Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “What’re you so worried about then?”

  “Um.” I frowned, going back through my last few thoughts. “I think I was actually thinking about your room.”

  “My room?” he said, looking up for a second. “Why?”

  “I was thinking about Lilith, you know, and if we were anything alike, and then I was thinking about the stained-glass dome above your bed.”

  Mike stiffened. “I tacked a sheet up over it.”

  “Did you?” I laughed.

  He nodded. “I couldn’t look at that anymore. It’s sick.”

  I smiled to myself. He didn’t know it, but Morgaine actually told me what the picture was: a depiction of Lilith’s death—a woman, her legs forced apart by the hips of a man as she cried, reaching out to the nothing, while another slit her throat. Mike had gone to great lengths to keep that from me, even barred me from his room.

  “Anyway, why were you thinking about it, baby?”

  “I guess I just feel a kind of connection to Lilith. I felt sad for her. For the fact that she set this room up to look all grand, and then she had it all taken away.”

  Mike opened his mouth to speak just as the knights burst through the doors.

  “Got him, Chief,” Ryder called.

  As soon as I saw the thick, rounded skull and the wide, broad shoulders of the man they dragged between them, I relaxed. This guy looked like he was of European descent, maybe Italian or something, certainly not the unmistakably Caucasian appearance my David had.

  Ryder and Falcon dropped the bloodied vampire to the floor. He landed on his hands then gave up and flopped down, his face bleeding all over the velvet rug below the steps.

  “Why are you here?” Mike asked, squatting beside him.

  He groaned, trying to lift his head. “I—”

  “Speak louder.” Ryder shoved the man with his foot.

  “Hey, ease off!” I walked over and stood with Mike.

  “Drake. Has.” The man coughed and rolled over, clutching his stomach.

  “Drake has what?” Ryder leaned over him. “What has he done?”

  “Give him a break!” I yelled, pushing Ryder aside, then knelt down beside the man who, up close, was no older than me. He was bloodied badly, his lip split, dirt and small pebbles lodged into his temples and cheekbones, and the whole left side of his body was practically limp. “What’s your name?”

  “Nate,” he wheezed, struggling to speak.

  “And what happened? Why did you come here?”

  “For safety.”

  “From Drake?”

  He nodded, his eyes shrinking with pain. “He’s… something about blood oaths.”

  “What about them?”

  He coughed, and the gash across his chest pulsed blood as he rolled back.

  “Oh, God, you’re bleeding bad.” I held my wrist out. “Here. Drink.”

  “Wait!” Mike grabbed my arm and looked up at Quaid. “Get him a human. Lilithian blood won’t be enough.”

  “A human?” I practically barked as Quaid ran off.

  “Relax, Ara. I won’t allow any biting or killing.”

  I reached out and placed my hands on the guy’s chest, forcing pressure down on his wound. It felt like forever before Quaid finally came back escorting a young girl. She looked so small and so nervous next to him. “Here,” he said, and gave her a soft push in our direction.

  “Hi.” I smiled sympathetically at her.

  “Hello,” she said, bowing her head as she knelt beside me.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Danni.”

  “Well, Danni, have you ever had someone drink from you before?”

  She shook her head.

  “We won’t let him bite you, okay?” I said, pushing down harder on the vampire’s chest, feeling the flood of his blood pulse up with each breath he took. “And if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

  She looked at Quaid; he winked at her, and she gushed. “I don’t mind.”

  “Okay.” I slowly pulled my hands back from the bloodied mess and held them out from my body, resisting the urge to lick my fingers, gross as that sounds.

  Mike squatted right beside Danni and guided her hand to the vampire’s lips, squeezing her wrist as he made a cut. She looked away, scrunching her eyes tight.

  The warm, dead-animal smell of her blood wafted up to my nostrils, making the sweet, desirable scent of the vampire on my hands seem suddenly so unappealing, like eating a doughnut in a room where someone farted. Quaid held the head of the newcomer so he couldn’t lift it, and Danni’s blood spilled, drop-by-drop, against his lips.

