They all wore the same thing: monklike cloaks with hoods pushed back and sleeves that drooped as they drank from chalices of something that might’ve been wine or blood. An empty chair was set between each one, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who the guests of honor were going to be.
Seven vampires, seven empty chairs. This had last stop written all over it.
Rough hands grabbed me from behind and foisted me toward the table into a seat.
Next to Jacob.
Ancient German monk, sadist, and ballroom dancing enthusiast. I’d know Jacob anywhere. It was in one of his dungeons that I’d first met Carden, so long ago now. I’d dressed up like a maid and rescued my Scottish vampire from under his nose—a fact which, I’m sure, hadn’t exactly made Jacob my greatest fan.
“I see the girl who pretended to be a scullery is actually one of the true blooded,” he said in his thickly accented voice. He steepled his fingers as he stared at me. “How wondrous that you stumbled into my little web. They claim you are smart,” he added with a wry smile, “but it seems to me you’ve been more lucky than bright.”
I’d show him lucky.
But I made myself school my features. I wasn’t going to be reckless Drew any longer.
His attention went back to the door and he snapped his fingers. “Quickly, quickly now.”
One-by-one, the other girls were led inside. Kenzie and Regina, a Watcher named Clara, two Guidons, and two new girls.
A cold plume of dread spiraled through my belly. There were eight of us. And there were seven chairs.
“Stop,” Jacob commanded. He rose and stepped to the girls, who were barely standing, slumped against their captors. Slowly, he went one by one, inhaling deeply the neck of each captive. He paused at one of the new girls—so new, I didn’t even know her name. “This one is expendable.”
I hopped to my feet. “Wait—”
But it was no good. One of Jacob’s lackeys slashed her throat without hesitation.
I was shaking as I dropped back into my seat. The other girls were led to their own chairs, where they all slumped, looking catatonic, obviously drugged.
I sent up yet another silent curse at Ronan. How could he betray us like this?
“Surprised to see your friends?” Jacob’s aged skin pulled into countless wrinkles as he focused on me, studying me. “Or, wait. Are they your friends? I was under the impression that you had none. Well, there’s Carden, I suppose.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But he’s being taken care of.”
Carden. I’m the one who got him into this. And he was suffering for it.
The misericordia pulsed in my boot. Time telescoped, and suddenly, I knew—everything I’d endured, every move I’d made, every decision, it’d all lead to this moment.
I would stake Jacob.
His death might not take down the entire Synod, but it sure would cripple it in a major way. The power vacuum on the Isle of Night was nothing compared to what would happen if I were to rid the Synod of its leader. The impact would reverberate across all the isles.
Could I do it?
I hardened myself just a little bit more. I’d sensed I was a goner when I stepped into that elevator, but contemplating one’s own death was one thing—it was quite another to run headlong toward it.
I cut a look at the old monk. I could do it, and I would. But I needed to act decisively. I was out of options—it was time for the run headlong stage of this game.
And if it saved just one of my friends, it would be worth it. If I didn’t make it out—and I probably wouldn’t—I had to believe my mother would’ve been proud. If I truly was her daughter, she’d want this bastard taken down once and for all.
“Carden means nothing to me,” I lied. To stake Jacob, I needed to get close, and I scooted my chair until it abutted his.
His eyes widened in surprise. “I’m glad to hear you say it. He has been a thorn in my side. Now that he’s been taken care of, it will be a pleasure to”—his gaze strayed to my neck and lingered there—“sample the storied Annelise.”
Repressing a shudder, I leaned on the arm of my chair. I let my hand graze his.
I had nothing to lose. Nothing.
And nothing would be accomplished by half-measures. If these ancient asshats thought they were getting some hapless teenager, then that was what I’d give them. Let them think I was a fool. I’d been a fool in truth for so much of my life anyway. Time to capitalize on my biggest talent.
I leaned back in my chair and gave him my blandest expression. “This is all very Medieval.”
