Wards of Night

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by E. M. Knight


  I start to get up but he points a finger at me. He’s doing everything he can to not look my way.

  “Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t move. You don’t know —” he grunts. “You don’t know… how hard… this is for me!”

  I can almost laugh at the absurdity of the admission. Hard for him? What about me? I haven’t the slightest clue of what’s going on!

  Except, of course, that I’ve landed somewhere far, far outside my element.

  Suddenly he turns around. With exaggerated effort he walks to the door. Every single step looks like it’s made with a hundred pound backpack strapped to his back.

  I reach for the bracelet on my ankle and tug on it, then start to pick myself up —

  “No!” Raul almost screams. He flings an arm over his shoulder and again points at me. “Don’t move!”

  I freeze. He can’t see me. How did he know? Step by agonizing step he walks to the door. I watch him, unsure whether to be more wary around him or James. Raul saved me — I think — but that doesn’t mean anything if he breaks down now.

  He reaches the spot where the panels slide open. His fingers search the smooth glass. “Dammit, James,” he mutters under his breath. “Dammit! Damn you and your tricks!”

  I cry out in alarm when he raises a fist and slams it against the glass. There’s so much force behind the blow that the whole outer structure shakes.

  What kind of man is he?

  But the glass doesn’t break or shatter or crack. Raul hits it again. The dome trembles. Still, the door doesn’t open. Still, he’s trapped inside with me.

  “Come on, Phillip,” he mutters. “Come on, come on. You know what this torture is like…”

  I’m afraid of saying anything lest I draw his ire. But I can’t just sit still. I need answers. I have questions. And I —

  I don’t get to make good on any of it. A crack appears in the panes, and the two halves start to part. As soon as the barest sliver of space is visible, Raul squeezes himself through.

  This is my chance, I think. I grit my teeth against my body’s weakness and make a dash for the door.

  I don’t even get a quarter of the way there before the mechanism reverses, and the doors seal shut. Despair wells up inside — and then I remember the bracelet and the link.

  I couldn’t have gotten out even if the doors had remained open.

  Chapter Four

  JAMES

  I lie back in my bed, a smirk playing across my lips. I let out a long, satisfied breath and cross my arms behind my head.

  A few moments later a pretty blonde emerges from under the sheets. She sidles up higher and snuggles close to me. She runs a hand over my bare chest.

  I almost pull away, but I have the presence of mind to remain still. I’ve never liked these little displays of affection after the act.

  But April is important to me, in more ways than I can count… yet none of them at all in the way she hopes.

  “So,” she says. “Did that make you feel better after the confrontation with your brothers? I don’t know why Morgan makes you treat them as equals when you’re clearly better… smarter… more handsome…”

  She starts to kiss my jaw, but I turn away.

  “Queen,” I say lazily. “You will refer to her as Queen.”

  April pouts in a way she thinks softens my heart. In truth, I’d be hard pressed to think of an expression more repulsive. It really does make her look like the simpering eighteen-year-old she is.

  “But there’s nobody else around, my prince,” she says. “Surely in private I can call your mother —”

  “By her proper title,” I cut in. I grab April’s wrist and bring it to my face. My eyes focus on the nearly translucent, throbbing vein on the underside.

  She sucks in a breath. I can feel the fear in her. And, of course, the anticipation.

  “Do you…” her voice quivers. She puts on a good show of acting confident when outside the bedroom, but I know it all for just a mask. “Do you still need a drink? After…” she swallows, and I can almost hear the tears building beyond her eyes. “After all that we did?”

  “Mhmm,” I say, lazy, teasing. I feel her pulse quicken, and I know she’s truly afraid.

  I love playing these sort of games with her.

  “A drink, a drink, a drink, a drink…” I say.

  “If you must do it then do it quick,” she bursts out. “Please, James…”

  I release her. “No,” I say. “I find I’m not thirsty after all.”

  She heaves out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God —”

  “I prefer something much closer to the source,” I snarl, and force myself onto her, exposing her neck. She cries out, but my lips are already peeled back, and I sink my fangs deep into her carotid arteries, the one that pumps fresh blood right out of her heart.

  My hand flies over her mouth and stifles her screams as I draw the blood out of her. Sweet, sweet girl, I think. Aside from the screams she doesn’t fight back.

  When I’ve had my fill — but still nowhere close to enough, given how much Eleira’s scent has awakened my cravings — I let April go. Her hands dart to her neck as she tries to stem the blood flow. But the wound will heal on its own before she has a chance to bandage it. I made sure of that, by injecting the serum as I withdrew.

  “Look, darling,” I say. I pull her hands away and spread them in front of her face. “You’re not even bleeding. Imagine that!”

  “Th — thank you,” she stutters.

  I scoff a cruel laugh. “Now go on, get out of here. The other humans will start wondering where you’ve been for so long.”

  She stammers a few more platitudes as she hitches out of bed. She knows how close I came to taking her life.

  But she also knows, I assume, that such is the risk of bedding a vampire.

  I watch her cute backside as she goes. Just before she closes the door, I add, with a winning wink, “Not a word of this to anyone, my dear.”

