The Pageant

by Leigh Walker

  Every girl stared at me as I made my way into the common room. “There she is,” said the mean blonde with the braids. “I still don’t know why he chose her.”

  Maybe because I’m not a nasty cow, I thought, but I kept it to myself.

  I hustled to my regular seat, surprised to find that Tamara had joined us at our table. I looked at Shaye, my eyebrows raised, but she only shrugged.

  I’d barely sat down when Tamara started in. “We heard your date went well.”

  “You did? From who?”

  “Tariq told some of the girls. We heard it from them,” Shaye said.

  “I see.” The fact that they’d all been discussing me behind my back wasn’t a surprise, but it didn’t feel great. I slouched down in my seat and grabbed some cornbread, slathering it with butter.

  At least butter made me feel great.

  “So?” Shaye’s eyes sparkled. “How was it?”

  “It was good. Fine, really.” It wasn’t my place to tell them about the vault and the list. I wanted to, but I needed to ask Dallas’s permission first.

  Tamara arched an eyebrow. “Is that all you can say about last night—that it was fine?”

  I shrugged. “It was very nice. We had dinner in the winter garden, which is like an atrium. I could see the whole night sky with all the stars. We had candlelight dinner and private servants.” I neglected to tell them I only ate one cheese and cracker because Dallas had hauled me off to a secret, tomb-like vault to see if my family was still alive.

  Tamara leaned forward. “Did he kiss you?”

  My face flamed. “No.”

  “Hmm.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat back.

  “What does hmm mean?”

  “Oh, nothing.” But Tamara’s tone indicated that a lack of kissing meant something, all right.

  “Have you kissed the prince?” I asked.

  She narrowed her eyes. “No. But I haven’t had a date with him yet, either.”

  “Hmm.” I selected another piece of cornbread and slathered more butter on it.

  Shaye looked between us, then cleared her throat. “Today should be interesting. Tariq has us doing some posture exercise this morning, and Mira Kinney’s going to film it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Should be a hoot.”

  “But the good news is that we get to see all the footage they filmed yesterday. Mira Kinney wants to review it with all of us so we have an idea of how we’re coming across on camera. Then she’s going to give us pointers on how to improve!” Tamara practically bounced in her seat. “I’m really looking forward to my date. I think the review will help me so I can be at my best. I sure hope the prince asks me soon. He won’t regret it.”

  I popped the cornbread into my mouth so I didn’t call her a nasty squat-loving cow prat like I wanted to.

  Shaye winked at me, but I just kept chewing.

  Tariq pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just put one foot in front of the other, Gwyneth! It’s not that difficult!”

  My ankles wobbled in the four-inch heels. “It is if you’re not used to wearing stilts for shoes.”

  He watched, his lip curled, as I rounded one of the ridiculous cones he’d set down. An obstacle course with high heels. Now, I’d seen everything.

  “You have a lot of work to do.” Shaking his head in disgust, he moved to work with another girl.

  My ankle twisted, and Shaye grabbed my hand. “C’mon, I’ll help you.”

  “There’s no help for me,” I moaned. I teetered around the next cone. “Why would anyone wear these hideous things?”

  Tamara zipped past me on the course, striding elegantly in her spiked heels. “Because they make your butt and legs look good, silly.”

  I bit back a curse, and Shaye giggled. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s just used to being the center of attention, I think.”

  “Why do you like her?”

  Shaye shrugged. “You’ve been preoccupied. I had to hang out with someone. Besides, she’s not all bad.”

  I watched as Tamara flounced past another girl, tossing her hair as she went, her nose stuck up in the air.

  I sighed, feeling guilty for neglecting Shaye. “If you say so.”

  The doors to the room burst open, and Mira Kinney hustled in, all business. “Ladies, our session this morning had been canceled.”

  Everyone groaned in disappointment, then started asking why.

  Mira motioned with her hands for us to be quiet. “I have an important announcement from the royal family.”

  The room went silent.

  Mira straightened her spine. “There are rebel forces in the area. The royal family has had news that they’re on their way here, to the palace.”

  Tariq whispered urgently to his staff of sentinels while worried murmurs broke out through the contestants.

  “The royal family has protocols in place to handle a situation like this. The prince will be here in a moment to explain. In the meantime, I need everyone to remain calm.”

  But calm was no longer on the menu. The girls broke into groups, whispering, as anxiety rippled palpably through the room.

  I overheard snippets of conversation as I wrenched off the high heels.

  “What rebels? What on Earth is she talking about?”

  “Is the palace under attack?”

  “Could it be our families out there? Who are the rebels?”

  Shaye listened too, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared.”

  “It’ll be okay. The prince mentioned something about…” What had he said? “Something about threats to the settlements.”

  “Threats to the settlements, or threats to the palace?” Shaye peered out the windows. “Are you totally freaking out right now, or is it just me?”

  I bit my lip, mind whirling. “I don’t know yet. I want to hear what the prince has to say.”

  Dallas stormed into the room, surrounded by sentinels. They were all dressed in combat uniforms. Gone was the courtly, charming prince from last night. This morning, he exuded fury, his face a pale mask, his fists clenched at his side.