One of the vampires overheard and shot me an incredulous glare. “Would you like to lie upon the table that we might pry open your ribs and feast?”
“Ignore her,” Jacob said to his companion. “Annelise merely toys with us. Don’t you?” He reached a cold, clawlike finger to touch my cheek, tracing slowly down my jaw. “You’re a clever one. All the better to build my clever army, nurtured by your blood.”
A commotion at the door drew everyone’s attention. A female captive was being dragged inside the room. Two figures held her, and I could tell by a flash of fangs that they were vampires, brawny ones—which meant she was important. She was small and slim, and her long, hooded robe told me she was Vampire, not Acari.
Her head lolled, and a sheet of long hair spilled from her hood. The shade, the texture, it was as familiar to me as my own.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My nonchalant mask dropped and I gasped. “Is that…?”
“Is this…?” Jacob peered at me, reading my expression, then back to the hooded figure. “Ah! You think this your mother.” He clapped once, his laugh a sudden bark. “No, our Birgit has grown too weak. She no longer needs shackling.” He watched me, keeping that amused grin on his face, and let the silence stretch. Finally, he said, “But I am feeling generous. I have decided that, when we are done here, I will put you in the same cell. Mother and daughter, together at last. Won’t that be lovely?”
It was probably a sign of just how bad my situation had gotten, but damned if I didn’t feel a little uptick in my confidence. If, in some universe, I might’ve shared a cell with my mother, then anything was possible.
I answered his smile with one of my own. “And here I thought you were going to kill me.”
“Kill you? Of course not. Not when you could keep us strong for years to come.”
Be imprisoned as a long-term feeder for these creeps or die killing them instead? No contest.
“You mean like she’s doing?” I cut another look at the prisoner. It was Sonja, I realized. She was out of it, the neck of her cloak soaked with her own blood—far diminished from when I’d first seen her in the keep, commanding a room of Trainees as she cut the heart from my roommate.
How formidable was Jacob that he could bring down someone as powerful as her?
“Not like Sonja at all,” Jacob said dismissively. “She’s being questioned. It remains to be seen whether or not she lives through the day.” He shrugged. “You should be relieved. It’s my understanding she wants you dead. Very, very much so, in fact. You might say I’ve saved you.”
There was a beat of silence. Did he really expect my appreciation? A quick scan of the sheer might in the room told me now was not the time to disobey. “Um, thank you, I guess?”
Jacob gave me a courtly nod and turned his attention back to the door. “Now. Sonja.”
When she didn’t answer, her captors gave her a shake.
“Sonja,” Jacob barked, “look upon me.”
She slowly raised her chin, presenting a look of defiance that surprised me. Not as diminished as I’d thought. She’d once commanded Alcántara to deliver me for her sacrificial table, and seeing her now, I had to fight against my gut response to flee, to hide.
“Is this the child you seek?” he demanded.
As her eyes found me, something in her gaze crystallized, those pale blue irises flash-freezing on me. “How—?”
“How did
we get her after you so carelessly let her slip through your grasp?” Jacob chuckled and kicked back in his seat. “Your sister, Freya, is loyal to the old ways. She wishes to make peace.” With a grand sweep of his hand, he took in all the girls in the room. “This is her offering.”
Sonja’s attention snapped from me back to Jacob. “Don’t trust my sister. This is a trick. She’s loyal to no one. Especially not a bunch of old men.” She cast a derisive look over the other vampires at the table. “Her ways are much older than the oldest of you.”
“Are you saying that deceit runs in your family?”
“I am saying strength does.” Sonja enunciated each word with slow, cold precision. “Deceit, however, is a lesson, and it’s one my sister has studied well.”
A low buzz of discussion hummed through the room. I threw my senses wide, studying faces and tics, trying to get a sense of who were allies and who were enemies.
One of the vampires raised his voice above the din. “I believe Sonja is jealous.”
“Or angry,” another said. He grabbed the lifeless Acari beside him and pulled her chin from side to side. “These children are the fruits of her isle, after all.”
