“I heard that makers wanted to train their own turns,” Clyde mentions as he waves to the curious students. Several of them are already packing for their trip to Nytefall, their excitement filling the air with energy. “I’m sure you’ll get a few students from time to time. Part of the problem might be you claiming neutrality in the war with Xavier. Many think that’s worse than picking a side, so they want to distance themselves. At the very least, they expect you to be attacked one day and that would cost them their turns.”
“As if I could pick between my son and daughter,” the gnome admits with a half-hearted smile. He takes a seat next to a spinning lantern that he lazily tinkers with until one of the frozen flames changes from yellow to blue. “You know my stance on this whole civil war. I warned you it was possible and told you to finish it quickly even if it meant going against your desire to have some childish fun. Now, we’re nearing two decades of battles, which worries me. An extended conflict increases the chance of the Dawn Fangs being exposed and that poses a danger to both species. Don’t think I’m blaming you entirely though. Xavier and Nadia put up those wards around Nyte, which makes this a bigger mess. Anyway, I doubt you came here for an old man’s lecture. What’s on your mind?”
“I’d rather talk about this in private.”
“Doubting your leadership abilities, problems with Mab, or something that requires ointment?”
“Yes, I think I cleared that hurdle, and that joke still isn’t funny.”
“Be thankful it’s still a joke.”
Gregorio escorts his guest to a door that is smaller than the others and has no handle. The gnome creates a ball of fire in his palm and adds specks of various elements to give it a rainbow shimmer. Pressing the unique spell against the charred wood causes the hidden locks to open and he leads the way into his private bedroom. The smell of fresh fruit strikes their noses, the delicious aroma wafting off two tall baskets in the back corners. Taking a seat on the unmade bed, Gregorio waves at a plush chair that is covered in scrolls. He clears his throat when the papers are callously pushed to the floor, the noise causing Clyde to sigh and go about picking up the mess. Rolling towards his pillows, the gnome comes up on his feet and reaches into one of the baskets to pull out a cantaloupe. He takes a bite without removing the rind and swallows the seeds while watching his son straighten up the messy room. Not wanting to lose the unexpected maid service, Gregorio remains silent and waits for Clyde to finally realize that he is picking up more scrolls than he had thrown on the floor.
“You really are easily distracted these days,” the gnome says before tossing the other Dawn Fang a satchel of blood. Taking a goblet from a nearby ice chest, he dips his finger into the crimson slurry and takes a taste. “I’ve told you every time you worry and wander over here to stop doubting yourself. Nobody is born knowing how to be a leader and you have eternity to figure it out. Gauge how people react to your decisions and adjust accordingly. Remember that the reason Lord Tempest lost all of you is because he focused solely on his own thoughts and desires. This led to paranoia and an act of betrayal, which is unforgivable. It’s an easy trap for you to avoid since you’ve been on the opposite end of that scenario. Besides, Mab and the others would never let you go too far.”
“Going too far is what I’m afraid of right now,” Clyde admits before taking a drink. Not in the mood for blood, he puts the satchel on a dresser and checks for pears in the nearest fruit basket. “Not sure if you’ve heard of what’s going on out there, but we might have a rogue Dawn Fang on our hands. It isn’t the first time and I usually know what to do. Find the person and kill them in Nytefall while Chastity does her thing to keep us hidden. This time the situation isn’t so clear cut. The Dawn Fang is a girl named Lost who seems to have been turned and immediately abandoned. She only recently learned the name for what she is after stumbling into Bob. There’s this army of enhanced mortals after her, but we’ve also received reports of Xavier’s people disappearing. She is involved somehow and the laws I made say she should be executed if she puts us at risk. Until now, the perpetrators have always done so on purpose or with a prior knowledge of the rules. Lost is acting in innocent ignorance, which is why Mab and Bob say I shouldn’t kill her.”
