Marsias smiled. “I look forward to impressing you, princess.”
She’d arched one of her dark, perfect eyebrows. “That’s not easily accomplished.”
“Challenge accepted,” he said, lifting his own brow.
Her response was another brilliant laugh, causing his heart to pound in his chest. Vowing to claim her, to win her, he got to work.
Their courtship was encompassing. Filled with laughter and joy, frustration and tribulation. For Rina was her own woman. She knew what she wanted and pushed Marsias to be better, to give her more than he’d ever known he could give.
She’d made him a better person and he’d loved her mindlessly.
They married in a beautiful ceremony, flowers swirling around them as they dropped from the altar under which they stood. The sun shone bright in the sky and the Slayers rejoiced. Valktor had shaken his hand, sadness in his eyes, and made Marsias promise to protect his daughter with his life. It was a promise that he took very seriously.
Their marriage was amazing and intense. Rina was a force to be reckoned with, exhibiting a stubborn streak and an annoying habit of always thinking she was right. Her nature was also quite reckless and Marsias would scold her when he found her swimming too close to the rapids in the river or riding her horse outside the compound’s walls.
But she was also the most amazing person he’d ever met. Her beauty was ethereal and her heart was full of compassion and love. She spent her days doing her best to improve her peoples’ lives. At night, when he would hold her, he would pray to Etherya, thanking her for his breathtaking wife.
After a while, a kernel of fear began to grow in his gut. Happiness, like he’d never even dreamed, had pervaded his world. What if something happened to her? How would he go on? In the dimness of their bedchamber she would hold him and tell him not to worry. Promises of forever fell from her lips as he loved her, always needing more, telling himself not to ruin their joy.
When she got pregnant he thought his heart might burst. Seeing her round with his child was a fantasy come true. She would laugh in her melodic way when he placed his ear on her stomach to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.
Their daughter, Miranda, was born on a sunny day, like most were on Etherya’s Earth. As Marsias held the tiny creature in his arms, he’d looked into her stunning green eyes and promised to love her as best he could. And yet, he was quite afraid, for his love for Rina was so consuming it absorbed most of his energy. He hoped he could find room in his heart to love his little girl, too.
He did grow to love Miranda, always enjoying their tea parties and times when she would sit on his lap and look up at him with adoration shining in her eyes. But he would’ve been lying if he didn’t admit that time spent with his daughter was bided time, spent so that he could be in Rina’s presence once more.
When Miranda turned eight years old, they threw her a grand birthday party. Marsias had smiled broadly at his two girls as they sat at the head table, both mirror images of each other. A few days later, Rina had saddled her horse for a ride.
“I don’t want you to go out today. I think it’s going to rain,” Marsias said.
“I’ll be fine, darling,” Rina said, patting his cheek. “I like the rain. Please don’t worry about me. Miranda will be home from school soon. Make sure you hug her when she comes in the door. Sometimes I worry that you don’t even see her when she comes home. She’s always so excited to see her daddy.”
“I see her,” he said, pulling her in for a hug. “How could I not? She looks just like my beautiful wife.” He gave her a pec on her pink lips.
“I love you, Marsias. Let’s take a trip soon. Maybe to Astaria. We haven’t seen Markdor and Calla for a while. It’s time that Miranda formally meet Sathan and Latimus.”
“I agree. Maybe next month.”
She’d given him that gorgeous smile and ridden away as the clouds gathered above. Marsias had returned to the castle, frowning as he stepped inside and realized he hadn’t told her he loved her back. She knew, of course, but he wished he’d said the words. Promising himself he would tell her ten extra times that evening, he went to his study to do some paperwork for the council.
Sadly, Rina never returned. Valktor had gone mad, unable to live with his daughter’s disappearance, and after killing Markdor and Calla he’d burned himself to death in the Purges of Methesda. Miranda, the next in line to the throne, was deemed too young to ascend. Marsias, as Rina’s husband, assumed the throne in her stead.
