by E. M. Knight
And I am curious. Curious as to whom they are, about what they represent, curious about their connection to April, curious about their knowledge of me and my kind in general.
It takes a certain type of lunatic to seek out a vampire sanctuary of his or her own free will. Yet these people did exactly that. And they did it not because they welcome death. They welcome us, the children of the night, but they do not wish to die.
If only they understood that vampires are the only true harbingers of death in this world.
I sit back on my haunches in the midst of the stinking bodies and think. My presence now is the only thing keeping the predators away. If I abandon this group…
I make up my mind. I’ll give them until daybreak. When the sun rises, I’ll have no choice but to go underground. By then, if enough of them have awakened, they’ll survive on their own. If not…?
Well, if not, then the fault lies squarely with them—and I will bear no guilt over their deaths.
Chapter Thirty-Five
SMITHSON
OUTSIDE RAUL’S ROOM
The scream that sounds in the distance sounds vaguely familiar. But with the amount of blood I’ve lost, I don’t have the capacities needed to make the connection.
The door to Raul’s room bursts open. Phillip—gods, how I loathe him, him above all the rest—runs out.
His eyes flicker to me.
“Is that surprise?” I chuckle. “You thought I’d be gone, didn’t you? But as I’ve said all along, boy—my loyalties are here.”
He goes to his knees immediately at my side and presses a hand over my biggest, still-bleeding wound. “You’re not healing,” he says, a touch of concern present in his voice.
“A demon will do that to you,” I say. My fingers itch to wrap around the knife hidden at my waist and sink it into Phillip’s heart.
Is he truly so naïve as to expose himself to me like this?
He grimaces and pulls back. “Will you heal?”
“I suppose so,” I say. “I’m not dead yet. I’ve got more fight in me than you know.”
He nods. “Then you’re coming with me.”
He hauls me to my feet. Pain shoots through my body with every sharp movement. But I do not show it—just like I do nothing to hide the utter disdain I have for needing help like this.
Especially from him.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You heard the scream.”
“Where’s Eleira? Where’s your brother, Raul?”
“Gone,” he tells me.
“What?” Alarm takes me. “What do you mean, gone? Gone where?”
“Vampires from The Crypts…” Phillip begins. Then he stops. “I shouldn’t be telling you.”
“From The Crypts?” A mix of rage and incredulity takes me. “You let the coven’s most prized possession be taken by vampires from The Crypts?”
“I don’t need to justify anything to you,” he grunts.
An insane sort of laughter bursts up from inside me. I cannot stop it. “It’s not me you should be worried about, you fool!” I exclaim. “It’s the Queen. It’s the Royal Court. If you think they will take news of this sort lightly—”
“I don’t need your advice,” he snaps. “Besides,” he adds under his breath. “I doubt the Queen is in any position to protest.”
“What do you mean?”
“Damn you, what do you think I mean? The Queen is unconscious. She was attacked—” his eyes widen in realization. “You didn’t know.”
“Of course I didn’t know. I was held prisoner on your orders.”
“The Narwhark struck her down,” Philip says. “What I don’t understand is how it attacked you and left you standing.”
“I’m tougher than I look. Even in prisoner’s garbs.”
“You’re not as strong as the Queen,” he says. “There’s something else.” And then he exclaims, half to himself, “Of course! The tail.”
“What?” I grunt.
“It did not touch you with its tail. Did it?”
“No. Only its claws and fangs.” I shake my head. “Idiot.”
“Watch it,” Phillip warns.
I shut my mouth. I’m pushing my luck. And if I continue to interact so negatively with him, well, I wouldn’t put it past myself to actually use that hidden blade of mine.
“Can you run?” Phillip asks.
“Does it look like I can run?” I snarl.
“Then hold on to me,” he says. He hoists me onto his back. My arms go around his neck. He runs…
We arrive at the entrance of my former cell, with the two guards’ bodies lying mutilated on the floor.
Cowering against the opposite wall, with both hands over her mouth, is that wretched human girl, April.
Phillip gasps the moment he sees her. He lets me go and runs to her.
He whispers something in her ear as he wraps both hands around her shoulders. She starts shaking her head and then begins muttering, muttering, muttering something I have no interest in listening to.
My attention, instead, is drawn to the two bodies.
This is the first time I’ve ever had the chance to examine the Narwhark’s handiwork. The first time I’ve had the chance to do so dispassionately.
The damn Soren brothers robbed me of the opportunity when they buried Patricia before.
While Phillip is dealing with the human, I crouch down by the guards. Their throats are ripped out. Neither of them looks like he had any chance to defend himself.
Why, then, did the Narwhark not kill me the same way? Why did it strike at me only as a chew-toy?
Was it savoring the moment before the kill? Did it take a certain pervasive pleasure in acting as the most fearsome predator in The Haven?
All my knowledge of demons from my time with the Order tells me that they are intelligent creatures. But all of that is drawn from second-hand accounts. The Vorcellian Order has never actually had a demon in its grasp…
Few know, I suspect, how valuable that would be.
None, other than I, of those in the Order, have such knowledge.
