A Taste of Crimson

by E. M. Knight

  My right foot is whole. But the left one is sliced through at the arch, the other half somewhere on the other side of the now-closed portal.

  Blood pours freely from the open wound. The pain from losing half my foot is unbearable.

  But I have no time to waste. I scramble up, cursing when the injury makes me fall as soon as I put weight on the stub.

  The wound keeps bleeding, soaking the ash-black ground with vampire blood.

  I cast a quick look around me to assess the immediate danger. I am in some desolate land, all black ash and distant mountains. The sky is full of stormy cloud cover, but the clouds are all black and red, not unlike the colors of the portal.

  I don’t see Victoria or the other vampire anywhere.

  At least, now, I understand how he was able to get out of the silver bonds without breaking them. He must have cast a precise portal, exactly the dimensions of his body, and fallen through while on the bed.

  That is why I could not sense him when he was gone: he was in this other realm.

  I flare my senses all around me, searching for any other living beings. There is no one. The whole place is abandoned. Victoria is not here.

  By then, the bleeding gets to be too much. The sickness from my magic touching the portal has still not passed, and now it’s compounded by a light-headedness from the blood loss.

  I rip my shirt off, tear it in two, and sit back to wrap the cloth around my foot.

  As I’m doing it, making the bandage tight as can be, I’m struck by the surrealness of the moment.

  I tie off the end of the wrapping and test the hold. It’s good enough. The shirt is quickly soaked through, but the bleeding slows.

  I take a few extra moments on the ground before trying again to stand.

  I wonder how it is the wound is still bleeding. With my healing abilities it should have sealed off quickly. I have no idea if it will ever regenerate—we’re vampires, not salamanders—but the foot should not be bleeding like this, regardless.

  I take a deep breath. Some of the adrenaline has worn off, making me more aware of the severity of the situation.

  We’ve awakened an ancient vampire who can do magic. Not pure magic, like me, but magic of some corrupt disposition.

  One look at the portal was enough to know that.

  And now, here I am, stranded in some other world. Since it obviously is not The Paths, there is only one alternative.

  It is one I do not like to think about in the least:

  I am in the Demon Realm.

  I swallow. Adaptability is one thing, but being thrown into a world teeming with creatures who, by their very nature, are stronger than vampires? Creatures who only know one thing, and that is death?

  My mind throttles back to my last experience with the Narwhark, and how easy it was for it to handle me…

  Well, I can take solace in one thing. I have access to magic now. I reach out for the tightly bound black ball in the back of my mind.

  To my relief, it is still present.

  At the same time, I feel the energy inside fighting so much harder than before to be let out.

  I can’t tell if that’s because the vampiric essence that keeps it contained is now weakened due to blood loss, or if the magical energy has actually become stronger, for whatever reason, in this realm.

  My hope is that it is the latter.

  I look around once more, scanning the empty landscape. The ash-like ground stretches out as far as the eye can see. Nothing breaks up the monotony of the place, except the mountains far, far, far away in the distance.

  Not knowing what else to do, I start limping in their direction. Every other step I take sends searing pain through my leg.

  The only comfort I can take is that the thick cloud cover hides the sun, allowing me to walk without being burned.

  An unexpected rush of despair tries to swallow me up. It blindsides me. I force it down.

  I am never one to feel self-pity. I have no idea where it came from, but it makes me angry, and soon that anger sweeps away any other emotion I feel.

  “I will find you, Victoria,” I swear. “And when I do, I will kill the vampire who stole you here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Raul

  The Haven

  I stand on the edge of The Haven, about to make what might be the worst—or the best—decision of my life.

  “Ready?” Rebecca asks. She has the little torrial, wrapped up in a bit of cloth, in one outstretched hand.

  All I have to do is take it, link hands with her, and walk through to the other side.

  I hesitate. All I’ve ever done has been for the good of The Haven. I tried to lead my life in a way to make Mother proud. I put on one hell of a farce, pretending it was what I enjoyed, but the dissonance about that has never gone away.

  Now, for the first time in a long time, I have the ability to act in my own self-interest.

  The proposition is so novel that, I have to admit, it sits badly with me.

  I look at the woman who for so long I thought was dead.

  The woman who, in my eyes, is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

  “Yes,” I say, and unwrap the torrial then clasp it between our linked hands.

  “There’s no coming back, you know,” Rebecca says. “Once we leave, we have to make our own way in the world. Only after you’ve found yourself, and become the vampire you are meant to be, can you think of returning.”

  I glance at her sideways. “Why are you telling me this? You want to talk me out of it?”

  She laughs, a delightful laugh that makes my spirit soar.

  “I’m not talking you out of it, Raul. I am just emphasizing that the choice is yours. The first one made on your own. I am not pushing you to do it. You make up your own mind, and you follow through.” She gives my hand a little squeeze. “You have to be sure of that. Otherwise our relationship will fall through.”

  “I’m sure,” I tell her, and look straight ahead. “Let’s go.”

  We walk forward together. As we reach the edge, I tense, expecting… something.

  But the moment we walk through the invisible barriers and step through to the other side… nothing happens.

