The Vampire Gift 1: Wards of Night

by E. M. Knight

  “…If only he did not come here to kill me!”

  With a snarl he throws me to the ground. I land hard. The crowd hisses angrily. Before I can react, my father is on me, pinning me to the stone floor like a bug.

  “What say you?” he demands of his subjects. He takes out a long, studded dagger and aims it at my heart. “After I have shown him such mercy, after I have been so valiant and fair… he betrays me so!”

  The dagger flashes downward. My hands catch his wrist but I’m weak as a toddler against his unbound strength. I can do nothing to protect myself.

  The tip stops against my shirt. My father applies the faintest bit of pressure. It spears through my jacket and presses into my skin.

  “Do I do it?” His head swings wildly around him, the black flecks littering his eyes. “Do I kill my own son, because of what we know? Because of what he came here to do?”

  “Father, no,” I say. “I was sent, yes, but —”

  He backhands me. He does it with the most casual of gestures, but it makes my neck snap violently to the side.

  “I did not ask you,” he growls.

  I bite down an angry retort and meet his murderous glare. “Do it, then,” I hiss.

  “Mercy!” somebody cries out.

  My father jerks his attention toward the voice. “A call for mercy?” he asks. “Who gives it? Step forth!”

  Out from the milling bodies steps a beautiful blonde woman. Her skin is tanned. Tanned skin. On a vampire!

  I’ve never seen the like.

  That’s not all. Her eyes are green and soft. Yet there’s an edge to them that I’m immediately drawn to, a challenge that says she’s not one to back down.

  “State your case,” my Father says.

  “Show him mercy, my King.” She goes to one knee and plants a fist in the ground. “If you spare him, I will bear responsibility for his actions.”

  A dozen malicious sneers come from the vampires closest to her. She ignores them all.

  “You would risk your own position in our sanctuary for a vampire you do not know?”

  “I know he is your son,” she says. “And I know how great a leader you have been to us.”

  My father’s dagger eases off. A tad. “Go on.”

  “It would be a waste to kill him, my King. Lend him to me. I will take him under my protection. He has,” she licks her lips, “potential.”

  “Hmm.” My father looks around. “Do any others feel the same way? Does anyone else stand for my son?”

  The silence that comes is deafening.

  Logan looks to me — and leaps off. He offers me his hand. I grudgingly accept. He pulls me to my feet.

  “Very well,” he says. “All the gifts I bestowed upon you with guest rights still stand. When in The Crypts, you will be under Victoria’s care. See that you represent her well.” He strikes his hands together. “The ceremony is done! You may now return to your lives.”

  The vampires scatter, leaving only me, my Father, and Victoria standing there.

  ***

  “Why did you speak for me?”

  I’m pacing the empty floor in the middle of my guest chamber. Victoria brought me here, sat on a stool, and has been silent ever since.

  I repeat my question. She simply watches me like an odd curiosity.

  My anger rises. But I cannot display it here, for even she is stronger than I. And she can’t have been made more than a hundred years ago!

  Whatever the secret is to their strength, I need it. I need it more than I need air and passion. I need it more than I need blood.

  I turn on her. “Answer me!”

  She taps her lips.

  “Why won’t you speak? You had no trouble with it in front of the King!”

  “I find,” she says finally, “that the more I let men talk, the more information they will give out for free.”

  She grins and hops down from her spot. She’s a lot shorter than she seemed to be when I first saw her from the floor.

  I grunt. “And what information have I given you?”

  “That you’re rash. Impetuous.” She waltzes up to me and runs a finger along my chest. “All qualities,” she says, looking into my eyes, “that I like most in a man.”

  I stare at her. “Is that what this is?” I say softly. “A seduction?”

  “Hardly,” she laughs. She pushes me away and spins around. “I simply thought you might be useful to have on my side.”

  “So you pick at the bottom of the barrel to find an ally.” I can’t hide the disdain in my voice. I am used to being strong, but in The Crypts, I am no better than a fledgling.

  “Oh, you give yourself too little credit, James.” She twirls a strand of her pretty hair. “You have the King’s blood in you. You could be Prince.”

  I scoff. “If it wasn’t for you, my Father would have killed me. Tell me, what type of Prince am I?”