Some knowledge is better left unshared.
I lift one of the guard’s shoulders to turn him over. I make a face when I see the hole in his chest. His heart is gone—the demon obviously fed on it.
It’s a measure of my fascination, or perhaps more of my weakened state, when I feel Phillip’s hand on my shoulder.
I did not sense him walking over.
“Get away from them,” he commands.
I let go of the dead vampire. The limp body falls to the ground.
I turn and look up.
Phillip is standing directly between April and me. The girl is doing all she can to not meet my eyes.
“She was sent here to deliver a message to you,” Phillip says. His voice has gone ice cold. “A message from Carter. Do you have any idea why that might be?”
“None,” I lie.
“Then you won’t mind if it doesn’t get delivered.” Phillip holds a folded piece of paper up. “Or, I suppose, if it got intercepted along the way.”
I force my facial features into a mask of indifference. “I hold no secrets from the Captain Commander.”
Phillip scoffs. “Right.” He stuffs the letter in his pocket. “This is where we part, Smithson. The cell—” he nods toward it, “—is waiting for you.”
“Oh, that’s cruel,” I say with a sneer. “You’re going to leave me here, right where the demon can find me again, is that it? As payback for your pathetic friend, Patricia, if I don’t miss my mark.”
“I’m not leaving you as bait,” Phillip says. “I am not so sadistic as that. But I do need you somewhere I know you won’t be a nuisance.”
“Let me help, then,” I say. “You let Eleira and Raul go. You think the Royal Court will look favorably upon that? You’ve neglected proper relations with those vampires your whole life. But I know them. They trust me. Especially if what you said about Morgan—”
&nb
sp; “The Queen,” Phillip corrects.
“Especially if what you said about the Queen is true,” I finish. “You need me. You need me on your side.”
“No,” Phillip says. “I don’t.”
“You don’t trust me. I understand. But look at my condition now.” I glance at my wounds. “What can I do to threaten you? How much of a risk would letting me help really be?”
“Enough of one.” Phillip shoves me by the shoulders. “You will remain here.”
“Fool,” I spit. On a whim, I pull out my hidden knife. I flash it before his eyes. “I’ve had this weapon on me the entire time. How many opportunities have there been for me to stick it through you? If I wanted you dead, Phillip, trust me… you would not be standing now.”
Conflict shows on his face. I know I’m getting to him. I press on.
“We’ve had our battles in the past. I understand that. But my loyalty is here. It truly is here, in The Haven, with my Queen, no matter what’s been done.” I flip the knife around in my hand and offer him the hilt. “So here. My final trump card. I offer it to you as a truce.”
Phillip hesitates. The tension builds.
He looks down at the bodies. He looks back at April. He looks once more at me.
Finally he takes a step forward. His fingers wrap around the hilt.
“But,” he warns, just as I’m about to let go, “if you prove false, Smithson, you will not be given another chance.”
“Then I will have to prove myself true.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
RAUL
THE PATHS
Dagan lands, holding Eleira, a second after I do. He has the horrendous blade pressed against the small of her back.
He grins at me. “Not so eager to risk your girlfriend, are you?”
My eyes meet Eleira’s. I cannot believe I managed to get her wrapped up in this.
Over and over, I fail her, over and over again.
But the fact that she would offer to come, for me… it sweeps aside just a little bit of the darkness crowding my heart. If she truly cares that much…
Well. I know she cares that much. The difficulty lies in making her forget those feelings, because if I allow them to prosper and grow, I am only betraying her heart.
She cannot be in love with a man sentenced to death. And despite Dagan’s promise about my leg wound, I’m under no illusions.
I know there is no cure. I know I’m going to die.
And somehow, knowing that, I screwed up enough to entangle Eleira with me. Again.
Dagan steps forward. A few moments later, Riyu drops through. The portal closes.
For the first time I actually look around to take in where we are.
It’s an enormous, blue-tinged crystal cave. Light shines from everywhere all at once—and yet there is no source. It seems to come from within the rock itself.
Eleira is immediately entranced by the surroundings. She does not even seem to notice the blade at her back.
“What is this place?” she asks, her voice full of awe and wonder. “It’s beautiful.”
Riyu looks to Dagan for permission. The bigger vampire nods.
“These are called the Paths, my Lady,” he says. The title he chose for her is not mocking. If anything, it is absolutely sincere. “They are the domain of warlocks and witches.”
“Is that what you are?” she asks. “A warlock?”
He inclines his head in acknowledgement.
“Some, though,” he adds, after a second, “refuse to see it that way.”
Dagan blinks in surprise at the addition. I take in as much as I can to try to understand their relationship with each other… and to discover how I might spring Eleira free from this trap I’ve led her into.
“Hold your arms out.” Dagan nods to me. “Riyu will bind them. Do it, and don’t argue.”
I do as I’m told. Riyu comes forth and clamps a pair of silver manacles on. I don’t know how he managed to handle them without feeling their effects—I guess it has something to do with his magic.
Once they’re secure, Dagan lets Eleira go. He offers her a warning, however.
