What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9)

by Kristine Cayne

  “What proportion?”

  “One part vampire blood to thirty parts fake blood. I figured we should start with something small and see what happens,” he said, producing a small vial of blood.

  She looked at the glass tube in Cyrus’ hands. The king’s blood. “Inject him?”

  “Yes, I think it would be best.”

  She nodded and stayed put as Cyrus and two other vampires headed towards the cell. They moved fast. So fast that it was all basically a blur of hands and flashes of color and quick bangs and snaps as they held the rabid and injected him before he had a chance to react. Just seconds after it all started, Cyrus went still next to the cage.

  And a second after, the rabid slipped into a metamorphosis state. Its eyes lit up in an explosion of fire. Instead of reaching up for her in desperation, its whole body recoiled as if electricity went rushing through it. The howling that followed was so deep and so unexpected, it made her jump backwards, crashing against Marcus’ chest. The rabid shook and jolted, almost as if hit by a powerful seizure, the screams rolling out louder and sharper.

  Just as suddenly as it all had started, it ended. The room went deadly quiet, the body of the rabid frozen in time on the cement floor of the cell.

  Her first thought was that they had killed it. Maybe Cyrus had been right all along and the poison in vampire blood had been too much for the ravaged body of the beast. She held her breath, waiting for a sign, anything, that would tell her they hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

  Then, a twitch. So small that she wondered if she’d imagined it. Then another. And then the rabid opened its eyes and found her. Except that instead of going insane with need, it just stayed there, watching her as she breathed heavily.

  “I’ll be damned,” Cyrus said.

  The rabid was obviously too weak to regain its vampire grandeur, but the transformation was obvious. Nothing in the outside had changed and the creature still looked like the sick beast that had been in the cage for hours. But the wailing desperation of famine was gone. In its place, there was a new calm, a savoring of the surroundings.

  She took a deep breath and turned around to look at Marcus. His eyes were shining with something that looked like wonderment.

  “Can we give it some more?” she asked, and the question was as much for the king as it was for Cyrus. After all, it was his blood that was feeding and healing the creature right in front of their eyes.

  “Yes,” Marcus said without moving his eyes away from hers.

  The second shot had a similar effect. She couldn’t tell if it was causing pain or if the healing process was so shocking to the system that the rabid’s body twisted and warped in response to it. Either way, it was working. The convulsions lasted longer the second time around and the rabid’s body hitting the ground produced deeper, heavier thuds. She had no idea how resilient its body was, but she guessed rushing the process could end up causing it serious injury. Could the violent shaking break its spine? Cause a stroke? She realized she truly knew nothing about how their bodies worked.

  She was about to ask about it when the rabid went quiet. This time, it took longer to awaken, but when it did, the differences were staggering. Stumbling to its feet, the rabid shifted its weight against the bars on the door. Despite the sluggish breathing and the dazed look on its face, the beast also looked more “human” than ever before. Its movements were more calculated, somewhat fluid instead of jerky and savage as they had been just hours before.

  Its eyes hovered over her for a few seconds, but this time, they didn’t linger there. Instead, they zeroed on the king. She was no longer the most appealing being in the room—and that was probably the clearest sign that the blood was working.

  Breathing sluggishly, the rabid leaned its head against the bars, lips moving.

  Her heart pounded as the rabid whispered something too hushed for her to hear. She was trying to concentrate on the movement of the lips when she saw Cyrus’ face twist in response.

  She flicked her head around towards Marcus. His eyes had darkened to a bottomless black. His fangs were out and his body had turned into steel. Whatever the rabid had said, it had been loud enough for vampire ears.

  A heavy weight settled on her chest. “What is it?” she whispered. “What did he say?”

  Marcus’ eyes remained dark and fierce as he lowered his head to look at her. “Patrick,” he hissed. “He said Patrick.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Before the letters had finished forming on the rabid’s lips, he’d already guessed what they spelled. Suddenly, it all made sense: the break-ins, the rabids finding the compound, Patrick breaching the walls. Patrick would still have needed the help of somebody on the inside for all of that to happen, but the pieces were all falling into place. Marcus knew his brother well enough to see the picture clearly.

  Patrick was building an army.

  And his soldiers were hungry for blood and willing to kill anything and anybody that crossed their path, human or vampire.

  He had always suspected Patrick wanted to build an army to one day try to overthrow him. However, he’d always thought his brother would be recruiting rogue vampires, the ones who refused to recognize Marcus’ place as the king. Recruiting rabids was actually a brilliant move.

  All Patrick had to do was point them in the right direction. The human scent coming from the compound would do the rest. If he sent enough rabids their way, they would have no chance. It was a simple matter of numbers. There were just over fifty vampires in the compound and maybe hundreds of rabids out there. Maybe thousands. Marcus remembered Miles’ description of nearby Franklin and the vampire eyes observing them from within the darkness.

  Why hadn’t they attacked that night? Either Patrick was helping them find enough blood to keep them under control, or the rabids had little interest in vampires unless they smelled human blood among them.