For a thousand years he struggled to avenge his wife. Hatred for the Deamons and the Vampyres consumed him. Vowing to never rest until the last Vampyre took his breath and until Crimeous perished by Miranda’s heir, he felt himself going quite mad.
Miranda was a nuisance to him. He hated to admit it, but it was the truth. Without Rina around to temper him, he grew angry with her when she tried to connect with him. She brought out an intense frustration in him that he couldn’t seem to squelch. Couldn’t she understand that his sole focus should be killing their greatest enemies? Anything else was futile and useless.
Eventually, she left him alone. Kenden seemed to love her in a way he couldn’t and he took solace in that. Her one purpose was to have an heir and ensure that he fulfilled the prophecy and killed Crimeous. It was imperative that he push her toward that goal.
And now look where it had gotten him. He and his daughter were so distant they might as well live on separate islands upon Etherya’s Earth. Sighing, Marsias ran his hands over his face as he sat at the mahogany desk in his office. It had all gone so wrong.
Pulling the top drawer of his desk open, he picked up the picture of Rina that sat there. An artist had drawn it when she was pregnant with Miranda. Hope glowed in her almond-shaped green eyes and her smile was bright.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered, rubbing the picture with the pad of his thumb. “I’ve let you down terribly. I hope you can forgive me.”
Tears welled in his eyes and he felt the familiar emptiness inside. It seemed to pervade every aspect of his life. Once he killed the last Vampyre and ensured Crimeous’ death, he was sure it would abate. Those were his goals and he wouldn’t let anyone obstruct them. Even his own daughter.
Placing the picture back inside the drawer, he closed it and latched onto his hate. It was always there and that was comforting. His rage never left him, as Rina had. As long as he had it, he felt he could survive. Resolved, he decided to have a glass of Scotch before heading to bed for another night where he would get no sleep.
* * * *
It turned out that transporting a six-foot tall Vampyre princess was no easy task, as Miranda found that out the hard way. After making her way down to Sadie’s infirmary, she had asked the doctor to prepare a syringe with enough force to knock the woman out for several hours. Then Miranda sat her down to explain her plan in detail. She informed Sadie that she needed her to come along to ensure the Vampyre stayed healthy and strong. Appealing to the doctor’s Hippocratic oath was a bit of an underhanded tactic but Miranda knew it would work. Sadie had reluctantly agreed. And just like that, Miranda thought, another person had been dragged into this mess she had created.
They had gone to the windowless room where the woman was being kept and Sadie had injected the entire syringe into her arm. After unbinding her, Miranda worked furiously to load the Vampyre onto the stretcher she had wheeled up from the infirmary. Her five-foot, six-inch frame was barely up to the task.
They had wheeled the unconscious woman to the black SUV Hummer and deposited her in the large trunk. Sadie had climbed in back with her to monitor her vitals.
Two Slayer soldiers appeared, informing Miranda that they had been tasked with protecting her and her captive on their journey. One of them handed her a note from Kenden:
Randi: Blane and Zander will accompany you. They are at your command and will guard the woman while you journey with the Vampyre king. They will hold her at the abandoned cabin near the juncture of the River Tha
yne and Astaria. Your father is furious but I will take care of him. He is choosing to let the kingdom believe you are vacationing at Restia. Please be safe and smart. I love you and have always believed in you. Ken
Reveling in her love for her cousin, she held the note to her chest and said a silent thank you to him. And then it was time to get moving.
Miranda drove along the unpaved gravel road that ran parallel to the river. As she passed the spot where she and Kenden had buried the pieces of her mother she said a quiet prayer.
Mother, please send me the strength to help our people. I need you more than ever.
She could have sworn she felt a gentle caress on her arm. Or was she simply going crazy? Doubt crept in as she drove along. Did she really think she was going to negotiate her people’s future with the unconscious Vampyre in the back seat? Without the help of her father? Good god, she really was insane.