“Come closer for my opinion,” the inventor whispers with a gentle wave. Chuckling at how his son stays away, he reveals the condensed gale in his hand. “Didn’t think that would work, but you can’t deny that a smack to the head works for you. How can you be this stubborn and stupid at the same time? You practically told me the answer. This Lost is different than previous troublemakers because she doesn’t know any better. So, you need to find her and teach her the right way to live, which you already knew. If you didn’t then you wouldn’t have wasted time coming here. Instead, you would be hunting her down before she gets in more trouble. Why do you think showing leniency on this one Dawn Fang is a difficult decision?”
Leaning against the wall, the black-haired vampire feels relaxing tremors ripple through the warm stone. “Because if I’m nice to one person then others will expect the same treatment and I could lose control of Nytefall. They can point to Lost and claim that I’m playing favorites or use her as a sign that I’m getting soft. Someone could rise up to take my place, which means an internal conflict that . . . Why are you putting a night cloak on?”
“I am mourning the death of my favorite son,” Gregorio whispers as he pulls the cowl over his head. Letting the silence linger for a minute, the old vampire has trouble hiding his fang-bearing grin. “You sound like every influence-obsessed, power-hoarding noble that I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Go back to your roots, kid, and remember when you ran a gang with enough flexibility to make it a family. Sure, you need some people to fear you, but those are going to be far and few between. They’ll also be easy to find because idiots tend to stand out in the open. Most of them will be nothing more than easily deflated blowhards who you can get in line with a few smacks to the head and some mercy. As far as Lost goes, use her as a lesson without killing her.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Clyde admits before darting forward to take the gnome’s night cloak away. The room is coated in golden energy and he feels himself weaken, the stiffness in his limbs making him growl. “I hate it when you put up that barrier. It doesn’t remove my powers like the others, but it drains me, which feels worse. Drop it and I’ll figure the puzzle out for myself. Thanks . . . Planning a heist is easier than this. Lost could be held up as example of why Dawn Fangs need to care for their turns, especially if they’re not going to use you as a training center. That’s all I can figure out because I don’t even know the girl. How can I make a decision on someone I never met?”
“If you’re going to ask yourself the important questions then you don’t need me.”
“Did I waste my time with this visit?”
“Spending time with me is never a waste, foolish brat.”
With a smile, Clyde takes the bag of vanilla beans out of his pocket and tosses them to Gregorio. No longer feeling rushed or pressured, the Dawn Fang pulls a chair closer to the bed and swings his legs to put his feet on the mattress. A gust of wind spins him and he ends up putting his single dirty boot and grubby heel on top of a high dresser. Being so close to the furniture, Clyde is unable to keep his balance and topples backwards. His hands hit the floor with enough force to shake the entire lair and he gracefully flips to his feet.
“Progenitor of the Dawn Fangs or not, you mind your manners when you’re a guest, youngster,” Gregorio says with a warm smirk.
4
Stephanie stands in Nadia’s private quarters, which have been filled with strength-sapping sunlight. The old-world vampire winces and growls at the sensation of weakness that runs through her muscles. Her tail hangs limp behind her and its heaviness threatens to pull down her ankle-length dress. The garment is not as fancy as those in the closet behind her, but it is still an odd choice considering she is busy cleaning the room. Having told the servan
ts to leave the work to her, Stephanie goes back to toiling in the sunlight. Straightening the papers on the office desk is an exhaustive challenge, which requires that she lean against the cushioned chair while sipping at a pouch of blood. The vampiric calico runs a hand through her violet hair and scowls at the clump that comes off in her fingers. She reaches up to touch her scalp, which is throbbing from her pushing her body beyond its limits. Unable to withstand the discomfort any longer, she steps into the shadows of a tall cabinet and reattaches the knotted tress. Stephanie attempts to continue her cleaning, but she finds that her legs refuse to obey her commands. The gasping vampire surrenders to her body and collapses into the faint darkness, which allows her to gradually regain her strength. With a sigh of defeat, she slips on a diamond ring and presses her thumb against the pointy top to give the relic a few drops of her blood.
