The King of Clubs 3

by Savannah Skye

  “Too late.”

  “You carried him out. You saved him.”

  “Did I?”

  Anthony’s life still hung in the balance. The doctors were making worried noises and saying little.

  “He couldn’t have just left when I told him to.” Connery ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair. “He’d better get through this so I can say I told you so.”

  I could only stare. I’d only known Anthony a short time but perhaps I was mourning what he represented. The VTs, and him especially, had seemed like hope. But if this was what the wraiths could do in our territory, what damage might they inflict in their own, protecting their master?

  Anthony had been overwhelmed by weight of numbers. They had clawed and bitten his body even as he had killed them. That was the thing you could never teach about fighting the wraiths; they never gave up. Anthony had learned the hard way; he had more cuts than anyone could count, his ribs were broken, there were internal injuries and he had lost so much blood.

  He was strong, he was a fighter. But he was not going to be fighting for a while. If ever again.

  “Well,” I finally spoke, talking to no one in particular, yet also addressing the group of VTs, Marco and Connery, who had assembled in the hospital, “this gives us one more reason to fight.”

  I saw the fists of Caldwell, Anthony’s second in command, tighten at my words. “Damn right.”

  With the King’s knowledge of Undercity, and the older caves that threaded it, staying down there seemed a risk too far. Truthfully, Topside was almost as vulnerable, because the rock beneath us was still undermined by those same tunnels. But with the Boy King’s help, we acquired a brand new property Topside as the temporary resistance headquarters. The fact that it was new, hopefully meant that no unforeseen hazards could worm their way in through cracks in the foundations and ancient cellars of long-forgotten buildings beneath.

  As a headquarters it was fine, but relocating to it cast a dark pall over the resistance. It symbolized failure. We had been driven out of our base – they had been driven out of the city they called home – by an enemy who had completely overpowered us. To make matters worse, we had lost people during the attack. Anthony’s life remained in the balance, but there were vampires we would never see again. It felt as if we had lost the fight before it had even started, and raising morale again seemed an impossibility. We were in hiding, in retreat, we were running scared.

  “What now?” asked Sharpe, who had taken the attack particularly hard, ashamed that he had been one of the first out of the building.

  “We keep training,” replied Katya.

  “My men are still keen to get at the enemy,” enthused Marco, who was the sort of person you wanted to have around during a morale crisis. “And they are enjoying being Topside and out in the sun. I think it does them good. And the human women of Topside London are as beautiful as the vampires of Undercity. Though none are as beautiful as Katya.”

  “Eat, drink and be merry?” I suggested, sardonically.

  Marco threw up his arms. “Bella Ursula; surely that is better than starving oneself and being miserable. That is when the enemy has really won.”

  It was a good attitude, but even Marco’s limitless bonhomie was not enough to sell me on it. I was starting to feel as if the King of Nightmares had already won. I found myself dwelling on what Jack had said. He had more experience than any of us and he had said this was impossible. Why hadn’t we listened? Maybe if we had then Anthony would not be in hospital and many good resistance fighters would not be dust in the wind.

  But what had the alternative been?

  It was fight or surrender. And it didn’t seem like the King of Nightmares was the type to accept surrender in accordance with the Geneva Convention.

  No; it was a choice of die or die, and we got to pick the way in which we died.

  There was a line in the film, The Lion in Winter – or at least a version of the line that gets misquoted a lot and I only knew the misquoted version – one character says ‘You fool! As if it matters how a man falls down’, and then the other says ‘When the fall’s all that’s left, it matters a great deal.’.

  I’m not a great one for quoting – or misquoting – films, but that one has always stuck with me. I don’t even know where I heard it but it had always stuck with me. Perhaps it was because I’d spent the better part of my life planning to die, because life had been cruel and I saw no desperate value in continuing it. But I still wanted that death to mean something. Now, somewhat late, I’d realized that life could be sweet. It could have love in it and meaning and purpose and love again for good measure. It was worth clinging to. But I wasn’t convinced that anything was going to allow me to cling to it.

  Watching the VTs train did little to raise my spirits.

  “Come on, my friends. Show me what you can do. Imagine the attacker is the husband of the woman you have been discovered in bed with – we have all been there, some of us many times. Show him why you are the better man.”

  Marco was working his ass off the only way he knew how to motivate the VTs, but the heart had gone out of them. That heart was lying in a hospital room, fighting for his life. The men he had left felt guilty that they had not stayed to fight with him – even though they had been following his orders – and his plight weighed on them.

  “They are heartsick,” admitted Marco, talking to me. I could tell that Marco was concerned because he didn’t mention how ‘ravishable’ I looked today or even stare at my breasts.

  “In the hospital, it seemed like revenge would motivate them.”

  “It does,” Marco acknowledged. “But revenge is a bitter motivator. Especially when you fear not claiming it.”

  It was not that the VTs thought they could not take the King of Nightmares. They feared they could not even reach him through the hordes of the Night Wraiths.

  “Could you ask Milan to send more?”