Realizing that self-doubt did her no good here, she drove to the part of the river where the tall stone wall stood. The Wall of Astaria was said to be blessed by Etherya herself. No one could get in or out of the compound due to its protection.
“Well, here we go,” she said to herself, a sort of impromptu pep talk. “You can do this, Miranda.”
Exiting the car, she walked to the back and opened the trunk door. “Make sure her wrists and ankles are bound and then bring her to consciousness,” she said to Sadie.
Nodding from under her hoodie, the doctor complied.
Ten minutes later, the groggy Vampyre lifted her head.
“You’ll want to stay in the car since it’s still light out,” Miranda warned. “Sundown won’t come for another thirty minutes at least.”
Miranda reached into the pocket of her camouflage pants and pulled out a cell phone. “I took this from you while you were out. I’m going to call your brother with it. He’ll want proof that you’re alive. I also have two armed soldiers standing five feet from us. Don’t do anything stupid, understand?”
The Vampyre woman nodded. She seemed resigned to the fact that she had no hand to play in this situation.
“Password?” Miranda asked.
“3987,” the woman replied.
Miranda entered the code and brought up the contacts list. It was listed there plain as day: Sathan. With her heart pounding in her chest and her mind struggling to keep her shaking hands at bay, she hit the call button.
After three rings she heard her greatest enemy’s deep voice.
“Arderin? Where are you? We’ve been looking for you for three nights!”
Miranda stood frozen, her insides locked in battle: confidence in her cause verses self-doubt.
“Arderin?” the deep voice said through the phone.
The Vampyre began screaming from the SUV. “Sathan! Sathan! She has me!”
Miranda gave a quick nod to Sadie and the doctor immediately placed a large piece of duct tape over the woman’s mouth.
Inhaling deeply, Miranda calmed herself and proceeded.
Lifting the phone to her ear, she said, “As you can hear, I have your sister.”
The man began cursing, threatening her through the phone.
“I would stay calm if I was you,” she said, her tone firm. “I have no wish to kill her but if you anger me I won’t have a choice.”
Silence. And then, “What do you want?”
“Meet me at the intersection of the Wall of Astaria and the River Thayne. Come alone. If I see anyone else with you I will kill her. I have an eight-shooter trained on her heart at this very moment.”
The Vampyre king’s wrath was almost palpable through the phone.
“Don’t harm her. I’ll do as you wish. Give me an hour.”
“Thirty minutes,” Miranda said, unwilling to let him dictate any part of this negotiation. “Or she’s dead.”
“Understood.” The line went dead.
Miranda let out a long exhale. Looking at the women in the back of the SUV, she allowed herself a shaky breath. Well, Randi, you’ve stepped in it now. Better be able to finish it.
Walking to the passenger side she began preparing the eight-shooters for her meeting with the Vampyre king.
* * * *
“You have to let me come with you, Sathan,” Latimus said. “I won’t let you go alone to be slaughtered.”
“She said to come alone and so I will,” Sathan replied, his tone firm. “Arderin is still alive which means that the woman who’s holding her hostage must want something from me. I’m not taking any chances with her life.”
“Let us come to the edge of the wall with you at least,” his younger brother Heden said. “We can’t let our king go alone into a hostage negotiation.”
Sathan nodded. “Okay, you and Latimus can come with me to the edge of the wall, but no further.” He lifted his finger, pointing back and forth between them. “Understood?”
“She’s our sister too, Sathan. It’s ridiculous to suggest that you’re the only one who can help rescue her.”
“I’m the one the abductor called. I see no reason to put you both in danger.”
“Bullshit. I could take her out with one shot from atop the wall,” Latimus said.
“Enough,” Sathan said, feeling drained. “I haven’t slept in three fucking days and I don’t want to argue with either of you. You’ll come with me to the wall and that’s it.”
Heden approached him and held out his hand. A small, black device sat in his palm. “This is a transmitter. It will allow us to hear you. Latimus and I will breach the wall if we feel that you’re in danger. You can ask us not to but you know that we will.”
