The Bloodtruth Series (Box Set: Heiress of Lies, The Queen's Betrayal, Trials of Truth, A Heart's Deceit)

by Cege Smith

  “Bastards!” Rhone’s eyes blazed in anger. “She may be young, but she’s smarter than the lot of them combined.”

  “I agree, Rhone, but you understand the gravity of the situation.”

  “The Queen wouldn’t risk putting her subjects in harm’s way though, Malin. I have no doubt that if these vampires still live, they are going to be angry. They were here to cause trouble. What happened this afternoon might be enough for them to declare war.”

  “I realize that. It’s a fine line that we are walking, but I don’t want to do anything rash without having more information. Go find out what you can and report back to me. If it looks like there is cause for concern, we will deal with it then. We can’t prepare for what we don’t know.”

  Rhone sighed. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to do anything that would cause harm to the Queen. There may be a logical explanation. I will go back and see if I can track down the bodies.”

  Malin clasped the man’s shoulder. “Excellent. Find me as soon as you return.”

  Rhone nodded and then strode from the room, leaving Malin alone with his thoughts once again. It seemed more and more likely that Elvry had not left Brebackerin as expected.

  It was possible to revive a vampire with the right kind of magic even after it had been staked and burned. It was a secret that the Clan tried to keep secret, but Malin thought that it was possible that the Master had experimented on his own subjects over the years just to ensure that he knew how to do it. Elvry, who Malin realized now that he had seen on his emissary visits to the coven on Eric’s behalf, was a sultry, hot-tempered beauty that had served the Master since the war with Alair Robart. She was old enough to know secrets that younger vampires would not know. That was the part that concerned Malin the most.

  He went to his bookcase and pulled out several books from the second shelf from the bottom revealing the back of the bookcase. Then he slid aside the wooden back that hid the small area where he stored the few things he kept that could tie him to the Clan. One of those items was a small book that he used as his reference point for all things that had to do with vampires. It was the journal of Mamette, the first vampire whose blood thirst was awakened.

  The Clan used magic to make Mamette crave blood, and her brother Arduro became the first wraith when she drained him to the point of death, and then he came back to life even though he had crossed death’s threshold. It was something that the Clan had not expected, that Mamette’s bloodlust would continue after the ceremony and that another creature could be created that was not bound to the constructs of their existence.

  The Clan wanted to be on the same level as the Gods. For their arrogance, the Gods punished them by taking away their ability to walk freely in the sun. Mamette fed on and killed many of Clan members before she could be reasoned with. In the meantime, Arduro descended on the newly created species of humans, and there was mass destruction.

  The intention had been to humble the Clan. Instead, it seemed to make them more determined than ever to pull the strings of all the races that now existed in Altera. Once Mamette dealt with Arduro because she wouldn’t allow anyone else to do so, she left the Clan and went off into the wilderness and formed her own coven. She kept her journal detailing everything she observed about herself and the changes she experienced. The Clan used their magic to find ways to bend the Gods rules once again.

  Malin could hardly blame her that, after many years in isolation, she felt the need for companionship. Her first fumbling attempts to create a mate were painfully awkward to read, but eventually she learned how to do it. She had no teacher. Those that she introduced into the dark immortal existence created others. It didn’t take long before the Clan stepped in with a not so gentle reminder that they were in charge. Mamette could bow to their will or they would remove her.

  He always thought it strange that Mamette didn’t just give up. It was clear that she didn’t enjoy her new life. She felt cursed, and the loss of her brother at her own hand, twice, was a heavy burden on her heart, but Mamette continued on. She brokered an uneasy peace with the Clan, who required that she do the same with the humans.

  The humans, however, were less than accepting, and so hundreds of years of bitter rivalry and war began until Alair Robart was chosen to bring peace to Altera. The Robart family was reborn under the guise of a perfect fairytale.

  It was dizzying the number of threads interwoven into the fabric of the history of Altera. The people who lived there had no idea. The dark underbelly of corruption, greed, and manipulation was well hidden by design. If people truly understood, chaos would reign the land. Secrets were necessary. Malin often wondered what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant if he had a life that was simple. It was an immature dream and so he shoved it aside as he always did.

  Malin opened the book and stared at the blank pages. Although he was not a spellcaster, the book’s magic did all the work. He had only to say the right words and the book would display the passages of Mamette’s journal that were relevant.

  “Vampire death,” he said.

  Immediately pages of Mamette’s flowing writing rewarded his request. He started to flip the pages looking for the right words. It didn’t take him long to find ‘wooden stake’ and ‘fire’.

  In her later years, Mamette’s bitterness and rage about her condition caused her to explore ways to take her own life. She quickly found that her vampire half was not as eager to perish, and her obvious attempts to stand in the sun and drive a stake through her own heart did not work. She recruited and compelled her subjects to do the work for her, but inevitably she kept waking up in a ruined body but still lived nonetheless. Her companions, who were subjected to the same experiments that Mamette did on herself, were not so lucky. There was something about Mamette that was unusual.