  The bruising along his jaw receded and his eyes changed from black to a bright hazel color as he sat up and took a deep breath.

  “Better?” I said.

  He nodded and looked right into Danni’s eyes. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank you for that,” he said, touching her arm.

  “You’re welcome.” She blushed again, and Blade helped her to stand, leading her away; she turned back to wave at Quaid, but he was too focused on the man to notice.

  “Now. What’s going on?” Mike said.

  “Drake turned volatile, started slashing people apart.”

  “Why?”

  “I heard it was something to do with oaths. Apparently, he wiped out every one of the BWs—went to each Set, killed everyone who’d ever sworn an oath, then came back here and finished them off.”

  “He killed the army?” I felt weak, dizzy. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because,” Mike said, standing up. “When you take your oath tomorrow night, any man whose allegiance is sworn to the throne will switch to you.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Yep, and that would have included Drake’s army.”

  I looked back at the young vampire. “So, you haven’t sworn an oath?”

  “No.” He sat up properly, his chest completely healed. He looked down at it, parting his shirt to give the skin a little poke. “I don’t really care for politics. I just heard screaming, looked out my bedroom door and saw Drake slice a man’s throat open.”

  “Did he… did the guy die?”

  “Yeah. I kid you not, yo. Guy just dropped dead right there on the floor in front of me.”

  “Wait! You said he’s killing them.” How did that only just occur to me? They were vampires, not Lilithians. “How is he killing vampires?”

  “Don’t you know?” the kid said, his eyes wide. “There’s some new drug called Venom. Wipes ’em out in seconds.”

  “Drug?” I said, looking at Mike.

  “What do you mean by drug?” Mike said.

  “Dunno. I just heard some High Council dude say something a few weeks ago.”

  “What did he say?” Mike asked.

  “Something about vials—said we had four but Drake took it to his lab in Sussex and had it expanded into… I don’t know.” He swallowed, as if his mouth had made too much saliva to keep talking. “I can’t remember, but he made enough of it to walk ’round the castle with a sword and just start cuttin’ guys up. Their eyes were open, ma’am—he just left ’em there. Just… dead!”

  I covered my mouth, lowering my hand a second later so as not to seem like a scared little girl. “So then you left?”

  “Yeah, but I was lucky. I followed some guys out this tunnel and came out to a road.”

  “How many escaped?” Mike asked. “Are you the only one that came here?”

  “There were twenty who ran. But they all went in different directions. I only came here ’cause of Ric.”

  “Ric?”

  “Yeah, um… Eric de la Rose,” he said, rubbing some blood from his head. “He—a few months ago he said he was fleeing the Set, asked me to come. I didn’t wanna risk capture, and he wouldn’t tell me why he was leaving, so I told him I’d stay. He just handed me a map and said if I changed my mind to come here.” He looked up at Falcon. “I’m sorry, man, I didn�
�t know this was some royal château or nothin’. I just thought Eric had really rich parents.”

  Falcon laughed and helped the vampire to his feet. “No harm done.”

  “What did you say your name was, kid?” Mike asked.

  “Nate.” He folded over a little, obviously still in pain.

  “Well, Nate, welcome to Loslilian. This here”—Mike presented me—“is our princess, soon to be the new ruler of the Three Worlds.”

  Nate looked at me then, flipping his chin. “’Sup.”

  Everyone in the room laughed.

  “Blade, go get Morgaine. Tell her to prepare a guest room for our new friend.”

  Blade saluted with two fingers and turned on his heel, disappearing. He’d learned to use that speedy-vamp-run really well for a vampire who was only a few hours old. Smart bugger.

  “So, you guys are all Lilithians?” Nate asked.

  “Yep.” Mike bristled with pride.

  “I heard of your kind.”

  “What have you heard?” I said.