  Which meant the compound’s days were numbered.

  “Cyrus, get Miles,” he said and only then noticed his own body in full war mode, his fangs out.

  He looked down and into Belle’s eyes. She didn’t recoil or shrink away despite the monster showing in his face. If anything, she moved closer, a questioning look in her features.

  He needed to do something and do it fast. Images of the rabids sweeping into the compound ran through his mind. He couldn’t risk Belle getting caught in the wave. The minute the thought crossed his mind, he knew war was the only option.

  He pulled the beast away, pushing it down until it was just a spark in the distance. By the time Miles walked into the room, he had regained enough composure to take control of the situation.

  Miles’ eyes zoomed in on the rabid, now in a deep sleep on the floor of the cell. Its breathing was so soft, it was hard to tell it was alive—except that Marcus could hear the beating of its heart, becoming stronger with every passing second. The blood was working, healing the beast slowly and pulling it away from madness.

  “Put together the best team,” he told Miles. “Twenty of the best hunters. Twenty-five. We’re going back to Franklin.” Miles nodded, a hint of raw determination in his eyes. Marcus knew he wouldn’t need too many words to get Miles to understand what was happening. “We’re going to burn the town down.”

  “What’s Franklin?” Belle asked and her tone was not only cautious but also troubled.

  He inched closer to the cage, hearing the rabid stir in his sleep. “A nearby town. I think it’s where my brother is holding his army.”

  She gasped. “You mean he has control over the rabids? How?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter either. I can’t risk waiting to find out.” He looked back towards Miles. “We’re leaving tonight.”

  Marcus could feel Belle’s distress even before she opened her mouth. “Isn’t this incredibly dangerous?” she finally said.

  “Just as much as waiting here for them to attack,” he answered. “Besides, Miles said they didn’t attack last time they were there, right?
”

  “That’s correct,” Miles said. “They just watched us.”

  “So let’s surprise them and burn them down. Even if we can’t get all of them, burning the town down will cause them to disperse. Maybe that’ll buy us some time.”

  “Time for what, exactly?” she asked.

  “I have a feeling that many of the rabids would be on my side, not Patrick’s, if it wasn’t for the void.” Marcus pointed towards the one in the cage. “I think that’s why this one mentioned Patrick’s name. He was warning us.”

  Her eyes grew larger. “And you want to go out there and burn them to death?”

  “We don’t have the luxury of time, Belle. And I can’t go around catching one rabid at a time so you can inject it with blood and hope it gets cured. We’re at war.” He paused for a second. “You know that better than anybody.”

  After all, she had been the one willing to risk her life to walk into the mouth of the beast and try to kill the king.

  He could see the conflict in her eyes, but this wasn’t a battle he was willing to fight. Not now, when everybody’s fate was holding on by the thinnest of threads. For all he knew, the attack could happen anytime. That same night, the day after. The fact that Patrick had shown up in the compound was a bad omen. Patrick had probably been testing the defenses of the place. Or maybe testing the loyalty of the traitors living in the compound.

  Belle’s labored breathing was pounding in Marcus’ ears when he turned to Miles. “Get started. I want to leave just before it gets dark. And get the rest of the guards set up to circle the compound while we’re gone.”

  Miles gave a quick firm nod and left. It wouldn’t take long to get everything ready. Marcus hated the idea of leaving Belle behind, but this was a battle he wasn’t going to miss. Because somewhere out there, probably somewhere in Franklin, his brother was waiting for him.

  And he couldn’t wait to once and for all kill the bastard.

  A disturbing calm fell over the room once Marcus had announced his plans. As if the revelation of the upcoming attack had given everybody a new purpose. Something to look forward to.

  She couldn’t find the strength to get excited about it.

  All she could think about was the million things that could go wrong.

  He must have understood how she felt, because when he turned around to face her, his eyes were soft.

  “Come with me,” he said before turning towards Miles again. “Fifteen minutes.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her hand and led her towards the tunnels and then out into the courtyard.

  When they reached his bedroom and stepped inside, he hugged her, then reached for her mouth.

  The hunger in his kiss startled her and scared her. It was as if he was kissing her for the last time. Her fingers closed over his arm, holding on to say what she couldn’t put into words. Don’t go, don’t do it, don’t leave me here. Slowly, he looked down and into her eyes, his hands holding her face with a determination that left her breathless.

  “Marcus…”

  “I’ll be back, Belle,” he said, his voice rolling out in a growl. “This is not goodbye.”

  So why does it feel like it? Her pulse was throbbing, her ears booming.

  “I don’t like it,” she whispered and her words were tingling with uneasiness.

  “I don’t like it either,” he admitted. “But it’s time for Patrick to die.”

  He kissed her again, this time soft and tender. The sense of dread washing over her reached deeper, coiling and squeezing without mercy.

  “I want you to stay in this room while I’m gone,” he added. “It’s basically a fortress. Come here.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the farther end of the room. Then he pushed her palm against the wall, fingers opened and twisted in an awkward position. A soft click and the wall slid open, the darkness of the corridors oozing ahead and spilling into the room. “Nobody knows about this one except Miles and me. If anything happens, use it. It will lead you back into the tunnels.”