“What say you, Sonja?” Jacob asked. “Is it anger, jealousy, or something else which we read on your face? Treachery, perhaps? Is your plan to take down the Synod, and this is why you cannot seem to manage affairs on your own island? Your leaders die, soldiers break faith, weapons go missing…”
I sucked in a breath, which thankfully nobody noticed.
Sonja pulled her shoulders back, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d have guessed she was six-feet tall instead of five. “It is betrayal you read on my face, Brother Jacob. Because if you claim this child for your own, it is you who betray me. It is I who first found Annelise. And then Freya stole the child for her own. It is Freya who wishes to take down the Synod.”
At these words, several of the vampires shifted in their seats as though to attack, but Jacob raised a hand to still them. “I am listening, Sonja.”
She gestured to me. “She is the only daughter of Birgit, with blood that is pure on both sides, and it is I who first brought you this information—not Freya.”
“You thought to keep the child for your own,” one of the vampires said. “While Freya gives her freely to us as a gift.”
“As an accident.” Sonja’s voice vibrated through the room, resonating through my body. “The stupid child stumbled into Freya’s offering, and now my sister thinks to claim the credit. You think to take her from me. That, gentlemen, is betrayal.”
My mind raced. If Jacob handed me off to Sonja, then that was it for everyone I cared about. I’d die in vain, having helped nobody.
“I will consider it,” Jacob said finally. “Now leave us.”
She looked pissed. “I will not—”
“Silence. You will either leave this room in peace, or you will be brought to a cell where you can think more deeply upon your options. Now, I will sample this fabled child myself. One does not rise so high as I have by accepting without question the word of others.”
There was a tense beat of silence, then Sonja gave a perfunctory bow of her head.
“Now, gentlemen.” Jacob turned from her to address his companions, the composed host once again.
Not me, though. I sat there with a belly full of ice. Sonja was out there, and if I didn’t manage to kill Jacob, I’d be fed on, probably passed around, then delivered to her on a silver platter.
Even if I was able to kill Jacob and by some miracle managed to flee this room, I might still have to face her. And you knew your situation sucked when that was the bright side.
As these thoughts tumbled through my head, the vampires began talking among themselves again, swilling from those crazy Medieval-looking goblets and joking…look at these children…weak…how soft they are. Soft. Heh-heh.
Congratulations went around, a salute to the new Rising. Toasts were made to fallen allies. A protracted moment was spent revering Dagursson. Less time spent on Fournier.
They discussed Sonja—her possible treachery weighed against that of her sister’s. How Alcántara wasn’t to be trusted, regardless. They mulled over who else could be installed as leader of the Isle of Night. How they’d need to maintain détente with the other islands to keep the balance of power. Who they’d install where to preserve the old order.
If the names they tossed around were any indication, this “world order” didn’t make a lot of space for females. These guys were the oldest of old school.
Rescuing my mother had become a quaint notion. Now it was just about staking Jacob, and I’d be lucky if I was able to pull the blade from my boot and make it to his heart before getting skewered myself. It would’ve helped if I didn’t have to go it alone.
I turned my attention to the other Acari, hoping to find a sign of life among their slack faces. I knew I could’ve trusted them to help—Regina was there, as was Kenzie, and they’d both been my allies on the Isle—but they were all completely out of it.
I was on my own.
In fact, I was their only hope.
And by the strange hush that was settling over the room, it appeared feeding time had begun.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Each vampire scooped a girl into his arms. Soon, pale, feminine hands and sheets of hair in all colors were splayed atop the table as Acari sprawled lifeless, veins spilling their lifeblood. The room quickly grew silent but for muted moans and the occasional sucking sound.
Beside me, Jacob cleared his throat.
Panic was a vise on my chest. My turn.
I swallowed convulsively, then swallowed again. Flexed my ankle. Was it time for the misericordia? Would it ever be a good time?
His thin, wizened lips curled into a smile. “Is there a problem, Annelise?”
