A Taste of Crimson

by E. M. Knight

  Yet I have seen the future. I know what it entails. For me to shape the prophecy as I want, I have to work with this witch.

  As long as Eleira is alive, that is.

  I salivate at the thought of Eleira’s death. The girl rejected my offer—a true offer made in good faith. Who is she to say no to me? I gave her a chance, her and my ungrateful son, and they spat in my face.

  Well… that makes things even better for me. Once I eliminate Eleira, I will take control of The Haven, and the two most powerful covens in the history of the world will be joined together to usher in a new age for vampires everywhere!

  Cierra suddenly stops. She spins back and glares at me.

  “Be quiet, you fool!” she hisses.

  I open my mouth in protest—and promptly shut it.

  I realize I had been muttering to myself, without even noticing.

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to calm the ever-present anger inside. Ever since gaining access to the forbidden sect of magic, I’ve found that part of me harder and harder to control.

  What’s more—I’ve found that I don’t want to control it. I like the anger. I like the rage. It makes me feel alive, it makes me feel more powerful.

  Logically, I know that too much impetuosity will be a vulnerability… but I have been too far seduced by the dark side to really care.

  I open my eyes, almost trembling with all the pent-up aggression, and look at Cierra.

  “It won’t happen again,” I mouth.

  She hisses in revulsion and sweeps to me. She covers ground so fast I’d think her as capable as a vampire. For a woman so obviously weathered and old, it is a surprising trick.

  “You will give us away,” she grinds, broken, yellow teeth showing, and filling me with more disgust. “All the efforts I made, all the precautions taken, gone—poof!—just like that, if you can’t keep control of your damn tongue!”

  My back stiffens at the harsh rebuke. I am not used to being spoken to this way.

  “Oh, don’t you dare get any ideas, vampire,” she sneers. “In this realm I have even more power over you than you know, much more than I have on earth.

  “On Earth, I could crush you like a bug.”

  Fury burns inside me. A mere human should never speak to me that way.

  Without even thinking, I reach for the source—and find it barred from me.

  Cierra shows her teeth in a riotous grin. Half-a-second later, a huge blast of energy slams into my chest, sending me flying back.

  I can’t even correct myself mid-flight. Tentacles of Air wrap around my body, wrapping me as if in a straitjacket. I hit the ground hard, and tumble a long way, like a rag doll.

  Cierra is on me again. I have no idea how she’s moving so fast. It’s like she got to me from her original spot without bothering with the intervening space.

  She puts one heel into my chest. I stare at her, hatred boiling. I feel the miasma unleash in my eyes.

  “I don’t need to teach you proper manners again, do I, Logan?” she asks. “You’re letting the Blood Magic get the better of you. That’s the problem with your species. You’re weak. You disgust me, all of you, all of you parasitic things. You think you’re strong, but that is just an elaborate illusion. You’ve been given superior physical powers, but that has made you complacent. The hunt for you is so easy that you’ve lost your skill. Well, I’ll tell you what.”

  She kneels down and brings her face close to mine, age marks and liver spots and wrinkles giving her a horrible visage. “In a war of species as advanced as ours, it is not the strongest who wins, but the most cunning. Brute strength will only be a handicap for you. For it means you’ve neglected your mind. And Blood Magic? Why, it is the most complete test of your mind you will ever get. I’ve been channeling it since I was a girl—do you see the darkness in me? Do you see the miasma staining my eyes? Look, Logan. Look!”

  She brings her face even closer, and I’m forced to stare into her eyes. Unlike the rest of her, they are sharp, clean, pure. Untainted.

  “I know how to bend Blood Magic to my will,” she says. “I’ve shaped it into what I want, I have never let it infect me. That is why I’m better than you, Logan. That is why I will always be. You’ve found access to the dark strain of the Elemental Forces only recently, haven’t you? I suspect it’s been less than a year. And already, you are so far gone, so deeply touched by the taint, that I can see your days numbered.”

