by CK Dawn
“Yeah, but how?”
“You have heard of ancient Roman aqueducts, right?”
“No shit? I know about them, but I didn’t think they were still being used.”
“They knew their shit, huh? I’ve always admired the design of aqueducts. Fantastic, isn’t it.”
“I’ll say.”
The smell of home cooking wafted towards her. The soothing aroma reminded her of Hilgrid’s delicious rustic soup from the Spree. Chloe gave a solemn smile, thinking back on how Mary’s unicorn horn shaving elixir had healed her wounds and Hilgrid’s soup had healed her soul. Especially after the walk from hell, and having to kill scab after scab when Chloe had rejected any more of their tributes being laid at her and Bram’s feet. She shuddered at the image of the human body parts and trophies the scabs so proudly gave to her. For now, she decided to focus on the good things still left in the world and followed her nose towards the mostly deserted Colosseum with Bean in tow.
In the long shadow of the ancient ruin was a colorfully dressed elderly woman standing in the very same spot Chloe had seen another woman begging for change the first time she’d visited the Colosseum. It could have even been the same woman. Chloe couldn’t be sure. The Romani woman was hunched over, tending to a large boiling pot on top of a medal barrel. A grate covered the barrel creating a makeshift outdoor grill and kitchen work station.
“I see the gypsies survived the faepocalypse.” Bean mumbled, sounding like a mean girl trying to impress the ‘it’ crowd in high school. He brushed his hand across his pocket, subconsciously checking to see if its contents were still inside.
“Romani.” Chloe corrected.
“What?”
“They are called Romani or Roma. Gypsy is just...well it’s just fucking rude. Especially coming from someone who could be described as nothing more than a blood sucking tick!”
“Touché...Horseman Hottie.”
Chloe glared up at him. “I’m more than that!”
“So am I. Besides, apparently I’m not as well travelled as you are. I didn’t mean anything by it, just didn’t know any better. Now I do. Truce?”
“Truce. C’mon, whatever she’s cooking, it smells delicious.”
Chloe awaited her turn in line for a bowl of soup along with some other hungry souls. She watched as the people in front of her offered a diced carrot here and a sliced potato there, all contributing what little they had in a real life version of Stone Soup to share with others and create an actual meal for everyone in the neighborhood.
“Grazie.” Chloe took the offering and inhaled the steam coming up from the bowl before devouring a spoonful. “Mm.” She smiled.
“Prego.” The Romani woman beamed back at her, held out her ladle, and offered some to Bean.
“No gratz.” Bean said a little too loudly as if his volume would make it easier for the woman to understand his butchered Italian. “Hard pass on the rat stew.” He mumbled under his breath.
“È pollo.” The Romani woman corrected. “Ha. Sei il ratto!” She poured the ladle full of soup back in her large pot with care before clicking her two front teeth against her bottom lip mimicking a sewer dweller’s overbite.
Chloe giggled. “It’s chicken and she said you’re the...”
“Yeah, I got it.” Bean interrupted. “Psh, I’m not a rat.” He mumbled.
Chloe unwrapped a faerie whip from her wrist and offered it to the kind woman. “For you, uh, per te.” She made Bean hold her bowl of half eaten soup and began wrapping the delicate looking brass and iron barbed wire around the woman’s wrist. “It’s a weapon, especially important nowadays. It’s a, un'arma.”
“Oh, un’arma.” The woman cooed in understanding. She mimicked strangling herself as if she were a scab. “Grazie mille, bella.”
“Prego.” Chloe laughed. She waved goodbye, moved out of line, and grabbed her soup back from her dusk blood bodyguard.
Bean followed, becoming even more stoic than usual as he stared off into the distance. Something hidden in the darkest shadow of the Colosseum had him on edge.
“What is it?” Chloe followed the direction of his glare. A giant mass of a man was staring back at them.
“Hopefully nothing.” Bean seemed on edge.