There was no way to get to the blade now. He was watching me too closely. It felt like he saw everything. Like he already knew everything.
I needed him to be distracted. Which meant I needed to let him begin to feed.
“No,” I managed. “No problem. So…how should we do this?”
The only vampire I’d ever fed was Carden, and my mind went back to the first time. He’d been wrinkly then, too. Would Jacob’s skin plump up as Carden’s had? No, Jacob was recognizably much older—had been old when he’d been turned. Carden, meanwhile, hadn’t looked aged so much as he’d been…desiccated.
Jacob leaned over and wrapped an awkward arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. He ran a finger along the pulse at my neck. “Such power indeed. I can sense it flowing beneath your skin.”
A private little chamber in my heart grew cold. Had Carden sensed my power, too? Was that why he’d wanted to bond with me? I’d always thought it was because he’d been attracted to me, but what if I’d been wrong all along? What if, all this time, the only thing he’d been attracted to was the purity of my blood?
But no, I told myself, Carden had never used that power. Which meant he hadn’t been using me.
Even if I were wrong, I needed something good to cling to just now.
Jacob tucked his face into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply. He held his breath for a moment, then exhaled a creepy little shivery sigh of anticipation. “I can smell it. Pure. Unsullied.”
I had to fight the urge to pull away. The puff of his cool breath along my bare skin repulsed me. “Just get on with it,” I heard myself say.
Considering my current position, it was probably stupid to be anything less than completely respectful, but I couldn’t help it. Doubts about Carden—not to mention my growing horror about what was about to go down here—left me with a tenuous grasp on common sense.
Jacob didn’t like my comment—no surprise there—and he pulled back to catch my eye. “Children of this era need to learn their lessons. How to be biddable. Compliant.” Long, bony fingers curled into my shoulders. “You will regret you didn’t yield more cheerfully. Perhaps if you show yourself to be more dutiful
now, you might earn the privilege of remaining at this table.”
Biddable, compliant, dutiful, and freaking cheerful? As though I were some lowly wench in the Middle Ages praying the big boys might be so benevolent as to toss her some crumbs.
I ducked my chin in a submissive gesture. It was a way to feign obedience, but mostly it hid the look of pure rage I felt burning on my face. Because Jacob was a toad of a man who should’ve died hundreds of years ago, and as his sharp nails curled into my flesh, I vowed anew—this vampire would die tonight, if I had to trade my own life to make it happen.
“That is more like it,” he said, sounding pleased. “Shall we begin?”
With a nod, I stooped into position. I didn’t need to feign submissive trembling—I was pretty much scared out of my mind.
I forced myself to keep my eyes open. I would remain aware through this whole thing. He might bite me, but he didn’t own me. I would be in control of my mind. My will.
And then he pounced.
Breath whooshed from my body at the assault. When Carden had fed from me that first time, it’d been a quick prick of my skin followed by subtle pressure. Not this, though. This was a bite—violent, painful. Ravenous. He’d grabbed me and was holding on tight, sucking with gusto.
Appreciation for Carden surged through me. It’d been so different with him, from the very start. Maybe I could still save him. I had to try. Which meant getting on with this plan.
I slid my hand from my lap. Bent my knee. Began to reach for my boot. I’d kill this bastard. And then I’d stake as many of these monsters as I could before they brought me down.
But my movement must’ve jarred him from his reverie because he pulled away. “You are powerful. I taste it. And it is intoxicating.” Jacob gazed at me as though he were a lover and whispered, “We will be as one, you and I.” And then he leaned in. His eyes were on my lips. His mouth was slick with my blood.
Oh shit. Was he going for a kiss? Oh hell to the no.
I twitched away, but his hands only grasped me closer.
Then it hit me. Oh God. No. The first time Carden had fed, we’d become bonded. He’d fed, and then we’d kissed. It’d been the kiss that bonded us.
Reckoning (The Watchers Book 5) Page 15