  Marco pulled a face. “Milan – the humans in Milan – are reluctant to lose more VTs. I fear that they, too, are losing confidence.”

  “And you?” I asked.

  Marco drew himself up. “Marco always has confidence.”

  I laughed. “Why? How the hell do you stay positive at a time like this?”

  “I shall tell you,” said Marco. “When I was in school, there was a certain teacher who, shall we say; fired my youthful desire. I see from your expression that you do not wish to know the details – which is a pity because they are as extraordinary as many a chapter from my remarkable sexual past – but the short version is; everyone said I would never have her. But I did. It took time; but I did. Since then, I have not feared the impossible. And if I do, then I remember that woman’s touch, and the fear is replaced by boldness. That is the essence of Marco.”

  It was the essence of Marco, for better or worse. And it did, at least, make me smile. But it would take more than Marco’s disturbing sexual recollections to make me believe in the impossible.

  “We need a way to use vampires, as well.”

  Marco frowned. “But the King?”

  I nodded. “I know. But we haven’t got enough Vamp Takers and you say we’re not going to get any more. I’m loath to bring more humans into this – that’d just be a blood bath. We need to find a way to make the vampires we have, count.”

  “Have you spoken to Katya of this?” Marco suggested. “That woman is as intelligent as she is sensual. Which is no small thing, as her sensuality surpasses…”

  “Thanks, Marco.”

  “Maybe.”

  By the time she said this single word, I had almost given up on Katya saying anything, as she had sat in complete silence for the past five minutes, staring into space as her mind turned over.

  “Really?”

  Katya pulled a face. “I don’t know enough about the King of Nightmares. I’ve read all I can find but most of it is heavy on words like ‘terrifying’ and ‘indomitable’ and light on actual information. But… well, one thing I’
ve noticed is that he does not seem to like losing a victim.”

  “Right.” I nodded, wishing once again that we could have convinced Jack to come back and help. After coming so close, being killed by him and then losing him for a second time, the King would have loved another chance at claiming that mind.

  “I wonder if,” Katya continued, “the chance at claiming a mind that he had lost might distract him for long enough that the resistance vampires could help with the first wave of Night Wraiths.”

  “Kill as many as possible then retreat before the King notices.”

  Katya nodded slowly. “The risks would be extraordinary. Anyone unable to get out in time would be killed by our own people.”

  “And the VTs would have to be ready to kill people they’d been training alongside.”

  Again, the slow nod. “We would have to be incredibly careful or it could go horribly wrong.”

  “But it might be worth it,” I acknowledged. “It wouldn’t have to be for long. The VTs move fast and we have a map of the catacombs – they know where they’re going. They don’t have to stop and kill every Night Wraith, they just need to cut a path straight through them. If they kill the King quickly, then the problem might not even come up.”

  “True.” The tone with which Katya spoke made me think there was something she wasn’t saying.

  “What is it?”

  Katya looked at me. “I don’t think you’ve realized who it would have to be, Ursula. There’s only one member of the resistance who had the King in his mind for long enough.”

  A cold tremor traveled down my back. Of course there was, and it was Connery.

  Chapter 16

  Needless to say that Connery volunteered instantly as soon as the plan was suggested. He had been morose since the wraiths attack, and the fact that he would be unable to help in our upcoming offensive had never sat well with him. Now, he was able to play a pivotal role, distracting the King while the VTs attacked, allowing vampires to join them, as well.

  “I reckon I’ll hold out longer than you might think,” he said with confidence. “I’m pretty scrappy.”

  “You know it’s coming, so that will give you some advantage,” said Katya. “I think.”

  I couldn’t pretend that I was happy. I had already been preparing for failure, but perhaps I had imagined that failure would not affect Connery and I. In some fluffy, rose-tinted dream, I imagined we could walk away afterwards and enjoy the rest of our life together.

  That had probably never been true, but now it seemed ridiculous.

  The news of the new plan had been greeted with optimism elsewhere in the new headquarters. People started to think we might win again. But I had never been so pessimistic.

  Now the plan was decided upon, the date for the big attack was fixed, and it arrived all too quickly for my liking.

  “Ursula?” Connery tracked me down when I was brooding, the evening before the day of the attack.

  “What’s up?”

  I assumed that he had come to tell me to cheer up and that he planned to survive this and it would all be alright. I was wrong.

  “I was wondering if you were free to have dinner with me? Maybe dancing? Or a movie, if you prefer?”

  I stared back at him, uncomprehending. “Are you… Are you asking me on a date?”

  “Yes, I am. And given our relationship, I’ll be very disappointed if you say no.”

  “You’re asking me on a date?” I repeated.

  “We’ve never been on one,” Connery pointed out.

  “Well, that’s true,” I admitted. “I’m just not convinced that now might be the best time.”

  Connery gave me a rueful smile. “Ursula, now might be the only time. We none of us know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But we still have control over what happens today. This is what I want to happen. The only question is; do you?”

  It had been a long time since I was out to dinner in Topside London, and I had not had dinner in a restaurant this nice since before the deaths of my parents. Connery was determined to make tonight special and I was determined to let him.

