by M. K. Dawn
“I know exactly what you’re capable of.” Samantha pressed her lips together at the sight of Silvaria crouched at Guinevere’s feet. “Which is why I am here, dressed and ready for the ball.”
“Let me make one thing clear.” In the little time Samantha had known Guinevere, she’d never seen the woman so out of control. “You have one job tonight: convince the heirs—all the heirs—to speak with you in private.”
“And my punishment if I don’t comply? Bringing the heirs to you means death for all immortals. There’s not much else you can hold over my head.”
Guinevere glared down at Silvaria. “She’s not an immortal. If you don’t do what I tell you, I will make her life a living hell. The pain she will endure will have no bounds. Plus, I will still obtain all the heirs and kill all the immortals.”
“So, if I help you bring together all the heirs, when this is over, you will set Silvaria free?”
“Yes.” Guinevere motioned to the witch to her left. “You know the location.”
A powerful wind swept over the group and dissipated just as fast. Samantha opened her eyes not to the forest, but what looked to be an office building. “Where are we?”
“Across the street from the banquet hall.” Guinevere jerked her head towards the window. “Looks as if the ball has already begun. You best hurry. Remember, once you have all the heirs together in a private location, call out for me.”
Samantha caught Silvaria’s dead eyes, which she hoped was still an act. “I know what to do. I’ll see you soon.”
Cars honked as Samantha darted across the street in the direction of the banquet hall. The sooner she found the heirs, the sooner this nightmare would be over.
She passed dozens of people all dressed in white, much of their clothing already tainted with blood.
For a party that had advertised livestreaming, Samantha didn’t see a single camera. She hadn’t seen the announcement televised; didn’t know if it shared the exact location where the bloodshed would take place. Though she figured wherever the massacre happened, the heirs would be center stage.
Not a single guard stood watch at the entrance of the banquet hall. Samantha didn’t think this was invitation only sort of event, but she figured the vampires would at least try to keep out those who might oppose this sort of moral depravity.
The aroma of fresh human blood bombarded her senses as she entered the main hall. Music blared and lights flashed as people moved to the rhythm of the music. As she pushed through the crowd, Samantha quickly realized the couples she thought were grinding against each weren’t dancing, they were feeding or being fed on.
Samantha choked back the bile burning her throat. The few times she fed from the vein, she had made sure the human didn’t experience pain or fear. These people—these victims—didn’t have that luxury. Although they weren’t fighting their attackers as they violently sucked blood from a multitude of puncture wounds, their eyes still exhibited the terror they had felt seconds before being bitten.
“Miss,” a soft voice whispered in her ear.
Samantha whirled around, worried someone recognized her, but relieved to be face to face with a waiter carrying a tray of champagne.
“Drink, madam?”
The last thing Samantha needed was alcohol clouding her judgment. “No, thank you.”
The portly man lifted a glass from the center of the tray. “I must insist. Each glass comes with its own fortune. A fortune designed for its possessor and its possessor alone.”
“Is that so?” Samantha eyed the multitude of glasses, each with a small scroll attached by a ribbon at the base of the stem. “Then shouldn’t I pick my own?”
She reached for a glass and he moved the tray out from her reach, giving her the champagne, he’d already selected. “This is the one you want. Guaranteed.”
Before she could argue, he disappeared in the crowd.
For a moment, she considered dropping the glass off at the nearest table. After all, she hadn’t come here to take part, but to put an end to this madness. But there was something about the man—the way he insisted she’d take this glass in particular—that caused her to pause.
She broke the tiny scroll from the stem of her glass and unraveled the paper. Her heart leaped as she read the small print.
Bring them upstairs. Third door to the right. We’ll be ready. E & D.
Tears welled behind Samantha’s eyelids. These past few days she’d forced herself to stay confident about the fate of her friends. Now, with confirmation they were here, a sliver of the tension she’d been holding on to slipped away, replaced by sheer determination. Whatever she had to do to convince the heirs to speak with her in private, she’d make it happen.
If she could find them.
Samantha thought they would be here in the main ballroom, out in the open for everyone to see. This was, after all, their idea; their play on power. Why wouldn’t they show up to flaunt that power before the world?
While Samantha wandered through the crowd, her eyes upward and away from the hell disguised as a party, she heard whispers of a grand entrance coming up. What it entailed, she didn’t know, but Samantha guessed it had to do with missing heirs.
A quarter till midnight, vampires made their way to the stage. The music lowered and the flashing lights faded until the room descended into darkness.
Samantha pushed her way to the front of the crowd as far left as she could go and still be able to see. The last thing she wanted was for the heirs to spot her first.
As she got into place, the stage illuminated the room with a light so bright it took Samantha a few seconds to regain her vision.
The crowd went wild at the sight of the heirs. Each of the five wore white and sat motionless on the white plush furniture—a stark contrast to the black curtain hanging behind them. It wasn’t the heirs’ demeanor that turned her insides, but the human victims that kneeled before them, shock collars secured around their necks.
