A Taste of Crimson

by E. M. Knight

  In a matter of minutes, it’s done. She has vampire blood inside her, and she has the serum that will ensure her survival through the transformation.

  I lay her down on the floor. I look upon her as I would upon my own child. I feel no guilt, no discomfort, no discontent over what I did.

  With a crash, Smithson and Paolo burst into the room. They come to a staggered halt when they see the bloody scene before them.

  “You felt her presence,” I say knowingly.

  Paolo momentarily appears at a loss for words. Finally, he mutters, “Why?”

  But Smithson looks down at me with nothing but the most approving sort of pride.

  “Well done, April,” he congratulates me. “Well done.”

  Chapter Twelve

  James

  I sigh, satisfied, and stretch my arms out over my head.

  Victoria cuddles up against my side. Her exquisite flesh feels like absolute perfection against my body.

  “Mmm,” she purrs. She runs a hand over my stomach, fingers with a gentle twitch grazing my abs. “That was…”

  “Amazing?” I say. “Spectacular?” I grin. “You’re welcome.”

  She hits me. “Don’t push your luck.”

  I slide out from under the cover and walk across the room to retrieve my clothes. I can feel Victoria’s eyes on me as I put them on.

  “I’m going to go pay Beast a visit,” I tell her. “I want to see how he’s getting on.”

  “Didn’t you say the generals had it under control?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust them to it?”

  “I’d be a fool to place in them my absolute trust,” I say. “But for the most part, yes. They don’t undermine the chain of command. The hierarchy only reinforces that.”

  “You know, I’m glad you decided to turn them,” she says. “I’ve been thinking. Your desire for your own coven always struck me as ego-driven. But maybe I didn’t see the point. Having an organization like this in the palm of your hand…?” She slides forward and smiles at me. “I consider that a great success.”

  “Of course, it is,” I say, throwing a shirt over my back. “We just have to get Cierra out of the way, and then it’s smooth sailing from there.”

  Her face takes on a serious expression. “You mustn’t underestimate her, James.”

  “Well, I’ve got you to remind me of the seriousness of her threat, haven’t I?” I quip.

  She does not look amused. “You’d just better hope Smithson returns soon,” she says.

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  “And what about Sylvia?” she asks. “What are you going to do with her?”

  I blink. I’d forgotten all about her, truth be told. She was Smithson’s woman and had proved disloyal to him in the end.

  “Now that you have control of The Crusaders, you get to decide what happens to her.”

  “Where is she?” I ask.

  “Being held in the place all their vampire prisoners are kept while they await their death,” Victoria tells me.

  I bark a laugh. “So that was that? The plea for help, her betrayal, the rescue where I lost Liana, and the entire pack… all that was just to imprison her?”

  “I don’t know what she expected,” Victoria says sadly. “Maybe she thought she’d get amnesty for giving so many vampires up to The Crusaders. Maybe she hoped her history with them would change things.”

  “Well, it served her right,” I say.

  “James…”

  “What?” I snap. “You want me to take pity on her?”

  “She does know certain things,” April says slowly. “She watched over Cierra for so long. Maybe she can help.”

  “You think I’d take the help of a turncoat?” I shake my head. “Sometimes I wonder if you are more human than vampire, still.”

  She surges up. The cover falls from her body, revealing her glorious breasts.

  Angrily she grabs the sheet and covers up. “You know what I am,” she says darkly.

  “The vixen I first met in The Crypts had vision. She had ambition. What happened to her?”

  Victoria scoffs. “There’s a time and place for those things. There’s also a time and place for prudence.”

  “And this, you’ll have me believe, is the latter?”

  “Yes!” she exclaims. She scrambles out of bed, letting the sheet fall where it may, and marches up to me.

  I keep my eyes square on her face.

  No matter how hard that is.

  “You have the most powerful witch in the world coming after you.” She jabs me in the chest. “The most powerful who’s ever lived!”

  “Don’t lecture me,” I say, starting to get annoyed. “I know the situation I’m in.”

  “You need every advantage you can get,” she continues. “Sylvia—” she stabs a hand out, pointing away, toward the cell she’s in, “—might be of help.”

  “I am not about to seek help from someone who cost me so many vampire lives,” I tell her. “Why the hell is she still alive, anyway? You said she’s being kept in confinement after being marked for death. Paul should have already had her killed.”

  Victoria gives a soft laugh and shakes her head. “Why would Paul destroy one of his own kind? You changed all the rules after you made him, James.”

  I exhale heavily. “All right, fine,” I say. “Sylvia needs to be seen to. I’ll go have a chat with her and see where we stand.”

  “Just don’t do anything rash, James,” Victoria warns.

  “Go to our recovering friend,” I tell her curtly. “We shouldn’t have left him alone, in any case.”

  “I thought we did it for good reason,” she says, shooting me a sultry smile.

  “Ha!” I bark. I smack her ass as she turns away. “That’s more like it. I’ll meet you there later.”

  “Fine,” she says, a bit haughtily, and quickly gets dressed.

  ***

  I get Antuon, one of the top generals, to take me to the place where Sylvia is kept.

