by HP Mallory
“A war is coming. My women and I will fight alongside you. We intend to help the Underworld court as your soldiers helped us,” she announced in her strikingly direct voice. “I’m not sure if everyone in this room is aware, but my Unseelie warrior women and I do owe a massive debt to Damek, one of your young soldiers.”
Sinjin took a few minutes to describe our encounter with Maetta and her female soldiers.
“I’ve received visions recently,” Maetta continued, turning to face the room. I admired her; I had since the moment she’d proven herself once we’d freed her. She was a good woman and the type of woman we needed on our side. As far as I was concerned, we were lucky to have her and her female soldiers.
“Visions?” my sister repeated.
“Yes,” Lady Maetta confirmed, and nodded firmly. “And I believe there’s going to be another battle soon. I have come to tell you that my soldiers and I plan to fight alongside you, if you’ll have us.”
“Thank you,” said my sister, “you’re welcome to join us, Maetta. We’re honored to have you and your soldiers.”
“My queen, I come bearing more than just this news,” Maetta added. This wasn’t a great surprise; there really was no point to her coming all this way just to declare her loyalty to our cause.
“News?” Rand repeated.
She nodded. “I’m afraid the news is dire, hence my sudden arrival. If I did break protocol, I do apologize, Your Majesty—but this news couldn’t wait.”
“Please, tell us what you know,” encouraged Jolie.
“Your Majesty, Luce’s armies have grown back to their original size—by which I mean the size they were when they last invaded your beautiful home, Kinloch Kirk,” announced Maetta to gasps, moans, and angry growls throughout the entire Green Room.
“How is this possible?” Varick yelled.
“No time has passed!” added Dureau.
Maetta held up her hands as if to quiet everyone so she could explain. “Luce has wasted no time whatsoever in expanding his, so-called ‘breeding program.’ He has forced all of his tribeswomen to become breeders, and he’s been kidnapping women from other magical communities—especially the fae.”
“And how are you aware of this?” Mercedes asked.
Maetta glanced over at her. “I know, because I experienced the very same. And I have enlisted scouting parties, just as you have.”
“We believe you,” Jolie assured her, nodding at Maetta to encourage her to continue. Maetta gave a quick nod in response.
“Luce needs to be stopped by any means necessary—and he needs to be stopped now,” she said. “His hybrids age at a remarkable speed, which explains why his numbers are back to where they were prior to the battle with your forces.”
“I didn’t realize how widespread his breeding program was,” Jolie confessed, in a voice so low she might have been talking to herself. “All this time, he was creating soldiers in the background, so it never really mattered to him how many of his legion died.”
Varick spoke deliberately, clearly choosing his words with caution. “Your Majesty, are we sure this information is accurate? Luce’s ambitions regarding this breeding program must cross a certain amount of hurdles before they can be realized. Given the amount of possible participants that perished in Luce’s failed invasion attempt, and the difficulties the women involved in this program have faced regarding their fertility, I am unconvinced that Luce’s experiments have been successful. Or that Luce’s military has regenerated to anywhere near the size it once was,” said the vampire.
In response, Maetta scoffed. She certainly didn’t suffer fools and Varick, for all of his fancy ways, was no match for her. “I’ll try to forgive your insolence, vampire,” she retorted. “There’s a way to accomplish anything if you’re determined enough and don’t care about the cost. Luce has incredible power, and he’s well-versed in magic that the rest of us aren’t. He’s explored the limits of the darkest, most malevolent branches of magic and, consequently, he’s learned. Luce wanted to create a legion of super soldiers, and so he has—although the magic used was dark and the cost to his people was unspeakable. The things Luce did…” Maetta’s voice trailed off for the first time.
I looked around the room to gauge the reactions of the meeting’s attendees. Varick’s face revealed a certain disdain for Maetta, despite her obvious bravery. I immediately detected a certain amount of jealousy—but I couldn’t quite tell which person Varick envied. I made a mental note to investigate this later, but not too much later. I’d never trusted the bastard—I was convinced he was a snake, if ever there was one. But now was not the time. Now, there were bigger fish to fry.
My attention jolted back to everything Maetta had just said. My stomach tied itself into knots as the greater implications of the horrors she had just informed us of began to sink in.
My mind suddenly fixated on a memory I’d repressed. While maybe not the worst moment in my life, it certainly hadn’t been the best. I remembered the particular council meeting where everyone had learned exactly what had happened to me when I’d been imprisoned in Luce’s camp in Montana. I could still see the shocked reactions of the council, and the stunned expressions on their faces once they’d learned I’d been violated repeatedly. I’d lost my virginity in the most disturbing way possible, and the devastating significance of that fact had not been lost on them. For a while, at least, everyone had looked at me differently. Their perception of me had been altered in a way I’d never wanted.
My thoughts wandered, and I was overcome with anger as I thought about the number of women who had undergone this treatment in Luce’s name. I thought of the Unseelie women we’d freed. I thought of Dayna, and how she was literally strapped to a medieval rack for weeks on end. Now that Luce had expanded his breeding program, how many other women was he torturing? Where had all these women come from? How young and inexperienced might they be?
