Clashing Tempest (Men of Myth Book 3)

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Clashing Tempest (Men of Myth Book 3) Page 8

by Brandon Witt


  Gwala gestured toward the table. “Please take a seat.”

  I hesitated, then shook myself. I wasn’t going to do any good worrying about Caitlin. If anything, if there was a chance he didn’t know about her, my pounding heart might give her away. I was here, and I could see no way of getting out, so I might as well do what the king said. The less I seemed to resist, the sooner I might get to see Cynthia.

  While I wasn’t getting out anytime soon, the abundant access to the outside made it all that much easier if Schwint needed to escape. That gave me a sense of relief. This time, I took Schwint’s hand and led him over to take our place at the table. As I sat, a small purple bird darted away from the bread it had been picking at on the table.

  “All right, my family. Please go about your business.” Gwala made a grand sweeping gesture, motioning the other vampires from the room. “I must spend some quality time with my guests!”

  Each vampire gave a little nod and then exited the room. If they were annoyed at being dismissed, none gave any sign. Nor did they look toward Schwint and me. After the last vampire exited, I caught another glimpse of Veronica’s hair as she shut the door.

  As the door closed, Gwala turned, flicking the long train of his robe behind him. This was it. This was the time he would fall upon Schwint, if he was fast enough, and then imprison me. I wished I hadn’t been so quick to sit down. Maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference, but I felt threatened in this position.

  “I trust the food is to your liking?” He smoothed out the thin skirt as he walked toward us. “If there is something you crave that is not here, you only need to ask.”

  I felt my brows furrow as I leaned toward him from across the table. Was he serious? He had us to himself and he asked about dinner preferences?

  When he said nothing else, I felt my daring rise. “Where’s my sister?” I was surprised I sounded neither angry nor nervous.

  He balked, as if taken aback by rudeness. “Now, Warlock de Morisco. Let us not forsake the chance to get acquainted. You have my assurance your sister is in good health and is well taken care of, and in a vast amount of luxury, if I may say so.”

  “I want to see her. Now.” I felt Schwint’s hand squeeze my leg under the table in warning.

  Gwala’s eyes lost their shimmer for a moment, and I could once again read the centuries behind them. “There will be a time for that later. Right now is the time to get to know one another and dine.” His smile flashed predatorily, so briefly I easily could’ve convinced myself I’d been seeing things. “Of course, it is not my time to dine. I’m afraid my dining habits might spoil your appetite.” And with that, the hint of the monster was replaced by the effeminate boy king. “So, do tell, is the food to your liking?”

  I forced myself to look away and inspect the food covering every square inch of the table. So many meats, I couldn’t even begin to name what they all were—an entire roasted pig, a leg of cow, a huge turkey, the head of a sheep, and several other dishes I couldn’t identify. The offerings of meat, each impaled on a long golden spike, were arranged down the center of the table. Around the meat were platters of cheeses, breads, cooked vegetables, fruit salads, candies, and pastries.

  “If I recall, and as I stated before, it has been quite some time since a fairy has been within the walls of the Cathedral, fairies eat mostly fruit and flowers. Is that correct?”

  Schwint nodded. “Yes, we are vegetarians by species, sire.” I’d never seen Schwint eat flowers. Maybe he just didn’t want to contradict Gwala.

  The king sat down across the table from us, lifted a crystal decanter, and poured a dark-red liquid into his goblet. “I trust you wouldn’t begrudge your host a drink while you eat.” He gazed back and forth between the two of us, as if giving us a chance to protest. When we remained silent, he lifted the vessel toward us as if in a toast. “Well then, let us not speak for a time. I am sure you are both famished from your travels.”

  I turned to Schwint, but he kept his eyes fixed on the table. What if the food was poisoned? That would be ridiculous. I had to remind myself they didn’t bring me here to kill me. I looked at the hunks of meat that I couldn’t identify. What if they were human?