  We pass more than a few humans along the way. But since they’re not expecting vampires to be lurking in their midst, their minds are elsewhere. None notice the difference between themselves and us.

  A dash of the influence to persuade them to walk faster and avert their eyes from us helps, as well.

  Antuon takes me on a long journey through innumerable hallways and doors. Each one we pass is more secure than the last.

  I like that. These people have the proper respect for a caged vampire’s ability.

  We reach the final level, deep underground. Bright, bright lights shine overhead.

  I glance at Antuon. If my skin feels tight from the light, he must be so much worse, given how recently he’d been made.

  But he shows no outward sign of discomfort, aside from a slight tightness of the corners of his eyes.

  I like that. I like that very much. These fledglings are nothing like the first Nocturna Animalia.

  He comes to a sudden stop and turns sharply to his left. I see the very faint outline of a door in the wall.

  “She’s in there, James,” he says. He motions down the rest of the hall. “We have hundreds of such holding cells, even though we’ve never had to use more than a half-dozen.”

  “This seems an excellent place to keep our enemies,” I note.

  Antuon looks at me sideways but does not ask.

  “To enter the room, just press your hand to the door,” he tells me.

  I step forward.

  “Wait,” he adds. I look back. He hands me a black leather glove, very thin.

  “Put that on first. The mechanism only works if you’re human.”

  “This is supposed to mimic that?” I ask.

  “Yes. The palm and fingers are embedded with a special nano-material that forms to the shape of your hand but hides the fact that you’re a vampire.”

  “Interesting,” I say.

  “Try it on,” he says.

  I slip my left hand into the
glove. Nothing happens at first.

  But then, a moment or two later, I feel the glove tightening, and a warm sensation running up my arm.

  “It’s ready,” Antuon says. I start to reach out with the gloved hand, but he stops me.

  “Wait. Try your other hand first.”

  “It’s not going to give me some nasty surprise, is it?” I ask.

  “No. I could do it instead, if you’d like.”

  “No, no, that’s fine,” I press my ungloved hand against the door. The surface feels very cold.

  Nothing happens.

  “Now the glove,” Antuon suggests, obviously enjoying showing off his toy.

  I nod and put the gloved hand up against the door. Immediately, a green light flashes along the door’s frame, making it stand out from the rest of the wall.

  The door shifts outwards a bit, nudging me back. A digital keypad appears where the knob should be.

  “Very impressive,” I note, looking down at the glove. “What’s the code?”

  He rattles off a sequence of sixteen digits that I punch in.

  Once I’m done, the doorway flashes once, and the door slides to the side.

  “And there you are,” he says, turning away. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  I give him a nod and walk in.

  On the other side of the doorway I find myself in a pitch-black tunnel, extending far in a very narrow path. At the very end of it, vertical metal bars block the entrance to a tiny cell.

  A figure of a woman huddles inside, pressing herself into one decrepit corner, her arms bound by those vile cuffs that take away vampiric power.

  I smile and walk forward confidently. I quite like this place. I appreciate the way The Crusaders modernized their dungeons without actually doing away with the original… charm.

  This little cave, for lack of a better word, feels exactly like the underground cells we had in The Haven.

  I reach the end of the rocky pathway. It smells of dirt. Moisture is in the air.

  I look down at Sylvia, cowering beyond the iron bars, absolutely oblivious to my presence.

  My well-honed hunting instincts struggle to be unleashed.

  I keep them down for now. Instead, I clear my throat.

  When that doesn’t elicit a response, I rattle the iron bars.

  Sylvia jerks and looks my way, wide-eyed but unseeing.

  Something about the mockery this cell makes of the vampiric gifts does not sit well with me. A vampire should never be locked in by bars, or a metal as easily malleable as iron. There’s not an ounce of silver anywhere!

  Except, of course, on the cuffs on her wrists. Those leech away all the vampire powers, so that she is as defenseless as a human.

  “Hello, Sylvia,” I say darkly, squatting down to her level. “Were you expecting me?”

  She scrambles back at the sound of my voice. Her eyes go wide. She trembles with fear.

  “Bah,” I spit. “Disgraceful. Are you really so frightened of me? Then again…” I consider. “I know all about what you did.”

  Her eyes stare but are unable to penetrate the darkness. “You can’t even see me, can you?” I ask. “Oh, Sylvia. Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. What have they done to you?”

  I reach into my pocket and take out a box of matches. I strike one against the friction pad. It flares to life in front of my face.

  I fix her with a horrendous smile. “You weren’t expecting to see me again, not after your little backstabbing betrayal?”

  The match goes out. I curse and light another one.

  She is too much in awe to speak.

  “I understand why you did what you did,” I say sadly. “Oh, trust me, I do. But I dare say you were hoping for a more welcoming reception than this when you decided to go against me.”

  The second match goes out, too. I stand up slowly, sliding my hand along one of the iron bars as I do.

  I let my claws come out and tap one of them in thought. “It’s not very comfortable in here, is it?” I ask. “All your vampiric abilities gone. Held prisoner by this flimsy metal. If you had your strength, you would have no problem breaking out.” I tsk. “But you never wanted the dark gift. Perhaps now, you realize how precious it was.”