Ivy Satran, daughter of Council Member Vespera, hushed the crowd with a single raise of her pale hand. Flipping her waist length red hair over her shoulder, she rose and paraded toward the edge of the stage, tugging at the chain attached to her human’s neck.
“Welcome,” her voice boomed. “Is everyone having a good time?”
The crowded erupted again.
“Good.” Her face brightened as she turned to a camera that Samantha hadn’t noticed. “To the humans watching at home: as you’re probably aware we—formally Sanguines—have come to recognize what we truly are: vampires. We will no longer suppress our true nature. No longer play the role of pacifist. No longer be locked away behind a wall. Tonight, and every night going forward will belong to us.”
Ivy yanked the chain of the human cowering behind her and brought his throat to her protruding teeth. The sound of bones crushing beneath Ivy’s bite echoed in Samantha’s ears. As did the ripping of flesh when Ivy ripped out his throat.
Just when Samantha thought she’d couldn’t take any more, an explosion rocked the building. Glasses and plates shattered, and a chandelier crashed on an empty table, sending debris in all directions.
No one moved, but over the hush Samantha could hear what sounded like laughter coming from the stage. She jerked her head towards the now bloodied heirs, none whom looked surprise at the commotion.
“Like I said.” Ivy laughed. “We will no longer be locked away behind a wall.”
The horde of vampires pushed their way to the exit, taking even those who didn’t move along with them. The nearest door ruptured and Samantha nearly fell as they shoved her outside.
The faint smell of smoke tickled her nose as she regained her footing. The surrounding vampires watched in awe at the fire burning in the distance.
Samantha’s hand flew to her mouth, desperate to suppress her horror as the masses cheered.
The heirs had demolished the only barrier that protected the humans from the vampires. They had brought down the wall.
CHAPTER FIFT
Y-FOUR
“What the fuck!” Darrien grabbed hold of Evie and pulled her close as pictures flew from the walls and shelves crashed to the ground.
Ethan rushed to the window. “Shit. They blew up the wall.”
“Impossible.” Darrien had to see for himself, his brain unable to comprehend what Ethan said.
“You can see the line of fire and smoke.” Ethan pointed to the horizon. “It doesn’t end.”
Darrien hit his earpiece. “Nikko, come in.”
“I am here.” Darrien could hardly hear him over the chaos. “Did you see they destroyed the wall?”
“Yeah. What’s the situation down there?”
Nikko coughed. “A thick cloud of smoke has made its way to the city. It will make our job more difficult.”
Darrien watched the streets below, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. “What are the vampires doing?”
“There is an apartment building up the street. Many have come out of their homes. They appear to be just as surprised as we are.”
“That won’t last long. Keep me posted.” Darrien turned back to Ethan. “Well, this adds a whole other layer of fuckery to the mix.”
Ethan didn’t respond. In fact, he wasn’t even paying attention to Darrien. Instead, his eyes focused on Tito.
“Ethan?” Darrien moved to his side. “What’s wrong?”
“You did this,” Ethan spat. “That’s what the other packs were doing. Setting this up.”
A sinful smile stretched across Tito’s face. “If you expect me to deny it, then you don’t know me very well.”
“Why?” Evie’s voice cracked. “The vampires may not be able to drink the blood of werewolves, but they can of those who have not transformed.”
“Ivy and I have come to a consensus.” Tito scratched at the scuff on his chin. “We bring down the wall, they will not harm any members of our packs and will provide us with a steady supply of vampire blood.”
Darrien couldn’t believe Tito’s stupidity. “The vampires out there didn’t even know the wall was coming down. You really believe they know anything about the promises Ivy made to you?”
Tito growled. “She will make it clear during her broadcast tonight.”
Ethan stalked forward until he stood inches from Tito’s face. “How long ago did you make this arrangement with Ivy?”
“I suggest you get out of my face, pup.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m a hell of a lot stronger than you can imagine.”
Ethan stood his ground. “How long?”
“She contacted me a few weeks ago. I refused, thinking the vampires were all going to be dead soon anyway. But when you shed light on the witches’ true motives, I took her up on her offer.”
Evie threw up her arms. “Why are you even here?”
“Hey!” He jabbed his finger at her. “Just because I helped the heirs doesn’t mean I can’t help stop this spell. The way I see it, we’re on the same side now. Immortals verses witches.”
“What about the humans?” Evie asked.
“Like I give a rat’s ass about the humans.”
Darrien had just about all he could take and was about to go off when Oliver called him through his earpiece in a blind panic. “Darrien! They just announced it. C.J. and the others. Oh, God!”
“Oliver,” Darrien drawled, hoping the male would match his tone, “take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.”
“The heirs,” he gasped. “The execution. It’s about to start.”
“Meet me in the kitchen.” The sound of his heartbeat thrashed in his ears. “I have to go. The execution is about to start. I have to get C.J. and the others out of there.”
Evie’s eyes met his. “I’m coming with you.”
“No,” he raced for the door, “stay and help Ethan. I’m meeting The Forsaken downstairs.”
“Be careful.”
“Or don’t,” Tito mocked as Darrien passed him.
Darrien didn’t even think as he swung his fist and landed a sucker-punch square against Tito’s jaw.