  Deciding on one of the dishes I easily recognized, I lifted a silver serving fork from the side of the turkey and sank it into the center of the bird where it had been carved. As the slices pulled away from the golden spike, I realized the table and the floor were a solid piece with the spikes jutting forth from the table—with no platter under the meat. I glanced down at the row of spikes, an image playing behind my eyes. A picture of vampires clustered around the silvery benches, feasting on writhing people impaled on the skewers, blood running over the tabletop, splashing onto the floor, butterflies drinking in the warm nectar. For a moment, bile rose in my throat. With effort, I swallowed it down and transferred the breast meat from the fork to the plate. Unbidden, my eyes flicked over to Gwala, who was watching me intently. Refusing to give more of a reaction than I already had, I reached across the table and spooned up some of the red potatoes drowning in melted butter. Had Gwala put that image in my head?

  With the vision still fresh, I couldn’t force myself to take a bite of the food yet, so I made a measured show of inspecting more of the countless food offerings, gradually filling up my plate. As I did, the living creatures grew accustomed to our presence, and soon the birds and insects returned to feast upon the spread laid before us. Luckily, I didn’t notice anything gross like spiders or ants, only butterflies, iridescent beetles, and such. Even so, it was an act of pure force that made me put the first bite of food in my mouth. Force and a refusal to let Gwala see the meal get the best of me. While I ate, I detected no flavor and paid no attention to which part of my plate I chose from. After a while, I noticed Schwint was eating as well, though I couldn’t focus on what he’d chosen.

  I’d expected something horrible when we entered the Vampire Cathedral. Actually, I didn’t think we’d get that far. There should have been chains, bars, shackles, and probably blood. The last thing I’d expected was to be unrestrained, let alone sitting down to a feast with the vampire king. My brain tried to make sense of our situation, to guess at what Gwala was trying to discover or trick us into. At last I simply gave up. There were too many possibilities, and in none of them would I be able to outsmart or escape him, at least not until Cynthia was safe. Better to focus on the here and now and not miss details or nuances of something that might come in handy later. And if imprisonment lay in store after the meal, I probably would curse not taking the opportunity to eat my fill while I had the chance. In that frame of mind, I let loose and ate, still not tasting what I chewed and staying far away from items I couldn’t easily identify as nonhuman.

  I had refilled my plate at least twice by the time Gwala paused from his drinking. From what I’d seen in my periphery, Schwint had finally adopted the same strategy as me, and, sure enough, I noticed he did choose some of the flowers to put on his plate—even going so far as to pick a flower from the vines encircling us to pop into his mouth. It looked like Schwint was returning to his typical audacious self.

  “It appears the meal was to your satisfaction?”

  “Yes, there was more than enough to eat.” I knew I should thank him, but I couldn’t force such words from my throat. Instead, I settled for overstating the obvious. “I’ve never seen a table with so much food.”

  Gwala smiled indulgently, choosing to read into my words, or at least pretend like he had. “Well, you’re more than welcome. It’s the least we could do after you honored us by coming all this way.”

  My teeth gritted in order to keep my tongue captured. I nodded.

  One of his long sleeves fell into a pool of blood that had spilled from the decanter as Gwala leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. “I must say, your sister is truly a delight. Such a fragile beauty. Stunning, really, like an emerald peacock butterfly—a creature that shouldn’t be part of this world and could so easily be
taken from it.”

  I forced the words back down my throat. He might not have brought me here to poison me, but I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t punish Cynthia for something I said or did that offended him.

  His look of cordiality never wavered. “I must confess, I have watched her for hours. She has not spoken—it may be a family trait, as you seem to be of few words as well. I suspect she has the voice of a songbird. Only recently, I found a creature with which to share my throne. Had I not, I would not be able to resist the desire to transform your little witch into my vampire queen.”

  My eyes had dropped to my plate so he wouldn’t see my fury, but at his words, I jerked up, my eyes flashing to his, my fork clattering noisily to the table.