  “You drink vampire blood. Some say Drake’s building a new army to come get some kid you guys stole or something.”

  “New army?”

  Nate nodded. “He ships humans in—thirty a day. At first I thought he was just really hungry, but then a mate of mine in decomp said he was only burning about half that.”

  “Decomp?” I looked at Mike.

  Mike winced and without looking at me said, “Decomposition. It’s the guys who get rid of bodies.”

  I felt queasy. “So, he’s creating a new army?”

  Mike sunk back a little, exhaling through his nose as realization seared through him at the same time it did Falcon and Quaid.

  “Because of the allegiance shift?” I said.

  “Yep. But he can’t make them swear an oath, because, not only does he not have access to the Stone, but the oath would be invalid as soon as you swear yours. He’ll have to brainwash them.”

  “Mike.” I grabbed his sleeve, my mind racing to see the faces of all those innocent humans who were about to lose their lives, either by death or by being forced to join a cult. “We have to save those people.”

  He wrapped me up in his arms, grimacing at my bloody hands dirtying his shirt. “Baby, there’s nothing we can do to help them. We’re not ready to go after Drake yet.”

  “But this is good news,” Falcon said. “Not that humans are dying, but that his army won’t be ready for some time. He needs to change them, train them and make sure they’re reliable enough to carry out whatever task he asks of them.”

  Quaid looked at Nate then at Falcon. “Right. This at least means Ara’ll be safe while she does the Walk of Faith. I doubt he’s gonna come onto Lilithian grounds without some protection.”

  Falcon nodded and clapped Nate affectionately on the shoulder. “Nate, my man, welcome to Loslilian.”

  * * *

  “A toast.” Mike, chirpier than usual, stood and tapped his glass. “To the knights, for their exceptionally quick reaction time, the successful capture of an alleged bad guy, and also to our new comrade, Nate.”

  We raised our glasses one by one, all thirty-something people down the table. More chairs had been added since our little family grew: first, my Private Guard being invited to dine with us each night, then a half-dozen new vampires, and now Nate. But the head of the table still remained empty—another reminder we had no king and, for me, another reminder that David would miss my coronation ceremony tomorrow.

  “Well, I’m glad to be on this side of the fence.” Nate held his glass up to Falcon. “Your knights pack a pretty wicked punch.”

  Falcon sipped his wine, smiling into his glass—the same kind of smile he gave when he knew he was right about something.

  “I must say,” Margret, now nick-named Mrs. Peacock, spoke over everyone. “Michael, I underestimated you. It seems you’ve trained your knights well.”

  “Yes,” Mustache Man piped up. “I watched from my window this morning as they caught our new friend.”

  Nate shuffled in his seat.

  “Young Falcon here is quite a force,” Mrs. Peacock said.

  “Just doing my job.” Falcon nodded once.

  My ears adjusted to a quieter conversation near me, and as the rest of the table went about their private dinner chatter, I looked at Eric and Nate.

  “What’s it mean?” Nate asked Eric.

  “It’s permanent, man. You’d have no life.”

  “How is that different to now?”

  “Amara’s disbanding the Sets when she’s sworn in. We’ll be free to go where we want.”

  “Serious?” He glanced at me then back at Eric. “Can I go home—to my family?”

  “No, man, but you can get on with your life.”

  “So, are you swearing an oath?” Nate asked.

  “No.”

  “You will if you want to be on the Private Council,” Arthur said, coming into the conversation, uninvited.

  Eric’s jaw came forward, the serious side of him showing. He looked down at his plate.

  “Why, Arthur?” I asked across the table, and several people hushed.

  “It’s the law. Those in your Private Council must be sworn to the throne or to the people.”

  “What does the oath do?” Nate asked.

  “It makes those who bear the mark bound to obey any command given in strong order by their ruler.”

  “Except those sworn to the people,” a man said. “Then they may disobey, should they see the order detrimental to the greater good.”