  She bobs her head up and down, meek and drained of blood now, and closes the door.

  I take a few more minutes to myself before standing up and stretching wide.

  Today, April… and tomorrow, Eleira, I think.

  At least… if my two brothers don’t get in my way.

  Chapter Five

  RAUL

  I’m furious as I stalk down the walkway. For James to tempt me like that, and then leave me alone in there, with her —

  I close my eyes and shudder. It took all the self-control I possessed not to feed. Her blood called out to me like a black-veiled siren in the night. It was unlike anything I’d ever sensed before.

  No wonder Mother warned us.

  But she also made it absolutely clear that Eleira was not to be harmed. If we are going to use her for the succession, she has to be pure, untouched, untarnished.

  A growl comes from deep in my throat. James knows her worth and value as well as I. For him to flaunt her like that…

  Anger bubbles up inside. If it wasn’t for Phillip seeing my struggle through the camera and opening the door, I don’t know what I’d have done. Six hundred years of waiting would be ruined, and for what? For my older brother to play his sadistic, twisted game?

  No… no, I won’t let him catch me off guard again. He may have been turned before me, he might have had those extra four years of human life before we were made into these forever-damned creatures, but that does not mean he holds authority over me.

  The only reason he thinks he does is the respect I’ve given him over the long, long centuries.

  “Raul!” Phillip exclaims when I enter the surveillance room. “I’m sorry, I would have opened the door sooner, but James, he —”

  “Save it.” I shake my head. “You don’t owe me an explanation for anything. We both know what a brat James really is.”

  Phillip’s eyes go wide. Of the three of us, he has always been the least comfortable with our vampire nature. He’d even gone so far as to renounce drinking all human blood, wh
en he realized he could exist solely on animal blood, about six centuries ago.

  But that conversion had stunted his growth. Whereas James and I continued to get stronger with every passing year — as did all of our coven vampires — Phillip remained trapped as he was at the switch. That explains his deference to us.

  Vampires are hierarchical creatures. The only thing that catapults one above another is the strength of their supernatural abilities. Not intellect, not social savvy, not age — just pure, raw, strength.

  The fact that James and I are neck-and-neck doesn’t help distinguish who should lead one bit.

  I collapse on the seat beside Phillip. I can sense his unease, being on the same level as me. Those same natural instincts dictate that weaker vampires should always occupy space lower than stronger vampires.

  But he is my brother, and I’ve always made a point of showing him that I won’t forget that.

  “Anyway,” Phillip clears his throat. “What are we going to do about —” His eyes go to the screen. “Her?”

  I look up and see the human girl slumped over in the middle of the room. Her shoulders are shaking. Is she crying?

  “Damn, I thought she’d be stronger than that,” I mutter.

  “She’s been through a lot,” Phillip says. “Probably traumatized…”

  I give a sour chuckle. “And she hasn’t even seen the start of it. Wait!” I go rigid. “Zoom in, zoom in, she’s not crying!”

  Phillip adjusts the camera.

  “She’s shivering!” I exclaim. “Damn, how cold is it in that room? She still has human blood in her, remember?”

  Phillip’s eyes widen with realization. He plays with the controls on the computer. “It’s, uh —” he swallows. “35 degrees.”

  “That’s frigid for a human!” I say. “No wonder she’s… damn, just blast the heat!”

  My eyes stay glued to the screen as I watch the girl. I wait and wait as the furnace kicks in. And — to my delight — Eleira unfolds like a blossoming flower as the temperature creeps up.

  “That,” I say finally, “was a glaring oversight.”

  “Or,” Phillips considers, “maybe it wasn’t. James was in here and did something behind my back when I wasn’t paying attention. He may have done that on purpose.”

  I shake my head, both in annoyance and disgust. “He wants to break her.”

  “I know,” Phillips agrees.

  “He’s twisting the orders we got like the worm that he is.” I surge up. “If he thinks this is just another game…” I feel my aggression rising. “If he thinks that I’ll stand for this…”

  Phillip blinks at me. “You’d go against him? For some girl?”

  “She’s not some girl,” I correct. “You know just as well as I do how important she will be.”

  “She might be,” Phillip interjects. “We’re still not sure if she’s the one.”

  I give him a hard look. “Trust me, Phillip,” I say softly. “If you had been in that room instead of me, you’d have no doubt. She is the one.”

  Chapter Six

  ELEIRA

  The sudden heat blasting from the ducts around the room surprises me. Nonetheless, I’m grateful.

  I thought they’d meant for me to freeze to death in here.

  After James and Raul left, I tried my hardest to take off the bracelet. But whatever strength was left in my arms was not enough. If I had a sharp object, maybe I could slip it underneath and…

  But, no. No good wishing for things that don’t exist.

  The encounter with the two men has left me shaken. Now I know who my captors are, and I’ve never seen them before.

  I’m sure if I had so much as glimpsed James or Raul in the student body at Stanford, I would have remembered them. They are both very distinctive.

  Anxious hours pass as I rack my brain for a way out. I don’t see it. The circular dome is extraordinarily strong. Even if I had a piece of furniture to throw at it to break the glass, I know it wouldn’t work. I saw how hard Raul had hit it, and the effect it had: none.