  I was awaiting a chill, a shiver, something… yet the symbolic closing of my old way of life is utterly unremarkable.

  I look over my shoulder—and see a forest full of trees, not the clearing we had just left.

  I let go of Rebecca’s hand.

  “We’re out,” I say.

  She smiles, and I see something change in her eyes. For one sinking moment, I think she is about to betray me…

  “You made the right choice,” she says, and goes up on her toes to leave a quick kiss on my lips.

  That awakens all sorts of latent emotions. I grab her by the waist and pull her into me, kissing her hard. She presses her body against mine, enjoying the eruption of passion just as much as I am.

  After a few seconds of that, she breaks away. “There’s no time now,” she says. “We have to get as far from here as possible. While we’re still in the woods bordering The Haven, we are sitting ducks. If the Queen sends anybody after us, our presence will make us easy to find.” She looks at the torrial. “Unless we use this.”

  “Felix said its power is drained quickly. Let’s use it only as a last resort. We’re not being followed yet.”

  “Where to, my Prince?”

  I look west. “We have to make it to the nearest city. There, at least, we will be hidden amongst the masses.”

  “Now you’re thinking,” she says.

  A new thought occurs to me. Rebecca has not been outside for hundreds of years. She has no idea how far civilization has advanced.

  “Just wait until you see all that humans have done to the world while you were in exile,” I tell her, a grin spreading across my face. “It’s like nothing you can imagine.”

  “In that case,” she says with a coy smirk, “there’s no one I’d like more to experience it
with than you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Eleira

  The Haven’s Apartments

  The moment we enter my apartment, Allura snaps to attention.

  “Rebecca’s gone,” she tells me.

  I look at her. “What?”

  “Just before she left with Raul, I put a small tracer on her. I did not think she could be trusted. Just a few minutes ago, I felt her step over the boundary of The Haven.”

  I eye Allura warily. “You put a tracker on her without telling me?”

  “Would you rather I hadn’t?” she snaps. “Raul is linked to Phillip, and both of them rely on the link we cast between them to survive. The same tracking spell is on the two Soren brothers. It’s necessary to keep them alive.”

  I shake my head. “She couldn’t have left. I would have felt the disturbance in the wards.”

  “It’s not only her, Eleira,” she says. “Raul is gone, too.”

  A black void opens in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I’ve been punched.

  “What?”

  “They went together, my Queen.”

  “He left The Haven without telling me…?” I say in wonder.

  Morgan comes up beside me. “My sons all have a rebellious streak,” she offers. “I tried to tame it for as long as I could. Eventually, such things break.”

  “Assemble the guards,” I say. “Get Geordam and the others. They must bring them back.”

  “I would not be so quick to do that if I were you, my Queen,” Morgan says.

  I turn on her. “Why? Rebecca committed crimes against The Haven. Raul knew that, and he helped her escape. He is guilty as an accomplice.”

  “Yes, of course, laws are laws,” Morgan murmurs. “But punishment may be delayed.”

  “Why would I just let them go?” I ask. “To what end?”

  Morgan looks at Allura. “She said she had a tracking spell on them both. That means we are at no risk of losing them. We should wait, see where they go, see what they do. They do not know they are being tracked.”

  “That’s true,” I consider.

  “Besides, I know my son. He would not be turned against you.” Morgan gives a warm smile. “You remember how he fought for you against me and Phillip.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I mutter. “There are still things you are accountable for.”

  “And I take full responsibility,” she says. She glides away, stopping at the window. “Besides, with the growing threat, we can ill afford to send our best warriors outside.”

  “If they go now, Geordam and his men can quickly overtake Raul and Rebecca.” I glance at Allura. “If you go with them, you can lead them to them right away.”

  Allura bows her head. “Of course.”

  “I would still advise against it, my Queen,” Morgan says. By now it doesn’t feel at all incongruent to hear her call me that. “You’ve experienced first-hand how crafty Rebecca can be. Yet you know she harbors no ill will toward either you or The Haven. It’s me she has an issue with.”

  “So?” I ask.

  “So, I do not think you are in any danger by having her let out. Raul will eventually find his way back. Of that I am certain. If you leash them both in now, all you gain is more resentment. But let them go and allow them to return of their own free will…” She shrugs. “You can position yourself as a gracious, merciful ruler. When Raul returns, you will have every right to expel him permanently, or imprison him, or any other dozen punishments you can think of. But since we all know you want him here, we can use that to your advantage. Have him come, have him beg, and then you can show your mercy. You position yourself in a much better light that way. If you drag him back now, kicking and screaming, you exert your power, yes, but you do not gain any other benefit.” She looks me right in the eyes. “This way you are two steps ahead.”

  I look at her in momentary disbelief. “Are you always so scheming?”

  She laughs. “Such strategies are necessary to maintain control. Power alone makes you a tyrant. Better maneuver to accomplish the same thing while appearing a friend of the people.”

  I shake my head slightly. “I guess this is what Felix meant when he spoke of politics,” I mutter.

  At that moment, a loud banging sounds on the door. My head whips that way. I ease up the spell keeping it locked and let the guard posted outside peek in.

