Of the Blood

by Cameo Renae

  Alive. She was still alive.

  “How did you release in the middle of feeding, when every guard in this castle has failed?” Roehl roared, his expression cold as ice. “Even when ordered to feed on those dearest them.”

  This was my chance, with his royal guards surrounding him. I rose and faced Roehl, my legs strong and steady, my body still humming as the blood coursed through my veins, restoring, reviving, working its magic.

  “You are an evil narcissist, and I would never want to live in a place with you as king.”

  “You have no choice, pet,” he stated with a deadly calm. “It’s only a matter of time when the only family you’ll have left is me.”

  “I hate you,” I said, my words slow and sure.

  He laughed and stalked over to me, his eyes moving to Spring. “Take her away.”

  One of the guards approached her. “Where do I take her?”

  Roehl waved him off. “I don’t give a damn. Finish her off and dispose of the body.”

  “What?” I roared. “You promised! You promised if I let go, you’d set her free.”

  His head dipped, his crimson glare narrowed on me. “I am keeping my word. She will be free and never be fed upon again.”

  “You lying bastard!” I made a fist and swung at Roehl’s face, but he caught my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back.

  Applying pressure, my wrist snapped. I wailed in agony, twisting out of his grasp.

  The pain. The rage. It was overwhelming. The heat inside my bones grew until I could no longer contain what was writhing beneath my skin.

  Before Roehl could react, I slammed my fist against his chest. Power and flame burst from me, sending him hurtling backwards. His body crashed against the brick wall, blasting shards of cinder and mortar dust across the room.

  His guards didn’t move, nor did they utter a word. Their mouths were wide in either dismay or awe. I couldn’t tell.

  Roehl’s face contorted with fury. I prepared for him to charge toward me with a bone-crushing blow, but he rose, laughed, and casually dusted himself off. If this was a tactic for me to drop my guard, it wasn’t working. I raised my hands in front of me. Hands that were consumed in flame. Blue and orange and red flames danced in my palms and through my fingers. The magic of Incendia was alive and wanted to play.

  I felt that immense power when I struck him, and I felt it was only the tip of the iceberg.

  Roehl waved a finger at me. “You were hiding power from me and protected it well. I knew there was something more to you. I could sense it.”

  I didn’t have time to ponder the consequences. He’d seen my power, but he had no idea what more I could do, because even I didn’t know the full extent of my power.

  He took a step toward me. “You can’t harm me here, pet. I’m always prepared.”

  Before I could voice a word, three black-hooded figures stepped into the throne room, immediately suppressing the fire from my palms. I tried to call it back, to will it back, but it died. No heat, no spark, nothing. My power was snuffed out, just like that.

  I could feel the tendrils of their shadowy, dark magic crawling through the room, coiling around my frame, strangling whatever magic I had inside. I struggled to move, but every muscle was locked. Frozen.

  “Are you afraid of me, Roehl?” I hissed.

  His eyes went fire red. “Never afraid, pet. This is simply a safeguard until I learn the full extent of your power.”

  Lies. I knew my power rocked him, and he didn’t like it. I’d given him a taste of his own medicine, and it pissed him off.

  Markus took a step toward Roehl, his eyes latched on me. “What is she?” he asked.

  “The last of her kind,” he declared, indicating he already knew. Bastard. “I want Nicolae to meet his granddaughter, my future mate, before I rip his head from his shoulders.”

  Markus shifted his attention to Roehl. “Is she—”

  “Incendian royalty.” He casually stalked toward me with his arms folded behind his back, moving so close I could feel his breath against my cheek. Then Roehl froze, his gaze narrowing, before he pressed his ear to the middle of my chest.

  Swine.

  His eyes lifted to meet mine with a vicious glare that sent a chill deep in my bones.

  “You are something. A vampire with a beating heart,” he announced coolly. Gasps erupted from the surrounding guards.

  A beating heart? “What the hell are you talking about?” I growled.

