A Shade of Vampire 85: A Shard of Soul

by Bella Forrest

  “Stan and Ollie should lead the way,” I told him. The ghouls seemed restless, constantly glancing back at the hillside. “They can smell the Darklings before we can.”

  Armed and ready for the next stage of our mission, Trev and I followed the ghouls along the road, already invisible and wearing red lenses. From here on out, we had to stay out of sight. We were officially entering Aeternae territory.

  My jaw muscles clenched once we reached the other side of the hill. The village was a splendid settlement, with elegant whitewashed villas and brick-red roofs, forged iron balustrades and wide terraces loaded with flowers and evergreens. The alleys were cobbled and lined with black streetlamps, and there were potted shrubs everywhere.

  The people were nicely dressed, adhering to a more conservative but elegant sartorial code. The ladies wore dresses with ruffled sleeves and lace bonnets, while the men wore neatly tailored dark suits with pale ascots. There was a visual cohesion at play, and it spoke of an overall synergy among the Aeternae who lived here.

  It worried me. If Danika was holed up in this place, she likely had the locals’ support. Trev and I would have to be particularly discreet in how we proceeded. If we were to kill Danika, we had to move fast and with great care. An in-and-out operation. From where I stood, our invisibility surely helped, but it didn’t render us invulnerable. And the Darklings had ways of anticipating our presence. We would just have to get around them.

  Esme

  According to Thayen’s description, Danika’s countryside villa didn’t exactly stand out, since it had been made to resemble the others in the village. The worst part was that it was only accessible through one of the cobbled alleyways, and that meant we had to get close to the people who were out and about at this hour.

  Nightfall was fast approaching, and the streetlights were coming on, lit by hand one by one, courtesy of the village’s administrative personnel. Trev and I did our best to steer clear of the locals, using a variety of herbs in our pockets to mask our scent. The ghouls had no worries in their subtle forms, which made things easier for them.

  We communicated through hand signs as we moved through the alleys, making our way toward the western edge. Stan and Ollie froze ahead, then bolted into a side street, nervously signaling us to follow them. Trev and I didn’t hesitate, joining them around the corner. Moments later, I could see why the ghouls had grown anxious so suddenly.

  A pair walked in the middle of the main alley, both dressed in black. There wasn’t anything special about them at first glance—an Aeternae man and woman, holding hands and giving each other warm smiles as they engaged in their evening stroll—but the two Knight Ghouls who walked behind them were certainly cause for alarm. The only reason I could see them was because of the scythe I carried.

  Trev had no idea, so I caught his hand, making it possible for him to observe them as well. “Oh,” he whispered. We cautiously moved back to put as much distance between us and them as possible. The ghouls were right behind us, quietly trembling.

  “It’s a Darkling patrol,” I murmured. “Probably pretending to be a couple. Or maybe they’re for real. Together for evil and for worse…”

  They passed our street without so much as a sniffle, and I allowed myself a sigh of relief. “That was close,” Trev said, then gave Stan and Ollie an appreciative smile. “Thanks for that, fellas.”

  The creatures purred softly. They turned around and had us continue down the side street to another alley that would lead us closer to Danika’s villa. We couldn’t risk going back to the alley we’d just left, since we risked the Knight Ghouls catching our scent—they were better than the Darklings at differentiating between foreign and local smells.

  Finally, we reached the row of westernmost villas, all fitted with lush front yards and elegant wrought-iron fences. The lights had come on inside most of them, but one in particular stood out to me—not because of its appearance, but because of the Darklings stationed outside. They didn’t need to have masks or black-and-white threads for me to recognize them. There was something in their eyes, a hardness specific to those who’d been indoctrinated into the Spirit Bender’s organization.