  “One who hasn’t glimpsed his full potential,” she replies. “One who doesn’t know the things he is capable of.”

  “I don’t lack confidence in my abilities… when I know what I’m up against. Here?” I gesture angrily around the walls. “Everybody here is stronger. How can that be?”

  Her eyes twinkle as she regards me and considers the question. “You’ve been around a long time,” she says. “What do you think?”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking!” I explode.

  That laugh comes again. It reminds me of Mother’s.

  “Who are you, Victoria?” I ask. “What do you really want with me?”

  “I want,” she lounges on the bed. “The same thing that you do. Power. I see how you crave it. I see it in your eyes.”

  I sneer. “Power? You have it. You’re stronger than I—”

  “Not strength.” She clicks her tongue in irritation. “Strength is easy. Everybody here is granted strength.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You think a vampire’s abilities are static? You think once one is transformed, a vampire stays the same?”

  “Of course not. We grow stronger as we age and feed. Don’t lecture me. I’ve been on this earth five times as long as you.”

  “Or more,” she says casually.

  “More?” My voice is flat.

  “I was made forty years ago.”

  I simply stare. She has forty years, compared to my six-hundred? That’s all the time it’s taken her to surpass me in strength?

  “Strength is an illusion, James. Strength comes and goes. It can increase, just as it can fade. But power… power lasts forever.”

  “Forgive me,” I say sourly, “If I don’t see the distinction.”

  “You have power,” she says. She points to me. “You may not know it, but it’s there, lying latent in you, like a great beast waiting to be awakened. It comes from your bloodline. I —” she flips her hair back, “— possess only strength. What you see, with me, is what you get.”

  And it’s a damn lot more than me, I think.

  “I can tell you the secret,” she says sweetly. “’I know it’s eating away at you. ‘How can a vampire so much younger be so much stronger?’ The question is clear on your face.”

  “Our powers grow as we age and drink blood,” I repeat. “There’s no way to expedite the process.”

  She smiles. “And yet here you are. And here I am. And the contrast between our abilities is simply… staggering.”

  My jaw tightens. “How, then?” I say.

  “The Blood of The Ancient.”

  I advance on her. “Tell me.”

  “You met him. You felt him. You know his strength.”

  “Yes,” I say. “But he would not spread his blood amongst all of this coven. What vampire would share? There are too many here, he would be a shell. No,” I shake my head. “He could not have given it away. Not like that.”

  “Are you truly so limited in your beliefs,” she asks, “that you think there is only one way of transferring strength?”

  My head snaps to her.
“What do you mean?”

  “There is a chalice,” she explains, “rimmed with eighteen rubies. It’s an ancient artifact, guarded jealously by your father. It is what lets him rule.”

  “How do you know this?” I ask.

  “There’s little of The Crypts I don’t know,” she answers obscurely.

  “Who are you?” I ask her again.

  “Someone with ambition,” she tells me. “Someone… a lot like you.”

  “Fine.” She won’t give me a better answer, and I’m in no position to press. “So this chalice. What does it do?”

  “One drop of The Ancient’s blood, placed inside the rim, multiplies and expands to be enough to feed our whole coven,” she says. “The rubies on the edge are infused with a dark and powerful magic. There are ceremonies held, every ninety days, in which that blood is shared with all. But,” she sighs, “only the tiniest portion is given to us. Your father hoards the majority of it for himself.”

  My eyes fill with greed. “The chalice is key to his power,” I say.

  “Yes,” she nods slowly. “Now you’re starting to understand. His rule is accomplished by two things. On the one hand is The Ancient’s unwavering loyalty to him. On the other, is —”

  “The magic chalice,” I say. My excitement is growing. “What more do you know of it? Does it enhance anybody’s blood? What if a vampire drinks more than is distributed by the ceremony?”

  “Well then, such a vampire becomes even stronger,” she says. She comes to me. “The potential of such a vampire becomes… limitless.”

  My mind swims with the possibilities. “If I controlled the chalice…”

  “We,” she corrects.

  I nod impatiently, “If we were to control it…”

  “Then we would rival any who walk this earth,” she says.

