Night Kings: The Complete Anthology

by Gregory Blackman

  If Corina wanted him to know the truth she would’ve said so already. She wasn’t going to spoil the surprise. Not for the man that’d ended her maker and stolen her crown.

  While both of them were born in the seventh century, Corina was fifty years his elder. Her advanced years amounted to little in the vampire court and she had to witness Remus rise above her in station. He ruled beside the vampire queen as her dutiful right hand, her executioner in black, and wherever Xenia pointed her finger he was sent to set fire to everything that moved; but when the Old World kingdom fell and he fell from his pedestal, Corina Petravic was there to pick up the pieces. Now the crown was his and the weight of it threatened to drag the two of them deeper into the abyss.

  “I need to speak with your manservant,” Remus said.

  His tone was cold and his stare a bottomless pit of black. To call a man bound in chains since birth a servant was as discreditable as one could be without crossing one of their many divided lines. He wanted the dark princess to both see and hear the contempt he had for the man that’d tried to take his life. More than that, he needed her to believe it.

  Akil Fayed had no answer for him other than the subtle shake of his head. He was nervous, fearful, and unsure of the king in black’s reason for such a request. The vampire queen would’ve placed his head on a pike for much less, and while Remus was unlike her in many ways, there were a select few in which they couldn’t have been closer.

  “That’s not going to happen,” replied Corina, flatly and without hesitation. “Akil’s needed by my side. There are dangerous beasts out tonight, you know.”

  “This won’t take long,” Remus insisted.

  “No.”

  Remus turned from the beleaguered vampire to meet the gaze of his older sister. He could see the specks of amber in the reflection of her eyes, specks that slowly moved from one side of her iris to the other.

  He was losing his kingdom.

  “You defy your king such a simple request?” Remus asked with narrowed eyes. “Think of my rule what you will, but I’ll not have the kindred populace divided between us.”

  This was the moment where Remus would find out her far he could test his rebellious sister. She could slap him around, curse his name in the companion of others, but to deny the request of the monarch was to open a door few kindred dared open over the centuries.

  “As if there would be any division among kindred,” sneered Corina, “but I’ll let you have this one. Consider it a parting gift, for you won’t receive another.”

  When the laughter hit she could barely keep her belly from being split in half. The very thought of a vampire that would side with Remus Castalon was enough to keep her in stitches while she descended the many stories of Blackrose Manor in a single bound. A hundred years ago Remus could’ve mustered the forces the keep his kingdom intact. That day wasn’t today, a fact both of them knew in equal measure, but still they continued the same dance they’d been locked in since birth; a dance in which Corina was often forced to lead.

  The king had been granted his one wish and given him what he needed most. It wasn’t Akil that the man in black wanted. It was the knowledge that she wasn’t ready to move against him. Not yet.

  In the meantime, there was much to be done. He had to do the one thing in this world Xenia Parentucelli wasn’t capable of doing. He needed to find allies among the worst kinds of monsters.

  “Akil Fayed,” said Remus with those black eyes back on his onetime friend, “we’ve much to discuss. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Chapter Fifty Two

  Night Kings: Old World Cull

  Gregory Blackman

  Tooth Decay

  Vengeance was the only thought that circled the mind of Lukas Wendish. There was much for him to avenge, more for him to atone, and wherever he ended up on this night it would be for the pack that bore him. He could smell through the smoke filled air who led the pack of werewolves on approach. He could think of no other more qualified to command or more ruthless to rule.

  It was Kaleb Ramsey that came, and with him, he brought the entirety of his new pack.

  Lukas, still in his human skin, ran full stride into his pack. Several of them appeared through the wall of smoke and lunged at him with their claws extended. He avoided their attacks, but it put him at a disadvantage when the last of the warriors came.

  The serrated teeth of a werewolf ran down the side of his shoulder. He shrugged off the assault, but the damage had already been down. He left shoulder was sliced wide open. It wasn’t enough to down him, but until the wound healed he would have to fight back with only the one arm.

