The Vampire Prince’s Bride

by T. S. Ryder

  "I'll call you. I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  They kissed again and Sheridan reluctantly left. Maribel stood where she was, arms wrapped around her waist, as she watched him go. Billie was waiting at the door, her arms crossed. The little vampire was glaring at Armstrong so fiercely the phrase if looks could kill crossed Maribel's mind.

  "Well." Armstrong pulled out her phone and typed something into it. "That was enlightening."

  Tears pricked Maribel's eyes but she brushed them away. Hopefully, the threat of legal action would help expedite things. She wanted to go home.

  "Miss Arnaz, I have some more questions for you."

  "I'm not answering them," Maribel said shortly. "I'm not answering any more of your stupid questions. I want to go home and you're just trying to make things difficult for Sheridan."

  Armstrong's lips pursed. "What if you might be able to see him sooner if you answered a few more questions?"

  Maribel hesitated.

  "That's what I thought. Come with me."

  The woman strode away without another word. Maribel scowled but followed, lugging her suitcase with her. If answering a few more questions would help Armstrong cover her butt and let the humans return to the vampire city, than it was a torment Maribel would put up with.

  Armstrong led her to the usual interrogation room. It was at the back of the hotel with a good view of the parking lot and nothing else. To Maribel's annoyance, Phil was there and Armstrong didn't tell him to leave. Rather, when she closed the door, she nodded at him.

  "Your suspicions were correct. He loves her."

  Phil smiled. "Like I said. I know how to read people, Kathleen."

  Maribel's heart picked up pace and a ball of dread sank into her stomach. "What are you talking about?"

  "The vampire king," Armstrong said. "He loves you. I'm willing to bet he'd start a war for you."

  Maribel glanced at the door, but Phil was beside her in a second, his arms wrapping around her. His grip was painfully tight. Maribel kicked at Phil's shins. He yelped, growled, and pulled a gun from his belt. Maribel froze. Her heart hammered. Were they going to kill her now?

  "That's right." Phil's grip loosened slightly as she stopped fighting against him. "Look, Mari, I like you. I really do. I don't want to have to hurt you. You won't make me do that, will you?"

  She stared at the gun and shook her head.

  Phil smiled pleasantly. "Good."

  "Why are you doing this?"

  "She wants to destroy the vampires. Something about her mother running off with one or something like that." Phil laughed when Armstrong glared at him. "Me, I'm in it for the money. Your king might start a war for you, but first, he'll pay a queen's ransom."

  "Stop talking and get her out of here," Armstrong ordered. "Now, before someone sees."

  Phil shrugged and propelled her towards the door. "Let's take a drive, Mari. Just you and me. Romantic, the way you like it."

  Maribel allowed him to move her, her mind darting all over the place. There had to be a way out of this… didn't there?

  Chapter Eight – Sheridan

  It was a mistake to leave Maribel.

  Sheridan paced from one end of his study to the other, unable to stand still. Logically, he knew that he had to leave her, that it was the best way to get this all resolved. Cooperate, and things would move faster. He only got the lawyers involved because it was so obvious that Maribel wanted to come home, and Armstrong still refused to let her go. They were currently looking into what he could do about it, but it didn't seem like much at the moment. He had also put in a call to the governor to get her to intervene in this one case, but so far he had heard nothing back.

  The vampire king wrung his hands. It had seemed like the best choice to leave Maribel there to avoid Armstrong from blowing the situation out of proportion. Avoid any military incursions that would no doubt lead to bloodshed.

  It was also necessary to move quickly, to stop anti-vampire zealots from causing trouble to the donors he was having to leave behind. He was sure that the longer he stayed at the hotel, the more humans would find out about it. He didn't want those protesters to get it into their heads that they could attack him while he was there. That would have ended with quite a few humans dead, or injured at least.

  But the more he paced his study, thinking about the anger in Armstrong's face and the slump of Maribel's shoulders as he walked away, the more he realized he had made a mistake.