  She tried to control the shiver washing over her skin. “I hate the tunnels. It’s so dark down there.”

  “I’m sorry, but any light will immediately alert everybody to your presence.”

  He let go of her and spun around, walking a few steps towards the center of the room. The door slid closed and disappeared into the wall, almost as if it never existed. The sense of doom in her chest got stronger. What if she needed to find it and couldn’t? What if something came through the tunnels and broke into the room?

  Stop it! her mind screamed.

  Marcus turned around and reached for her. One second he was a few feet away; the next she was in his arms. And then he smiled, but the smile lacked the wickedness it usually carried. “Don’t worry, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  A flash and he was on the other side of the room, opening the outside door. He hesitated for a second, then he turned around. As if he was standing at the edge of an abyss, deciding whether to jump at once or stay there for a while, savoring reality for one more impossible minute. Soft liquid silver danced in his eyes.

  She took a step towards him but he raised a hand to stop her. And before he disappeared into the shadows of the courtyard, before his form blurred away into the darkness, he looked at her in a way that made her whole body ache.

  “I love you, Belle,” he said, and the words lingered in the air long after he was gone.

  The next two hours were a blur of agony. She tried to run after Marcus when he stepped into the courtyard, but by the time she got to the door, he was gone. The words replayed in her head over and over as the night extended its blanket of darkness over the compound. She watched it happen from inside his bedroom, the door latched securely and the lights off. It seemed like a pointless strategy—if vampire eyes were strong enough to maneuver through the tunnels, they surely would be able to see her in the darkness of the room. But still, she let the room sit in shadows.

  She placed her hand against the cold glass and felt the vibration of the night stirring against it. That was his night out there, his domain. For her, it was little more than darkness and fear.

  A month ago, she would have seen the imminent danger as a potential way to get rid of the king. Now, the future of humankind depended on the king surviving the fight. Funny how things could change so quickly in a question of days. Funny how your heart could change sides before you even realized it had happened.

  She had her eyes closed and her forehead against the cold glass when she heard the noise. It was just a soft rustle, fabrics brushing together. Smooth, but also foreign. A noise that didn’t belong in the room.

  Her eyes shot open and her pulse quickened. She looked around, trying to guess the movement of the shadows around her, but it was too dark to really tell what was hiding in the corners.

  Holding her breath, she took a step towards the hidden door near the armoire—and that was when she noticed that the door separating this bedroom from hers was ajar. Ajar enough to allow for a body to pass through.

  If something was in the room, it wasn’t a rabid. Rabids were too desperate to be stealthy. It also wasn’t a friendly vampire. Those would have come through the front door, announcing their presence.

  Another step.

  The rustle of fabric against air bounced on the walls, making it hard to tell where it was coming from. She was breathing so hard, it was hard to hear anything else.

  Was there a guard outside her door? Probably. She could scream for help—but the vampire in the room was a lot closer to her than the one outside. She wasn’t sure the guard would make it inside before she’d been torn to pieces. Any way she looked at it, the chances were not in her favor.

  One more quick breath and she pressed her hand against the wall.

  The second the door started to slide open, the vampire jumped out from the shadows and directly towards her. A flash of silver bursting through the air at impossible speeds. His hand brushed h
er arm as she plummeted into the darkness of the tunnels, but the door closed too quickly for him to make it through.

  She was in complete darkness, her heart hammering madly against her chest. And then the vampire on the other side of the door let out a scream that sent waves of raw panic through her. He started pounding on the door, and she realized it wouldn’t take long before he figured out how to open it.

  An uproar of noises exploded in the room. Crashes of glass breaking and things being thrown around. Vampires fighting. She didn’t want to wait around to see who would win.

  Reaching for the nearest wall, she pressed her back against it and started sliding down the corridor. The pounding on the door made it difficult to listen to the sounds of the tunnels. She had no idea where this one went and how it connected to the underground rooms. And since she was walking blind, all she could do was to keep moving away from the door, hoping she could get far enough before the fight was over and the wrong vampire figured out the entry to the tunnels.

  Because once he did, her chances of escaping were gone.

  Her steps rippled in maddening echoes, bouncing above her and clinging to invisible corners. After a few feet, the corridor turned once, then again, then back around. It was impossible to keep up with it and it didn’t take long before she was completely lost. The roar of the vampires in the distance was the only indication that she was still walking in the opposite direction, away from the bedroom.

  It felt like she walked around for hours in the darkness, even though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. Then she turned another corner and a chill rush of air hit her.

  She froze, her heart pounding so wildly in her ears she couldn’t hear anything else.

  The tunnels had always had a suffocating feel to them, so a breeze down there could only mean one thing: the door connecting the tunnel to the outside world was open. A knot built in her throat. There was no way of knowing what was waiting for her on the other end of the tunnel. Or who was winning the battle raging back in the bedroom.