Puppet/Master (The Vale Chronicles Book 1)

by Joel Abernathy

  And then there was Francis.

  The elf's curly yellow-blond hair framed a face as beautiful and mischievous as a young Narcissus, and his ego lived up to the resemblance. His eyes were orange and bright like the sun, and when they fell on Leopold, the longing in them soon gave way to irritation.

  Francis and Leopold had been lovers once. "Once was enough," according to the latter, but Francis had taken to resenting his new partner easily enough.

  Dusk had hopes that they could get through the meeting without their personal conflicts intervening, but they weren't high hopes.

  "Thank you for coming on such short notice," the Registrix said, nodding to them both. "Word of your recent... acquisition has caused some concerns."

  Dusk glanced at his mate and saw Leo trying to control his twitching lips. The bastard was enjoying this.

  "I certainly understand the concern," Dusk said, promising himself that he'd be diplomatic. This time, at least. "We'd like to reassure the Board that all appropriate measures have been taken to ensure both the safety and containment of the chimera."

  "I'm certain that you have, Prince Dusk," said Daliah, "but that does not absolve this Board of its responsibilities. Especially considering that he is the Master of Ark's favorite Puppet."

  "He was," Leopold interjected. "And that's all the more reason we want to keep him."

  "You make it sound as if he's an exotic pet," Francis scoffed. Off to a good start already. He was wearing a silken cream-colored robe that matched the color of his skin, open enough to reveal the twin scars on his toned chest. His swirling markings flared whenever he was agitated, as if the borrowed magic within them responded to his moods.

  "We understand the risks," said Dusk. "But the potential benefits greatly outweigh them. For one thing, Arden has intimate knowledge of Eric and the covert missions that Aeon has yet to be able to gather proof of."

  "Arden," Francis snorted. "Is that what they call it?"

  Dusk bristled more than he probably should have in defense of his prisoner, but the Registrix interrupted before he had the chance. It was fortunate, he decided.

  "That's enough," the Registrix chided. "The Aeon was established to uphold the sacred integrity of all life forms within and without Teros, and the chimera is no exception."

  "He's been turned," Francis protested, even though he looked sufficiently chastised. "He's one of them now, and a hellion of a vampire at that."

  "He has a point," Armand said thoughtfully. Dusk had hoped he would be on their side, if anyone was. After all, his mother had played a large role in getting the former courtier to where he was today. "And as far as containment goes, it's all theoretical. Even your facilities were not built to contain a vampire chimera."

  "The damn thing is probably clawing his way out of the Vale as we speak," Percy muttered, tapping her long, clawlike nails on the arm of her chair.

  "He's not a vampire anymore," Dusk said, deciding he needed to get that much straight before they stripped him of his rank. That got their attention, at least.

  "How is that possible?" Daliah asked, frowning.

  "Chimeras have remarkably plastic DNA," Leopold explained. Dusk was grateful he was taking over on the explanation of the scientific aspect of the process. That had never been his strong suit. Yet another way in which the elf complemented his own skills and weaknesses. "It makes him the perfect test subject for the serum we introduced to you last spring."

  "I see that you didn't feel the need to request permission for this experiment of yours," the Registrix said solemnly.

  Dusk sighed. "Forgive me, xir. I authorized the project and take full responsibility for it," he said, ignoring the look Leo was giving him. "It was an urgent matter. So far, it appears to be working well. His condition is stable and after the first six hours, there were no signs of reversion."

  "Your explanation is noted, Prince," Daliah said, raising an eyebrow. "But I fail to see how an extraction mission for one of our operatives not only resulted in the failure to return said operative alive, but the capture of an enemy combatant."

  "A fair question, Countess," Dusk said, nodding to her. "And again, I take full responsibility for my cousin's death." His throat tightened but he pushed through. They already saw him as reckless. They didn't need to see him as weak. "However, the Brotherhood saw the opportunity to secure a greater victory for this organization, and the future of Teros."

  "He's right," said Leo.

  "Of course you think that," muttered Francis.

  The Registrix shot him a warning look. "Go on, Leopold."

  "The vampires may be abiding by the truce now, but we all know that won't last long," Leo continued. "They're just biding their time, and in Eric's case, they're forging alliances and building an army. Now, we have the cornerstone of that army."

  "Eric has other chimeras," Percy protested. "And he'll continue to make more. One going missing will hardly stop that."

  "No, it won't," Dusk agreed. "But it does grant us access to information. And it is my hope that in time, Arden will come to cooperate with us of his own free will."

  Francis gave a disbelieving laugh. "And I hope I'll wake up every morning with perfectly coiffed hair. We all have dreams, but Aeon operates in reality."

  "The reality," Leo began crossly, "is that my uncle grows bolder each day his alliance with the vampires grows stronger. We can either bury our heads in the sand and let it happen, or we can fulfill the purpose Aeon was supposedly created for and prevent another war."

  The Board fell silent. Francis was fuming and Percy seemed equally irritated, but at least the others were listening.

  "You have given us much to consider," the Registrix finally said. "For the time being, we will do things your way. However, if anything goes wry, I will hold you personally responsible. Both of you."

