by Laura Hysell
I walked around the room, kicking blankets and discarded clothes across the floor as I searched for something. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, but the feeling was there that I needed to keep looking. Then I saw it. The knife flickered, like a diamond in the darkness. My weapon. I knelt on the floor and dislodged the knife from underneath my bed. A huge weight lifted off me as I held the knife in my hands. I stood up and strapped the knife to my right side, where it pulsed warmly against my thigh. I closed my eyes and relished in the feeling of completeness the knife suddenly brought me.
“Queen Isabella,” a soft voice said. The young woman curtsied in the doorway, her eyes meekly downcast. “King Donovan asked me to help you get ready.”
“King Donovan? Oh, yes, Henri,” I murmured, moving toward the young woman. “Yes, I’d better get ready.”
I had met this woman before, but my thoughts were a jumble. She shuffled me toward the bathroom and sat me down before the large mirror, before she began pulling my hair up. I stared at my reflection, wondering who the woman staring back at me was. My skin was pale, and my hair had grown out considerably. The soft black hair now rested several inches past my shoulders.
“My hair is still black,” I stated softly.
“Yes, Queen Isabella. We dye your hair weekly.”
“I don’t want it black,” I said, and the woman’s hands stopped moving. I looked at the woman’s reflection in the mirror, taking in her wide, fearful eyes. “What?”
“Nothing, my Queen.”
“Tell me,” I ordered, and flinched at the fear on the woman’s face.
Her hands shook where they still held my black dyed hair. She was somewhere in her forties, with sandy brown hair pulled back in a tight bun. “King Donovan said you want black hair. You agreed just yesterday, Queen Isabella.”
“Of course,” I murmured, vaguely recalling the conversation she was talking about. “How long have I been here?” I asked, changing the conversation.
“I’m not sure, my Queen. I’ve been here three months, and you were here before I arrived.”
Three months? How could I have been here for three months? Hadn’t it just been a few days? And why did she keep calling me Queen? Henri called me his queen, but that didn’t mean I was an actual Queen. And when had Henri become a king? I sat in silence while the woman curled my hair and styled it. She took her time applying my makeup, but I was lost in thought and didn’t pay much attention. Something was very wrong, but I couldn’t figure it out.
As soon as the woman was done with my hair and makeup, I dismissed her and sat staring at my reflection. The woman looking back at me looked nothing like I remembered. My hair was curled into deep, black tresses, piled intricately atop my head. My blue eyes stood in bright contrast to the smoky eye makeup. I touched my face, thinking it looked even paler than I had remembered; almost white. My body felt leaner and not soft as I had remembered, as though I had lost weight. My mind though, that was something that deeply troubled me. I felt lost, adrift on a sea of confusion and scattered memories.
The knife pulsed, and I reached a hand down to stroke the handle. I had taken it off at some point, and deep down I knew that had been a mistake. The knife pulsed again, and I pulled it from the sheath to hold it before me. I had never really taken the time to look at it in detail. It had always just been there before. Now I stared at the sharp blade, and I could see fine lines etched along the metal when I turned the knife toward the light. The markings were faint, and I couldn’t make out the design.
I ran a finger across the markings and closed my eyes, feeling the throbbing of the knife coming from those markings. Magic. The word floated into my mind like a whisper on the wind, but it felt right. My eyes were still shut when I closed my fist around the knife, letting the knife bite deeply into my flesh. The knife was sharp, and drew blood effortlessly, yet there was little pain.
There you are, a voice echoed in my mind, and I knew it had come from the knife. I opened my eyes and unclenched my fist, revealing unblemished skin. The markings on the knife glistened with red briefly before the blood vanished into the knife. We are one.
What does that mean? I asked.
“Isabella,” Henri called, and I quickly sheathed the knife before turning toward the door.
“Coming,” I replied, as I hurried to meet Henri in the living area.
He looked as handsome as ever, and glowed with that eerie golden light he sometimes seemed to radiate. I smiled and walked toward him, my mind feeling as though it were being encased in a fog. Henri eyed me up and down, taking in the form-fitting dress with desire clearly etched on his face. As soon as I was within reach, he snaked an arm around my waist and drew me toward him. I turned my face upward toward his, waiting for a kiss. He grinned and kissed me, while one hand moved up my thigh and underneath my dress to grasp my butt firmly. Memories of the past few months raced across my mind, but all I recalled was a blur of naked bodies. Had I done anything the last few months except have sex?
Henri pulled back from the kiss to look at me with an eyebrow raised. “You’re not wearing anything under the dress,” he commented, as his hand moved between my legs exploratorily.
“You didn’t tell me to wear anything under the dress,” I replied softly, the words coming too easily to my lips. Was I actually flirting with him? I was, and it was far too easy.
“Except the weapons,” he murmured, pointing at the gun on my ankle.
I laughed and wiggled my ankle, feeling the odd weight on my foot. “I do like the feel of the weapons.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes,” I whispered as I ran my hands across his chest. The movement was something I’d done a hundred times. “It’s kind of sexy.”