  Mamette’s search for death became her obsession. Layers started to be added to layers as she observed the effects of her attempts. He wondered about the possibility that the vampires who accompanied Elvry into the capital city were special like Mamette. As Alron and several of his cohorts descended from Mamette, it seemed possible. Malin finally found the entry that he wanted to review.

  “As long as there were remains, my body continued to find a way to reanimate itself. I do not know if it is magic or by nature of my blood, but I only know that this existence stretches into eternity.”

  Malin had no way of knowing if Rhone’s guards actually even staked the vampires found at the hideaway. They could have easily been compelled, or magic might have been used to distract them. If the vampires had been killed, Elvry’s access to magic might have brought them back. This enemy had been gone from their memories for far too long that now the humans were at a distinct disadvantage, and there were too many unknowns. The only thing that was certain was that the creatures would need blood, and a lot of it, for their healing.

  There would be a trail of death.

  Rhone was right. They should cancel the Ascension ball. The entire palace should go into lockdown until they were certain that the vampires had been driven out of Brebackerin. But without Angeline there, Malin couldn’t risk that Corrinda would say or do something that would draw any further unwanted attention. A certain amount of pretense had to be continued, at least for the next little bit until Angeline returned.

  Malin had promised that he would take care of her kingdom while she searched for her cure. He had to do that, and he would do everything in his power to give it back to her the same way that she left it to him. It was the only way that he thought she might ever forgive him for his part in her father’s death.

  That decided, Malin knew that it was time for him to get ready. He had a ball to attend.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Angeline wasn’t sure if it was the wraith inside of her, or the fact that she felt so far away from her old life, or a combination of both, that drove her desire to find Connor as quickly as possible. She found that her concern for his whereabouts even trumped her desire to rid herself of t
he wraith. It was irrational, but the feeling was so strong she couldn’t shake it.

  Since entering the tunnels of the Clan’s home, she was already aware that it would be difficult to keep track of where she was in relation to where she had already been. From what she had seen so far, the door to her room was unmarked and looked like almost every other door that she had seen, and she didn’t want to get confused later on. She needed a sign that wouldn’t be immediately noticeable to anyone other than her, so the first thing she did was lean over and pull up the hem of her dress. She ripped a strip of the petticoat underneath free and then tied it around the knob of the door to her room.

  Satisfied that she had left at least one breadcrumb for her trail, she made her way down the tunnel, which in her mind she now equated to a hallway. She followed the circles of torchlight that illuminated the ground but barely stretched into the darkness beyond. The idea of living underground felt oppressive and unnatural to her. She wondered if there was more to the story of the Clan’s choice to live there than what Thomas chose to share with her.

  Becca’s slip earlier that Thomas could serve as a replacement for Angeline on the Alteran throne weighed heavily on her mind. Her family secrets grew by the day, and Angeline felt woefully behind. She felt a familiar rise of anger from her gut. Originally she blamed her father, but then she found out that it hadn’t been his fault that he left her wholly unprepared for the mess that she was in. She discovered that the Clan had been involved in his death, and with that knowledge she was certain they wouldn’t hesitate to remove her from the equation as well if they felt it suited their purposes. That was the main reason she felt she needed an ally at her side when she addressed the Council. She needed Connor. At least, that was how she rationalized her reckless decision to go find him when so many other things were at stake.

  The hallway slowly bent around into the darkness, and Angeline had a sense that she was moving around in a large circle. She wished for a piece of parchment so that she could draw a map, but she was going to have to be content relying on her memory. Normally that wouldn’t bother her, but she couldn’t help wondering if the wraith presence inside of her impaired more than her judgment.

  Her hand came up and slipped across the wall. It was cold and slightly damp. She imagined this was what a tomb felt like on the inside and shivered. Death seemed to permeate anything that had to do with the Clan. She had to be careful.

  After passing more doors than she could count, but encountering no one else in the passageways, Angeline started to feel unnerved. Hairs rose on the back of her neck, and she spun around, expecting to find someone standing right behind her, but the space was empty. Her wraith senses were on high alert. There was nothing but the subtle shift in the air that made her believe that she was no longer alone.

  She had a choice. She could go back to her room, or she could continue forward. Refusing to give into the possibility that what she was feeling was anything more than sensations that filled childish nightmares, she pressed forward, but she found that her feet moved more quickly.

  Finally, around another bend, she heard the faint rumblings of voices ahead. Her pace slowed, and she melded closer to the wall as she crept toward them.

  “Strangers in our midst, it ain’t right,” a woman’s voice grumbled. It had a hard edge to it that spoke to many years of life.

  “It could be the sign that we’ve been waiting for, Mother.” The answering voice was young and had a singsong quality to it. “I think it’s exciting.”

  “Bah! You are too young to remember the last time we had strangers among us. Look at where that got us. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been bothering the Council members with your questions either. Tonight is going to be an important event, and they have better things to do than entertain the silliness of a servant girl’s curiosity.”