  When Lukas looked up from the cut he found the werewolves had formed a circle around him. He moved slowly around to find identity each and every wolf that’d fallen under Kaleb’s sway. In their eyes he saw that some of his childhood friends, his uncle, and even his beloved godfather stood in a circle around him.

  He saw them for what they were. They were the ones quick to turn when the Wendish clan needed them the most. Now they were no more than rabid wolves, bloodthirsty animals with the strength of ten men.

  “Leanne,” said Lukas as he spotted an auburn werewolf mixed into the crowd, “I never wanted this for you. Not you.”

  There were a few gashes along her frame that were hard to place underneath her matted auburn fur. As a member of the worker caste, it fell to her, and others like her, to learn, build, and earn for the pack. She was never meant to know the horrors of war, but she would soon learn, nonetheless. Then another caught the corner of his eye.

  “Mother,” he growled as his canine teeth descended. “What have I done to you?”

  Even the silver-haired Aubrey Wendish had joined the ranks of the warriors. Her fur was painted with her own blood, some from hunks of fur and meat and bone still unhealed. It was the signs of a power struggle. A struggle his mother lost. But where was the victor?

  Each of the werewolves frothed at the mouth and stared back at Lukas with their beady, amber eyes. They were confused by the human before them. He smelled like one of them, carried himself like one of them, but he stood on two feet, on the night where none blessed by the moon gods could walk.

  The disturbance frightened them, and once one began to bark, the rest of the werewolves were quick to clamor in disapproval. If there was one thing Lukas remembered from his father’s lectures, it was that there was nothing more unpredictable than a frightened werewolf.

  “I don’t want any more bloodshed,” Lukas said as the sole voice of reason amid a pack of ravenous killers. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

  “Bold words,” said Kaleb Ramsey, his head clouded by thoughts of bloodletting and violence. He sifted between some of the wolves and bared his fangs in an aggressive manner. “Do you expect… to fight us all?”

  “If I have to,” he replied.

  Kaleb kicked earth and rock up into the air as he entered into the middle of the circle. He had a miserable scowl stretched across his wiry werewolf lips and eyes that hadn’t left Lukas since they were put upon him. From the death of the reaper to the fiery ends of their brethren, his hands were steeped in the events that led to this night. He fought for this pack. He killed for his pack. Now Kaleb Ramsey would have to behead the Wendish heir for his pack.

  “My pack!” barked Kaleb with a snap in Lukas’ direction. “This is my pack!”

  “And what a pack it is.” Lukas took another turn to survey the werewolves Kaleb called his pack. “I see a half dozen of your goons and the mistreated few that survived your rise to dominance. Whatever you call this assortment of killers it bears no resemblance to its Wendish roots.”

  But before Lukas was done his inspection of those that flocked to his banner, he made sure to turn his back to the leader of this so-called pack. To turn ones back to an enemy was often a grave insult among the warrior caste. That was how Lukas intended it.

  Lukas wanted to instigate his opponent, force his hand. He wanted to see the bite behind t
he bark and he wanted it done before the other werewolves lost control and devoured him whole.

  “This is our night,” barked Kaleb, in a deep rumble, only it wasn’t Kaleb that spoke any longer. It was the voice of the moon god behind that pulled the strings; the one that guided him on this night. “How dare you come to us… in that form?”

  “Blasphemous,” one of the werewolves sneered.

  “Outrageous.”

  “Let us feast on his fleshy remains.”

  “Now, now,” said Kaleb Ramsey. “This one is mine. Mark my words, brothers… we’ll see two kings fall on this night. It will truly… be blessed night… for the Ramsey clan.”

  Kaleb kicked up the ground beneath him and cast as imposing a shadow as he could. He snarled and snapped, cursed and howled, everything but launch an attack. He wouldn’t give Lukas the satisfaction of an quick death. He wanted the beast. Not the man.

  The others howled in pleasure as Lukas turned into the werewolf he was meant to be. It was a slow, painful change, onset by the desire to tear this wolf to shreds. He clutched at himself in pain and dug his fingernails into his flesh to help the wolf tear it from their body.

