by Eva Brandt
Vandale smiled, and the odd edge of fondness in the expression made my skin crawl. “It’s going to be all right. I know it hurts now, but both of you will be better soon. The pain will be all gone, and no one will ever hurt you again. “
The eerie promise shattered something inside me. It shouldn’t have made much of a difference, as it told me nothing beyond what I’d already known. The conversation we’d been having had never given me false hopes or suggested that he didn’t plan on killing us.
But maybe I had simply grown tired of everything single shitty thing that had been happening to me. Maybe I could no longer withstand the absurdity and pointlessness of this whole exchange. Maybe I was just furious that I’d been robbed of the chance to build something real with the people who called themselves my soulmates.
Either way, I finally reached my limit and snapped. “Fuck you!” I shouted. “You won’t get us! Over my dead body.”
At the same time, the sea began to swirl and a massive monster exploded from the unfathomable depths. The... thing looked like something out a Lovecraftian horror novel. It was sort of like a cross between a humongous serpent and a snail. Long, prehensile tentacles surrounded its fanged mouth, and it carried a massive shell on top of its slimy but shaggy body.
Despite its impressive size, it moved with a speed that was even eerier than Vandale’s words had been. Within seconds, it was on the beach with us and attacking Vandale.
Vandale’s eyes went comically wide as the tentacles made a grab for him. I might have found that expression very satisfying, but I didn’t have the time to indulge in such trivial matters.
The snail’s arrival had interrupted whatever enchantment Vandale had been casting on both Darius and me. He stopped throwing up blood, and the pressure that had made it so difficult for me to get up dissipated.
I rushed to his side and grabbed his hand. “Come on, Prince Darius. We need to go.”
He slumped against the ground, unconscious and ice-cold. All right, that wasn’t good. I had followed my instincts when I’d invaded Vandale’s mind, but right now, they had done a runner and I had no idea how I was supposed to escape.
To my right, Vandale grabbed one of the snail’s tentacles and ripped it off in one powerful jerk. Green blood splattered over the white sand of the beach, and the snail released an ear-piercing screech. My head started spinning again and I fell on top of Darius, dazed and confused.
We needed to go... We needed to go...
Where? How?
A distant memory flashed through my mind, that of the mysterious, disembodied voice guiding me through the astral journey that had allowed me to help Declan at his trial. The voice was nowhere to be found, but the first time around, all I’d needed was to visualize my physical form to return to it.
There was just one problem with that. In this space, I didn’t feel any different from what I was on the outside. This could have easily been an actual beach because it seemed so real. I could now hear the previously missing sound of splashing waves, mingling with the screeches of the snail and Vandale’s occasional curses in a cacophonous symphony. I could smell the salt in the sea breeze, still so powerful despite the nauseating scent of Darius’s blood and the foul odor of the snail’s slime. How could I focus on returning to where I really belonged?
The snail cried out once more. With the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Vandale climbing on top of it and starting to crack its shell. We didn’t have much time left.
Please. Someone. Anyone. Help me.
I didn’t think anyone would hear me. Here in Vandale’s mind, we were completely cut off from the outside world, and he had said that no reinforcements were coming. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It took only a couple of seconds for my situation to drastically change and hope to reemerge once again. “Time to go,” a sudden voice said by my side. “Don’t look at them. Look at us.”
I turned, only to find that Malachai had at one point appeared next to me. He wasn’t alone. Inquisitor Lindberg was with him. I listened to them since I certainly had no desire to look at Vandale and the snail. When Malachai and his companion dropped to their knees next to me and Darius, I kept my gaze fixed on them.
My resolve to obey their instructions didn’t last. Inquisitor Lindberg brushed his fingers over mine, and a jolt of alien power struck me so hard I saw stars. The last thing I heard was the sound of the mysterious disembodied voice crying out my name, and then, everything went black.