  He should have taken Maribel away. Armstrong didn't want her in the vampire city, but had also said Maribel could go anywhere she wanted–Sheridan could have taken her to another hotel, or one of the vampire safe houses that were dotted throughout the city in case messengers or diplomats found themselves in hostile situations.

  Shaking his head, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Maribel's number. If he didn't hear her voice, he would go crazy. The phone rang half a dozen times before going to voicemail.

  His stomach dropped but he forced himself to stay calm. Maybe she was just in the shower. He left a message and put the phone back into his pocket.

  There was a small knock on the door. Sheridan stopped his pacing to glare at it. "Enter!"

  Billie slipped in. Her lips were pressed tightly, her eyes slightly widened, skin a paler shade than normal. Her shoulders were rounded, hunched, as though she wanted to make herself look smaller.

  All the worry and stress in Sheridan's body disappeared. Instead, he just felt numb. His hands began to shake, and he knew that it was about Maribel. Something had happened. He swallowed hard and nodded at Billie to speak. She inched a little further into the room, wetting her lips. Tears actually pricked her eyes.

  "I just got word from Armstrong."

  Sheridan nodded, his lungs feeling like they were collapsing. He couldn't draw in a breath.

  "She has finished her investigation and has concluded that the charges against the vampires are unfounded. The donors are being released to return. But her people leaked all of their identities to the media, their faces are everywhere."

  "Send a fleet of vehicles to go pick them up. And inform our lawyers we intend on suing Armstrong and her team for putting the donors in jeopardy." He stepped closer. "Now stop delaying. What happened to Maribel?"

  Billie flinched. She looked down at the floor. "My lord… Armstrong claims that she left the hotel. As soon as you left, she got into a cab and left. But I have tried calling her and she's not answering."

  Sheridan closed his eyes. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Either Armstrong was lying and she had done something to his wife, or she had told the truth and something had happened after his wife left. Either way, something was wrong.

  "I want the location of Maribel's phone."

  Billie's eyes widened.

  "She is my wife and she carries my child. I'm going after her." He strode to his desk and pulled a tablet from one of the drawers. He quickly patched into the security system, so he could keep up-to-date with Maribel's location once it was found. He glanced up to see Billie still staring at him. "What are you waiting for?"

  "Sir, are you sure this is wise? It could be a trap."

  "I won't go alone. I'll take two guards with me. I'm not going to argue, Billie." He strode towards the door. "Do as I say."

  ***

  Tracking Maribel's cellphone led him to a dingy little motel on the far side of the city. The building looked like it was about to be condemned, with rotting shingles and siding that was falling off. Sheridan pulled into the parking lot, tense and wary.

  "Sir, you should stay in the car until we've made sure the area is secure," said one of the two guards that had accompanied him.

  Sheridan scowled. He didn’t like staying behind, but he nodded. The two guards slid out of the vehicle and separated, checking around the building. Sheridan made himself stay where he was. He inhaled deeply and strained his hearing, but there were too many scents and sounds. He couldn't tell if Maribe
l was here or not.

  He heard the crack of the gunshot just in time to see one of the guards fall, howling. His head whipped towards the motel as the second guard ran to help him. Another gunshot. This time, Sheridan saw the flash of a light. The windshield shattered. He felt the bullet brush his ear. It burned like a flame. Silver.

  The injured guard waved his hand at his companion, yelling at him to bring the king to safety. But Sheridan wasn't going to leave. The assassination attempt just proved that Maribel was here. With a roar, he kicked open the car door and charged towards the motel. The muzzle flash had come from a window on the second floor.

  "My lord!" the uninjured guard reached for him, but Sheridan ignored him.

  A second roar and he leaped at the building. The siding crushed beneath his hands as he climbed rapidly. His uninjured guard followed close behind, the one that had been shot cursing and spluttering as he tried to get to his feet. From the assassin's window, he heard a shout–then a scream.

  Maribel's scream.

  Sheridan's heart stopped but even as it did, an angry burst of fire rose in him. A red haze settled over his vision. He felt his fangs grow longer. His senses grew sharper and he could smell Maribel, her fear, her anger. He could hear the rapid beat of her heart and her lungs filling with air, ready for another scream.