  Trev and I moved between houses until we reached the backyard of Danika’s villa. Out here, four other Darklings had been assigned to guard duty, along with two Knight Ghouls. Whatever was inside certainly warranted protection, which made my suspicions about Danika being here all the more viable. We took a few minutes to observe movements around the premises, and I was able to tell that the locals did their best to steer clear of this area. They went on with their business and evening walks, but they actively avoided the property, turning away as soon as they saw the house coming up on their path.

  “Oh, she’s got to be inside,” I muttered. We hid beneath a large oak-like tree with heavy branches still loaded with dying leaves and plenty of birds’ nests. The underbrush made me feel a little safer, too—the swamp witch magic wasn’t enough against the Darklings.

  “We’ll need to get in there,” Trev said.

  It was definitely Danika’s place, not just because of the Darklings and ghouls guarding it. The backyard was just as Thayen had described it, with a stone pathway and a delicate black iron fence. There was a small fountain in the middle, featuring a decorative statuette of an Aeternae woman pouring water from her vessel, her hair seemingly flowing in the wind. There was a gazebo nearby, as well, made of wood and painted white, overflowing with decorative pillows and fur throws—Thayen had mentioned it was Danika’s favorite spot, where she’d spend hours reading during the day.

  Then again, I doubted there was much reading on the Lady Supreme’s mind at this point, especially after the blistering number Ridan had done on her. The Knight Ghouls prowled around the gazebo, their beady eyes following the birds who’d made a home in this garden. One by one, the feathered singers chirped and vanished into the creatures’ mouths while the four Darklings occasionally checked their pocket watches.

  Nothing was happening. It was as if time itself stood still.

  “If we get any closer, we run the risk of riling up the ghouls,” I told Trev. “We need a diversion.”

  Trev and I both looked at Stan and Ollie, as if we were thinking the same thing. Our ghouls sighed simultaneously, their bony shoulders dropping with a mixture of dread and disappointment. Nevertheless, they knew what they had to do. Stan and Ollie left our side and rushed along the far side of the backyard fence, getting close enough to draw the Knight Ghouls’ attention, even in their subtle form.

  The Knight Ghouls growled, instantly spotting them. Stan and Ollie bolted toward the neighboring property, deliberately hesitating to further stir the others’ interest. It worked, as the fiends jumped over the fence and started running after our guys.

  It was enough to get the Darklings involved. Three of them crossed the garden in a matter of seconds, equally alarmed. “Where the hell are they going?!” one asked.

  Another cursed under his breath. “They probably spotted a soul, which means someone died around here recently.”

  “What if it’s the outsiders?” the third asked.

  “Well, that’s why Leann over there is going to stand guard while we go get our hounds back,” the first one shot back. They jumped the fence and went after their Knight Ghouls, whose growls and roars erupted across neighboring gardens—Stan and Ollie were definitely giving them a run for their money, even though we couldn’t see them anymore.

  Trev and I only had one Darkling left to deal with. Leann was her name, and she looked worried. Their watch must’ve been quiet and uneventful prior to our arrival, and knowing we’d managed to disrupt them like this did give me a sliver of satisfaction. It felt like we were off to a good start.

  I came out from under the tree first, closely followed by Trev. Both still invisible, we hopped the black iron fence, our boots muffled by the soft grass. Even so, it wasn’t enough to keep Leann’s attention off us. Her head turned as her ears caught something.

&nbs
p; Remembering the spells that Time had taught me, I raised my scythe before she could reach for hers. “Steah rhys fellom-reyn,” I whispered, and a shimmering pulse burst from the tip of my illuminated Reaper blade. It shot Leann right in the chest, knocking her backward into the door.

  Trev moved like a shadow and reached her. He brought his short sword down and cut her head off. Blood pooled at his feet as I caught up, practically flying up the steps. Breathing rapidly, we gave one another a faint nod, then proceeded to jimmy the lock on the back door.

  I used the tip of the scythe, wiggling it into the lock at different angles until I heard the much-desired click. If only Time had taught me a couple more spells—wishful thinking, unfortunately. It was a miracle he’d taught me three attack and three defense spells, since the Reapers were notoriously guarded and secretive about their death magic knowledge.