  The vampire let out a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. Your sister is still a witch. I am quite taken with my soon-to-be queen and have no desire for her replacement. I must admit, in all my years, I have never sired a witch. Do you know if a witch, once changed, retains her power?”

  I only stared at him, both my hands clamped on the edge of the table, my heart hammering in my throat.

  “I’ve heard of such being attempted, but in those cases, the fledgling died before the transition was completed.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer conspiratorially. “In all honestly, I’ve never been tempted. No offense intended, but I’ve never had the desire to have any witch or warlock I’ve encountered spend eternity with me.”

  When I still gave no response, Schwint piped up, his voice finally sounding like the man I knew and loved. “I have heard similar stories of fairy-kind that had been bitten by… that had started the transition.”

  Gwala’s gaze flicked to Schwint, but he didn’t offer a comment. “As I was saying, I am not surprised at your devotion to your sister. She is quite the prize and, from what I can feel, is quite full of power.” He took a long draft of his drink and emptied the contents of the goblet. He didn’t bother wiping the small trail of blood that trickled down the left side of his lips. “As powerful as she is, from what Omar tells me, her power is not equal to your own.”

  I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “I am just a normal warlock. There is nothing special about my lineage. Mine or Cynthia’s.” I was being honest. We were more powerful than many families, as our bloodline stemmed from multiple demon patronages, giving us a wide array of powers, but I knew many families that could boast the same claim.

  Gwala’s smile gleamed like a child opening his biggest gift on Christmas morning—a smile that showed the full length of his impressive fangs. “Yes, Omar has mentioned several times that you are not aware of your own power and that you are vastly underpracticed. I believe his exact comparison was that of a teenage boy still wearing diapers because he enjoyed wallowing in his own filth.” His eyes twinkled at the insult. “Please don’t take offense. In the short time in your presence, I can see that such a comparison is unjust. I’m afraid Omar may not have the same love for you that I do. In fact, I dare say he may be just the tiniest bit jealous.”

  At his words, a few pieces of the puzzle started to click together, but I wasn’t sure. However, the insult seemed familiar. “Who is Omar, if I may ask?”

  A genuine look of confusion crossed his face. “He did truly never introduce himself? After all that time in communication?”

  Schwint sucked in a breath beside me, coming to the same conclusion I had reached.

  “I must say, though I am not surprised due to his covetousness as of late, I expected better of him.”

  “Omar is the voice that had been speaking to me since I came to the Square that day, isn’t he? The warlock that told me I’d been called by the Vampire Cathedral.” How that voice had tormented me, causing so much mental and physical pain I thought I was going to lose my mind. It was disconcerting to have a name for my oppressor.

  Gwala nodded indulgently. “Yes, I’m afraid he’s not handling being replaced with the most grace. I’m sorry for any rudeness he may have imparted. There wasn’t really any other choice. Even as a king and as old as I am, there are powers we vampires were not given. Omar was able to speak to you across the miles, whereas I could not.”

  I wanted to point out a phone call might have worked as well, but again Cynthia’s confined image held me back. “What do you mean being replaced? Why would he hate me for being replaced?”

  Schwint’s hand found my leg once more under the table. I turned toward him, but he was staring at Gwala. “You want Finn to be the Vampire Cathedral’s warlock. Is that it?”

  For the first time, Gwala gave a genuine smile to Schwint. “Indeed. So you are knowledgeable of the role of a witch within the Cathedral? I was not aware that the fairy courts could have such luxury.”

  Schwint’s shoulders slumped, and he shook his head, as if the doctor had just confirmed a terminal cancer. “They don’t, and no, I’m not clear on the role of witches and warlocks in the Vampire Cathedral. I’ve only heard such things existed, although I’d never given it much credence.”

  “You show your wisdom, Schwint. You did say your name was Schwint, did you not?”

  Schwint nodded.

  “Very well. Indeed, most things fairies whisper are nothing more than gossip or derisive slander. However, in this case, it seems that the rarity of fairy factuality is shown to exist.”

  I looked back and forth between my boyfriend and the creature of my nightmares. They might as well have been speaking a different language.