  Those roiling, hard, angular, sharp, dark emotions consume me from the inside. All I want to do is see her dead.

  She steps back and regards me with pity. She clicks her tongue. “Oh, I’ve angered you, haven’t I?”

  She sighs. “If I let you go now, the first move you’ll make is to attack me—and that would leave you destroyed.” She looks beyond me. A small smile crawls onto her lips. “There’s a storm coming, Logan,” she says. “Look.”

  Just like that my head is jerked backward, nearly snapping my neck in the process. Goddamn Air!

  In the distance, I see an enormous black cloud of ash, like a sandstorm, sweeping over the plain and barreling toward us.

  My head is twisted back to Cierra.

  “What will it be?” she wonders. “If I release the bonds, will you try your luck? Let’s imagine, for the sake of argument, that you manage to kill me.” She laughs, freely and completely, because of how ludicrous she considers the proposition. “You kill me, and you’re left standing here, in the Demon Realm, with no way of bringing yourself home. Oh, and just you wait until that storm hits—you should see the sorts of demons found inside. They will tear you to shreds in seconds, like piranhas on raw meat.”

  She glances in the direction of the storm again, then, energy sapped, leans heavily onto her walking stick.

  I know now it’s all an act. I know she’s just baiting me—she wants my vampire instincts to take over, she wants to make herself appear vulnerable, and she wants me to lose myself to the Blood Lust, made all the worse by the catalyst of Blood Magic in my mind.

  She wants me to do it because it will give her an excuse to kill me. Without the provocation, she would never go back on our deal.

  And so, with more effort than it should rightfully take, I wrestle away the instinct to attack. Inch by inch, little by little, I pry away its influence over me, until I am simply lying there, bound and angry, but not vindictive.

  “A good choice,” she murmurs, as if she has any idea the magnitude of the internal struggle it took.

  She relaxes the bounds. I have a feeling they lurk just inches away, ready to spring back at any time.

  So I get up very, very slowly, and purposely spread my hands, palms-up, to show her I mean no harm.

  She winks before turning her back. “How frustrating it must be to have yourself put in your place by someone of my appearance, hmm?” she asks.

  “I know my place,” I say through clenched teeth. “Rest assured.”

  “Is that a threat or a concession?” she wonders idly. “If you change your mind, you can always face the storm alone.”

  I come to her side and look down upon her. “We made a deal,” I say, “and I shall honor it.”

  “Good,” she tells me. “We’re almost there, anyway.” She purses her lips in contemplation. “The question is, do we try to make it now, or do we seek refuge from the storm?”

  I take another look over my shoulder. The massive swell is getting larger. I hear the howling wind heralding its arrival.

  “It’ll be on us in minutes,” I say.

  “Sooner,” she tells me. “Distances are warped here. Once the demons driving the storm pick up our scent, they will be on us in seconds.”

  “So then,” I force out, hating losing control of my destiny, “what the hell do we do?”

  Cierra considers the options a few more moments, then nods. “We hunker down,” she says.

  She draws a circle in the ash around us with her walking stick. I stand absolutely still. There’s not much space to mo
ve in the containment.

  The Black Sorceress faces me and says, “Hold out your arms.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

  “Just do it, you fool,” she hisses. “We don’t have much time.”

  With a grimace I do as I’m told. Her hands whip out and grip my forearms. I am surprised by the strength contained in her fingers.

  “Now,” she says, “clear your mind, as best you can. The more stray thoughts remain the tougher this next part will be.”

  I don’t even know what’s happening, I have no agency to affect things.

  I feel like I’m floundering under an influence she should in no way be able to exert over me.

  “My mind is clear,” I tell her, after a conscious effort.

  She quirks an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” She tightens her grip on my arms. It’s like being held by a vice. “You’re the only one who will suffer if you lie.”

  “I’m sure,” I tell her, voice grating through my teeth.