Obscured in the shadows, several more figures joined the first man. They were engaged in a fierce argument before turning silent and becoming transfixed on Bean.
“That ‘nothing’ looks a lot like it’s about to brew into a something.”
“It better be nothing.” Bean growled and started pacing back and forth. He stared the group down and let his fangs protrude, almost daring them into an altercation.
“Why don’t you just beat on your chest already?”
The dusk blood harrumphed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, human!”
“Really? I’m not so sure about that, Bean!” She hissed. “Because right now, it looks like you’re in a pissing contest with that testosterone-pack-of-idiots who seem hell bent on fighting the biggest baddest target they can find. And you’re going to let them!”
“They’re not human...not entirely.”
“What?”
“The big one, I recognize him. He’s part of the Vega pack.”
“Vega pack?”
“Werewolves.” Bean whispered.
“Oh good God.” Chloe raised her hands in the air in exasperation. “I’m done.”
“What, fae, witches, and vampires are your new normal, but the idea of werewolves and you’re done? That’s your bridge too far?”
“No. But for once I’d like to face just one threat at a time before another one decided to say ‘hey over here, look at me!’ So, do me a favor, think now, and vampsplain it to me later. What do we do?”
“They might suspect you’re an important fae of some sort, since I’m with you, and they’re just curious.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Then again, they may know exactly who you are.” Fists clenched, and muscles straining against his tight shirt, Bean prepared for an unwelcome fight. But for all his vampire strength and mass, he sounded worried. He cursed something under his breath that was likely in his fae master’s native tongue before choosing to speak to Chloe again. “Especially after giving that Romani woman a fae weapon and carrying around the Horseman of War’s sword so casually like it’s a phone instead of concealing it like it should be!” He chastised.
“Possible kidnapping? Maybe worse?” She deducted. “Okay, that would be bad.” The Vega pack had tripled in numbers since she’d spoken with the Romani woman.
“There’s too many of them. We should...” Bean’s voice trailed off just as the hairs on the back of Chloe’s neck stood on end.
A deep husky voice boomed from right behind them. “Leaving so soon?”
5
Skin Deep
The iron walls of the funny little box closed in and the dragon lost his connection to the human girl who wielded the sword. Only echoes of voices and emotions resonated against the metal, down through the entombed pommel, and back to him. He would have his way with her again, he was sure of it. He’d felt her anger and rage toward the one he now held captive in the darkest crevices of his mind. Her lover cowered there, afraid to remember what he’d done, who he’d sacrificed, and best yet, who he’d killed. The dragon had savored it all. His captive’s vulnerability empowered him. Yet, for now, he would let the other pull him under, back into sleep, gathering his strength to call to her again. He would feed on her meat and marrow and watch as his other lost the last bit of himself forever.
No! Bram’s voice strained to surface in the beast’s mind. I won’t let you hurt her!
Knowing the other’s threat was finite and fading, the dragon laughed. His boisterous vibrations thundered over the winds and volcanic eruptions outside. He took pleasure in using the man’s words against him now as he felt the light dimming from Bram. We’ll see.
“Primus, stop! Where are you going?” Famke
waited until Avery and Mortimer had left the meadow before hurrying after her brother.
“The less you know the better. But I think you know exactly where I’m going.” He refused to stop walking.
“You can’t!” Her words were desperate and worried. The dual heartbeats within her chest and heart-stone both quickened.
“Watch me!”
“Primus, please.” But she knew her brother had made up his mind.
“Go home, Famke!” Reaching the edge of their city, Primus altered his glamour and disappeared into the crowd. Looking back through a stranger’s face, he watched as she scoured the crowd for him in vain. She looked heartbroken, perhaps foreseeing the treasonous path she knew he was about to go down. She would not follow. He knew Famke. She didn’t care for the humans or the vampires, and thought them beneath her.
He altered his face again, moved deeper into the bustling city, and left his sister behind.