  He slowly stalked around me, sniffing me like a dog. “After Lord Mathias was expelled and the girl was left, I heard an extra heartbeat in the room. The question is, my pet . . . how is that possible?”

  “You expect me to know the reason?” I replied through gritted teeth. Was it true? Was my heart still beating?

  Leora’s words sounded in my head. Above all else, guard your heart.

  She knew. Maybe it was her magic that had protected my heart.

  “Can you imagine how powerful our offspring will be?” Roehl spoke. “Hybrids of the most potent blood.”

  Bile rose in my throat. “You’re disgusting. I will never bond with you or bear offspring for you . . . grand uncle.” I addressed him with contempt.

  Markus’s face contorted, his eyes scanning between Roehl and me. “Grand Uncle?”

  Roehl’s lip curled above razor-sharp incisors. “It seems my father managed to sink his pole into foreign waters before he married my mother. Incendian waters.”

  Markus’s brow furrowed deeply as if he was trying to piece together the puzzle laid out before him.

  Roehl exhaled. “The elusive, Nicolae Corvus, is my bastard half-brother. The man who murdered Rurik.”

  “You’re a liar!” I yelled, the words shooting out of my mouth. “You plotted to murder Nicolae—to eliminate any threat to your throne. But Nicolae found out you were coming and defended himself. I know the truth. What he did was done in self-defense.”

  “You know nothing!” The room rattled with Roehl’s rage. Instantly, he was in front of me, his fingers wrapped around my neck like a vice.

  “I know more than you realize,” I choked. “And it didn’t require dark mages to inform me.”

  The mages hissed, and I felt their power squeeze tighter, compressing my rib cage, making it harder to breathe.

  “Who told you?” He roared.

  I smiled, knowing it ticked him off. “The dead.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he squeezed, cutting off my air. Darkness edged my eyes, and right before I passed out, he let go. I dropped to the floor, gasping for air before glaring up at him.

  “I didn’t lie.” My voice was gravelly.

  A guard clad in Morbeth’s black and red fighting leathers walked in and murmured in Roehl’s ear.

  Roehl growled then stalked over, taking a knee beside me. “I have to leave, but I’ll deal with you when I return.” He snatched my face with his fingers and pressed his lips against mine.

  I bit his lip, and he pushed me back, then licked the blood dripping from the minor wound I left. His crimson eyes flickered. “Oh, we’re going to have fun, pet. I prefer a fiery girl.”

  I didn’t respond. I didn’t even look at him.

  He turned to Markus. “Take her and the girl to the dungeon. To the special chamber.” His gaze moved to the mages. “I demand you accompany them and make certain no one enters or exits that cell without the pain of death.”

  The mages bowed their heads.

  “What about a healer for the girl?” Markus asked, nodding to Spring’s limp body lying on the floor.

  The sight caused bile to rise in my throat. I hated myself for taking it that far. For nearly killing her. If she died, I would never forgive myself. I made her a promise. A promise I nearly broke, if not for the voice in my head.

  “She’s lucky to be alive,” Roehl replied with no regard. “No one is allowed in the cell until I return. The guards can slide them some bread and water, nothing else.”

  “And what about
Calla?” Markus asked. That was the first time he’d used my name.

  Roehl glanced at me with distaste. “If she needs to feed, the girl’s body is at her disposal.”

  “You bastard,” I growled. I knew they’d be gone for weeks, at least. Unless Roehl had a company of Wanderers to whisk them to Northfall and back in seconds, which I doubted.

  He didn’t reply or even cast a glance in my direction. Roehl laid his hand on Markus’s shoulder. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. You realize what will happen if anything goes wrong.”

  Markus placed his fisted hand in the center of his chest and bowed deeply. “Yes, my prince.”

  “Tell the men I’ll meet them at the front gate in a half hour,” Roehl commanded the guard that came in. Then he marched out of the room without another word.

  Markus took Spring in his arms. He then made a gesture with his head, and two guards flanked my sides. They both hesitated, as if they were afraid to touch me.

