by E. M. Knight
Thankfully, I know the secret to the mechanism behind the doors now. I choose the right one, open it, and hurry down the final hallways leading to the lift that takes me back up to the rest of the facility.
As I step into it and hit the button to go up, I flare my senses for the presence of other vampires. I feel the warmth of satisfaction as I become aware of all the vampire generals now under my control.
Two are waiting for me at the top, exactly where I left them.
“Any movement from Paul?” I ask.
“No,” one of them responds. “He’s still in his private quarters.”
“We’ll give him until sunrise,” I say. “Then he’ll have to come out and stop acting the petulant child.”
The general allows a look of quick surprise to pass over his face before stilling his features.
He’s still not completely used to somebody speaking of his former superior that way, I think.
I don’t hold it against him. The generals have all shown themselves to be absolute paragons of integrity and respect for the chain of command.
“Understood, James,” he says. He fumbles a bit with using my first name. For now, since I haven’t given myself a formal title, I told all of them to refer to me as James.
“Have there been any interruptions in operations?” I ask.
“No,” the other general says. “Everything is running exactly as it was before The Change.”
I allow myself an indulgent smile. All the fledgling vampires have started calling the great event that turned them from humans to vampires “The Culling.” The amount of reverence they place on it is impressive even to me.
Seems like their hatred for vampires does not run so deep when given the Gift.
“Good,” I respond. “That’s as it should be. Are any of the humans showing signs of suspicion? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“All the soldiers of The Crusaders hold their place,” he tells me. “We’ve weeded out the ones who have problems with authority during recruitment. There are no problems, nor do I anticipate there will be any.”
“And the men in your posts, stationed worldwide, have been called back to base?” I ask. They are the only ones I’m concerned with, because they are unknown. How many of those generals will refuse the vampire gift? How many will rebel?
Well—no matter. With the vampires I already have at my disposal, it will be no trouble overpowering a few upstart humans.
“They should arrive within the fortnight,” he says. “The ones in charge of active missions could not just drop everything to come.”
“That’s fine,” I say. My mind, however, is working fast. Within the next fortnight, I expect to come face-to-face with Cierra.
And from that encounter, only one of us will emerge alive.
“I think,” I tell my fledglings, “that it’s time to get rid of the last unknown: We go to see Beast.”
***
I look over my shoulder, where five of the strongest fledglings are standing.
I don’t know why I brought them. Initially, I thought it good ceremony—but Beast has no way of telling one vampire’s strength from another.
Only if he’s converted, will he be able to understand the meaning of this delegation. But I am not exactly betting on him coming over to the vampire side.
I give the generals a nod, then key in the code for the door, and walk in.
It slides shut behind me.
Immediately upon entering, I am struck by the strength of the man. Not his physical strength—but the strength that’s found in his presence.
The differences are very pronounced between the vampires. Humans, not so much. The vast majority of them occupy the same narrow bandwidth, far below the weakest vampire.
But Beast is somehow different. His spirit is stronger. His will is unbreakable.
As a human, he stands not so far below the weakest vampire. And, knowing the difference between our species, that is a very special thing.
He does not move from his place on the bed. He is dressed in white cotton trousers and a white cotton t-shirt. That thick, dark bushy beard makes a stark contrast to his clothing.
He was already facing the door. Now, his eyes come to mine.
“Here to kill me?” he asks, his voice gruff and devoid of emotion. “I already told Paul no. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.”
“Then death is your only option.” I lean carelessly against the wall and cross one leg over the other. My eyes don’t move from his. His, in turn, do not move from mine.
I do not exert any of the influence. I want to know how long it takes until he wilts in the presence of a vampire. Humans have a natural aversion to us, because they sense we are predators, and they are prey.
I wait. Beast does not seem to be displaying that reaction. He just continues staring at me, hate and loathing in his eyes.
The tension between us builds and builds in the silence. I’m fine with it. This man can do nothing to me.
What I don’t quite understand, however, is how he’s able to resist the natural desire to submit for so long.
Beast breaks the silence first—but he does not break eye contact.
“What are you waiting for?” he growls. “Do it. Kill me. I am not coming over to your side.”
“I think,” I say slowly, dragging out the words, “that you possess information that will be of importance to me.”
He hawks and spits. “If you think I’ll ever breathe a word of what I know…” he begins.
“There are ways of making you talk,” I look at my nails. “Practiced by our forefathers.”
“Torture me all you want. I’ll never break.”
His gaze becomes deadly.
I laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. “Torture is so primitive,” I say. “Under enough stress, anybody will break.”
“Try me,” he challenges.
In a flash, I’m across the room, my hand gripping his neck tightly and cutting off his air supply. He chokes and starts to turn blue.
“However, I believe you’re right,” I say softly. “Your pain threshold is much too high. You will die before we reach that point. And all the precious knowledge in that head will go to waste.”
I let go. He drops to the ground, coughing and sputtering. After the first few vital breaths to restore oxygen to his body, however, he gets up and faces me again.