  “Ladies.” He bowed deeply, and we curtsied back.

  “I regret to inform you that the palace has to implement security protocols. You will all return to your rooms at once and stay there until further notice. There will be guards stationed outside. Your maids will bring you your meals.” His eyes flashed. “I am sorry for the inconvenience and anxiety this may cause. But I can assure you that my team will keep you all safe. But do not leave your chambers under any circumstances. Understood?”

  The other girls and I mumbled our assent.

  With another stiff, formal bow, the prince left.

  I wanted to chase after him and ask a million questions. Who was attacking? How close were they? Would the prince himself be in danger?

  Were those my people out there, or were the so-called “rebel forces” another group?

  My mind whirled as we were marched from the room. I longed for Dallas so I could see him, touch him. I also desperately wanted to find out what was going on, but he was gone.

  All I was left with were questions. And fear, forming an icy circle around my heart.

  Chapter 21

  Fuel For The Fire

  I made another attempt to plead with the guards who stood outside my door. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to check on my friend.”

  One of the guards was the young man who’d taken me from my home that first day. He grimaced. “Miss, we’ve told you—three times, now—our assignment is to stay here and protect you. We’re not to leave.”

  “But the prince would want me to know—”

  “I also remember instructing you not to speak to the guards, miss.” He frowned. “You’ve not made much progress in that department.”

  I put my hand on my hip. “When the prince checks in, tell him I need to speak to him!” I closed the door firmly, just short of slamming it. The guard and this whole situation frustrated me.
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br />   I had no idea how Eve was, or if she was safe. Had Dallas forgotten about her in all the commotion? Was she afraid? Was she alone or protected?

  Eve wasn’t my only concern. I paced the length of my room, fretting. I had no idea what was going on either inside or outside of the palace. Last night, I’d learned that my father and Balkyn could still be alive.

  Did that mean they were still fighting?

  Could they be part of the “rebel forces” attacking the palace?

  I gave up pacing and went to the window, staring out absently at first until my eyes focused on the scene below.

  There were guards lined up outside, rows and rows of them, with shields and large guns strapped across their backs. There were shouted instructions coming from down there, but I couldn’t make them out. Then Dallas came forward, commanding a chestnut horse, his father riding by his side.

  The prince shouted more orders at the guard, then rode ahead.

  The soldiers followed the king and the prince, marching in formation.

  “No.” My voice came out hoarse. Dallas was not only going into battle, he was leading it. No, no, no.

  I felt sick as I watched the army move forward.

  Then, from a wooded part of the grounds, the rebels burst forth. Hundreds of soldiers sprinted for the palace, shooting and screaming.

  The guards threw open my door. “Miss! Get down!” They wrenched me away from the window and shoved me to the ground.

  “Get your hands off me, and get out of my way!” I fought them, anxious to get back to the window.

  “All palace guards! Report to the landing at once!” a voice boomed from the hall, and my two sentinels looked at each other.

  “Stay here,” the young guard warned me. “We’re going to be briefed, then we’ll be right back.”

  They left the room, and I scrambled to the window, my heart in my throat.

  The rebels and the palace guard had met in the middle of the grounds.

  There were shots and screams. Soldiers from both sides were hit. I saw men from both armies go down. I clapped my hand over my mouth as I searched for the prince. I found him inside the rebel’s ranks, fighting for his life.

  Dallas was surrounded, his horse rearing up as the rebels fired.

  Intent on taking the prince, the rebels surrounding him paid no attention to the king. It was a dangerous mistake.

  The king circled behind them then jumped off his horse. He grabbed the nearest soldier, wrenching the gun from his hand. The king snapped the rebel’s neck with his bare hands.

  I held back a scream as the rebel crumpled to the ground. The king grabbed the next man, exposing his neck, and bit him, sucking him dry as the man’s arms flailed.

  The other guards caught on to what was happening and turned their guns from the prince to the king. But even as they fired, the king continued to vanquish the rebels. The bullets shook his body, but the king staggered on, feasting on another soldier. And another.

  And another.

  I could hear the rebels’ cries. Some started to retreat. But it was too late.

  Dallas climbed down from his horse. They fired shots at him, but like his father, the prince seemed immune to the bullets. He was hit, but he didn’t seem injured. He kept moving, and he was fast.

  I sighed in relief.

  But then Dallas grabbed a rebel and snapped his neck back. He leaned back and plunged his fangs into him, draining him as the man convulsed in his grasp.

  I barely made it to the bathroom before I was violently sick.

  I crawled back to the window, unable to tear my eyes away from the devastation. I didn’t know how much time passed as Dallas worked his way through the rebels, quickly and methodically. He ravaged soldier after soldier, sinking his fangs into them and emptying the life from their bodies.

  The corpses littered the grounds, empty husks.

  The Black Guard followed royals’ example—they abandoned their guns and attacked with brute, physical force. They grabbed the soldiers and fed on them. The shrieks from the rebels echoed off the palace, an unearthly, desolate cacophony.