  “I’m not the cruel one here,” I said, folding my hands behind my back. “And I won’t do anything to get you in trouble.” Their brows furrowed as they glanced at each other. As did Markus’s.

  I didn’t want them to think I was a tyrant like their prince. They should know there were decent and respectable people beyond their Red Wall. Beyond their huge prison called Morbeth. Leaders who cared for their people and about their well-being, who didn’t make them submit out of fear.

  The hallways were eerily quiet as we made our way to the door that led down into the dungeon. “How are Roehl’s guards able to travel in daylight if they aren’t pureblood?” I inquired.

  It was Markus who replied. “Magic. Roehl puts a cover of obscurity over them, which protects them from the light.”

  Of course.

  I drew in a deep breath, savoring the smells of the blossoming flowers and fresh air around us, knowing that once we were on the other side of that wretched door, the stench of misery and death would be awaiting.

  Sadness and fear enveloped me as Markus opened the door and we descended back into the dark and suffocating bowels of hell. We seemed to walk even further than before, to an area no guards were posted, and then down another unusually long, dark corridor. There were no cells along these walls, just one solitary door at the end. The special cell.

  One of the guards unlocked the door and tugged on the handle. Even with his vampire strength, it took some prying before the door cracked open. It was obvious this cell wasn’t used in an exceptionally long time. It must have been for those who were left and forgotten.

  Inside the cell, there were no windows or light. Just a boundless darkness lying in wait, ready for the doors to shut before it swallowed us whole.

  Another guard from behind us, bearing a torch, entered first. The cell was the same size as my former one, with another crude toilet—a board with a hole in it lying over a pail, and a musty pile of hay against the far wall.

  “Fetch them clean water,” Markus ordered one of the guards. He carried Spring’s limp body into the cell and set her gently on the bundle of hay. A couple of rats scattered from within and ran out the exit.

  The guard returned with a bucket of water and set it in a corner, then hustled out.

  Markus turned his dark eyes to me, and he didn’t need to speak. His eyes told me what he was feeling. A mix of sadness and concern, maybe even regret. “You will have to remain here until the prince returns.”

  “I know.” I wasn’t worried about me. I was concerned about Spring, wondering if she would survive until he came back.

  As Markus stepped outside of the cell, the three mages stepped up to the threshold. They raised their arms and started chanting in an unfamiliar tongue—words that sent a shudder down my spine and caused all the hair on my body to stand erect.

  Red veins stretched along the walls inside the cell until the entire room was pulsing, as if it were alive.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “A spell to keep you in and everyone else out,” was Markus’s terse response.

  When the mages were finished, they turned around and shuffled away under cover of their large dark cowls. Then Markus began to close the door.

  “Wait,” I pleaded, and he halted. “Please tell Sabine what happened to Spring. Her mother needs to know.”

  Without responding, Markus closed the door, sealing Spring and I in that suffocating darkness.

  I didn’t expect him to respond. He was captain of the guard and had orders to follow. I just hoped he’d at least grant me that one favor and tell Sabine what happened.

  In the darkness, with my arms extended in front of me, I slowly shuffled forward, feeling for the bed of hay. When I finally bumped into it, I reached down and felt Spring’s warm arm. Kneeling next to her, I found her neck and pressed my fingers against one side. Her pulse was weak, but she was still alive.

  “Spring, please hold on. I’m so sorry. I won’t let you die.”

  It was a hollow promise but keeping her alive was now my main priority.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It could have been days, but I wouldn’t know. Time was nonexistent in the pitch-black cell. I was afraid to sleep, wondering if Spring’s frail life would slip away if I shut my eyes, even for a moment. The thought of being alone in the asphyxiating darkness was frightening enough.

  The question remained.

  Would Markus let Sabine know? Did anyone, besides Roehl and his guards, know we were down here?

  I had a sinking feeling no one would come for us, especially with the mage’s spell on the cell. No one was foolish enough to risk death.

  Spring was still unconscious, but her even breaths were a welcome sound.