  Besides, with the string linked to the bracelet around my ankle, I can’t pass the circumference of the room anyway.

  All I have to help guide me are my memories. But they’re not worth jack. It’s like a block had been put up on events that transpired after I set up in the library. When I try to think of them, all that comes is that flash of red — and a dull pain in the side of my neck.

  I crane my head this way and that and hear my spine crack. The strange bump is almost all gone. I wonder what caused it. The way the two men spoke, I can almost believe the most ridiculous thing:

  A bite, from a…

  Vampire.

  I shudder and shake my head. No. No, that’s not possible. I’m just letting childhood fantasies get the best of me. Vampires don’t exist. The supernatural isn’t real. Whoever is doing this to me is just having a grand time feeding into my fears.

  And yet… A memory of a long-forgotten summer comes to me.

  I’m seven. Or maybe eight. My best friend Michael and I are exploring the woods. My dad took us up here, to a remote cabin in the Northern reaches of British Columbia, for a week in the summer. Michael’s mom is here, too, but not my own. His dad stayed home as well.

  There’s a lake close to the cabin. Dad’s out fishing on a little boat. He sees me and Michael run along the shore. He waves at us.

  “Where you going, princess?” He calls out.

  “Michael said he found something cool in the woods!” I exclaim. “We’re going to go see!”

  My dad laughs. “Don’t stray far. There’s bears and wolves and all sorts of wild animals out there.”

  “I know, I know,” I say.

  Michael tugs my shoulder. “Come on,” he urges.

  I laugh with him and speed away.

  Once we’re hidden from view, Michael turns on me. “Are there really wild animals?” he asks, a bit meekly.

  I giggle. “Look around, dummy. Do you see any?”

  He shakes his head. Michael’s always been the cautious one, whereas I was more impetuous.

  “Dad’s just kidding,” I assure him. “Animals don’t come out around humans. They’re scared of us.”

  Michael blinks. “Really?” he asks.

  “Well, duh. Especially during the day. Now come on, what did you want to show me?”

  That gets his excitement back. “It’s just over this hill,” he points.

  I nod, and we both race there, not caring how dirty our feet get in the mud from last night’s rain.

  We top the crest. “There,” Michael points.

  Far away, past the overgrown bushes and shrubs, is an enormous stump of a tree. The top is blackened and charred, as if it’d been hit by lightning.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  His eyes twinkle with newfound mischief. “You’ll see.” He grabs my hand. “Come on!”

  We reach the stump. It doesn’t look so special, aside from being big. Really big, like you could fit a family of gnomes inside.

  I giggle at the thought.

  “Here,” Michael leads me to the other side. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

  When I see it, I gasp. There are all sorts of strange markings on the wood. They look like ancient symbols.

  Below them, there’s a tunnel that leads into the earth.

  I give a cry of surprise when Michael drops down and starts to crawl through. I thought I was supposed to be the reckless one.

  “Where are you going?” I hiss. I know Daddy would be mad if he found out what we were doing.

  “Relax,” Michael says with a strange sense of authority. “I’ve been here before. Inside is something really, really cool, I promise!”

  That’s pretty much all the convincing I need. I get on my hands and knees and follow him.

  “It’s dark,” I say as we crawl.

  “I know,” he answers. “That’s why I brought this.”

  A flashlight comes to life in his hands
.

  Suddenly Michael disappears. But then his face pops up in front of me, illuminated by the light. “We’re here.”

  He helps me down, out of the tunnel.

  We’re in… some type of room. An underground cavern. The walls are made of packed dirt and rocks. The floor is tough mud. There’s a little table, and an old — a really old — rocking chair in one corner.

  I get goosebumps. “What is this place?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Michael says. “But I don’t think anyone’s been here in years.”

  He pauses for effect.

  “I don’t like it,” I say. “Why’d you bring me here?” There’s something about the room that feels very much off. It gives bad vibes.

  “Look!” Michael exclaims. He rushes forward, leaving me in the dark. I stumble after him, not wanting to show him I’m scared, but not wanting to be left alone, either.

  He shines the light on a trapdoor in the floor. He motions for me to lift it.

  “Michael, I don’t think we should…”

  “What, are you chicken or something?” He asks.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “No,” I say. “But —”

  “Bwack, bwack, bwack,” he interrupts, making the appropriate chicken clucks. “Bwack bwack bwack bwack. Eleira’s nothing more than one big chicken!”

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll help. But after this, we’re going back out.”

  Michael grins. “Deal.”

  It takes some effort but we manage to lift the trap door. I cough when a mix of dust and mold puffs out.

  Michael shines his light down through the opening. There are stairs.

  He looks at me. “Ready?” he asks.

  Reluctantly, I nod.

  He hesitates for a moment, then sticks out his hand. “So you don’t get scared and run away,” he explains.

  I huff, but in truth, I’m grateful. I take his hand.

  Together, we make our way down.

  The steps are made of stone. They go a long way. At the bottom, they level out to a flat, smooth floor. It’s made of the same river stones, polished and sanded and pressed together.

 

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