“Resistance to sunlight can’t be achieved through exposure,” Stephanie whispers into the gem. Gesturing for a wind spell, she pulls a night cloak to her, but lets it flop to the floor at her feet. “In fact, pushing myself to endure began either a rotting or aging process. I don’t wish to see the end result because Lady Nadia still needs me. This failure makes it even more apparent that I’m too weak to be of any real help. It is also clear that the secret to becoming a Dawn Fang is in the blood, but the few I have experimented on have not had the potency of Clyde. There is no chance of me capturing him and the vial I had has been destroyed as per the request of Lord Tempest. I feel like I gave up too easily, but I can’t disobey such orders. Not if they would result in my destruction or exile, which means Lady Nadia will not have me by her side. For now, I will have to be patient and-”
“Why are you talking to your jewelry?” a voice asks from the top of the cabinet. Hooking her legs on a torch sconce, Lost dangles off the furniture and flashes a crooked smile at the startled woman. “You’re not like me. Oh, you’re one of the relic types that go wimpy in the sunlight. I thought all of you were dead or hiding, but you’re all here. Weird that my father is lord of a city of weaker vampires. You smell like old blood and licorice, but you’re not wearing socks, so you’re good.”
“Who are you and how did you get into my master’s office?” the ritualist asks when she regains her senses. Leaving the shadows, she sees that the front door is still closed and locked, but one of the windows is open. “You climbed the wall and came in through a window? That doesn’t make any sense. Nyte has wards to prevent unaffiliated Dawn Fangs from entering the city. I know you’re not one of our people, so you should have been destroyed the instant you tried to get inside. Why can’t I sense the wards anymore?”
“They may have popped when I poked at them,” Lost sheepishly admits as she drops to the floor. Scooping up the night cloak, she offers it to the cautious woman and tries to bow on one leg without toppling over. “I didn’t mean to break anything. It happened and I couldn’t put them back together. There were a lot of soldiers coming through the front door of the castle too. Last thing I wanted to do was get in the way of their fun, so I went looking for another door. This one looked easy to get to. By the way, my name is Lost and I’m searching for my father. A priestess told me he could be in Nyte.”
Pulling her night cloak tight around her body, Stephanie moves to the other side of the desk and inches towards the door. “You have to be mistaken. None of the Dawn Fangs in Nyte would dare to turn someone. Even the Lord and Lady have refused to create children because they see their condition as unnatural. This is why they deny my desire to change. Please leave and I will pretend that this never happened. After all, you seem like a nice child, who is simply confused and ignorant of the world.”
“Why are you scared of me?”
“If you are not one of our people then you must work for Clyde.”
“That the mean guy who kills all who oppose him?”
“So, you do know him.”
“No, but that would explain why you’re so scared.”
“It’s more that there is a strange girl in my master’s room and I’m still weak.”
“I get it now . . . You’re too tired to answer my questions, so I’ll do it myself.”
Before she can react, Stephanie is paralyzed by a psychic strike that peels the top layer of her thoughts away. The intrusion is painless and there is an odd bliss that starts to consume the vampire’s mind, but she musters enough energy to fight back. With a giggle, Lost playfully vaults over the desk and shoves back with another mental blast that comes with the smell of fresh blueberries. The blow is enough to make the experienced ritualist’s nose bleed and she retaliates with a whispered spell that smacks her attacker with a hand of force. Regaining some control of her body, Stephanie is about to cast an acid blast when her right hand becomes a fist and she punches herself in the face. She catches her wrist to stop another strike, but her tail suddenly coils around her knees and tightens to send her toppling backwards. The baffled vampire is about to get up when her arms plunge themselves into the floor and twist to make it impossible to pull out without the bones snapping.
“Let me go now!” Stephanie shouts, her muscles straining against Lost’s influence. An image of Xavier and Nadia flits across her vision, the faint memory driving a pang of fear into her gut. “You’re after the Lord and Lady. I understand now. You’re an innocent-looking assassin who thought she’d find my master here. Well, you’re not going to get her. Even if you can reach the throne room, they’re too powerful for you to handle.”