  The window was only an inch open. Sheridan tore it clean from its frame and launched himself into the room. There were three humans inside besides Maribel. He caught the first by the throat and readied to rip his head off.

  "No!" Maribel screamed.

  Sheridan's head jerked up. He didn't release his grip on the human, but neither did he kill him. Maribel was standing on the opposite side of the room, eyes wide, tears running down her face. Behind her was Phil Bennet. He had an arm around her waist, pinning her elbows to her sides. A gun was pressed to her jaw.

  "Hold." Sheridan held up a fist and his guard, now climbing through the window, froze.

  Phil smirked. "Tell your man there to leave."

  Sheridan tightened his grip on the human he held. "Leave."

  "My lord—," his guard started.

  "Leave! And take the other one with you."

  The guard hesitated.

  "Do as I say." The growl in Sheridan’s voice reverberated around the room.

  The guard's jaw worked, but he nodded and dropped from view. The trap was sprung and he was caught, but he wasn't going to sacrifice his men. The human in his grip squirmed. The king tightened his hold.

  "Let her go, Phil," Sheridan said softly. "None of you will get out of this alive if you hurt her."

  "Sheridan, no," Maribel gasped. "Get out of here, leave me."

  "Shut up," Phil snapped. He wet his lips. "Let go of my man, or Maribel dies."

  "Sher—"

  "I told you to shut up!"

  Sheridan growled low in his throat at Phil. But he let his prisoner go and held up his hands. All he needed was one moment where Phil hesitated, and he would be able to act. But the man was too steady, and when he moved, he only shifted Maribel into a position where she was blocking him.

  "I was only going to ransom her and screw over Armstrong, but I can see that's not going to work." Phil's expression twisted. "You're an idiot, vampire. You could have survived this. Now I have to kill you."

  Sheridan narrowed his eyes.

  Phil shook his head. "Let's all get to the van. Armstrong will want her pomp and circumstance. If I can't get my ransom money, at least I'll still get paid for bringing the vampire king to her. Now move!"

  Chapter Nine – Maribel

  The drive in the van was long. Sheridan sat across from Maribel with guns pressed into his chest and head. It was more frightening than the pistol Phil kept tucked under her chin.

  So much for not wanting to hurt her.

  Sheridan's gaze was unblinking. Maribel knew that if he was given the chance he would burst free of the steel handcuffs his hands had been put into. If that happened, Phil and his men would be sorry.

  By the time they stopped driving, they were well out of the city. Maribel's whole body ached and her head pounded from the tension she had been holding in. She had been wracking her brains trying to think of a way out of this, but every now and then Phil pushed the gun harder to her chin and fear froze her.

  Sheridan was taken out of the van first. When Maribel followed, she saw that they were in a lumber yard of some sort. Large, rough planks of wood lay everywhere, and smaller pieces were heaped in gray piles.

  Armstrong was already waiting, standing next to two thick posts nailed together in a T-shape that lay on the ground.

  "Finally," she said. "We'll show the world how to deal with vampires."

  "You're going to start a monologue?" Sheridan rose a brow. "Really?"

  Armstrong ignored him. "You know, the ancient Romans used crucifixion as punishment against the lowest of people living in their society? Slaves. Enemies. The only citizens killed by crucifixion were traitors."

  Bile rose in Maribel's throat as Armstrong held up a mesh bag filled with long silver stakes. They looked like railroad nails.

  "It was also used on vampires," Armstrong continued. "Fitting to put them with the rest of the trash. Vampires did it to each other, too, didn't they? They crucified their traitors with silver."

  Maribel looked at Sheridan. He glanced at the bag of stakes and laughed. She could see a glimmer of fear in his eyes, though, and knew she wasn't the only one. Armstrong smirked at him, a gleam in her own eye.

  Sheridan gestured to the T-shaped cross on the ground. "You're going to nail me to a cross? What good is that going to do?"