  Trev gave the door a gentle push, and we went in. After a brief search of the living room, the dining room, and the enormous kitchen, we determined there was no one on the ground floor. It was silent upstairs, as well, but I caught the scent of blood—a subtly different fragrance from what we’d just spilled outside.

  There were four bedrooms on the floor above. Three were empty, but the fourth left me stunned. Trev and I froze in the open doorway. There were two bodies on the floor, their chests ripped wide open and their hearts missing. The blood had dried hours ago, seeping into the fine carpet and forever staining it dark brown. Cautiously, I stepped forward to get a better look at their faces.

  Derek’s descriptions of the Whips came to mind. “That’s Jolie Jasperstone.” I pointed at the dead Aeternae woman, a black-and-white thread tangled in the fingers of her right hand. “And that’s Rennert Gauss.”

  “Two dead Whips, and no sign of Danika,” Trev replied, a muscle ticking angrily in his jaw.

  “They’ve been here for hours,” I said, crouching to analyze the Aeternae man’s body more closely. There were no signs of struggle on either of them. No scratches or bruises, no tears in their clothes, and their expressions were chillingly serene, despite the wide and glassy eyes. They’d welcomed their deaths. They’d allowed themselves to be sacrificed so the shards could be extracted.

  “Danika’s doing this,” Trev muttered. “How the hell is she even walking and talking? Earlier today, she was burned to a crisp.”

  “Maybe it’s not her at all,” I said, giving him an alarmed look. “Remember it could be any of the Whips or, even more likely, Corbin. The Master himself can take over and kill the Whips to complete the ritual.”

  “It’s not his scent I’m catching, but Danika’s,” Trev surmised. “She was definitely here. If she didn’t do the killing herself, it must’ve been one of her underlings. We’re running out of living Whips to suspect.”

  That was the only other option available, considering the damage she’d incurred during her confrontation with Ridan. The dragon fire had burned her severely, and I doubted there was death magic that could reverse enough of the damage to make Danika able to walk and fight again so soon.

  “They didn’t put up a fight, though,” I said, staring at the Whips’ corpses. “If she’s physically unable to do much… what if she took them out because they were willing, and therefore not that much of an effort?”

  “Do you really think Danika can even walk or stand upright at this point?”

  That was a question I had yet to formulate an answer for. It wasn’t impossible, but it was still improbable, at least in my mind. There was only so much we knew about their abilities with death magic and the tricks they had up their sleeves. Noises outside distracted me. I shot to my feet and rushed to the window, the blood freezing in my veins as I saw the Knight Ghouls coming back, along with the three other Darklings. Seconds later, they spotted Leann’s body. One of them looked up, visibly alarmed, and while he couldn’t see me, I knew what he was thinking.

  It didn’t take a scientist to figure it out.

  I looked at Trev, feeling my eyes widen as raw fear coursed through me. “We need to get out of here. Danika clearly isn’t around anymore.”

  “I doubt we can go back down without them noticing,” he replied.

  The walls were closing in, and I had to figure a way out for us. I didn’t know if Stan or Ollie were still nearby. I couldn’t tell if they’d escaped the Knight Ghouls or if they’d been vanquished by the Darklings’ scythes. The only thing I knew for a fact was that if we spent another minute in this room, we’d be discovered.

  And I didn’t have enough death magic in my portfolio to shield us from the collective wrath of all the Darklings present. As the number of voices in the rooms below increased, I knew we had to act quickly.

  Danika had certainly been here, but where the hell had she gone next? How was she even able to move? Or was Trev’s theory correct and she didn’t really have to be the one to complete the ritual, after all? I had plenty of questions but zero time to figure out the right answers.

  Boots thundered up the stairs. This was it.

