Marsias came to a stop in front of her and exhaled a deep breath. “Thank you, Sadie. That will be all.”
“You’re welcome, your majesty,” she said, practically running from the room.
Once in her infirmary, she pulled out her cell to text Kenden.
Sadie: Marsias wants to find Miranda. Would he be crazy enough to attack Astaria? Hope u r ok.
Kenden hadn’t answered her texts in days. He’d called her on his way to the human world, informed her of his plan and sworn her to secrecy. Was it possible that Crimeous had another child? What if she was as evil as the Dark Lord himself?
Sighing, she checked on a few of her patients and began writing in their charts. As she worked, her mind wandered back to Marsias. She was becoming increasingly concerned that he was unhinged and would attack the Vampyre compound of Astaria. That would be a disaster, as his soldiers were no match for the Vampyre warriors.
After finishing her charts, she headed to her room and packed up her backpack. If she needed to flee the compound, she’d better be ready. Heading into the world with her scarred body was extremely frightening to her. However, it ranked higher than dying in a civil war. Telling herself to be tough, she pulled out her Kindle to read the day’s medical headlines before falling asleep.
* * * *
Darkrip gasped for air, his hands flailing as his eyeballs threatened to pop from his head like two pieces of burnt bread escaping a toaster. The choke hold his father was executing with his mind was straight up Darth Vader and his throat was paying the price.
Suddenly, he fell to the floor. He gasped large heaps of oxygen into his lungs.
“It was your idea to attack Restia,” his father yelled. A loud bang sounded and then something shattered as he threw one of the metal objects on his desk across the room.
“How dare you fail? Or was that your plan all along? Are you trying to sabotage me, son? Has your hatred of me finally capitulated to treason?”
“You’re paranoid,” Darkrip said, standing and rubbing his throat. “We did not fail. The Slayers have broken into civil war as we speak.”
“No thanks to you,” he said, spittle flying from his thin lips. “You are an abomination!”
At least on that, they could agree. “The Slayer princess will come to attack you under the light of the full moon in two weeks’ time. As I told you, I have been visiting her. She is beginning to trust me and she is overly curious. I will be able to lead her to you, to a place in the caves where she will underestimate your strength.”
Crimeous scowled. “I am becoming tired of your scheming. Make sure you don’t fail again. I’m not opposed to torturing you as you die, as I did your mother. It is no less than you deserve.”
Darkrip bowed and skulked from his father’s chamber, bile rising in his throat. He had witnessed his father’s long, skillful torture of his mother. It was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
Entering his chamber, he kneeled at his bedside and clasped his hands in front of his face. He had never prayed in his life, much less to Etherya, whom he hated with all his heart due to the cruel curse she had place upon him. But the end of days had come and that could change any man.
Closing his eyes, he prayed to the goddess he detested to give him strength to finish what he had set out to accomplish.
* * * *
Miranda found herself loving the nights of training. The Vampyre warriors were extremely skilled and she felt her body growing stronger as she sparred with them. It was hard to read her men when she had announced that she wanted them to bank their blood, but they all had complied. That was something. Ready to attack Crimeous, she would show her people that she was a valiant leader. In her mind, defeating him was the only way to convert her father’s supporters to her cause.
She was also doing her best to avoid Sathan. For some reason he had been unusually grumpy toward her over the past few days during their brief encounters. Having not the time nor the inclination to analyze a Vampyre’s moods, she felt it best to leave him the hell alone.
One thing that had surprised her? Her growing relationship with Latimus. He exhibited a tireless dedication to training all of their troops and she was grateful to him. They fell into a seamless pattern as they worked together and she was quite thankful.
There were only a few nights left until the full moon. Miranda spent hours going over Kenden’s Deamon cave renderings with Latimus. Thankfully, he had emailed her a copy before he entered the human world. She worried for him but also knew that there was no other person more capable of surviving than Ken.