  Angeline immediately felt sorry for the girl. She had been an inquisitive youth as well, but she knew that, by the very nature of being the crown princess, she was indulged even when people were impatient with her endless list of questions. She saw nothing wrong with a healthy curiosity. It was how a person learned the things in life that they needed to know.

  “No one has ever said they minded,” the girl replied, sounding slightly peevish.

  “You’re lucky. They do it because you are my daughter, but you are of an age now where it is less tolerated. It will reflect badly on me. So keep your tongue and mind your manners this evening.”

  Thomas said it was his intention to present Angeline to the Council. The meeting was shaping up to be a crucial one for sure if even the servants were being told to keep their mouths closed. Angeline had many questions about the nature of the Council and its leaders.

  “Yes, Mother. I need to take tea up to Councilman Shaw. His bones ache worse than usual. He asked for the special herb so that he can attend the meeting in comfort this evening.”

  “Councilman Shaw should have turned over his seat to his son years ago. He’s an old fool.” Clearly the girl’s mother was not a fan of Councilman Shaw. “Yes, there’s some over there on the shelf. Hurry back though. I need your help before the meeting starts.”

  Angeline held her breath. She didn’t know if she was about to be discovered or not. Her mind raced. She could play it off like she belonged there and hope that the girl didn’t notice, but she had a suspicion that she would be immediately identified as a stranger. Servants seemed to have a much keener eye to the comings and goings in a dwelling like this, and the girl likely knew every Clan member on sight. Angeline could go back around the corner and hope that the girl was not going to move in her direction, or she could try to sneak past the open door before the girl emerged.

  Angeline’s indecisiveness almost cost her, as the girl popped out into the passageway fortunately looking in the other direction. The girl carried a tray with a teapot on it and Angeline’s keen sense of smell picked up the scent of chamomile and something else that tugged at her memory as being familiar. Angeline pressed her back against the wall and prayed the girl was going in the other direction.

  Instead, the girl crossed the wide hallway and then disappeared into the shadows on the other side. Angeline waited several moments before she realized that the girl had somehow exited the passageway. She shifted over to the other side and crept carefully to the spot directly across from the open door. She could see flashes of movement in the room, which from the prep tables and hanging pots and pans that hung from the wall she deduced was one of the kitchens.

  The darkness was almost complete, but then Angeline’s eyes spied the shape of a staircase heading upward. Up above, she could see the faint glow of torchlight. She had no idea how the Clan members moved so efficiently through the tunnels unless their eyesight had adjusted over the years. Her wraith senses helped, but she still could only make out the outline and impressions of the stairs.

  She wasn’t quite sure what to do. She didn’t know what or who occupied the higher levels. She wasn’t sure where the passageway in front of her would lead. She had no clues yet as to where Connor was or if he was even in the Clan’s caverns at all. She needed more information to decide what to do next. She realized that kind of information could be easily gathered from an inquisitive girl who was excited about strangers.

  Angeline decided that the best course of action would be to pursue the girl. She could come up with a plausible excuse for why she wasn’t in her room, and then she’d ask the girl to take her back to it. Along the way, she’d try to ferret out the information she needed to find Connor.

  It was as good a plan as any, so Angeline put her foot on the first step and began the treacherous climb to the level above. She found that, after a few moments, she was able to see well enough that her movements were quicker. Then a shadow flashed in the light above. She figured it must be the girl. She had to catch her. Moving as quickly as she dared, Angeline soon found herself on a small landing standing in the pool of the light of the torch. After even the few minutes in the absol
ute darkness below, the light momentarily hurt her eyes. She saw the door exiting the stairwell was just completing its closing arc into the frame. The girl had left the stairwell here.

  Angeline opened the door slowly and peered outside. She was surprised. As opposed to the lower level, the passageway in front of her now was well lit. She could see the slim form of the girl at the far end of the hallway. The girl knocked on the door and slipped inside an instant later.

  Stepping out into the hallway, Angeline observed other things that made the passageway in front of her different than the one below. Here, thick rugs ran along the floor and sprung up to cradle her feet. Low tables ran along the walls with different sculptures and glasswork on them. Along the opposite wall, oil paintings depicted scenes of battle. Angeline stepped closer to examine them.

  The mountains of Gilnor were distinctive in the background, so it was obvious that the scene was on the plains of what would become known as the Forgotten Lands on the south side of Altera. A man rode at the front of a column of knights. Even in miniature, Alair Robart’s features were clear. On the other side, slung down low against the ground with their talon hands and pale complexions came the vampires. With fangs bared, the fact that they were fewer in number didn’t matter. The menace in their faces made them frightening.

  The painting gave her a small measure of comfort. Even within the walls of the Clan, it seemed the Robart family carried some credibility.

  “I heard he was quite brave.”

  Angeline jumped, and her hand rose to her throat as she felt her heart pounding against her chest. The girl that she recognized from the brief glance when she exited the kitchen stood at her elbow smiling at her.

  “Indeed,” Angeline said, her mind emptied of her cover story.