Fifteen
Scavenger
Malachai
Traveling into the mind space of a plague was not something I’d ever thought I’d do. They might not have been mind mages, but the experience alone was said to be able to shatter the sanity of most Accursed.
The possibility did not frighten me and I fully intended to help Prince Darius. Lucienne stepped in before Bjorn or I could make the attempt.
One moment, she was standing next to me, having a conversation with Bjorn, and the next, her eyes rolled in her head and she fainted. I caught her before she could fall and hurt herself. As I gently lowered her to the ground and knelt by her side, I sensed the fact that her astral self was no longer within her body.
Despite that knowledge, I didn’t realize what she’d actually done until Vandale staggered in visible surprise and turned to look toward us. “Interesting,” he said. Flickers of green danced around Lucienne’s body and in his blue eyes. “Very interesting. It looks like I underestimated Miss Hastings. Or... Did I?”
As Vandale spoke, the wild magic around Darius faded and he collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut. Vandale knelt by his side and produced a knife, holding it against his neck. “Stop.”
It was a simple word. He didn’t raise his voice as he uttered it, and he didn’t seem to direct his request to anyone in particular. It did not matter. All the other plagues stopped fighting. Prince Darius’s troops might have taken advantage of this, but they caught sight of Vandale’s position and froze.
Serena glanced from Darius to Vandale and Lucienne, then back at the prince. Valerian stared solely at the knife in Vandale’s hand. Cyrus shared a look with Bjorn, perhaps hoping the incubus could do something about this.
Bjorn stood by my side, clenching and unclenching his fists, his body emanating unnatural levels of heat. He couldn’t attempt to rescue Darius under these circumstances, not when Vandale was dangling the prince’s life over our heads.
Distantly, I wondered how Bjorn had managed to gain the ability to wield fire. It was not something he could naturally do. To use such magic, he would’ve had to feed on the emotions of an Alarian or a twice-blessed. The implications of that realization would’ve disturbed me more had I not been busy fearing for Lucienne’s life and sanity.
Vandale barely seemed aware of our reactions. Despite the fact that he was the one who had pushed for the ceasefire, he didn’t acknowledge any of us. Instead, his gaze remained on Lucienne’s unconscious form.
“Why don’t you return Miss Hastings to me, Guardian Braun? I’ll take excellent care of her.”
If Lucienne was currently having a confrontation with Vandale in his mindscape, it didn’t show in his demeanor. “Over my dead body,” I replied. “You’re not taking her.”
Vandale laughed. “We’ve been over this, Guardian Braun. Do you really want to die so badly? I can make an effort, just for you.”
I didn’t want to die, but I’d made my peace with it. We all had. And even if that hadn’t been the case, I would have never allowed Vandale to touch my soulmate.
“This isn’t about my death,” I answered. “It’s about her life.”
“Semantics. The two are entwined, are they not? Life and death are just two sides of the same coin.”
“Then why do you hate life so much?” Bjorn asked quietly.
“The question is not why I hate it. It’s why you love it. Do you know, Bjorn Lindberg, that three-quarters of the time the attachment people feel toward their lives is pur
ely based on animal instinct, on self-preservation? I can taste it when I kill them. Humans, Accursed or any other species, it doesn’t matter to me. They are all alike. So many of them have no real purpose. They just exist because they don’t have the courage to end that existence. Don’t you think that is foolish?”
“Perhaps,” Bjorn answered. “But by the same token, it is arrogant to end those lives, even if we deem them useless and superfluous.”
“I suppose you would say that. What else could you expect for someone who feeds off emotion?” He scanned Bjorn from head to toe as if he was a particularly interesting kind of insect. “Then again, you haven’t been doing much of that lately. Your diet is a little more wholesome. Or is it?”
Bjorn arched a brow at Vandale. “Nice try, but I’m proud of serving The Pure Kingdom of Alaria,” he said, his voice as level as it was when he was torturing scavengers for information. “You won’t change that through your poison.”