  “Fine,” she says, and a sudden veil of darkness sweeps out from her and engulfs me in full.

  I gasp and instinctually jolt away. Cierra does not let me go. The darkness passes through me, leaving a chilling cold in its wake, and then rebounds into the shape of a sphere bound by the circumference of the mark she’d made in the ash around us.

  I find all my muscles frozen, unable to move. A tightness descends on my chest. It becomes impossible to breathe.

  You’ll survive, her voice sneers in my mind. Just relax. For a vampire so respected, you’re not as sure of yourself as I thought.

  I strain against her hold on me, but I can do nothing.

  The black sphere surrounding us shifts to become semi-transparent. I cannot move a single muscle, but I can shift my eyes.

  I look out past the curvature of the sphere. I’m facing away from the incoming storm. I count down the seconds until it hits…

  A violent shock passes over me, and the sphere warps and bends but does not break. I feel Cierra’s concentration. I know she’s putting in all she has to maintain the ward.

  Not all, she whispers in my mind. I give a start. Can the damn sorceress also read my thoughts?

  It’s the price you pay for your survival, she tells me. Be still. The demons are coming.

  I watch the blistering winds on the outside carry streaks of ash and dust past us. We are isolated in this little bubble from the sounds outside, but I can imagine what they are like from the ferocity of the storm.

  Suddenly, a streak of bright red passes by. My gut clenches automatically. That shocks me, because I haven’t had the fear response, even once, since being made.

  One more red streak goes by. Then another. And one more.

  Without warning, there’s a gaggle of them, blocking out the majority of the black. I cannot distinguish one from the other because they are moving so fast.

  Hold… Cierra’s voice sounds in my mind. Hold!

  I don’t know what I’m doing other than holding.

  There comes an abrupt impact. I feel an outside force slam right into our sphere. The air inside becomes compressed, tight, lacking because of it.

  I realize I have a sense of the protective sphere. And, at the same time, I realize the reason for that is because Cierra is not channeling her magic to protect us—but mine.

  You think I’d expose my full power to you? she cackles.

  Whatever slammed into the ward is crawling forward. I can feel it slinking around to the front. Soon, it will be in my line of sight…

  And then it’s there, and I am at a loss for words—astounded, horrified, disgusted—at how awful it looks.

  It looks like a single severed head with tentacles shooting out from the sides. It is almost like a bug, a spider, but blood red, and without an exoskeleton of any sort. Instead, it is covered in an aged and corroded skin of leather. Two shining black eyes peer right at me. Beneath them is a gaping, snapping mouth. It jerks this way and that, scurrying over the surface of the sphere, and emanating nothing but hate, death, and destruction.

  Usually, I remain unperturbed by such desires. But they come from a much deeper level of consciousness in this thing than they would in anyone else. Those emotions are at the very core of its being, they are the driving force and sole purpose behind its life.

  And then, without warning, a massive claw rips through the air and sweeps the red demon off. The protective globe shakes in the wake of that. My eyes go up, and up, and up.

  I see an enormous beast, roughly in the shape of a bear, but at least five times the size, throw the first demon into its massive jaws and snap them shut.

  Blood squirts out, caught and carried by the unending wind. The bear-esque demon turns in the same direction and lumbers away.

  I catch Cierra looking at me with a glimmer in her eye. What the hell is she laughing at? I never—

  You think these were bad? she asks. Wait until you see the rest.

  An uncomfortable feeling engulfs my stomach. I believe I’m on the verge of passing out.

  No, you don’t, Cierra snarls. She readjusts her grip on me, and a burst of energy shoots through me from our connection. I am jerked wide awake, as if cold water has been thrown over my face.

  You cannot handle seeing them, so look at me! Keep your eyes on me! she commands.

  With a struggle, I rip my gaze away from the sphere and focus on her.

  Good, she says. Then, I’m sorry, but this is the only way you’ll survive.