  “I… hate… everything about you!” she manages. Her voice still drips with fear. “The Crusaders would protect me. And they have.”

  I laugh out loud. “You call this protection? Tossed into a tiny little cage, all power gone, awaiting execution?”

  She gasps at that. My eyebrows go up.

  “Oh,” I say sweetly. “You didn’t know? Your precious organization brought you here and put you next in line to be killed. You’d already be dead, were it not for my most recent… intervention.”

  She just shakes her head and starts to mutter, “No, no, no…”

  I click my tongue in irritation. “Do you hear yourself? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”

  I kneel down again and lower my voice. “You want me to tell you a secret? You chose the wrong side. Here. Let me demonstrate.”

  I focus on the tightly bound ball of magic in the back of my mind and let a trickle of Fire out, shielded by a layer of Air.

  A dancing flame appears above my hand, illuminating the cell many times brighter than those matches ever could have.

  Just to show off, I shift the currents feeding into it, and the flame turns a deep, unnatural blood red.

  She stares at the flame in shocked wonder, then dares to look up and meet my eyes.

  “You…” she whispers.

  I smile. “Yes, me. You knew I came here to gain control of my magic. Well, I’ve done that.”

  “Impossible,” she gasps.

  “I’m sorry, dear, but you’re on the losing team.” I dip my hands through to her side of the bars and deposit the flame on the ground there.

  It continues to dance.

  I stand up. “While you’ve been locked away, I have managed to subvert the entire organization. The Crusaders are fully under my control. Your old friend Paul was the first to be converted.” My voice becomes harsh. “He begged for it. Just as now, I expect you to beg to live.”

  I fling a finger out. All of a sudden, the flame jumps toward her, morphing mid-air into a fiery chain, and wraps itself around her throat. She goes shock-still, knowing if she moves the wrong way the chain will burn her skin.

  It hovers around her neck, only a sliver of air between it and her flesh.

  She starts breathing hard, nearly gasping. I know she can feel the heat.

  “So?” I demand. “What will it be? Beg me for mercy, or die here, now, because of your pathetic pride?”

  “James,” she squeaks. “Please…”

  “Not good enough,” I cut in. “I want to hear you beg, Sylvia. You know what you’re responsible for. You know the deaths you’ve caused.”

  “Please,” she tries again. I increase the heat emitted by the chain. “Don’t…”

  “Do you want to know what happened to your vaunted organization?” I demand, the flaming chain swelling and expanding to match my anger. “Do you know what I did?”

  “James…”

  “I turned it into my coven!” I snarl. “The generals, all of them, are vampires now! Those who refused are dead. The ones who bent the knee now live to serve me. Last chance, Sylvia. Do the same as them. Swear an oath of allegiance to me!”

  “James… I can’t…. I can’t move!”

  My anger with her boils over. “All the pack members killed!” I scream. “Liana dead! All thanks to you and your betrayal! You think I would let you live, after all that?”

  Helpless tears stream down her cheeks. “Please…”

  “Enough!” I snap. I let the tight hold I have over the source of magic in my mind go. The whole cell erupts in flames.

  “Goodbye, Sylvia,” I say, turning my back and walking away.

  Her screams and the stench of burning flesh follow me all the way out.

  Chapter Thirteen

 
; Logan

  Demon Realm

  I follow the Black Sorceress through the desolate, barren landscape, tense and on high alert.

  The Demon Realm is oppressive. I feel the hostile energy surrounding me as keenly as if it were a physical thing. It presses into me. This world pulses with a destructive, vengeful energy. It feels as if a single misstep will send me throttling off the edge.

  Cierra and I have been traversing the plains for hours. So far, we’ve only had one encounter with a demon. It was a weak one, only just born and easily disposed of.

  Still, I made it plain to the witch just what I thought of her carelessness in letting us come upon it without knowing it was there before.

  She’d fixed me with a scornful glare and told me if I wanted to go the rest of the way on my own, I could. Then she ridiculed me for being worried about so weak a demon—weak enough that she couldn’t even feel it from far away.

  I burned with a zealous rage after being addressed like that. Who the hell was she to show me disrespect?

  But I had to bite my damn tongue and swallow my rage for fear of her truly leaving me behind. She knows how to cast portals from this world back to ours.

  I do not.

  So, I follow her, grudgingly, resenting the power imbalance between us. She is a witch, yes, but still only human! By virtue of being a vampire, I should be high above her.

  Then I recall the disdain which she had, centuries ago, toward my kind. I remember the innumerable vampires she’d hunted and killed, before I could collect and protect them under roof of my coven.

  I look at her, trudging along in front of me through the sandy ash, her labored walk leaving long trails on the ground. She’d cast herself a walking stick, made of magic turned material.

  I’m disgusted by the sight of such a physically weak creature. I am disgusted even more that I have to pretend she is superior to me.

  But in this god-forsaken land, she is at home. She knows all the best routes, she knows the safe way forward. Since we’ve only had that one inadvertent encounter with a demon so far, I’d consider her job well done.

  But damn, how I hate supplanting myself to her! The same woman I’d vowed to destroy, years ago, after she’d killed my brethren.