Sliding into bed, she closed her eyes, knowing she needed sleep so that her body would be strong. She was still getting used to sleeping during the day, but the blackout shades in her room helped.
As she awoke, she inhaled a deep breath. It was time to train. After brushing her teeth, she donned her bra, underwear and a pair of yoga pants that Lila had given her. As she pulled the tank top over her head, she heard a grave voice behind her.
“I am afraid you will not be attacking my father during the full moon.”
She whirled, observing Darkrip as he stood by the bed, and lowered the hem of her shirt to her waist. “Why in the hell do you always appear to me while I’m in some state of undress? It’s creepy.”
She expected a quip back from him but he remained silent. Worry crept into her chest. “Why won’t I be attacking your father?”
His green eyes bored into hers. “Yes,” he said.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You asked me if I knew your mother, after my father abducted her. The answer is yes.”
Emotion swamped her. “When did you see her? How often? Did she—”
“There’s no time for that now.” He came to stand in front of her. “She looked so much like you.” Lifting his hand, he brushed the ends of her hair with the backs of his fingers.
Miranda shivered, expecting to be repulsed by his touch but instead feeling drawn to him. “Why are you telling me this now?”
His expression was one she had never seen on him, pensive and serious. “I need you to trust me. The world is crumbling beneath our feet. I find myself worried that you will die. It is the first time I have ever been scared to lose someone and it is…strange. One such as me, with the blood of the Dark Lord, generally doesn’t feel these things.”
Sadness rushed through her. What a lonely life he must lead. Although he was a Deamon, she felt something akin to sympathy for him. “I’m not scared of your father. If I die trying to fulfill the prophecy then at least I die knowing I tried. It’s more than I can say for most.”
“Your courage is noble but it is not my father you should be afraid of. It is your own. Hurry. He marches upon the compound as we speak. His mind is crazed and he is determined to kill you rather than accept a truce with the Vampyres.” Sober emerald eyes stared down into her soul. “Stay the course.”
Like all the other times before, he vanished.
Miranda threw on her army boots and ran to warn the others. For she somehow knew that the Deamon told the truth.
Chapter 22
Sathan sat at his large mahogany desk, buried in the paperwork of the realm. As the sole ruler he was responsible for signing off on all licenses, applications and requests. It was the least favorite part of his duty. He much preferred strategizing with Latimus and Heden about how to better the lives of his people.
Miranda burst into the room, breathless.
“He’s coming,” she said.
Sathan stood, his heart’s pace quickening. “Who?”
“My father. He’s marching here with his troops. Tonight.”
“Let’s go,” Sathan said. Walking with purpose, he led her to the barracks.
Latimus’ head popped up from his task of cleaning his AR-15 rifle. “What is it?” he asked.
“Marsias is leading an attack on our compound. Round up the troops and head to the wall. We’ll meet them outside.”
Resol
ute, his brother stood and followed his orders.
Ten minutes later he was racing toward the wall in the Hummer, Miranda sitting beside him. She looked tense and pensive.
“It will be alright,” he said, trying to comfort her. “We won’t let him defeat your cause.”
“I know,” she said. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed. “That’s what I’m worried about. His hatred makes him weak.” Turning her head, her eyes pleaded with him. “Promise me you’ll take him alive. I don’t want him to die.”
Sathan grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I promise.”
Reaching the wall, they exited the vehicle. Several large tanks pulled up, each carrying ten Vampyre soldiers. The Slayer troops had come as well. Tonight, the battle lines would be blurred as Slayer fought with Vampyre to defeat Slayer. The world had gone mad.
Sathan addressed the soldiers. “Men, Latimus is your general this evening but I am your commander-in-chief. I order you to take King Marsias alive. He is not to be harmed.” The men yelled their acceptance of his order.
Turning, he regarded Miranda, standing to his right. Such a large burden had been placed on her small shoulders. He could see the emotions warring inside her.
“Come, Miranda,” he said, jerking her from her thoughts. “It’s time.”