  “You killed members of your own,” Lukas growled as Kaleb postured from side to side. “You turned your bloodlust to the innocent; and to add insult to my father’s legacy, you laid hand and tooth on the mother of the pack! The ninth circle isn’t deep enough for the likes of you!”

  Kaleb lunged to Lukas, but he narrowly avoided the attack and escaped to the side. It proved to be a momentary delay to the bloodshed, as Kaleb was quick to respond with a snap in his direction.

  Lukas howled in anguish as his blood spattered to the dirt below. He pulled his hind legs back, but it only deepened the jagged teeth that were clamped down on them. He whimpered and grimaced in agony, but through the pain and the tears he managed to unlatch the werewolf’s jaws.

  “Is that the best this… wannabe pack master can do?” Kaleb asked as he licked the blood from his lips. “I don’t know of the pack the boy speaks… but if he’s the best they’ve got… I don’t exactly fear their recourse.”

  Kaleb’s wolves cackled in laughter, all of them, even his mother and close friend were forced to honor their leader in bloody mirth. But the newfound pack master would see their spirits short lived. He lunged at Lukas again, but this time the scorned heir had time to counter the blow.

  Lukas caught Kaleb with a slash from his good side that sent the werewolf back to the edges of the circle. He moved to counter the blow, but a fire deep inside struck him at the wrong time and caused the wayward heir to stumble on his way.

  Kaleb seized the opportunity before him and came at Lukas with all the weight at his disposal. He knocked Lukas to the ground and began to tear into the his side without abandon. He tore at his ribcage. He tore at his back. He tore at everything not covered in a fresh coat of red paint.

  Lukas couldn’t fight back, but it wasn’t from the pain inflicted by his aggressor. Worse than the claws that eviscerated his frame was the fire that spread across each and every one of his extremities.

  “Now, Lukas Wendish,” said Kaleb, towering over the heir while still on all fours, “everything that belonged to you will be mine.”

  Before Kaleb’s jaws could clamp around the throat of Lukas, he was pushed back by the swipe of a forearm. The bloodthirsty pack leader of the Ramsey clan was dazed, but not out of the fight. He went to strike again, but was caught off guard by a tawny light before him.

  “What kind of sorcery is this?” an alarmed Kaleb asked.

  He watched, speechless, as the werewolf of Lukas Wendish molted from this world in a bloody mess of flesh and fur. The man emerged, curled up in a fetal position, and bleeding profusely from the many wounds inflicted.

  “Fine,” Kaleb grumbled. “I’ll kill the heir like the cowardly man he wants to be so badly.”

  Lukas twitched and grimaced on the ground. He was transformed. No more tethered to the gods of the moon. That didn’t keep the young werewolf turned man to be an open target for punishment.

  Kaleb lunged at the heir with eyes on the kill, but an elbow driven into the pack master’s neck sent him airborne in the opposite direction. He crashed against the trunk of a tree, and in a cloud of splinter and dust fell motionless to the ground.

  “You always spoke of the pack when we were kids,” Lukas said. He was torn open on his right side, from thigh to shoulder, cut open and a bloody mess. Despite these wounds he managed to rise to his feet and greet the circled horde. “I don’t think you every really knew what the word meant. The lycan race spent millennia as beasts without the souls of a mortal to tame their hearts. They were bloodthirsty, ruthless, and no mans equal on the battlefield. But as they moved across the countryside it was the humans they took that were the true threat to their race. They were born with another half, a human half, and it gave them the strength to do what none could do before. They deposed their unholy ancestors and they did it with the power of the pack. We are descended from those hybrid few, not the monsters that enslaved them.”

