the back swing. Marcus’ vampires fought with casual brutality, using the strength and speed of far greater age against their younger would be attackers.
Marcus himself leapt at Pietre, both blades closing on the spot where Wicked’s master vampire would have been had he not thrown himself to the side.
“I will carve the blood eag
le in your flesh,” Marcus promised, but then had to dance back to avoid a knifelike slash from Pietre’s clawed fingers. “You are faster than I thought. It will make no difference.”
“We’ll see,” Pietre said, and wrapped shadows around him, disappearing. A second later, Marcus let out a bellow as claw marks appeared on his arm.
A vampire came flying through the air as Steve and Maisy tackled him low, bringing him to the ground just in time for the creature to fly overhead. It landed on the back of one of Marcus’ vampires, clawing at it as best it could. Trying to get out of the way and hide, Maisy rolled under the car, dragging Steve with her. It seemed like the only spot where they weren’t likely to be attacked, drained, or otherwise killed by a marauding vampire.
From their hiding place, they watched the fight unfold. Marcus’ vampires were obviously superior fighters to Pietre’s but there were fewer of them, and the surprise attack had done something. The one with the axe, for example, quickly found the vampire he had struck in the body clinging onto his axe to tear it from his hands, while another of Pietre’s vampires attacked him with a stake. The barbaric vampire barely avoided the blow before coming back with a thunderous strike with his elbow. Bjorn was still fighting on the floor against one of Pietre’s vampires, except that now there were two or three attacking him at once, so that he could not focus on one.
And Pietre continued to play a game of cat and mouse with Marcus. The leader of the Palisor vampires, turned in a tight circle, his blades before him, obviously searching for a target to put them into. Yet it did him little good. Again and again, Marcus howled as Pietre struck him from the near invisibility of the shadows he had pulled around himself. Again and again, Marcus struck out, only for Pietre to be fast enough to avoid the blow and resume his attack.
Yet it seemed that Marcus would not be easily beaten. He moved with his blades spinning, so that anyone who got close would be struck. He kicked at the dirt beneath his feet sending it up in a cloud that was clearly designed to flush out the master vampire he faced. With a snarl, Marcus struck out, and Pietre came back into view, jumping into the thick of the fighting to avoid Marcus, blood dripping from a wound in his leg.