“Do your worst,” he snarls. “Vampire.”
I grab him by the neck again and fling him against the side wall. He hits it hard and crumbles down. I think I hear a rib crack.
I’m on him before he has a chance to recover. “I did not mean to torture you,” I hiss. “You gave me that idea. All I truly wanted to do was this.”
And with a surge of concentration I direct all my vampire influence at him.
What I find shocks me. His mind is locked away in a tight, impenetrable shell. I tighten my grip on his chest, willing more and more of the influence in his direction. He meets my eyes… and actually smirks.
“I told you…” he grunts, “Vampire. I… will not… break!”
I snarl, doubling down my effort. But all the power I direct at him is rebounded by the tight black ball. I cannot break through.
Beads of sweat appear on Beast’s forehead. Aha! At least I know this foul trick requires his concentration.
Well, if it’s a matter of stamina, I have the advantage. I press and press, willing my influence onto him. He keeps his mind locked away from me. Concentration marks his features.
Right at the moment I feel I’m about to win, his eyes roll back, and he passes out.
I release him with a curse. “Dammit!” I snarl. I prod his body.
Out cold.
I pick him up and carry him over to the bed, dumping him there unceremoniously.
I walk back to the door, crouch down, and wait for him to wake.
At least an hour passes before he stirs. I feel his presence coming to life first, and then I see his eyes po
p open. There’s a brief, tiny moment where his mind is unguarded—but I’m too slow to take advantage.
As soon as he has consciousness, his thoughts are locked into that tight ball.
“A neat trick,” I tell him. “But do you really think you can hold out forever?” I shake my head. “One of us has the superior physical capabilities. No matter how strong you are as a human, you pale in comparison to a full vampire.”
I rise and start to approach him. “Now,” I say. “Shall we try again?”
His face takes on that stark, determined look again, as he steels himself for the coming mental assault.
I grab him by the lapels and haul him to his feet. I look him right in the eyes.
“You are wasting my time by resisting,” I whisper softly. “The longer this takes, the more unpleasant it will be for you.”
He spits in my face. “Go to hell.”
Such anger takes me that I backhand him and break his jaw. The force of the blow sends him flying across the room. He collapses, once more, in a sad heap.
I take a deep, slow breath. “You,” I warn him, “are starting to get on my nerves.”
He glares at me, as defiant as ever, and mutters something that sounds like, “Demon spawn.”
I face him and laugh. “No, no,” I tell him. “You have your facts crossed. Vampires have nothing to do with demons whatsoever. Those are just some old superstitions talking.”
Without warning, I fire a direct assault of influence at him, trying to break his mind.
But the block he has there is as impenetrable as it was before.
Somehow, he’s managing to harness the mental power required to maintain it, irrespective of the condition of his body.
We stay locked in that impasse for a good long time. I feel his presence weakening, feel him fading away… but it does nothing to soften the barrier he’s built up.
With a sound of disgust, I turn away and let him be. He gasps in a breath of air. I stride angrily to the other side of the room.
I cannot afford to waste another hour waiting for him to wake up if he passes out again.
I turn toward him. “Beast.” I say. “What the hell are you fighting for?”
He pushes himself up. Blood dribbles out of his mouth. The smell of it tantalizes me.
“Fuck your whore mother,” he spits.
I shake my head in exasperation. “You don’t understand,” I say. “Until I get what I want, I will not kill you.”
“And what do you want? For me to join your ranks?” The blood stains and collects in his beard. “The others may be traitors to our cause. Not me.”
“You are a traitor to your leader,” I tell him. “Paul made the right choice. The Crusaders’ centuries-long battle against my kind is antique and misplaced. Paul saw the strength his organization would gain by making this change. Why are you so obstinate?”
“Frustrated?” He laughs. “I always was and always will be a better man than you, you disgusting, filthy, wretched vermin!”
“You know,” I say casually, “I could convert you against your will. Keep you in silver chain in the same place you and Paul kept that other vampire. In the room where you tortured his daughter.”
At the mention of her, the most subtle of changes comes over Beast’s face. It’s only momentarily, there one moment and gone the next…
But I notice it with my sharp eyes.
“I never tortured the girl,” he says. With supreme effort, he pushes his battered body up. His broken jaw makes understanding him difficult. “I had nothing to do with what was done to her.” He spreads his arms wide, to either side of his body, exposing his chest. “Do it, vampire. Rip my heart out. Crush it. I know you live for the kill—what could be more satisfying than putting someone like me down?”
I look at him for a long time, not moving.
“Well?” he roars. “DO IT! KILL ME!”
“You cared about her,” I whisper under my breath, ignoring the taunt. “I can see it in you.”
“Like hell I did. She was a butchered version of one of you!”
“No.” I approach him slowly. “You really did care for her. Why? She was but a child. What interest would someone like you have in a girl like her?”
He starts and doesn’t speak, challenging me to lose my temper and lash out.