Sathan led the soldiers to the wall and placed his palm against the stones. A doorway materialized and the troops began to march through.
He saw Marsias standing a hundred yards away, men lined in up formation behind him.
“I would guess he has two-hundred men,” Latimus said, coming to stand on his left. Miranda stood silently to his right.
“He will be slaughtered. We have four-hundred.”
Latimus nodded. “What do you want to do?”
Sathan rubbed his forehead with his fingers, frustrated. He hadn’t spent the last few centuries trying to decrease the frequency of the Slayer raids so that he could kill two-hundred of them this night. “Let me try to negotiate with him.”
Miranda grabbed his arm, concern in her expression. “He will never negotiate with you. It is not in his nature.”
Sathan placed his hand over hers on his forearm. “Let me try. If not, we will attack and I promise we will take him alive.”
She gave him a small nod and he started forward.
When he was within ear-shot of Marsias, he spoke. “King Marsias, we have no wish to fight this night. Your daughter has aligned with us and sees the advantage in finding a nonviolent solution. Our wish is the same: a peaceful existence for our people. Lay down your weapons and let us negotiate peace.”
Marsias gave a cruel laugh and stepped forward a few paces. “Slayers will never align with Vampyres. Your people have slaughtered and murdered ours for centuries. My daughter has no official capacity to negotiate with you and if continue harboring her we will consider it an act of war.”
“We recognize Miranda as the true queen. Valktor’s blood runs strong through her.”
“I am the true ruler of the Slayers!” Marsias said. Spittle shot from his mouth and his eyes were crazed. Sathan knew that a truce was unlikely.
“I will give you one more chance before we attack. Otherwise, draw your weapons.”
In response, Marsias lifted the sword he held in his hand. Locking his gaze onto Sathan’s, he screamed, “Charge!”
Chaos broke loose. Sathan turned to run as the Slayer men approached. They were armed with everything from eight-shooters to semi-automatic rifles to swords. He heard Latimus yell “Attack!” and the cries of war broke out.
Reaching his men, he turned to fight. From the time he was young he had always had skill with a knife. Pulling the knife he kept at his belt, he charged.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Miranda wielding the sword competently. Unbeknownst to her, he had been secretly observing her train each night with the troops. Watching her was mesmerizing, though his need to do so was puzzling. He had yet to understand why he was becoming obsessed with being connected to her in some way. Even if she didn’t know he was there.
One of the Slayers aimed an eight-shooter at his chest and he knocked it away. Another charged him and he plunged his knife into his stomach and lifted up, gutting the soldier. Hating that he was killing, he screamed in frustration as another soldier charged.
They fought for a small eternity. Soldier against soldier. Slayer against Vampyre. Slayer against Slayer. Eventually, the troops began to tire.
“Assessment!” Sathan yelled to Latimus.
“We’ve lost about twenty but they’ve lost almost ninety. It is just a matter of time before they are defeated.”
Sathan acknowledged his brother’s statement and then turned to fight the oncoming Slayer behind him.
It was Marsias.
The king gave a crazed roar as he lifted the eight-shooter to Sathan’s chest. Thinking quickly, Sathan shoved the barrel of the weapon down and the Slayer shot the bullets into the ground. He gave a frustrated cry that created an opening. Sathan seized it. Grabbing Marsias, he held the knife to his neck.
“I have your king!” he bellowed, trying to make his voice as loud as possible. Marsias struggled against him, his back to Sathan’s front as he held the blade to his neck. “Cease!” Sathan said.
Slowly, like a wave spreading, the fighting stopped as the men realized that the Vampyre king held the Slayer king hostage. Once he had the attention of all the soldiers, Sathan said, “I have your king. The battle is over. Slayers, return to your compound. Otherwise I will kill him on sight.”
Miranda rushed toward him. “No!” she said.
Those gorgeous green eyes pooled with fear. “Trust me,” he said quietly.
Slowly, she stepped back a few feet.