He was full of shit. He’d already betrayed the promise he’d made when he’d joined the Guardian Corps. I had to give him credit, though, since nothing in his stance gave away the tension I knew he had to be feeling. If I hadn’t seen Bjorn take a fire blast from Prince Darius earlier and dissipate the magic like it was nothing, I would have believed him.
The enforcers present were all undoubtedly the same, but still, that might have changed had Vandale not dropped the topic. His gaze went distant, the green I now recognized as related to Lucienne’s magic glowing brighter in the depths of his eyes. Was Lucienne doing something to fight Vandale off in his mindscape? If so, we needed to hurry and use whatever opening she was able to give us to the best of our advantage.
“My lord!” one of the plagues shouted, rushing to Vandale’s side. “Are you all right?”
Vandale hissed in displeasure and turned to glare at the approaching man. “What does it look like, fool?”
The unfortunate plague spluttered, not wanting to point out the obvious fact that Vandale did not look all right. I could not blame him. Vandale’s presence seemed to have become even more threatening than before, not less. The blade he was holding started to glow menacingly, the metal channeling the electricity that responded to the commands of most plagues. For the moment, the knife had not made contact with Darius’s skin, but if it did, the consequences would undoubtedly be dire.
Bjorn must’ve realized this as well because he took advantage of Vandale’s distraction to kneel by my side. He removed his glove and brushed his fingers over Lucienne’s hand.
Almost instantly, a bright flare of purple and red surrounded him, and he let out a low, wounded gasp. Vandale’s gaze snapped back toward us. “Oh, dear. Have you been taking lessons from Ms. Hastings? What worked for her won’t work for you.”
Bjorn said nothing. His entire body started to tremble as he strained against Vandale’s hold on Darius’s mind. The air around us blurred and overheated further as his borrowed elemental magic began to escape his control. I feared for Lucienne’s safety, as incubi could be very volatile and dangerous after feeding. For the moment, Bjorn had done a good job in holding back, so it did not seem to be an issue. It could very easily become one if Vandale pushed a little harder.
He didn’t seem inclined to do so. It was almost eerie. We were all just standing there, staring at one another, no one daring to make a move lest they risk either their own lives or Darius’s. We were at an inexplicable stalemate, although technically speaking, Vandale had the advantage and could have forced matters by using Darius.
Was he simply toying with us? We might not be doing much, but Lucienne was undoubtedly fighting an unseen battle in Vandale’s mind. Nevertheless, I doubted he considered her a challenge, and his lack of reaction at Bjorn’s tentative attack suggested that he didn’t deem Bjorn a threat either.
What did he truly want with Lucienne? If he had intended to kill her, he could have done so already. What was this all about and how could I help my soulmate?
The brief respite passed before I could reach any useful conclusions. “Well,” Vandale suddenly said, “it looks like it’s time for this little episode to end. I’ve been patient enough.”
Under my horrified eyes, Vandale tore the dagger away from Darius’s neck and plunged it into his abdomen. A dazzling, but dark light enveloped them, and the previously motionless Darius screamed, convulsing like he was being ripped apart from the inside. At the same time, Lucienne went rigid, the bright green glow that surrounded her slowly fading into dull sparks.
The enforcers shot into action, and the plagues took their cue from their master to reignite their attack. Serena and Valerian teamed up in an attempt to get to Prince Darius, but a group of Vandale’s minions blocked their path. Three others converged upon me and Bjorn, intent on removing the threat to their leader. With Bjorn so out of it and Lucienne unconscious, I was the only one left to deal with them, and I was not at my best. Lucienne’s earlier intervention had helped me recover from Vandale’s attack, but the sun was still a problem. I was old enough to withstand daylight despite my natural aversion to it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have any effects on me at all.