Bryn? It was my sister’s voice in my head. Are you okay?
As fraternal twin sisters, Jolie and I were gifted the ability to message each other telepathically. I used to hate having that link with her, especially when I’d first arrived at Kinloch Kirk as a prisoner. These days, I was grateful my sister and I were able to communicate without anyone else hearing us—especially in moments like this, when we were surrounded by people but needed to talk just to one another.
Am I that obviously upset? I asked. I didn’t want any of the other council members to know how weak I was feeling inside, like I could start crying any minute. That was my secret to keep.
Not to anyone but me, but I know my sister, came her response. That was a relief, at least. What’s going on?
I hesitated before answering. I wasn’t used to talking about my emotions or opening up to anyone. Having been raised by the Tribe, I was taught from childhood that feelings were for the weak. But I wasn’t a Tribe member anymore. I was a member of the Underworld court, and a proud resident of Kinloch Kirk. Everything the Tribe had taught me was wrong. It was a thought that I had to remind myself of too many times to count.
Maetta just reminded me of everything I went through at the camp. And then I started thinking about Rachel and Dayna and all the other women who are going through the same thing now. It just… just became a bit much for me to handle.
I felt a warm wave of feeling wash over me—undeniable kindness, affection, and support. It was Jolie sending me a wave of love, like an invisible hug. Suddenly, the tears that had almost pushed their way onto my face were nowhere to be found.
Bryn, said Jolie in that loving, reassuring voice of hers, you’re the strongest person I know, regardless of anything that happened to you in the past. And we will free all those women, I promise you.
I won’t rest until I make sure they’re all free and safe, I seconded. Jolie caught my eye and nodded.
With a newfound feeling of strength, I turned to face everyone in the room. “Let’s talk military strategy,” I suggested loudly. If I was going to lead this army, I
was going to insist that my forces were prepared.
Chapter Ten
Sinjin
Two weeks passed since the council meeting. The queen had seen fit to name me leader of the training effort, and most understandably so, given my lengthy experience and my overall prowess when it comes to all things military. Unfortunately, she had also decided to split this responsibility between myself and the frog, making us “co-leaders,” as it were.
While I would never dare to question any decision made by the wise queen, I could not understand her reasons for splitting the assignment between the two of us. Of course, the thought crossed my mind that Chevalier must have charmed the queen into believing him a good candidate for such a position. Otherwise, I could not understand why she would believe I might need counsel—and especially counsel from a foppish frog?
Regardless, her orders stood and I had to make of them lemonade, or so the saying goes. Our first step (which was my solely my idea, I might add) was to dispatch spies in an attempt to gather intelligence we could use against the enemy. We were particularly interested in knowing Luce and his tribe’s location, at all times.
Gathering that particular tidbit of intelligence had proven particularly tiresome, as our spies could never pin down our enemy for more than a day. All signs pointed to the possibility that Luce and his own were constantly on the move, never resting long enough for us to be truly certain of their location.
The battle training for our warriors was fully underway, as were the training sessions dedicated to developing our military strategy. Damek grew stronger as our sessions became increasingly strenuous. I demanded more from the boy each day, intentionally making the exercises more difficult and physically taxing. Damek, as the brave young man he was, rose to the challenge with aplomb.
I myself had my own challenges to face. My little hellion had been spending what seemed to me an inordinate amount of time with the dandy, whose name irks me to such a degree that I have decided I shall no longer mention it. The official reasoning given for this marathon of one-on-one sessions was the fop needed to train the royal princess to ensure she had mastered the Flame.
Why anyone believed the dandy should be in charge of such a project, I cannot pretend to assume. Perhaps because he is fae, a word which begins with the letter “f” as does “flame?” Any other such reason would seem equally arbitrary to my way of thinking. Regardless, the circumstances remained what they were, and I grew more and more resentful as the days passed and I saw very little of my princess.
“The idea she needs to be trained by the dandy, of all people, to be a more skilled warrior is simply absurd,” I grumbled sullenly to myself. “Truly, what does he know of the Flame? Everything she’s learned, she learned from Monsieur D!”
Once I realized I was now talking to myself, my self-reproach only doubled.
Good God, man! I inwardly chided. What has gotten into you? You more resemble an angst-ridden teenager than a centuries old master vampire!
The thought occurred to me that something had seemed amiss between myself and the Joan of Arc of Kinloch Kirk. I rather sensed that Lady Bryn had been purposefully avoiding me, which hurt my feelings in a way I had not quite experienced before and did not particularly want to experience again. My mind ran in never-ending circles, desperately trying to find a reason that could have inspired the Lady Bryn to swear off my company. The only reason which I could comprehend was that my little hellion was now the little hellion of someone else. I feared the worst had come to pass: Lady Bryn had chosen the dandy over yours truly!
How was such even possible? Was she blind? Daft? In leave of her senses?
To choose Chev… er, the foppish fool, over myself? The sting was so acute, an intense despair seemed to be weighted around my neck, pushing down upon me until it was a feat to stand erect.