Henri laughed loudly at that as he pulled my body close to his. “Oh, my Queen, you are devilish. You are definitely ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For tonight, of course. I have quite an event planned,” Henri replied as he stopped and pushed me gently away. He turned and picked up a full-length fur coat, which he held out for me. I slipped my arms into the coat, marveling at the beautiful shades of black and tan mixed in the fur. It was surely a real fur coat. I doubted Henri cared what PETA thought.
Henri took my arm and led me out the front door toward the elevator. We stepped inside and Henri pushed the button for the first floor. He turned toward me and pulled the edges of my coat closed. “We’re very far north, and it is still very cold outside for a human. Keep the coat closed until we reach our location.”
I nodded and latched the delicate hidden hooks of the coat. “What kind of fur is this?”
“Werewolf,” Henri replied.
The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, shocking me to my core. I willed my hands to continue buttoning the coat, even though I wanted nothing more to do with it. Don’t think about it, the voice came to my mind. The knife pulsed in agreement, and I finished buttoning the coat before looking up at Henri.
The vampire was staring at me, and I worried he could read the sudden turmoil on my face, or in my mind. “How?” I asked, trying to put a curious look on my face. “Do werewolves stay in wolf form after they die? I thought they turned back human.”
“Ah, you caught me,” Henri replied, grinning suddenly. “You are correct. When a werewolf dies, he turns back into a man.”
I felt a surge of relief, but tried not to let it show as I cocked my head at the vampire. “So, this isn’t really from a werewolf? Just a regular wolf?”
“Oh, no, it’s from a werewolf. Several, actually. They just weren’t dead when we skinned them,” Henri replied matter-of-factly, as though he were speaking of the weather.
I felt like I was going to throw up, but I managed to plaster a blank look on my face. The fog in my brain enveloped me further, and I found a part of me that didn’t care about the werewolves who died for this coat. That was the part I needed to play right now. Survival came first, and I desperately needed Henri to believe he had
complete control over me still.
The elevator opened, and I was thankful to leave the careful scrutiny of the vampire. Henri had a wide grin on his face as took my arm as he led me through the foyer filled with vampires. There were hundreds of them, milling about in fine clothes and jewels. Henri strolled through the room with me on his arm like a trophy, while I smiled and nodded to vampires politely. The knife was a quiet warmth on my side; tethering me to reality.
We should kill them all, the knife said suddenly as I found myself surrounded by vampires fawning all over Henri.
They’d kill me before I had a chance, I responded. There was no answer, and I wondered if perhaps I wasn’t going mad. Was I really trying to talk to a knife? Maybe I was going crazy. Insanity didn’t sound too bad, considering the company I was in.
Henri led me through the room to the front doors, and the vampires followed us. The air was bitingly cold outside, and I found myself feeling thankful for the coat. Then, I immediately felt guilty for the thought. Several werewolves had died to bring me warmth. No, I amended the thought; several men had died for this coat. Did I know any of them?
My thoughts turned dark, as I began worrying about Mark, Jared, and the Pack. Don’t think about them. Not now, the voice chided.
I pulled my thoughts away from the wolves as Henri led me toward a limo parked in the street. A man opened the door for us, and I slid in, with Henri right behind me. The limo ride was short, but it was better than walking in heels through slushy streets wearing a werewolf fur coat. The vampires had raced ahead of us, and now stood waiting for us as we came to a stop.
The building we stopped at was a large, old building that had probably had a dozen uses in its lifetime. Henri led me toward the front door and immediately up a flight of stairs to the right. The top floor was carpeted in thick, red carpet that my heels sank into. We walked through a narrow hallway, until we came to a grouping of plush chairs set in a balcony overlooking what had likely once been a theater stage. The stage and all lower level seating was gone, and now there was a large, circular sand pit.
I looked around the circular room, taking note of the other vampires seated at similar balconies. Our spot sat above the others in the middle, so that everyone’s eyes in the room would be turned toward us. Those who weren’t privileged enough to have a balcony were seated across the room in stadium style seating. The room was packed with vamps, and I estimated there were easily 100 in the lower levels alone. Our balcony was connected to the others through a narrow passageway around the room. Henri led me to the front of the balcony, where we were easily seen by everyone in the room.
“After I remove your coat, they will start making their way to meet you formally. Stay by my side always. Drink nothing they offer, and be on your guard,” Henri warned in a fierce whisper as he began unbuttoning my coat. “When I take my seat, everyone will retire to their own seats and the show will begin.”
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered softly.
“I am King, and you are my wife. That makes you Queen. Remember that,” Henri responded, and my heart fluttered erratically at his words. “Trust no one, but with any luck you won’t need the weapons you carry. When in doubt, do what I do.”
Henri pulled the coat from my shoulders, and I had no time to think more on his words and what memories I was missing from the past three and a half months. Men and women eagerly stepped onto the balcony, vying for the opportunity to kiss my hand. After the first vampire tried to take a bite from my wrist, I kept my hands wrapped tightly around Henri’s arm.