I approach him. He keeps his arms out wide. As I come closer, he slaps his chest with his fist.
“My heart is waiting, vampire filth,” he growls. “Take it!”
I grab his wrist to stop him from making that incessant motion. “Quiet,” I say. “This is not the day you die.”
“You really think so?” he murmurs. His words, for some reason, are becoming more slurred. The blood streaming out of his mouth increases in velocity.
“Wait,” I say, a sinking suspicion taking hold of me. “You wouldn’t have…”
As a perfect taunt, he grins, keeping his jaw locked, and I see two rows of blood-stained teeth.
I curse as Beast starts to wobble. The bastard’s chewed the end of his tongue off so he would bleed to death! His presence starts to fade precipitously.
“What are you going to do, James?” he gurgles, blood gushing from his lips. The words are nearly unintelligible. “If you make me a vampire, I’ll spend eternity hunting your kind. If you let me die, you’ll lose the secrets you want.”
“Like hell I will,” I growl, and pounce on him, pinning him against the will. He doesn’t have the fight left in him to struggle as he begins to lose consciousness from loss of blood.
I bite two incisions into my wrist and shove them to his mouth. He tries to push my arm away but lacks the strength. I plug his nose. He has no choice but to breathe in through his mouth, at the same time taking whatever small portion of my healing blood in.
Of course, he does not drink enough to stave off the coming unconsciousness. He fades away, his body going limp. I don’t care. I lay him down, then press my wrists to his lips again. I must give him just the right amount of blood so he recovers.
I step back and watch the two marks on my wrist heal.
Beast now has enough vampire blood in him to begin the conversion. Without the serum, however, he may not survive it—he could still die when his human blood begins to be replaced by what I gave him.
I turn away in disgust. Well, so be it. It will be weeks before the first signs of the conversion show. In the meantime, we can keep Beast as prisoner—and after I deal with Cierra, I can turn to extracting the information I need out of him.
Just because he was one of Paul’s most senior officers and probably his most trusted man, does not mean Paul knows all there is to know about Beast. I suspect the man’s past could be of great interest to me—and to my coven.
I exit the room. The vampires outside jerk to attention. They look at me in expectation but don’t ask directly what went on in there.
“Beast tried to kill himself,” I inform them, “in an attempt to force my hand. He thought that would only give me two options: convert him, or let him die. But there was a third. I gave him just the right amount of vampire blood for his afflictions to heal… but none of the serum required to seal the transformation.”
I look at the generals lined up in turn. “Only my serum can protect him from the effects of the upcoming transformation. You were all made the proper way. What you don’t know, perhaps, is that a human fed vampire blood will, over time, begin the process of transforming. Without the serum, however, it is long, slow, very painful—and, in most cases, lethal.”
“So now he either dies—or joins our ranks?” a fledgling asks.
“Yes, but we have time. He will remain mostly human for the next few weeks. The first of the changes will be very gradual. I want him kept alive until then. Bind him with those silver-laced cuffs. Put the ones on that sap the vampire ability. Put him in a proper cell, and always keep watch. He tried to end his life by chewing his tongue off—he wanted to bleed himself to death. You cannot allow that to happen. K
eeping Beast alive until the transformation kicks in is the highest priority. If he dies on any of your watches… the punishment will be severe. Understood?”
“Yes,” they answer.
“Well then, go on, get to it. The small amount of blood I gave him will stop the bleeding, but he will still be unconscious for the next few hours. I want him transferred to a secure cell, away from the rest of the Crusaders. Is that clear?”
The generals quickly communicate with their eyes, properly deferring to each other. Two of them step forth.
“We will keep him alive,” they tell me. “There are holding cells underground meant for exactly this purpose. We will see to it that he can’t escape, or hurt himself further.”
“Excellent,” I note. “Get to it. When you’re done, call a meeting of all the vampire generals. I want to see all of them in the command room.”
They give me a salute and set off on their tasks. I wait for a moment, feeling a great deal of satisfaction with how well they listen to me.
Then I stroll off to find Victoria.
We have a few hours left before sunrise, when I intend to get Paul.
I intend to make very good use of that time.
Chapter Nine
Eleira
After Alexander leaves me, I remain in the woods, enjoying the serenity of the earth.
With all that’s happened, it’s hard to imagine such tranquility is still accessible to me.
Yet that’s exactly what I feel here. I let my mind go blank and lie back on the damp ground, looking up at the canopy of stars.
So much has happened, so much has been revealed, and I’ve had no time to process it all. I can’t deceive myself into thinking that all is well now. The threat from The Crypts still looms large in my mind, plus whatever Cierra is doing…
I shudder. If what the Forsaken Sisters told me is right—and I have no reason to doubt them—then Cierra will try to break into The Haven by using demons to shatter the wards. It’s a terrifying proposition. I remember the havoc the Narwhark caused—and our encounter with that one larger, stronger, but slower demon in The Paths.