Reaching the towering line of great oaks, Primus placed a rare golden seed into one of the dryad’s hands, hoping the nymph would find her way to forgetting she ever saw him. He slipped into the crevice within the closest tree and entered the earthen realm.
Primus scoured the medieval European countryside, stepping over countless steaming piles of manure. Chickens and goats scurried about being chased by dirty faced children in muddy rags. He searched every Inn, stable, hovel, and brothel until an all-too-familiar sound let him know he had come to his destination. He heard the ringing combination of screams and laughter unique to vampires gathering, coming to the human realm to feast and play.
The royal shoved his way into the crowded room and all laughter stopped. “Get your master.”
“A young royal here and with no guards?” One of the vampires veiled his threat with a slight bow. “State your business.”
“You’re all in danger. We don’t have time for this. Your master, now!”
The crowd remained defiantly silent, but parted as their leader slowly came forward.
“My Prince.” The master vampire bowed dramatically.
“Mordecai.”
The dragon’s golden eyes popped open and he shoved the dream down into the darkness in his mind alongside Bram. The beast felt the moment the sword was released from its iron tomb. When the girl gripped it in her hand and brought its fire, he laughed a low ominous rumble. My turn.
6
Stuck Between a Fae and a Hard Place
“Let go of me!” Chloe struggled against the werewolf holding her back. She was walled off from her dusk blood escort.
“A human in possession of fae weapons and you smell of Moirai deceit. Answers now!”
As soon as the husky voiced werewolf had confronted her and Bean, Rome’s streets became devoid of any human activity. The city’s regular citizens wanted no part of the supernatural fight they presumed was about to go down, especially as dozens of men with glowing blue eyes stared down any straggling onlookers.
“Let go of her!” Bean yelled. The wolf pack was circling and closing in on him fast. They jumped him all at once, piling on like frenzied piranha fighting for one scrap of meat.
“Bean!” All Chloe could see were bodies wrestling and tugging the massive vampire to the ground. By pure dumb luck and undeniable determination, she was able to wriggle her arm free and strike her captor in the throat with her elbow.
Drawing the Horseman sword, she called forth its fiery blade. She became consumed by rage. The murderous look in her eye, and the presence of the otherworldly weapon, must have caught her assailant off guard. He stared at the blade transfixed, his eyes wide and jaw slack. Hate drove Chloe forward and she took advantage of the werewolf’s shock. She slashed and stabbed the husky voiced man over and over until he fell to the ground, unmoving.
Chloe felt a rush of adrenaline and gripped the weapon tighter in her hand as it thrummed with energy. She looked down at it. The blade seemed pleased, savoring the kill. Bathing in the man’s blood, its craving had been unleashed, and it wanted more. It were as though Bram’s beast himself were wielding the weapon.
Rushing the jumble of bodies covering Bean, Chloe cut her way through, and tried to get to the mound’s center. But there were too many of them and she was only human. Like a bullet being shot from a gun, Chloe was sent flying through the air. Her body twisted and flipped like debris from an explosion before she landed several yards away. Her cheek scraped against a large chiseled stone as she pulled herself up off a heap of building debris. For some reason, her body resisted, so she pulled harder.
Standing upright, Chloe staggered a few steps and swayed back and forth. “What happen…” Her voice was labored and weak. Darkness threatened to strangle her vision. She gripped the Horseman pommel to her chest, wondering what had caused her to feel so strange all of a sudden.
Looking back at where she had landed, she saw a piece of rebar jutting out of the debris. The rusted piece of metal was coated in her blood, dripping onto the rubble. She looked down at her leg then. Her thigh was hemorrhaging blood as fast as water flowing through the nasoni fountains. Magically, she felt no pain and wondered how she wouldn’t have known her leg had been impaled. “Bean?” Chloe fell hard onto the concrete ground beneath her.
Straining to keep her eyes open, the last thing she saw was Bean fighting his way out from under the wolf pack, trying desperately to get to her.