I met dozens of vamps claiming they were directly part of Henri’s bloodline, as though I cared. After meeting half the room, Henri finally dismissed them and stated the show was about to begin. They hadn’t really been interested in me at all, which worked out fine for me. My mind was a whirl of questions that I didn’t have time to ponder. We took our seats and the lights dimmed around the room until the only thing lit was the sand pit below us.
A man stepped out into the middle of the arena, dressed in a bright blue jacket studded with gold and jewels that sparkled as the light hit them. He held his hands up, which were also covered in jewels, and the theater went silent. “Behold, our mighty King!” he bellowed, and a light shone suddenly on Henri.
Henri stood and waved his hand. He was greeted with an overwhelming cacophony of cheers. When the room died down, the man on the floor spoke again. “Behold, our beautiful Queen!” Cheers resounded throughout the vast arena, and I found myself at the center of a spotlight. Henri held his hand out to me, and I took it, stepping forward until I was beside him.
The light on us dimmed down and we returned to our seats as the vampire continued. “Let us give thanks to our King and Queen for the bounties we now have. Before, we were starving, wasting away. Now, blood runs free as a river. Before, we had no place. Now, we have a home with a mighty army behind us. Before, we were lost and alone. Now, we are strong! We are powerful! And we will crush Petrivian with the might of our army!”
The cheers of the vampires were deafening, punctuated by the stamping of hundreds of feet. I didn’t like the sound of any of this, except maybe the part about crushing Petrivian. I definitely liked that part. Henri smiled at me, relishing his role as King.
“Who wants to see the might of our army?” the man cried out.
The shouts and roars of the vampires were overwhelming, and I had to resist the urge to cover my ears. The man stepped back out of the light, and two men emerged from either side of the room. Both men moved uneasily toward each other, dressed in simple loin cloths and nothing else. Their skin was oiled and glistened in the light. The man on the right was tall and darkly tanned, with a shaved head. The man on the left was shorter, but just as muscular, with thick hair across his chest. Both were most definitely human.
The men circled each other for several minutes, before the taller man finally lashed out with a high kick at the other man’s head. The hairy man ducked out of the way, but still took a kick to the shoulder. After that, the two men attacked each other with ferocity. Fists and arms flew at each other, and blood covered the sand.
I watched because I was expected to watch, and I tried not to flinch when the sound of breaking bones echoed through the room. The taller man finally knocked the other man unconscious, and the announcer stepped into the middle of the arena. “We have our winner!” he declared loudly, and the taller man raised his arms in triumph. The unconscious man was drug away, and the winner walked back out of sight.
Another pair of men entered the area, and a new fight began. “What happens to the loser?” I asked Henri softly.
“He will fight on the frontlines,” Henri responded.
“What about the winner?” I asked.
“For the human battles, the winner will be given the opportunity to join our ranks,” Henri replied. “These men all volunteered for this opportunity. To join us as vampires is their ultimate goal. We will make this happen for a select few. Those who prove themselves are rewarded.”
I nodded and continued to watch the spectacle uneasily. No one had died, which I found refreshing and unnerving at the same time. I couldn’t help but wonder what was really happening behind the scenes. Three pairs of humans battled, and the crowd began to grow restless. The announcer stepped into the arena and raised his arms.
“What frail lives these humans lead! What about the werewolves? Who wants to see a werewolf?” he shouted, and the crowd went wild.
I sat forward, on the edge of my seat as two men entered the ring, dressed in only loin clothes. I didn’t know either of them, but I watched in fascination as they battled first as men, grappling and wrestling with a fierceness that was surprising to behold. The taller of the two men tackled the other two the ground, holding his arm behind his back until it snapped. The broken arm triggered the change, and the two men began turning into their wolf forms. As wolves, the two fought even more viciously, and when the battle was done only one was still alive. The other, his thro
at ripped from his body, turned back into human form.
The dead man was pulled from the arena as the winner loped after him. The announcer stepped forward again, and several men stepped out from either side of the ring. The men were muscular and bare-chested, dressed in simple loin clothes like all the fighters before them. My heart jumped in my chest as I saw a familiar face. “We have seen the wolves fight, and we all know their strength. But we haven’t seen a wolf fight a vampire!” the announcer shouted. Silence greeted his words, and the announcer looked around worriedly. His eyes sought out Henri, who nodded his head to continue. “Bring out the traitor!”
Several vampires pushed a black leather-clad man before them. The man they led was young looking and handsome, with spiked black hair and a distinct air of arrogance about him. The man glared up at Henri with a contemptuous look on face. The announcer stepped backward quickly out of sight, but his voice could still be heard. “Garrett, you are charged with treason. If you defeat these werewolves, you may keep your life. Thus is the ruling of his majesty, King Henri Donovan.”
Garrett spat on the ground and glared up at Henri. “A self-proclaimed king is not a true king.”
“Fight or die, Garrett,” Henri said calmly, his voice carrying surprisingly loudly through the chamber.
Garrett spun with amazing speed, tearing the heart from the first werewolf before I had time to register what was happening. He spun again, and the werewolves separated, charging at him from opposite sides. Two of the werewolves had already begun changing into their wolf forms, but Garrett got to one of them mid-change and tore the man’s head from his chest. The other men circled, diving in to attack the vampire together.