Sathan smiled at his little brother, his heart swelling a bit in his chest. Heden was youngest of his siblings and had only been a toddler during the Awakening. He had never lived in a world that was at peace and yet had grown up to be the most light-hearted member of the royal family. Possessing a kind disposition, he was always ready to crack a joke if the mood was too heavy.
Latimus, who was deathly serious, often mocked Heden for his carefree attitude. Heden would just smile and pat his brother on the back and tell him to go chug a beer. Or get laid. Sathan admired his happy-go-lucky attitude in their imperfect world.
“Thanks,” he said, lifting up the tiny device. “Where do I put it?”
“That’s what she said?” Heden laughed.
“For the sake of the goddess, Heden, now is not the time to joke,” Latimus said. “Arderin is being held hostage and our idiot brother thinks he can save the world all by himself.”
“Relax, Latimus. I won’t do anything stupid. I fully trust in all of the training I’ve received as part of your army.”
“Oh and don’t call your king stupid,” Heden chimed in. “The penalty for that is five years in the dungeon.”
“You’re both ridiculous,” Latimus said angrily. “I don’t have time for this shit. You can find me in the barracks when you’re ready to deploy.” He stalked out of the room.
“Well, he’s a riot as always,” Heden said with a roll of his eyes. “Give me five minutes and then I’ll meet you in the barracks. You want to take the Hummer?”
Sathan nodded.
“Put the transmitter in your pocket. I’ve accounted for sound muffling so we should still be able to hear you loud and clear.”
“Okay,” Sathan said, placing the tiny device in the pocket of his black army pants. Besides being the much-needed comic relief on the compound, Heden was also a whiz at technology. Sathan was thankful that someone in the royal family had that ability, as he and Latimus were soldiers and at a loss when it came to anything to do with technology.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll see you in ten.”
With a nod, Heden exited the room. Sathan ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. It was time to get his sister back.
* * * *
Latimus muttered to himself as he stalked down the corridor to the barracks. His anger—and that alone—accounted for him almost plowing down Lila in the hallway.
<
br /> Hearing her breathy “oomph,” he grabbed her arms to stabilize her and then pulled his hands away as if they had been burned.
“Whoa, I didn’t see you,” she said, her voice soft and gentle as always. His stupid heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him and smiled. “Are you okay?”
Motherfucker. He was supposed to say something here, right? Yes, he was sure he should. But he couldn’t get his damn lips to move. How could anyone be expected to function with this woman staring up at them? White teeth framed by soft, pink lips…perfect upturned nose…lavender irises that seemed to glow in the dimness. Mentally shaking himself, he struggled to get away from her as soon as possible.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.” Brushing past her, he stalked away.
“Great,” he heard her say behind him. “Any word on Arderin?”
Refusing to answer, he continued to march to the barracks. He had no time to waste on this woman. This woman who belonged to another. This woman whom he had loved since he could remember what the word meant. This woman who was betrothed to his brother.
* * * *
Well, that was rude, Lila thought to herself as Latimus stalked off. But what did she expect, really? He had always been discourteous and impolite to her so why should tonight be any different?
She had always struggled to understand what she had done to him to make him dislike her so. Early on, when they had been children, she and Latimus had been great friends. She remembered laughing with him as they played alongside the riverbank. They had fought mock duels and captured toads in their makeshift containers. And then one day, when they had still been so young, he had just…stopped. Stopped talking to her. Stopped acknowledging her. Stopped seeing her.
When she was a baby, the goddess Etherya had declared her the betrothed of the future king, Sathan. As the daughter of the realm’s most distinguished diplomat and his wife, descended from a distant cousin of Markdor, her blood was the closest thing to royalty without being in the royal family. As a warrior, Latimus didn’t have much respect for blue-blooded aristocrats, whose lineage was seen as too valuable to be wasted on enlisting in the army. But she had always hoped that they could rekindle their friendship, as she would one day be married to his brother and bear his nieces and nephews.
The End of Hatred Page 5