  “Felix is here,” he says. “He comes with urgent news.”

  “Speak of the devil,” I say. “Okay, let him in.”

  The guard gives me a formal bow and retreats. A few moments later, he leads an anxious-looking Felix inside.

  “My Queen, I come with grave news,” he says. “Rebecca and Raul are gone.”

  I feign a look of surprise. The other women in the room stay silent.

  “Gone?” I ask.

  He nods. “I caught word of them sneaking around The Haven. I don’t know what they were up to, so I decided to follow them, unseen. I trailed them all the way to the edge of The Haven. There, I overheard them talking of ‘the rightful Queen’. I’m sorry to say, I do not believe they were talking about you.”

  I raise my eyebrows slightly. I do not believe a word coming out of his mouth.

  “And?” I ask.

  Felix, caught off-guard by my lack of reaction, quickly backpedals. “I don’t mean to accuse them of anything. You know the Prince more… intimately… than I do.” He clears his throat. “But Rebecca is clearly treasonous. You are the one who saved us from her army—an army she meant to use to destroy us all.”

  “If they left, it means two less problems to deal with,” I say obliquely. “I’m much obliged to you for sharing the information, Felix. You may go.”

  “M-my Queen?” he stutters. “Shouldn’t we be doing something about—”

  “I said, you may go,” I cut in.

  I flick a tiny bit of influence his way.

  Immediately, he ducks his head and mutters, “As you wish.”

  He backs out through the door. I seal the room again.

  “Be careful with him,” Morgan says. “He is not of our tribe. He has always struck me as duplicitous.”

  I look at the Forsaken Sisters. “Felix said he knew you from before. He told me while you were held. But there’s no warmth between you and him.”

  Sute answers. “When we made our pilgrimage to the Demon Realm, we cast aside all former ties. We made our allegiance only to the Chosen One from prophecy.”

  “But you do know him?” I ask.

  “Yes. But the relationship holds no meaning.”

  I turn to Morgan. “Felix had been trying to work his way into my favor. It’s more than just wanting to be aligned with the Queen. I found the tactic transparent, repulsive, and very underhanded. Now you say you think him two-faced. Why? And, furthermore, why have you kept him around and let him run free? We all know how you dealt with even potentially treasonous behavior in the past.”

  Morgan exhales heavily. “I’ve kept him around, my Queen, precisely because of those reasons. He thinks himself cunning, as you said. But his true desires are betrayed by his obsequious conduct.” She gestures at the Sisters. “He is also a vampire from before my time. I suspect he has had hundreds of years in the blood before I was turned. He always claimed to have been made just a few years prior to me… but I never believed that tale.”

  “He can also do magic,” I say. “Did you know that?”

  “He has some trifling ability, yes. It cannot be developed.”

  “What makes you think he is so old?” I wonder.

  “Because I’ve been monitoring his strength from the day we met. It’s not quite static, but its progression has been much, much slower than what I’ve seen in our vampires. If a vampire progressed naturally, there are always periods of rapid growth, followed by long stagnation. Felix has not once had the rapid spurt. It makes me suspect he has always been holding back, not drinking the blood he was given, in order to plateau at one level. It’s not unlike what Phillip did h
is entire life. The difference being that Felix reached the level he is currently at, and then made a conscious decision to stop. Until I could figure out why, I would not do anything to jeopardize that. Besides, he has proved to be a well of knowledge. He tries to play it off as things he has learned from his books, but my suspicion is that it is ancient knowledge he’s doled out, very slowly, at just a trickle, over the years.”

  “Do you consider him dangerous?” I ask.

  Morgan shrugs. “You feel that he is near the top of the strength hierarchy already. If I were a regular vampire, then yes, I would be concerned. If he is holding back, it means at any moment he can down the blood he needs to unleash his true strength. But my advantage—and yours—lies with our gift for the Elemental Forces. Even if Felix could hypothetically surpass us as vampires, we would strike him down with magic.”

  I’m not a fan of how easily Morgan has shifted the narrative to being one of “us.” She’s been out of her coma for less than a day, and already the familiarity is too much.

  She walks to the sofa and takes a seat. “Your intuition is very good, Eleira, to have caught all that about him.”

  I roll my shoulders. It’s not exactly comforting to know that my suspicions about Felix are right.

  “He did not look very happy at your impassive reaction to the news,” Sute observes. “It seems like he wants to use it to gain your favor.”

  “Obviously,” I say. “The question is, what do we do about it?” I look about the room. “Or if it’s even worth consideration. Allura, Lorne, Sute, I need to speak with you, in private.” I address Allura. “When I was down there, I saw a terrible vision. I don’t know if it was a glimpse of the future, or not. Regardless, I’ll tell you, and based on that, I’ll need your and your Sisters’ advice on how best to prepare for the future.”

  “You already know how,” Allura says. “You need to use the Book of the Dead—”

  “To summon a demon, I know, I know.” I cut her off. “But I keep thinking there must be another way. I’ve seen what those creatures are capable of. They cannot be tamed or trusted.”

  “You don’t need to tame them,” Allura says. “All you have to do is exert control.”