“What happened?!” Mordecai demanded. He bolted through the Gothic archway as the red door appeared out of thin air. Not waiting for an answer, he whisked Chloe into his arms, and back into the safety of Crimson Hollow.
Mordecai was so warm. Chloe nestled into him and faded in and out of consciousness. She couldn’t remember how she and Bean had gotten back to the vampire stronghold. Had he carried her from the Colosseum? Was he still alive?
“Vega pack. We got ambushed.” Bean said between labored breaths.
He was standing somewhere Chloe couldn’t see. She was relieved to know he was alive.
Mordecai looked down at Chloe’s leg and cringed. He whipped his head in the direction of the Moirai sisters. “How long until you have the portal to the Spree open?”
“Not until the moon rises.”
“It’s a delicate spell.”
“And can’t be rushed.” The triplets answered. All the teasing and taunting in their voices from early had gone.
“She doesn’t have that much time!” Mordecai placed Chloe on one of the sofas and put pressure on her femoral artery.
She screamed out in pain.
“So. Much. Blood.” For a brief moment Mordecai seemed mesmerized by the pooling red liquid all around her, as if it were macabre red wings, and she were its angel. Chloe swore she even saw his fangs appear for a moment before he composed himself and retracted them. “Bean!” He ripped the Horseman pommel from Chloe’s death grip. “Get this under iron and key.” The master vampire’s demanding voice left no room for objections.
“Yes, boss.”
“I’ll deal with you later. Now get out of my sight.” Mordecai threatened his dusk blood bartender. “Everyone out!”
Bean’s posture slumped. “Yes, boss.” He took the weapon and ushered everyone out of the grand room.
“You, stay.” The master vampire looked to one of the Moirai sisters now dressed in all red. The blood-red color was a bright contrast to her siblings’ still stark white clothing.
She nodded obediently and her sisters left with all the others.
“Not Bean’s fault.” Chloe was able to mutter.
“Don’t care.” Mordecai ignored her.
Darkness started closing in on her again and she felt like she was floating in a bath of ice cold water. “So cold.”
“That’s because all the blood is rushing out of your body.” Mordecai yanked his jacket off and rolled up his sleeve. “Hold her down!” He motioned to the Moirai sister and she complied.
She was so strong. Chloe expected her to have used magic to restrain her, but she didn’t. She used the
brute force of a vampire.
“No.” Chloe pleaded. Even in her semi-conscious state, she knew what Mordecai was about to do.
“You’re dying, Chloe...I have no choice. I’m sorry.” He bit down on his wrist and held it out to her.
The edges of Chloe’s vision darkened once more, but this time she didn’t have the strength to fight it. Then, everything turned black as warm metallic liquid filled her mouth and slid down her throat.
7
Bring Out Your Dead
Chloe bolted upright and gasped for air. “You bastar--” But she couldn’t get the word out. She should be dead. No one could survive losing so much blood. Realization hit her. Mordecai had healed her, turned her, and she hated him for it.
Mordecai laughed, still seated beside her in the drying blood surrounding them. “I’ve heard fledglings find it difficult to speak ill of their sires, but never one so bold to attempt such defiance face to face with their master.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she touched the foreign fangs protruding from her mouth. “Fuck…”
“You get used to them.” He interrupted.
Her eyes narrowed even further as she stared Mordecai down, and was able to resist her vampire sire. “You!”
He laughed. “A rebel ‘till the end.” Inhaling her defiance, his eyes glistened. “You’re intoxicating, Chloe Etain.”
As Mordecai admired his newest conquest, everything in Crimson Hollow began to vibrate. Chandeliers and beaded curtains swayed as fae vampires, dusk bloods, and concubines alike cowered in the darkest corners. The expansive wall of stone was grinding together, sending sand and shards of rock to the pristine marble floor below, and the red doors bowed in and out like a storm was brewing outside.