  In the blink of an eye, the “battle” had turned into a mass feeding frenzy. Some rebels ran, back toward the woods, while others were being grouped together with their hands up.

  But the largest group, by far, was the dead. Hundreds of bodies were strewn across the garden, what was left of their blood seeping into the grounds.

  One of the royal sentinels started a bonfire. They dragged the bodies to the flames, creating a rebel funeral pyre.

  So many dead.

  I watched, unable to tear myself away, as the vampires finished desecrating the humans.

  When my guards came back, I didn’t ask them about Eve. I didn’t ask them about anything. Instead, I dragged myself from the window to my bed. I stared at my ceiling. But I was unable to get the image of Dallas out of my head.

  Dallas killing another rebel soldier by drinking him dry. Dallas adding another body to the deep pile collecting around him.

  Dallas, my Dallas, with the blood of human soldiers dripping down his face as he crushed his enemies.

  His enemies.

  My people.

  Chapter 22

  The Show Must Go On

  “Miss?” Evangeline opened my door a fraction. “May I come in?”

  “Can I say no?”

  She stepped into the room. “Not really. You need to eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry.” My voice was scratchy.

  “Please, miss? I brought some tea and toast.”

  I sniffled but sat up a little. “Is everyone all right? The staff?”

  She nodded as she placed the tray on the small table near the fire. “No one from the palace was hurt, except for some of the guards. Three died. Two are in the infirmary but are expected to make it.”

  “And…the prince?”

  “He’s fine. He’s been in a meeting with his father and the guard all afternoon.”

  I got up slowly and made my way to the armchair near the fire. “Did you see any of it? The battle?”

  But it hadn’t been a battle. It had been a bloodbath.

  Evangeline’s face pinched. “No. But we heard about it.”

  I took a sip of tea, then shakily set down my cup. “Do you have family out there still?”

  “My mother and father still live back in the settlement. They wouldn’t come here to work. But I don’t have anyone who fought in the war, at least, not anyone close to me.” She raised her gaze to meet mine. “I don’t know if I could’ve come here if things were different.”

  I nodded. “My father and brother fought in the war. I haven’t seen them in five years. They never came home.”

  “I’m so sorry. Today must’ve been horrible for you.” Her gaze flicked to the window. “Watching and wondering.”

  “The royal guard—they slaughtered the rebels. Barely anyone was left alive.”

  Evangeline sucked in a breath. “That’s what we heard.”

  “The humans didn’t stand a chance. They were clearly outmatched. They didn’t even know what hit them. But the prince and the king showed no mercy.”

  She winced. “But they took prisoners. A dozen of them, I heard.”

  I shook my head. “They killed hundreds of people. In minutes, Evangeline. And the bullets didn’t stop them.” I snapped my mouth closed. I shouldn’t be babbling like this. I still couldn’t comprehend what I’d seen, but I was putting Evangeline in a bad position by making her my confidant.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. Thank you for the tea.”

  She curtsied. “Yes, miss. One last thing.”

  “Yes?”

  She looked at the floor while she delivered the news. “The competition is continuing as scheduled. The prince has a dinner date this evening. Classes will resume in the morning at the normal time.”

  “What?”

  Evangeline blushed. “Tariq said it is of the utmost importance to continue on. He sai
d it’s to send the right message to the settlements and also to the rebels. So we’re to act as if nothing has happened.” Her gaze sought out mine. “All of us—the staff and the contestants.”

  “Tariq is a bloody prat of a douchelord.”

  Evangeline laughed but quickly disguised it as a cough.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No worries, my lady. I have to go now, but please ring me if you’d like something more to eat. I’m happy to get it for you.”

  “Of course.”

  She left, and I sat there, stewing. Dallas had a date tonight?

  It was ludicrous that he’d be socializing in a tuxedo, romancing another contestant, after killing dozens of innocent people.

  Fuming, I looked outside my room. No guards.

  Without thinking it through, I tore down the hall.

  I checked the salon, the formal dining room, and even the winter garden.

  No Dallas. No date. No film crew.

  Where could they be?

  Because of the attack, the sentinels paid me no attention. Instead of standing against the walls, per their normal routine, they were monitoring the hallways, watching the windows, and stalking about the perimeter.

  They were also all armed.

  Lucky for me, they were worried about the rebels, not the girls from the Pageant. So I slipped down another hall, largely unnoticed, determined to catch sight of the prince.

  I was in the grand foyer when bright color flashed outside the entrance of the palace, the deep-blue-teal of a flowing dress. Creeping closer, I got a better look. Dallas stood on the palace steps, his hand securely on the small of Tamara’s back. They both smiled at Mira Kinney.

  Mira beamed back, then faced the cameras, chattering into her microphone.

  I crept closer, careful to make myself small, and watched. Dallas laughed at something Mira asked him. Tamara was all teeth and décolletage, smiling and spilling out of her dress.

  It took everything in me to stay inside. I battled with myself. Part of me wanted to go out there and wrench his hand off of her then scream at the top of my lungs directly in his face.