“Try anything we don’t like, and I’ll prove to you just how powerful the link between my weapon and your Prince really is.”
“I understand,” Eleira tells him. She avoids looking at me. “I made the decision to come. I’m not going to compromise it now.”
Her explanation appeases Dagan. “Good,” he grunts. “Riyu—lead the way.”
The small vampire takes a moment to orient himself, and then starts to trot in the proper direction.
We follow him in silence. I keep trying to catch Eleira’s eye, without being too obvious about it.
But she is either oblivious to my attempts or purposefully ignoring them.
We walk for what seems like an inordinately long time. The caves become darker. There are places where Riyu turns, seemingly at random, to take us through a narrow gap or crevice.
The whole time Eleira looks around her with obvious fascination.
“There’s so much magic here,” she says under her breath. “I’ve never felt it so pure.”
Riyu gives her a knowing smile and a secret wink.
Finally, we emerge into a clearing indistinguishable from the one we arrived in. Riyu starts to mutter a spell—but Eleira stops him.
“Wait,” she says. Her eyes dart to Dagan, still completely avoiding mine. “Do you think I could try?”
“No,” Dagan says immediately. “Absolutely not. It—”
But Riyu stands to Eleira’s defense. “A portal created here can only open in one destination,” he says. “There is no risk.”
“What about to her?” I growl.
I find myself ignored by all three of them.
“Fine,” Dagan says after a moment. “As yet another showing of good will. But even try to deceive us, girl…” he pulls out the blade. “Well, you know what this can do.”
She swallows and nods.
As Riyu takes her forward and starts to teach her the spell, Dagan lumbers over to me.
“She cares enormously about you,” he says.
I meet the proclamation with stony silence.
“Just saying,” he adds. “She would never recover were something… unfortunate… to befall you.”
My gut tightens, because I know just how right Dagan is.
“But fear not,” he continues. “I am a vampire of my word. When we get to The Crypts, the link between you and the weapon will be cleanly removed. That is, of course… dependent on your Father’s mercy.”
He walks away, chuckling to himself.
So already he’s lied.
I turn my attention to Eleira and Riyu. She has her eyes closed and her hands held out in front of her as if warming them against a fire. Riyu watches, adjusting their position, muttering his own words of magic under his breath—which Eleira repeats back to him verbatim.
Finally, the small vampire seems satisfied. He steps away and gives a quick nod. Eleira smiles—she actually smiles, despite us being prisoners, and closes her eyes to concentrate.
Half a second later a burst of light comes from her palms. A portal at least two times larger than Riyu’s has been formed before her.
One of her eyes cracks open. She gives a tentative, cautious smile. “Did I do it right?”
Riyu stares as if he’s never seen her before. His shock is only temporary, but it carries with it a great deal of new respect and reverence.
He quickly makes his features go blank. He gives a little nod.
“He goes first,” Dagan motions to me. “If something goes wrong, the rest of us will be safe. Heed my warning, girl.”
Eleira holds her shoulders back, defiant. “I’m no fool.”
“Get on with it, then.”
I come up to the portal. For a brief second, I manage to catch Eleira’s eyes.
There is so much caring, so much angst in her gaze that it staggers me.
That flash is all I n
eed to confirm the extent of her feelings for me.
She covers it up a second later, breaking eye contact.
At that moment, I realize what she’s been doing. She hasn’t looked at me because she didn’t want to give Dagan or Riyu any ammunition against us. She’s trying to protect me—which is highly ironic, given that I should be protecting her.
“Go ahead,” she says, her voice stiff. “It’s safe.”
I give a solemn nod. I peer into the portal, but it’s impossible to see through to the other side. “This will take me to The Crypts?”
“Yes,” Riyu says.
“If the magic is right,” Dagan adds.
“It is right,” Eleira stresses.
“Even if it’s not…” Dagan shrugs. “Your boyfriend is the one to be our guinea pig. Let’s hope nothing unfortunate befalls him.” He grins. “Off you go. The King is waiting.”
I step right to the portal’s edge. The swirling energy inside is so strong that even I can feel it. Or maybe—more likely—I am just imagining it.
I don’t have The Spark.
I’m about to step through when Eleira calls out, “Wait!”
I stop and turn back. She runs to me, before Dagan can react, and throws her arms over my shoulders. She kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, “Be safe.”
By then, Dagan’s recovered enough to grab her arm and yank her back. He growls in annoyance. I try once more to look into Eleira’s eyes, but they are glued to the floor.
“No more wasting time,” Dagan says. “Go.”
On his command, I jump into the portal… and the world turns black.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
RAUL
THE CRYPTS
I tumble through a never-ending darkness tinged with red. Red from blood, red from fire, red from death and destruction and red—above all—from rage.
The feeling consumes me like a never-ending inferno. I feel like I’ve been plunged into the heart of a volcano. The darkness is nothing my sight can pierce. Likewise, the red is nothing I directly see. It’s more of a feeling, a sense of impending doom and destruction and decay. It’s like the wound corrupting my body has taken on its own strength and expanded, doubling, tripling, even quadrupling in size.