  "When the vampires see you hanging there like a slave or traitor, they'll fall back on the old ways. They will attack, and the bleeding hearts that rule this nation will have no choice but to wipe you out."

  Sheridan's smile faded. "I could snap all your necks before you had a chance to blink."

  "Before Phil here could pull the trigger?"

  The king's shoulders slumped.

  "Sheridan, no."

  "It's okay, Maribel." Sheridan locked eyes with her. "Don't watch."

  Armstrong pointed to a cross that had already been prepared. Never breaking eye contact with his nemesis, Sheridan took off his suit jacket and laid down. Phil twisted Maribel away when Armstrong handed the first spike to one of the men.

  "Stop," Maribel pleaded, struggling. "Stop, please."

  "Don't," Phil hissed in her ear. "Look, you might have only been a mark to me, but I was telling the truth when I said I came to care about you. Part of the reason I took this job was so that I could protect you from getting killed. But I won't be able to save you if you don't shut your mouth. I've convinced Armstrong that you're pregnant with my child, don't blow it or she'll cut your throat."

  Was he telling the truth? Maribel stopped struggling. The hammer strikes rang in her ears and the gun was still pressed to her chin, but everything else faded away. Her heart felt like it was bleeding, but what could she do? She was only one person and terribly outnumbered.

  And if what Phil was saying was true, was there a chance that Sheridan's long-awaited child would survive this? That hope gave her the strength to stay still and listen to the hammer coming down.

  Phil turned and watched, but Maribel kept her eyes closed, sobbing openly. Each blow rang through the still air, matched by grunts of pain from Sheridan. Her stomach churned and she thought she might vomit or pass out. Her legs were too weak and she sagged against Phil.

  When he finally let her go, she knew it was over. She fell to her knees, retching. And when she started to raise her eyes, Sheridan's voice, thick with pain but still strong, rang out.

  "Don't look!"

  Maribel froze. She trembled, fighting the desire to look at her husband and show him he wasn't alone. Sobs shook her body.

  "Oh, let her look." Armstrong's voice was full of malice. "Let her see what you've become. The vampire king, dying as a slave would have. Soon the va
mpire taint will be cleansed from off the face of the earth."

  Maribel's eyes rose against her will. She cried out again, then clamped her hands over her mouth. Sheridan lay on the ground, the wooden cross beneath him. His arms were outstretched, those thick silver nails piercing his wrists, ankles, and shoulders. Dark blood trickled from the wounds and his already pale skin looked translucent. His chest heaved and his eyelids fluttered.

  "Put him up," Armstrong ordered and turned to Maribel. She pulled a pistol out from under her jacket "Everything that vampires have tainted must be cleansed."

  "Wait." Phil stepped in front of her. "Wait. He brainwashed her—"

  "She's tainted."

  "You promised me."

  "And you've never lied?" Armstrong smiled at Phil, showing all her teeth. She looked deranged. "Everything touched by vampires must be destroyed. And you spent time with them, those vampires. Don't worry, I'll be sure to put your money to a good cause."

  Phil cursed and rose his gun, but Armstrong was quicker. The gunshot rang through the air. Smoke rose from the pistol in Armstrong's hand. Phil stumbled back, eyes widening. Blood poured from his chest. He blinked once and collapsed. He lay there, unmoving.

  Maribel pulled in a deep breath. The gun pointed at her now and she froze. She stared up at Armstrong's merciless eyes. A part of her was relieved that she would die with Sheridan.

  But her heart sank. Her arms wrapped around her stomach. If she died, so did their baby.

  "Please," she whispered.

  Sheridan grunted. Armstrong ignored him but Maribel turned to where the men were lifting the cross from the ground. Sweat broke over her king's face. His muscles bulged. With a roar that filled the air with rage, he yanked his body off the cross. The silver spikes ripped out chunks of wood. He fell to his knees, his howl of rage turning to pain.

  The men dropped the cross and rose their guns. Sheridan's hands came together and he pulled a spike from one of his wrists. Bullets flew all over the place. Armstrong shouted, firing her gun again and again. Sheridan lurched forward and drove the silver stake into her heart.