  “Right.” Arthur nodded.

  “And what if they swear to the other one—the… throne, was it?” Nate asked.

  “Yes, the throne,” Arthur said. “In that case, they must obey no matter what.”

  “Did you swear an oath, Arthur?” I cut in.

  He nodded, sipping his wine. “I was on the World Council. It was a requirement.”

  “But not as Set leader, like David was?”

  He shook his head.

  “So, Arthur, if Drake was to call you up now and tell you to come back, would you have to?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “What if you were sworn to the throne?”

  “If that were the case, then yes.”

  “And Jason? What was he sworn to?” I asked, ignoring the quiet gasps when I mentioned his name.

  “The throne.”

  “So when I take over, his allegiance would automatically have transferred?”

  Arthur nodded.

  “And I swear my allegiance to the people?” I touched my chest.

  “Yes.”

  “But I don’t have to do what they say if they order me to?”

  “No. As long as you never do anything that directly affects the people in a grossly negative way—”

  “What if some of them would die by a decision I make?”

  “As long as you knew in your heart it was for the greater benefit, it would be okay.”

  “And if, say, Nate was to swear to the throne, he’d have to do whatever I tell him?”

  “No. The compulsion act only applies to orders of a certain nature,” Arthur said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you can give an order for Mike to punch Falcon, for example,” Morgaine started into the conversation. “And he can refuse. But if you compel him to obey, he would have to.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “It’s a kind of energy you use, so I’m told.”

  “You will come to understand it once you’ve sworn your oath,” a man with a long gray beard said, bowing his head.

  “So I can only use that after I’m sworn in.”

  “No, it would work now on those who have made an oath to the people, if they believe you to be the true ruler.”

  “How do I do it—how do I compel someone?”

  Arthur leaned forward, his arms on the table. “Request something of them as though you hold all authority. Ask as though you wou
ld bring all hell down on their soul if they did not do as you said.”

  “Morgaine?” I turned to her.

  “Yes, Majesty?”

  “Can I try it on you?”

  She rubbed the top of her arm, the place I knew she had the same marking as Jason. “Of course, Princess Amara.”

  I took a breath and worked up the same tone my mom used on me when she was sending me to my room and I would look in her eyes and know damn well if I didn’t move it she was going to start spitting green stuff, her head turning around on her shoulders.

  “Answer this honestly: do you believe any of the people at this table may be traitors?”

  Everyone gasped, the energy in the room thickening with tension.

  Morgaine looked into her plate. “Yes.”

  “You can keep your whispers to yourself, Margret,” Arthur said suddenly in his stern voice. “I would just as soon give my life at her feet. I am no traitor.”

  I offered him a warm smile. “I know that, Arthur.”

  “And I cannot be the traitor,” said Mustache Man. “I’m Lilithian.”

  “As am I,” said Gray Sideburns, then a few others. No one seemed to look particularly guilty, except Morgaine. I wondered if she knew who the traitor was or if she only suspected someone. Either way, we were going to have a sit-down chat—a long one.

  “So, those who swore to the throne of Lilith, what happened to their oaths when she died?” I asked.

  “They remained faithful. Since Drake never made an oath, he could not have control of us,” Margret-slash-Mrs. Peacock said, bowing her head. “Our allegiance remains faithful to the Lilithian rule, even if you never swear an oath.”

  “So, if I wanna stay here,” Nate asked, “do I have to swear an oath?”

  “Only if you plan to serve on the Private Guard or the Private Council,” someone said.

  “Cool.” He nodded. “Well, if it’s all the same, I’ll just stick to being one of the guests for now.”

  “That’s fine, Nate,” I said, tearing my eyes away from his with the sense of another’s on me, and when they brushed across Arthur’s face, he looked away.

  “Morg?” I kicked her foot under the table. She looked up at me. “Is your ‘getting people’ thing turned on right now?”

  She frowned over a half smile. “Why?”