“Couldn’t I use the secret passage over there?” Lost politely asks as she points to the back wall. Releasing Stephanie from her power, she happily skips over to the bricks and slides her fingers into the mortar. “Not sure what this whole assassin thing is, but I only want to see my father. We haven’t met before, so I owe him a lot of birthday hugs. My priestess friend told me it’s probably Xavier Tempest because I have his hair. I’m going to put you to sleep because I don’t want you to ruin my surprise. We’ll be friends later.”
Lost wiggles her fingers at Stephanie, the gestures imitating a slumber enchantment she remembers seeing as a child. Distracted by a passing thought about diving into a lake, the Dawn Fang accidentally causes her target to stand up. She continues thinking about swimming while trying to complete her sleep orders, the conflicting signals resulting in the calico repeatedly flopping to the floor and getting back to her feet. The repeated blows begin to take their toll as the old-world vampire and the floor each begin to develop ugly dents. When Lost’s memory hits the point where she entered the warm water, Stephanie strips naked and takes a running leap out the open window. A few shouts can be heard from outside before the calico splashes into the moat and sinks to the shadowy bottom.
“Well, cats do like fish,” the Dawn Fang mutters as she senses that Stephanie is sleeping in the silt. Forcefully pulling open the secret passage, her impatience gets the best of her and she tears the door off its polished hinges. “I’ll put this on the couch and leave a note of apology. I can fix it later if they’re really mad. People are always happy to get notes, especially if you draw hearts on them. Just going to add the big artery there and perfect. Now, for the great reunion of my dreams. Am I forgetting something? Nope . . . Let’s go, voices in my head!”
*****
Reading Kai’s report for the fifth time, Xavier rubs his eyes and shifts in his throne until he can relax again. Having questions, he blindly grabs a quill from the table next to him and leaves some marks on the parchment. The Lord of Nyte can hear his wife do the same in her chair, neither of them having enjoyed the lengthy briefing. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, they have moved their thrones to a small table that has been set up in the middle of the spotless chamber. With the curtains open, the room is filled with light that forces the cloaked guards to remain in the corners. Unlike the nervous soldiers, Lou stands behind Nadia’s chair and ignores the warmth on his greasy skin. Reduced to his natural might, the vampiric ogre is still able to hold a heavy tray of ink wells w
ithout faltering. He only moves from his spot when Xavier waves for a refill, the silver-haired man showing less flare with his color choices than his humming wife. The hairy bodyguard does not stray from his master’s side for long due a change in the distant sky making him nervous. The shock of red hair on Lou’s head repeatedly twitches when he catches an unfamiliar scent, but the simple creature thinks it is from one of the newer turns who are training in the courtyard outside. Bowing down to Nadia, he lets her take a warm towel off his horns and waits for her to finish cleaning her hands before standing at his full height once more.
“I feel like I am reading a report about nothing,” Xavier finally whispers, tossing his scroll onto the table. Rubbing his neck, he grabs a goblet and takes a long drink to settle his worn nerves. “We never had these problems before Clyde. Duragians, hunters, and ambitious vampires were easy to handle. Now, we have mysterious disappearances and a slaughter that could possibly be blamed on our people. Kai is on the verge of losing his position if he cannot get me some solid answers.”
“Don’t punish him for things that are beyond his control,” Nadia replies while finishing the last of her questions. With a snap of her fingers, she transforms an extra chair into a wood golem and hands it the scroll. “Take this and the one marked by my husband to Mr. Stavros. You can go to the main hall and return to your original form once you are done. Perhaps one of our questions will spark a flame of creativity in our trusted spymaster. We need to have faith is his ability to succeed in these strange and dangerous times. Besides, it is not like we have anyone who could replace him.”
Lost (War of Nytefall Book 2) Page 7