  Tristan

  The Unending had regained control over her memories. It was getting easier for her to sift through her vast past and to identify the moments that truly mattered to our quest. Her voice persisted at my core as I found myself inhabiting her Reaper form again. This time, however, something felt different. There was a fragrance in the air… it made me feel wary. Concerned, even.

  The palace gardens were massive. Air flowed through the enormous arches that framed it, making the greenery and the flowers tremble. Sunlight bathed the mirrored tiles that paved the narrow paths crisscrossing the entire space. Everything shone brilliantly, even the waxed leaves, and Unending found herself smiling as she marveled at the exquisite ensemble of reflections dancing across every surface—the gilded flowers that adorned the artesian fountain in the middle seemed to have come alive, as though the sun itself had kissed them.

  But she was upset. She was alone. She hadn’t seen her precious subjects in a while.

  “This is sometime during my Lady Supreme days,” Unending said. “But the Aeternae haven’t brought me offerings in days. Weeks, even. It’s not like them, and I don’t understand why. I’m feeling lonely. Neglected. I suppose it doesn’t mean much to you, but to me and given my emotional state at the time, it meant everything.”

  “How long since they were made?” I asked in my mind.

  “I’ve lost track. Millennia, for sure.”

  She’d abandoned the comfort of her throne, guided here by distant, familiar voices and laughter.

  “This is the Garden of Enkil, isn’t it?” I asked, remembering something from Mira and Kemi’s account of how Unending had fallen under the seals.

  She followed the central mirror path which led to the far end of the garden and past the artesian fountain, catching glimpses of her reflection below. Her hair flowed long and black. Her white dress danced in the morning breeze. Her black gloves reminded her of who she truly was. But she had spent so much time here, looking after her faithful flock, that she’d lost track of her bonds to the realm that made her. To Death herself. She cared very little for her maker now, because she’d had her lover killed. Death had broken the Unending’s heart, and her last words to Death still rang in her head, clear and sharp as a blade.

  Following the increasingly louder murmurs and laughter, she kept walking, wondering why she had been forsaken like this.

  “It had been days since I’d last set foot outside. The Aeternae were immortal, so they didn’t need me to heal them or fix anything. I suppose I’d made myself redundant, in a way. Merely a figure for them to worship and thank for their eternity. But they weren’t doing that anymore,” Unending continued.

  We found some of the Aeternae on the south side of the Garden of Enkil, feasting on platters of freshly baked pastries, which had been served atop an outdoor dining table made of elegant wrought iron and glass. This was a time before the curse of blood-drinking. They basked in the early sunshine. They laughed and clinked
their glasses. They were having a great time, but the Unending wasn’t included in any of this. For a moment, she felt like she’d been left behind. This kind of loneliness scared her more than anything, since she’d done her best to avoid it after Erethiel’s passing. My emotions were mixed up with Unending’s, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to differentiate between my consciousness and hers as we watched the scene unfold.

  Mira and Kemi were seated at the head of the table, lovingly gazing at one another. Arya sat beside them, joined by several other Seniors I recognized from Roano.

  “And you know what Filibert said?” Arya asked, all eyes at the table fixed on her, smiles stretching from ear to ear, everyone waiting for the punchline. “He said that’s fine, he’d been thinking of polygamy for years now!”

  They all burst into uproarious laughter. The Unending stood at the edge of the elevated stone platform on which the exterior dining arrangement had been set, and no one noticed until Mira turned her head. “Your Grace!” she exclaimed, then shot up from her chair. She was having trouble standing upright from all the giggling. Unending felt as though she’d caught her children doing something naughty and fun, something she would’ve loved to participate in, if only they’d reached out to her.

  “Pardon my interruption,” the Unending said as all the Aeternae stiffened in their seats. They put on strained smiles as they got up and bowed before her, but the Unending wasn’t at all impressed. In fact, the sudden change of demeanor was simply irritating. “Please, relax. You looked like you were having a good time.”

  “We were, Your Grace,” Kemi replied. “Just passing the time.”

  “Who’s Filibert?” Unending asked.