Out cold, Tito dropped to the floor, a thin line of blood oozing from his lip.
“Oops.” As strong as they were in wolf form, they were no match for a pissed off vampire while human. “You didn’t need him, did you?”
“Nah.” Ethan kicked at Tito’s limp arm. “He’d probably side with the witches if the price was right. Get out of here. We’ve got this.”
Darrien grabbed a black duffel bag and sprinted from the room and into the kitchen where The Forsaken waited.
Oliver grabbed Darrien’s arm, still frantic. They had never sent him on a mission for good reason. “What are we going to do?”
“Where do they hold the executions?”
“In the back courtyard.” Oliver trembled as he spoke. “What are we going to do?”
“You,” Darrien forced him in a chair, “will wait here.”
“What?” Oliver tried to stand, but Darrien held him in place. “I want to help.”
“You can’t even talk about this without having a panic attack. The best you can do is stay here.”
Darrien dropped the duffel bag on the floor and opened it up to an array of guns. “These bullets aren’t deadly, but they’ll hurt like a bitch. Firing off a bunch of rounds should cause a big enough distraction so we can get our people out of there.”
“Who’s firing the guns and who’s doing the rescuing?” Franki, a beefy male with tattoos sleeves, asked.
“I’ll grab our guys.” Darrien tossed guns to those who volunteered to help. “The rest of you will create the diversion. Let’s go.”
The ballroom had cleared except for the numerous human bodies lying dead on the floor. The sight only pushed Darrien to move faster. By the looks on the faces of The Forsaken, there would be a lot of vampires in some serious pain soon.
They followed the signs to the courtyard where the executions had already begun. Two wooden platforms had been erected in the square's center; one for the detainees and the other for six archers. The arrows Darrien recognized; made from the same wood as those that nearly killed Evie.
The heirs were also present, seated to the right of the staged area laughing and drinking, not a care in the world.
Darrien motioned the others to go around back. Before Franki headed out, Darrien pulled him aside and whispered in his ear, “Don’t shoot the heirs.”
Franki nodded and headed off after the others.
Darrien started in the opposite direction, behind the detainees’ platform where those awaiting execution stood in line. It took him a minute, but he finally spotted C.J., Laurent, and a handful of others at the front, waiting for the platform.
He didn’t chance contacting Franki—there were too many ears around. He’d have to believe they had seen the same thing and would be ready in time. If not, he’d have to use the handgun tucked in the back of his jeans. It wouldn’t buy him enough time to race in and save them, but he hoped it would cause a distraction—at least Laurent would know to get them the hell out of there.
“Next round of criminals, please,” the redheaded heir, Ivy, ordered.
Darrien watched as two guards forced C.J. and Laurent up the stairs to their impending death. “Come on, Franki.”
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Samantha wandering behind the crowd towards the heirs. He moved closer, careful not to draw too much attention to himself. Calling out to her would be too risky, but if he could get close enough…
She paused and rose to her tiptoes to see over the crowd. He came up behind her and she startled.
“Time to play hero,” he whispered before she could turn around.
Her body went rigid and with a little head nod, he knew she understood. He took off without looking back, his eyes trained on his brother.
“Fire when ready!” the heir announced.
And they did. Not the archer, but The Forsaken.
Screams cut through the night and vampires scattered. Many fell to the ground, writhing in pa
in.
Darrien cut through the crowd, knocking anyone who got in his way into the dirt. When he reached the platform, C.J. and Laurent were gone. Darrien scanned the courtyard, but there were too many bodies moving in every direction he couldn’t pinpoint anyone he knew.
“Darrien!” C.J. called out through the chaos.
He rotated around. “Where are you!”
“Right here.” C.J. came up behind him and threw his bruised arm around Darrien’s neck. “What took you so long?”
“Where are the others?” As much as Darrien wanted to enjoy this moment, his brother wasn’t the only one who needed saving.
Laurent hobbled up, five others trailing close behind. “We’re here. How the hell—”
“Freeze.”
Darrien spun around to a Dire Fir arrow pointed at his heart.
“You did this?” the archer yelled over the commotion.
“Yes.” Darrien attempted to move in front of C.J, his fingers itching for his gun. “My brother and comrades were about to be executed. Can’t say I was okay with that.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” The archer readied the bow. “Now, step aside.”
“You’ll have to kill me first.”
The archer smiled. “Okay.”
“I don’t think so!” a voice screamed, startling the archer as a knife sunk in his chest.
“Oliver!” C.J. pushed past Darrien, embracing him in a way that suggested they were more than just friends.
Laurent patted Darrien on the back. “Did you know?”
“I had my suspicions.” Darrien took a moment to relish his brother’s happiness. It had been a long time since he’d seen such joy in C.J.’s eyes. “We don’t really do the mushy stuff.”
Laurent laughed. “I’ve noticed. How did you guys get in here?”
Darrien’s eyes flickered to where the heirs sat. “It’s a long story. Get to the kitchen. The rest are waiting. Things are about to get real.”
“What do you mean?” Laurent scanned the area. “This is everybody. We need to get the hell out of here.”