  “Well, I’ve never heard of a warlock being part of the Vampire Cathedral. You want to replace Omar with me? To do what? Being the Vampire Cathedral’s warlock is some type of job?”

  Gwala returned his gaze to Schwint. “I can see what you find appealing. His innocence is rather captivating.” He looked back at me. “Yes, young warlock, you are going to replace Omar, which, as I said, is why I’m afraid he has been less than welcoming to you. It is quite a coveted position. There is no higher honor that could be given to a witch or warlock.” He spread out his arms, twisting to encompass the room. “No end to riches or pleasures. The honor of being known as the most powerful of your race. An extended lifespan. Not as long as a vampire’s of course, but a little blood will extend you for quite a long time in comparison to your normal brevity.” Another sardonic laugh. “That may be part of the reason Omar is resentful. While the warlock before him was under our care for the better part of two centuries, Omar has been here only since the mid-twentieth century. I’m sure he believed such a powerful witch would not be found for a few more lifetimes.”

  I gaped at him, my brain racing, jumping from thought to thought, not lingering enough to really take any form or make sense of what he was saying. “I don’t want… I can’t… I’m not that powerful. I’m definitely not more powerful than Omar.” I faltered, desperate to prove my point. “If I’m understanding correctly, Omar lives here in the Vampire Cathedral?”

  Gwala nodded in affirmation.

  “Well, that proves it. That means he was able to communicate telepathically from Costa Rica all the way to me in San Diego! I don’t even have the power of telepathy at all. I’m afraid there’s a mistake somewhere.”

  He rose out of his chair so he was able to lean across the table, and placed his hand over mine. “My dear little warlock, there is no mistake. As I have told you, I was already aware that you do not yet know your power.”

  “I don’t have that much power!”

  He patted my hand like he would a small child. “You do. When you used your power to locate the Square, the strength of your power was captured and acknowledged. There is a constant search the world over for a witch with such extreme power. You are the strongest we have found in centuries, much stronger than Omar. It matters not if you know your own strength. You will be taught. Omar will teach you.” He hesitated momentarily, irritation showing across his face. “True, I am uncertain if he will be accommodating since his jealousy is so rampant, and there is little else to motivate him lately. But that changes not the fa
ct of your power. Omar will retain his position until you have learned just what lives inside you.”

  I searched his dark eyes in desperation. I had no idea what I hoped to find, but regardless, I found nothing for hope to cling to. “Why do you even need a witch? What could we do for you that you can’t do yourself? You’re the Royal Family. You are the most powerful race there is—” I nearly said “except demons” but managed to stop myself in time.

  He sighed and returned to his seated position. “Your innocence is delicious. Just because we are the most powerful species does not mean we are all-powerful. If you recall, I could not communicate with you across the miles. Only Omar had that ability. I do not have to possess it within my own body to wield ultimate power. I simply must control it. That is true power.”

  I couldn’t keep my astonishment out of my voice. “So you want me to be your long-distance phone provider?”

  Gwala’s lips tightened. “I will not accept insolence, witch. Guest or not. You are not that innocent.”

  “Your Excellency—”

  Gwala’s gaze flashed toward Schwint.

  “Forgive me. Finn truly is unaware of such things. He didn’t even know much about my culture and common known facts of fairies. He means no disrespect.” Schwint’s voice was strong and steady, but I could hear the desperation behind his words.

  The vampire king glared at Schwint, then returned to me, studying me until I grew hot under his gaze. After long enough that I thought he was going to lash out with his hand and slit my throat, he finally spoke. “The power to communicate across countries and continents is the least of the roles you will fulfill. You will maintain the Cathedral’s protection, if not improve it over what Omar could achieve. You will provide any and every need that vampiric power does not supply. You will sustain and hopefully accelerate the Vampire Cathedral’s greatest assets, which you will see in time.” He stood once more, hands firm upon the tabletop. “Your roles and responsibilities will be endless, as will your rewards and accolades.”

 

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