  I felt for the bucket of water and pulled it closer. Tearing off a portion of the bottom of my dress, I made a small washcloth. Although I couldn’t see, I spent time wiping down her face and arms, dropping water on her lips. I knew it wasn’t enough to keep her alive. If she ever woke up, she would need food and a healer.

  As time ticked on, the darkness was getting to me. But the longer I remained in this silent isolation, I started to hear a gentle, familiar voice in the recesses of my mind.

  Your gift has never left you, Calla. Neither has it weakened. The mages have masked it, a trick to cause you to doubt. They want you to think it’s gone, but they cannot stop or suppress it. Push through their wicked veil. The power of Incendia is much stronger than any dark magic. You must believe in it. Believe in yourself.

  Light. I possessed a light inside that could cut through this endless darkness.

  I reflected to my visit with Leora, the Princess of Incendia, and how much she believed in me. I was her heir, a royal with the power of the fire goddess inside of me. I couldn't doubt it, because if I did, I wouldn’t only be letting her down, but would allow the dark mages of Morbeth to win again. And I wouldn’t let that happen.

  I let the hope and belief of who I was seep deep down into my bones, flooding the doubt and fear, replacing it with a warming heat. Out loud, I called to the power of Incendia and the fire goddess and ordered it to come to me—the new wielder of its flame.

  My hands started to heat, and as I held my palms up in front of me, they burst into flame. The brilliant light gobbled up the darkness, and with that light, I could breathe again.

  I held my hands over Spring, illuminating her frail body, but she was still asleep and unresponsive. I had to do something. I had to find a way to help her.

  Scurrying noises on the far wall diverted my attention. I aimed my palms toward the movement. There, at the bottom of the stone wall, was a slight hole. It didn’t surprise me that the rats had a way in and out. They were probably the same ones who had run out when we came in and were trying to get back to their beds within the hay.

  Silently, I observed a large rodent poke its snout out of the hole. The reddish veins in the cell’s wall began to pulse as if it was waking from slumber.

  As the rat stepped further into the cell, the veins t
urned dark crimson. Then, those pulsing red capillaries started to move like slithering snakes toward the rat. They seemed to be alive, trailing the movement of the rodent attempting to breach the cell.

  The rat stepped halfway into the cell when those red veins moved off the wall and coiled around it. The sound of bones crunching filled the chamber before the rat let out a tortured scream. Its limbs and tail twitched before it finally stilled, blood oozed from its orifices.

  Heavens above.

  The curse. No one enters or exits the cell without the pain of death. I guess that included the vermin. We were stuck here until Roehl returned.

  I needed sleep—craved it. Not only because I was exhausted, but because the thought of seeing Trystan again offered me hope. Yet falling asleep was virtually impossible. I had too many distractions keeping me wide awake. The biggest of which was making sure Spring stayed alive and breathing.

  Sighing, I sat down on the ground, my back resting against the stack of hay. During the following hours, I called my flame over and over, and each time I did, it came to me, faster and easier. After some time, I found I could shape the fire into a ball between my palms. And if I concentrated enough, I could make it expand, growing wider and brighter, or smaller and dimmer.

  I wondered what would happen if I tossed that fiery ball against the cursed cell wall. Could I kill it? Leora said my power was stronger than any dark magic. I wanted to test it out and see if it was true.

  I rose to my feet and aimed for the wall that had taken the poor rat’s life. I called a flame and drew my arm backward. Thrusting it forward, the flame shot from my palm and slammed into the wall, exploding in a burst of blinding light.

  The red veins in the walls pulsed brightly, revealing the curse was still intact.

  Dammit.

  I tried again and again, but every time I threw my flame, those red veins would respond. They weren’t fading. But I had to admit, the sight of it pulsing did bring some satisfaction. I considered that with each blast; I was weakening, or maybe even hurting that curse.

  In between practicing, I gathered some hay, bundling it securely together with a piece of fabric from my dress and made a small torch. It helped free up my hands so I could tend to Spring. The light kept me sane but also revealed how frail and pale Spring had become. She was dying. Her breath and pulse were slowing, and there was nothing I could do.