  "Understood," Leopold said before Dusk could say anything.

  The fae reluctantly bowed before the Board. "Understood."

  It was a risk he hadn't actually expected them to be willing to take, even though it was clearly not a unanimous decision. He just had to hope it wouldn't blow up in all their faces.

  5

  Arden

  At some point, Arden had fallen asleep on the floor, his body tucked into the fetal position. He didn’t know whether he’d been asleep for hours or days, but it didn’t matter. It only occurred to him as he looked up at the coffin he’d been transported in that it was the first time he’d been able to fall into a deep sleep without the confines of the box.

  The realization brought a fresh wave of despair with it, but he dragged himself to his feet and walked over to the wall Dusk had passed through so easily. He was certain he’d end up with his face planted in the crystal if he tried, and Dusk was probably laughing at him along with the others, but he reached out and pressed his hand to the thick, semi-transparent substance. Now that he was close, he could see the blurry shapes beyond it. Furniture, perhaps.

  To his surprise, the crystal had a decent amount of give. He pushed a bit harder and his fingers slipped through. It felt like gel that didn’t leave a residue when he pulled his hand back. With nothing left to lose, he stepped through the wall and found himself on the other side of a perfectly normal living room. It wasn’t unlike Eric’s penthouse, although the furniture was far more modern and eclectic. The bases seemed to be made of a harder version of the crystal in the walls, and above him hung a dazzling chandelier made of hundreds of tiny beads that looked like glimmering teardrops. Each one glowed with the same magic that lit up the fae’s markings, and Arden found himself entranced like an infant staring up at a mobile.

  “There you are.” Vox’s voice came from behind and Arden recognized the soft accent immediately. He spun around, ready to defend himself, but the ghoul remained where he was. He was no longer in his servant’s uniform, either. The sight of him in a black hoodie and jeans with the grotesque mask still in place would have been comical under any other circumstance.

  “Yo
u,” Arden seethed.

  Vox held up his pale hands. “No hard feelings. I was just doing my job, and if we hadn’t tricked you, you would have killed the both of us without a second thought.”

  It was true, but that didn’t make Arden’s feelings on the subject any gentler. “You’re a traitor,” he spat. “The ghouls work for the fae now?”

  Vox’s eyes blinked slowly, and he didn’t seem offended. “The vampires who take us from our mothers at birth and force us into years of arduous training for the sliver of a chance that we might be chimeras, only to cast us aside as drones when we disappoint them? If I’m a traitor for turning against them, I think I’ll find a way to live with myself.” His light eyes glimmered. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Arden didn’t know what to say to that. All the ghouls who worked for Eric kept their words few and they knew better than to complain about their lot in life. The ones who did were cast out into far less pleasant positions in the wasteland.

  “Dusk would have been here to greet you himself, but he got called away on business. He figured out of all of us, I’d be the one you were least pissed at,” Vox explained.

  “All of you?”

  “You’ve already met Harding, and the others you’ll meet in time.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  Vox paused, as if it took him a moment to remember. “Six of us. Seven, including you.”

  “Six?”

  “One for each species,” Vox explained. “Human, ghoul, vampire, fae, elf, and shifter.”

  Arden gawked at him. “You’re telling me you managed to rope a vampire and an elf into this bullshit?”

  Vox chuckled, to Arden’s surprise. “They joined willingly.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve been living in a bubble, kid. There’s no way to explain the actual complexity of the political relations to our species without you being deprogrammed from Eric’s brainwashing.” He paused. “And I lived in the same bubble, so I mean no offense.”

  Arden frowned. “You were one of Eric’s candidates?”

  “Is that what he’s calling us now?” he tilted his head. “It was ‘subjects’ back in my day. And yes, I was one of them. A failed candidate, of course, but I’d say I got the better end of the deal.”

  “Why am I here?” Arden demanded. “What do you want with me now that I’m human?”

  “You’re not human,” said Vox. “You’re a chimera, but it would be better for one of the others to explain that to you. I’m just here to make sure you get a change of clothes and food, if you’re hungry.”

  It had been so long since Arden had felt hunger or thirst in any human sense that he hadn’t even realized it until Vox brought it up, but as soon as he was aware of the gnawing ache in his stomach, it became insufferable. Eating was the last thing he wanted to do, but a change of clothes didn’t sound that bad.

  “Come on,” Vox said, shoving his hands into his hoodie and jerking his head for Arden to follow.

  He did, because what choice did he really have?

  “You’re bunking with me. Suicide risk and all that.”

  Arden frowned. “And any of you give a shit whether I live or die why?”

  “Chimera,” he said, as if that explained it. He paused in front of a door. “And Dusk just cares because he’s Dusk.”

  Vox opened the door to an unexpectedly large room. There was a large bunk bed on the far end of the wall and the rumpled covers on top told Arden that Vox had already claimed his. The room was obviously set up for two with twin desks, dressers and a TV lounge area in the middle. It looked more like a college dormitory than the headquarters of some top-secret interspecies task force.