Fortunately, these particular plagues weren’t as dangerous as Vandale, so they couldn’t just look at me and incapacitate me by stealing the air from my lungs and cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain. Not a lot of them were strong enough in that kind of magic to have an effect on a vampire. Well aware of this, they came at me with the same elemental attack Vandale had used, and which Prince Darius had managed to neutralize before his mind had been taken over.
The atmospheric pressure increased once again, making my vision swim and my senses unreliable. I forced myself to focus, to ignore the discomfort. It was easier said than done, as I had to be mindful of not only my own well-being but also Lucienne’s. She was still so very close to us, much too close, and one false move could get her killed.
The plagues must have realized their advantage because they chortled. “Don’t look so down, vampire,” one of them said. “Come quietly and you might just survive this.”
He emphasized the meaning of his words with a nasty burst of magic that made my nerve endings scream with pain. I didn’t mind it. A strange haze settled over me, and I suddenly knew what I needed to do.
“All right, then,” I said. “I’ll come. I don’t care about the Alarians anyway. But I will ask for Lucienne Hastings to be granted the same pardon.”
I extended my hands, presumably surrendering. They didn’t fall for the ruse as completely as I’d have liked, and instead of ceasing their attack on me, intensified their forceful use of atmospheric pressure. I dropped to my knees, clutching my temples, pretending that I was incapacitated even if that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Come on, creature. Come a little closer. The vampire is harmless. Come on.
I didn’t actually use magic to call them to me, but my subservient stance worked in my favor, regardless. The plagues discarded their natural apprehension and rushed to me, perhaps wanting to make sure I was harmless and then deal with the people who were still threats. Thankfully, Lucienne and Bjorn were behind me, so in order to reach them, the plagues would have to remove me first.
“I do love it when the food is cooperative,” another of my opponents mumbled. “A shame we have to keep this one for His Lordship.”
If Vandale thought he would get to keep me or anyone I loved, for that matter, he had another think coming. As soon as the plagues were close enough, I proceeded to prove that.
The kneeling might have persuaded the plagues that I did indeed mean my words and my surrender, but it had a different purpose. From my position, it was easy to make a grab for the first plague’s leg and bury my fangs into his femoral artery.
Blood exploded in my mouth, the taste just as sharp and heady as I remembered. A plague’s blood wasn’t exactly like that of a human, but it did not matter, as the coppery fluid still awoke the beast slumbering inside me.
The thirs
t and fury I’d painstakingly held back for so long took over, and I tore deeper into the artery I’d perforated, draining the plague of the same life he had stolen from so many others. The plague cried out in pain, and I enjoyed the sound far more than I should have. Then again, it was not that surprising. I’d denied myself the truth of my nature because I’d felt it was the right thing to do. I’d followed the rules of the Guardian Corps and crippled my own abilities in the process. I could not take back those actions, and I didn’t know if I would have had I been able to. That didn’t mean that finally returning to my roots and showing these bastards what a true vampire could do didn’t fill me with dark satisfaction.
I could not draw out the process too long, as my snack’s friends snapped out of their shock and predictably attacked, trying to free him. It was too late. I ripped my mouth away from the plague’s leg and shot forward, a whirlwind of aggression and bloodlust they could no longer contain.
They attempted to use electricity to fight me, but it did not work. The sound of their cries, the taste of their blood and the feel of their flesh tearing under my claws overcame any pain I could have possibly experienced. Unprepared for my attack, they were easy targets and before they could do much of anything, I managed to grab the second plague and tear out his jugular. It was a little wasteful since I didn’t get the chance to feed properly from him, but I had plenty of other snacks I could use to fill my reserves.
With the third snack, I allowed myself to indulge a little more. This one was female, and her blood didn’t taste the same as that of her companions, the combination of chromosomes reaching out to me and feeding my body differently. Perhaps that was what changed things, or maybe it was simply that my thirst had started to fade. In any case, as she went limp in my hold, the haze that had settled over my mind cleared, and I remembered everything else I still needed to do and everyone I needed to protect.