  “After centuries of subservience the newborn werewolf race struck in numbers no lycan family could contend with.” Lukas’ wounds were plenty, but to the pack’s astonishment as much his own, those deep cuts began to heal in rapid fashion. He continued in on, not interested in the history session, but rather the moment of peace it seemed to provide. “Packs were formed to keep werewolves close-knit and loyal, but distant enough to see prosperous hunting grounds for all. To disgrace pack mentality is to deny all the progress it took to bring us here. Humanity isn’t the inferior gene you believe it to be. It’s what allowed us to grow from monsters to men. There’s still time to right the wrongs of the past, my brothers and sisters. We can find an honorable way home.”

  The werewolves began to clamor as signs of life returned to their pack master. Lukas wasn’t sure if their calls for blood were for him or their apoplectic pack master over by the tree. Regardless of their reasons, Lukas was sure to brace himself for any possible attack.

  “I don’t need a history lecture,” Kaleb yelped. His back was likely broken, but still he pushed and pulled until he righted himself.

  “Your actions say otherwise,” Lukas said with the teeth and claws of his wolf, but in the form of a man. He looked to the other wolves for support, but found it lacking. “The lycans pillaged and raped our ancestors. Are these monsters you choose to model yourselves after? Because I see near a quarter of what was once a healthy pack. You corrupt the strong and discard the meek. Even the spiritual leaders of our pack weren’t immune to your wrath.”

  “You impudent wretch,” Kaleb screamed. “Your father—!”

  “Was a better man than you or I,” said Lukas, earnestly and in remembrance of what truly led to this meeting. “He would be ashamed of every single one of us. Yet, despite each and every one of our collective sins, there’s no shame greater than the pack member that’s killed so many of his own kind. The vampires will write songs about you, old friend. All we can hope for now is a just end to the fates that have come to pass.”

  Power comes at a cost to all who quest for it. Kaleb more than desired some of that power for himself. He desired it so badly that he reached out and took it from the clutches of a widow.

  Lukas turned towards his mother, but as his gaze shifted from Kaleb to his bruised and beaten mother, the enraged pack master took one last chance to end what started with the death of a reaper. He let Kaleb get less than a few inches off the ground before he struck with a foot that saw the pack master planted once again.

  Kaleb was a bloody mess, but despite himself and his many founds, fought to rise and meet his foe eye to eye. That soon became impossible for the pack master that quickly rose to dominance. Another bare foot from Lukas Wendish stomped on his snout and sealed his lips from being able to speak anymore.

  “I should kill you,” Lukas said as he drove his foot down to the bone. “I have every right. You killed our fr
iends and family. You laid a hand to my mother and to your sister. Now you want to exterminate an entire city to exact some phony vengeance on the vampires that dwell here. On this night we’re possessed by our dark nature, guided to acts of bloodlust and rage, but what’s gone down these last few weeks goes beyond the wolf or the moon gods. It’s blood and it’s murder.”

  “You chose to kill,” he continued, “and you will pay the consequences for that. You will be forever denied that which you seek.”

  “Do it,” Kaleb growled with a mouth full of dirt. “Reclaim your birthright.”

  “It is tradition,” Lukas reasoned. He leaned forward and placed a single serrated fingernail within inches of the pack master’s eyes. “You’ve upset the natural order. There needs to be consequences.”

  “Do it!” Kaleb cried out through clenched teeth. “Do it fucking now!”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” Lukas said. “To end your life over what’s happened would make you a martyr and me a hypocrite. You will leave this land with whatever honor you have left in your bones. You’ll forever be an outlaw among our kind. Forever removed from place or status.”

  It was a fate worse than death for Kaleb Ramset to be forced to live without friends or family. His only hope would be to find some distant corner of the country and try and carve out a life for himself, but pride would have no home there.

  The werewolves in the circle, still lost in their bloodlust, started to snap and snarl at the two inside. They wanted blood and they wouldn’t stop until they got some. On any other night they would heed his call, but not on this night it was the full moon that held dominion over them.

  “Listen to me, my brothers and sisters,” said Lukas, his hands still covered in their pack master’s blood. “Kaleb’s path doesn’t have to be yours. I hold no ill will for the sins committed in your newfound clan’s name. Walk with me and reclaim the honor bound lives you once had.”