  “Since this is our first date, should we do some first date things?”

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

  “What sort of music do you like?”

  “I’m not that into music.”

  Connery rolled his eyes. “I have heard you singing along to The Rolling Stones and Led Zep. You rocked Whole Lotta Love.”

  I held up a finger. “Ah, but if this is our first date then you wouldn’t know that. And I might not admit that on a first date.”

  “I don’t see why not, those songs are classics.”

  “I always assume that vampires must like classical music – when they’re your age, I mean?”

  Connery looked shocked. “How old do you think I am? Go on, be honest.”

  “Two hundred.”

  “Really? I thought I didn’t look a day over one fifty.”

  “You have so much wisdom in your eyes.”

  He laughed. “So, I understand that you’re human? That’s fascinating. Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I was born one.”

  “Interesting, so was I.”

  “Something we have in common.”

  “Great, shall we talk about humanity or classic rock?”

  The wine arrived and we clinked our glasses together. Seeing him everyday, I sometimes worried that I forgot how handsome Connery was, but seeing him tonight, dressed to impress, his green eyes sparkling by the candlelight, I was reminded of how very lucky I was.

  “What do you do?” he asked.

  “I used to be a bounty hunter, but I’m between jobs, currently.”

  “Unemployed, huh?”

  “Yep. Living off the state. You?”

  “I’m a freedom fighter.”

  “Really?” I raised my eyebrows. “How dashing.”

  “I know. I try to be modest about it, but it isn’t easy.”

  “How is the freedom fighting going?”

  “Terrible. I’ll probably be dead by this time tomorrow.”

  I shouldn’t have laughed at something that had more than a kernel of truth to it, but I couldn’t help it, and he made me feel better about the whole dire thing than I had for weeks.

  “Is that the sort of thing you usually say on a first date?”

  Connery nodded. “Are you starting to understand why there’s so seldom a second?”

  “Very much. You seem a deeply flawed person.”

  “Oh no.” He shook his head. “And I thought it was going so well.”

  “Fortunately, you are very pretty,” I went on. “Not a thought in that sweet little head of yours, but what an ass.”

  “It’s gotten me out of many a parking ticket.”

  “I’d rather not know the details.”

  We giggled our way through the starters, and the main arrived.

  “What’s your biggest flaw?”

  “I’m stubborn,” I admitted. “Never know when to let go of something.”

  “I can see the positive side of that.”

  “You? Biggest flaw?”

  Connery swirled his wine around in the glass. “I guess you could say I’m prone to jealousy.”

  “What a shame.”

  “I know. But I do try to do my best to make it right after I’ve been a bit of a dick.”

  I smiled. “I think you’re probably very good at that.”

  He smiled back. “What’s your biggest regret?”

  I sighed. “I’m afraid I never put out on a first date.”

  Connery laughed loud enough that nearby tables started to stare at us. “That’s a shame, I thought I was onto a sure thing.”

  “Well, if you live through tomorrow, then do give me a call. On the second date, I’m almost embarrassingly easy.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes we don’t even get out of the car.”

  “Nice. That’s given me something to live for.�
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  “Me too.”

  As the evening floated on, a band set up at one end of a dance floor that had been cleared at the far end of the restaurant.

  “They don’t look like they’re going to play classic rock,” I noted.

  “No, probably something from my era,” said Connery.

  “Oh well, I guess we can dance to that.”

  “Are you a good dancer?”

  I shook my head. “Terrible. I mean, really, truly terrible. Almost dangerous, in fact. I never learned, you know? And the type of men I usually go out with don’t take me dancing.”

  “What type of men are those?”

  I shrugged. “The type you meet in a bar and hope the bathroom has a condom machine.”

  “Not romantics, then?”

  “No. Although, I have recently been seeing a man who takes me out to kill Night Wraiths.”

  Connery snapped his fingers in mock frustration. “Wish I’d thought of something that smooth. He sounds like a keeper.”

  “I don’t know. The sex is amazing but… actually, maybe he is a keeper.”

  “So are we dancing?” asked Connery.

  “Are you a good dancer?”

  Connery stood and held out his hand to me. “You are about to find out.”

  He was. In fact, he was such a good dancer that he almost made me look like one. With easy strength, Connery held me to him, lifting me so my feet barely touched the floor as we whirled. I allowed myself to be led, letting him control my body and take me where he needed me to be. He held me, he dipped me, he spun me out and drew me in again.

  “This feels like a fairytale,” I murmured, knowing that all too soon the clock would strike and we would both turn back into pumpkins. Metaphorically speaking.

  “Happily ever after,” Connery whispered back.

  And suddenly, because he said it, I felt as if it was possible. The situation hadn’t changed, the odds remained stacked against us, and the danger that this wonderful man was about to put himself in remained horrifying, but somehow it all seemed less important than it had a moment ago. Suddenly, it seemed as if the world had to be on our side because what else could it be? Fate would not let us be parted. We were simply too good together. Our dance wasn’t over yet.