  “Home sweet home,” said Vox, dropping down on the beanbag chair on the floor. “Anything in the mini fridge is communal property. Just don’t touch my porn.”

  Arden blinked. With half his face covered, it was hard to tell if the ghoul was joking or not. The glimmer in his eyes as he stretched out his long limbs and picked up a game controller helped. “I’m kidding. You’ll never find it.”

  “Right,” Arden muttered, looking around the room. He’d never had a space to call his own outside the coffin and he felt exposed. How was he supposed to sleep in a bed with a ghoul a few feet above him?

  “Clothes are in the closet. You can wear whatever you want of mine until Dusk takes you shopping.”

  Arden had never loathed the idea of anything more than a shopping trip with the fae who’d robbed him of his vampirism, but he opened the closet and sorted through the hangers until he found some jeans and a hoodie. Vox obviously had a look when he wasn’t on duty. Arden glanced over his shoulder to make sure the ghoul was focused on his video game before changing out of the robe. The clean clothes admittedly felt good. Softer than the leather armor he was used to wearing on missions.

  “Quick question,” said Vox, bending his head back as Arden zipped up his hoodie. “Were you actually going to fuck that salty old elf if we hadn’t taken you out of there?”

  It was becoming apparent to Arden that the somber and eloquent demeanor Vox had put on as a servant was just an act. He wasn’t used to the ghouls displaying any sort of personality. Then again, Eric preferred them to be silent. “I do what my Master asks of me.”

  “And whom, apparently,” Vox mumbled, turning back to the screen as a building exploded and his avatar leaped up onto the rooftop to escape.

  Arden’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t appreciate being judged by someone like Vox. He was a traitor. What did he know of duty and loyalty, anyway? “Is this what the Brotherhood does? You sit on your ass playing video games all day when you’re not stealing people?”

  “You can’t steal a person,” Vox said without looking away from the screen. “Technically, we kidnapped you.”

  Arden snorted. He paused at a picture on one of the desks. It was old and faded, but the image of a young couple in military uniforms laughing as they held each other was clear enough. Arden picked up the frame and looked closer. There was a vague resemblance between the man in the picture and what he’d seen of Vox’s face, but he was older. Even with the faded color of the photograph, his cheeks were full of life that Vox lacked.

  The sounds of the game paused and when Arden looked up, Vox was watching him. “Those are my parents.”

  “If you were raised in the program, how did you get this?”

  “They were part of the resistance,” he murmured, dropping the controller onto the beanbag as he stood up. He walked over and took the picture frame, his eyes softening with fondness. “Before my mother was kidnapped and forced into one of your Master’s illustrious human farms.”

  Arden flinched. The vampires needed sustenance, and once the humans had refused to provide it willingly, Eric had done what was necessary to ensure the continued survival of his species. There was a reason Ark was thriving while the other vampire territories remained enmeshed in conflict over limited resources.

  Vox set the photograph down and watched Arden intently. “You don’t remember anything about your life before him, do you?”

  “I was born into the program same as you.”

  “And you’ve never wondered who your parents are?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  The ghoul’s eyes narrowed. “Man, he really got in there, didn’t he?” He reached out to tap Arden’s forehead.

  “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

  Vox snorted, turning toward the door. “I’m gonna go find food. If you’re hungry, you can join me.”

  Once he left, Arden lingered a moment. His ego told him to stay there, but his stomach wasn’t having it. Reluctantly, he followed Vox out of the room and down the hall to a large kitchen that looked like it belonged in a family home, even though the lack of windows suggested they were somewhere far below ground.

  “Is this the Vale?” Arden asked warily.

  “Nothing slips past you, does it, Pinocchio?”

  “Pinocchio?”

&n
bsp; Vox rolled his eyes as he opened the refrigerator. “Wooden boy? Geppetto?” When none of those rang a bell, he sighed. “You’ve got some serious catching up to do. Starting with pizza. I assume you know what pizza is?”

  “Yes,” Arden muttered. He’d never eaten it before and he wasn’t at all sure about the cardboard box Vox pulled out of the refrigerator. Before being turned, Lauren had kept him on a strict diet designed to maintain peak physical and mental performance. After, he’d only ever consumed human food on missions to blend in, and he found it tasteless and unpleasant. The fact that he now required it didn’t change that fact.

  Vox grabbed a couple of slices and put them on a plate before popping it into the microwave. He turned toward Arden with his palms on the counter, leaning in. “You were human before and you look about the age I’m stuck at. Twenty?”

  “Yes,” he answered warily.

  “Guess that hasn’t changed,” Vox sighed. “Listen, I’m not gonna lie. The transition ahead of you isn’t an easy one, but it’s not like you have a choice, so you might as well make it easier on yourself.”

  “I don’t want this,” Arden said through clenched teeth. “I’d rather die.”

  “Hence why I’m not supposed to leave you alone for two seconds.”

  Arden frowned.

  “If it’s any consolation, I was in your shoes once. Granted, I wasn’t as madly in love with my ‘Master’ as you seem to be, but I bought the brainwashing hook, line and sinker.” He grew solemn. “Not like I ever knew anything else.”