  An ice-cold whiteness blasts into me. My whole body screams in pain. It is worse than the light from a thousand suns. The pressure builds inside me, and I see no outlet for it, no way to stem the flow. I lose myself to the cold, to the white, to the blistering pain all around me.

  But I do not pass out. I cannot. Something is clinging onto me and keeping me awake, keeping me conscious.

  The respite of unconsciousness is barred from me.

  Time loses meaning. I exist in a void of pain. The bright light battles away at all the areas that make me me—all the aspects that make me whole.

  I can no longer tell up from down nor reach my name. I do not know who I am. I am lost, drowning above to be extinguished whole…

  With a gasp, I come to myself. I am lying face-up on the scorched ground. Cierra looms over me, taking me in with a cynical eye.

  “It’s over,” she says flatly. “The storm has passed.”

  I sit up, dazed. My body feels off, as if it’s not quite my own. I blink a few times, trying to get a sense of my surroundings.

  We’re in approximately the same space as before, I think. This entire damn landscape looks the same.

  “Oh, go ahead, take your time, there is no rush,” Cierra mocks me. “It’s not like we have anywhere to go.”

  I growl and push myself up. The moment I’m upright, the world spins. I have to bring a hand to my head and close my eyes for a moment.

  “I thought you vampires were stronger.” She sighs. “You’re not much used to discomfort, are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I say stiffly. I straighten out, lower my hand, and look to the horizon. Dark mountains rise from the earth far away.

  “I did perhaps pull on more of your abilities than you had to give,” she mutters. “Well, I had to know your baseline strength in this.”

  “You used me as a sock puppet,” I growl.

  Cierra shrugs. “You served the purpose well enough.”

  “Don’t test me, woman,” I grunt. “You’ve pushed me far enough.”

  “Hmph,” she snorts, then turns away and starts walking, relying on that magic stick for support.

  I catch up to her with a few quick steps. We walk for miles in silence. Cierra alone knows the path to our destination.

  We proceed that way for hours, hours in which the burning dual suns illuminating the desolate landscapes do not move one inch through the sky.

  Finally, we reach the base of one of the distant mountains.

  Cierra walks up to the cliff face and
gives it a peculiar rap-rap-rap with her walking stick. I wait, exchanging glances with her. She seems completely at ease in this hostile world.

  After a good long while, the spot she’d struck with her stick flares with sudden blue light. The light expands from the point, out and out, until it forms a portal through the rock.

  Cierra, for once, actually smiles.

  “Your demon army awaits,” she says, gesturing through the opening.

  “Welcome to the black market.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  April

  In the air

  We are in The Order’s private jet, with Smithson at the controls.

  Paolo is sitting across from me. I cannot read him one bit. Once he discovered I converted the woman, he’s gone silent. Nothing at all on his face betrays his thoughts.

  But I feel the judgment of that look acutely.

  Finally, we reach a point where I cannot take it anymore. “What?” I burst out. “What do you want from me? Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “Nothing,” he says, voice flat. “I want nothing, April.”

  “Then why do I feel like you’re trying to get something out of me?”

  “I have no idea what gave you that impression.”

  His indifference is driving me crazy. “Do you want me to apologize? Do you want me to say sorry for making her?”

  I fling a hand back to point at the woman in the red dress. She has a velvet sack over her head, her wrists are bound with silver.

  She sits absolutely still, seemingly resigned to remain in that position for the duration of the flight.

  “I expect no such thing,” Paolo says calmly.

  “Good,” I huff. “Because I won’t give it. You think I’m wrong for bringing her in, I know you do.”

  He spreads his hands. “You told me to find you the most reprehensible human in the city. Had I known you intended to convert your meal, I might have exhibited more discretion.”

  “You don’t understand,” I grate out. “I had to convert her, I could not let somebody like that go to waste!”

  His eyes blaze, and for a second, he is animated. “You did not have to do anything. You made a choice!”