Marsias continued to sputter against him. “I will not hold him much longer. Retreat or watch your king’s throat slit open. It is your choice.”
One of the larger Slayers turned to the troops. “Retreat!” he said. The Slayers gave a valiant cry and turned to follow the river home.
Once they disappeared from sight, Miranda rushed toward him. “Let him go!”
“No,” Sathan said, understanding that she was overcome with emotion. “Latimus, I need the restraints.”
Latimus came over, restraints in hand, and lifted his sword. With the butt of the handle, he delivered a blow to Marsias’ head, knocking him unconscious.
Miranda screamed and rushed to hear father’s side, falling on her knees beside him. Fury filled Sathan that she could have such concern for the man who had betrayed her time and again.
He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. “Not here, Miranda,” he whispered angrily, not wanting her soldiers to hear. “You can see to him once we’re off the battlefield.”
Anger filled her features and she pulled her arm from him. “Don’t manhandle me. Latimus knocked him out!”
“Latimus did what he had to do. It is easier to restrain him this way. We’ll take him to the barracks and question him there.”
Hatred swam in her gaze, further inflaming his anger.
“I will question him.”
“We both will,” Sathan said.
“No fucking way.”
“It’s not a debate, Miranda. Now gather your men and give them a good speech. They fought valiantly tonight and they need acknowledgement from their leader.”
A muscle twitched in her jaw as she gritted her teeth. She stalked toward her men and began to address them. Watching her, emotions warred within him. Her stubborn, passionate streak was both an asset and a hindrance. While it motivated her to take action, it sometimes caused her to react too impulsively. In the centuries since he’d assumed the throne he had worked hard to rule with restrained passion. He wanted to help her in any way he could to do the same. It would make her an even better leader.
When she finished speaking to the troops, Sathan gave Latimus a nod. His brother picked up the Slayer king and headed toward the opening in the wall. Once everyone was throu
gh, Sathan closed the opening.
He ordered Latimus to transport Marsias back to the barracks and was surprised when Miranda jumped in his brother’s Hummer. “I’m riding with my father. I’ll see you at the barracks.”
Deciding not to engage, on this battle at least, he got into his Hummer and followed them back.
* * * *
Once at the barracks, Latimus tied Marsias to a chair, making sure the bonds were tight. The three of them regarded him as he began to moan.
“Father,” Miranda said, rushing to kneel beside him.
Latimus gave Sathan a look but Sathan shook his head, silently warning him off. He saw no harm in letting her soothe her father, as long as it wasn’t in front of the soldiers.
“Miranda,” her father said, looking around the dim room. “Where are we?”
“You’re safe,” she said, rubbing his arm. “We’ve got you.”
Sathan saw the exact moment when recognition lit in the king’s eyes. Followed shortly thereafter by rage. “You’re holding me hostage with two Vampyres? How could you?”
“You gave me no choice,” she said. “You led an attack on the compound. Why? Do you hate me that much?” Sathan could hear her trying to hold back tears.
“I hate the fucking Vampyres,” he said, his neck muscles straining. “I thought you did, too. They are murderers!”
“Not anymore.” She stood and removed her hand from him. “We have to evolve past that, Father. They wish to end this war as much as we do.”
“Lies!” he said, his eyes bulging with hate. “They wish to dethrone me so that they can install you as queen. A woman. Weak and filled with emotion. Then they can attack us and abduct us all!”
Miranda jerked as if she’d been struck. How awful it must be to hear these things from a parent. Wanting to help her, he spoke up.
“We wish for peace, Marsias. An end to this war. That is all we want.”
The king gave a hate-filled laugh. “You are so weak, Miranda, to believe his lies. He wants nothing more than total annihilation of our kingdom.”
Miranda shook her head, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “I won’t watch you devolve into this,” she said. She turned and he felt something shift inside him. The pain swimming in her eyes rocked him to his core. “Keep him here until he’s ready to be reasonable. I need a few moments in my chamber.”
The End of Hatred Page 19