I often thought back to that night in the forest of the encampment, where we freed Dayna. I fondly remembered the reaction of my little hellion as she read my emotions and the kisses she bestowed upon me once she realized I was hers, and hers alone. I sometimes almost regretted pausing our encounter that night, as it may have been my last chance at consummating my relationship with Lady Bryn, but I knew I had made the correct decision: the first time Bryn had a full physical encounter with a man, one she yearned for, it needed to be perfect. It needed to be everything the royal princess deserved—and she deserved the world.
And then it occurred to me that perhaps she had already experienced this physical encounter of love? Perhaps she had approached the fop instead of me? Perhaps that was the reason for their most chummy behavior of late?
The very thought caused my stomach to heave, even though its contents were empty. I realized with chagrin that I was hungry. I could not recall the last time I had dined upon a willing lady’s blood. For some bizarre reason, the call to satiate myself was numbed, perhaps even nonexistent.
Still, my body clamored for blood, demanding nourishment if I expected my physical abilities to be at their peak. As I was one of the leaders of an army soon to enter into one of the most dangerous battles we had fought yet, I had to give into my body’s demands. Unfortunately, not a single convenient source of blood seemed suitable. The last woman I’d fed from, Betta, was a friend—which was why I would be damned before I returned to her for sustenance. The feeding had become quite uncomfortable and had strained our friendship. In fact, things were still rather awkward between us. No, Betta was not an option.
Unfortunately, the fact of the matter was that the only woman in the entire world who could provide me the blood I needed was Lady Bryn herself. Having tasted the blood of the royal princess, no other source could compare. Her blood gave me strength far beyond what I expected. It heightened my magical powers in a mysterious way I did not entirely understand. I had lost the taste for all other women—in more ways than one.
***
I forced myself from my melancholy just long enough to focus on Damek for our daily training session. The young man was growing faster by the day. Today’s practice was devoted to swordplay, and we were in the midst of a complex drill I had designed myself.
Our swords clashed together, filling the air with metallic clanks each time one of us prevented the other from making contact. The sound only grew louder as we increased our effort, each wanting to best the other and claim victory—but only until we began the next drill, of course, when the process would begin anew. Finally, I gently poked Damek with my sabre, which meant I had won the round.
Damek groaned loudly. “Fine, you win!” he said, throwing up his arms.
“Yes, that is quite obvious, my boy.”
“I’m exhausted. That went on forever—normally, you win much faster.”
“Yes, you are improving.”
“That, or you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be,” he answered, giving me a raised eyebrow as if to insinuate he knew precisely what was on my mind.
“Rubbish!”
“Whatever,” Damek responded and bent over, taking a deep breath. “You wore me out.” His whines were a solid reminder that there existed no creature more prone to complaints than a teenager.
“Battle will do the same.”
He ignored me. “Sinjin, just ask her out on another date, already. You don’t really have another choice,” the teenager said, quite sensibly.
“To what and to whom are you referring?”
He faced me and frowned. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Um, the only woman you constantly stare at whenever you have the chance.”
“You must mean one of my training recruits? The blonde with the fetching rear. I, er, forget her name.”
Damek eyed me with a knowing expression. “How dumb do you think I am?”
“I do not believe you to be dumb at all, my boy.”
“Bryn, Sinjin, I’m talking about Bryn.” He took a breath. “And how you need to ask her out again because you don’t have another choice.”
“
Bollocks! Of course, I have another choice. I have the choice not to ask her out.”
He glared at me. “Either you ask her out and she says yes, or you ask her out and she says no and you’re miserable for a while, but then you get over it. If you don’t ask her out at all, you just stay unhappy. And totally spaced out when we’re sparring,” he added pointedly.
“I fail to—” I began, but the twit interrupted.
“The only good ending comes from asking her out and spending more private time with her to see if she, you know, likes you. Either way, you have to make an attempt, because now this whole problem is affecting me.”
“Damek,” I replied coolly, “Take a water break. In fact, take as long as you like.”
Replete with complaints though he was, Damek was wise beyond his years. The boy deserved a reward (in this case, an extended water break) for his excellent advice. The more I thought about his words, the more they resonated with me—and the more I realized how true they were. I was standing in my own way with all of this angst, and it was about time I took the proverbial bull by the horns.
Damek happily nodded and then disappeared over the crest of the hill, apparently on his way back to Kinloch. I took the opportunity to scan the training fields in search of the most vexing of all the women I had ever encountered. I spotted her almost immediately, leading an exercise and facing a large group of fae, recruited from Lady Maetta’s Unseelie women.
The Unseelie were a sect of fae that had previously aligned themselves with Queen Jolie and her court. They predominantly resided in America, which perhaps gave them the rebellious tradition of disliking monarchy. In any case, here they now were, and we were lucky to have them.
Audrey—who was sometimes crocodile, sometimes woman, but most tragically always related to the fop—had been critical in the effort to forge this newfound alliance between the Unseelie and the Underworld court. She had served as a diplomat between both sides and was largely responsible for the success of the alliance. I had to admit to myself that the Chevalier family seemed to have unparalleled diplomatic skills in their very genes, even if I did particularly loathe one specific family member.