  I start pacing briskly about the room. My strides are long and sharp to go along with my thoughts. “The strength the chalice gives, it’s temporary?” I ask. “That is why the ceremonies take place again and again. Am I right? Or does every drink build on the previous one?”

  “Temporary,” she agrees. “You want to know why none who enter The Crypts ever leave? Why they all have such loyalty to the King? It’s because he has them all addicted. Who would turn away?”

  “But you’re different,” I say. “Why? What’s made you so?”

  Her eyes take on a shadowy look. “This and that,” she says softly.

  “This and that,” I repeat flatly.

  “Yes,” she snaps. “This and that.”

  I stop in front of her. She stares up at me, defiance clear in her eyes.

  I want to kiss her.

  I don’t, of course. The natural hierarchy of power stands in the way of that. But if I had a sip from the chalice, if I could have even the briefest understanding of that strength. . .

  “You don’t share the others’ loyalty.”

  “No.”

  “You would go against your King.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my reasons. Will you help?”

  “You knew,” I pledge, going down to one knee, “that I would be yours from the moment you saved me.”

  Until it’s my turn to rise above.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  JAMES

  Victoria takes me on a brief tour of The Crypts. There are many places she is not allowed. The boundaries only increase with me as a companion.

  So after a fruitless hour we return to my room. “I still don’t understand.” I tell her, “Why you are taking a chance on me.”

  “Maybe it’s you who is taking a chance on me,” she replies. “I could be leading you to your destruction.”

  “You saved me from that.”

  “And how long will your loyalty last, I wonder? Until you get what you want? What is it that you want, James?”

  “How did my father know I was sent here to kill him?”

  Her eyebrows rise. “You admit to that?”

  “He proclaimed it as fact.”

  “That is why I chose you.”

  “Yes, but how did he know?”

  She considers. “When you came upon us,” she says. “Above ground. Did The Ancient greet you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you let him touch you?”

  I think back. “Yes.”

  “That is how he knew. The Ancient has powers greater than you imagine. When he made contact, he saw the truth of your heart.”

  “But I did not intend to kill my father. Not truly. I was sent for that, yes, but —”

  “And that is why he let you live!” she laughs. “Did you think I could really influence him? All I did was provide a nudge in the other direction. It was all his choice.”

  “And now he knows I am bound to you.”

  “And me to you.”

  “You’re different from the others,” I say. “Aren’t you?”

  “You know I am.”

  “You did not want to be like this.” I gesture at us. “You did not want to be a vampire. You resent what you have become.”

  She considers, then shakes her head. “No. I resent the way I was made. I am grateful for what I have become.”

  “You want to stand on your own. Don’t you? You crave autonomy.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” she asks me heatedly. “If you spent your whole life being raised like a pig for slaughter, wouldn’t you resent those who had done it to you?”

  Something finally clicks in my head. “You come from one of the five witch clans! Don’t you? That’s the only reason you are the way you are!”

  “Independent?”

  “No. Defiant.”

  She sighs. “When I was born,” she says, “an evil creature came in the night and murdered my family. My mother, my father, my brother and sister—none were left alive… save for me. I was made an orphan and abandoned in the world.

  “When I was ten that same creature found me again. He was a young man and strikingly beautiful. He slipped through my window in the middle of the night and offered me a choice; come with him, or end up like the rest of my family. He said he was there to finish the job.

  “I screamed. The nuns heard. Before they could rush to my room the young man swept me up in his arms and whisked me away. I was brought,” she grimaces, “here. Into The Crypts. Destined to never again see the sun.”

  “But your skin,” I say. “It’s golden. How?”

  “That deprivation made me yearn for the sunlight more than anything else. When I was turned and had my freedom given back to me—I went out into the day.”

  “That should have killed you,” I breathe.

  “It nearly did. The Ancient found me and gave me his blood. Not from the chalice. From himself.”

  I suck in a breath of surprise.

  “Something broke inside of me then. A shift, and ever since, I was different from the rest. I survived and know the sun cannot kill me. The pain when I go out, of course, is nearly unbearable, but I have that which no other vampires possess.”

  “Freedom,” I say.

  “Of a sort. But there was only one reason The Ancient rescued me that day. It was the same reason the young vampire killed my family and left me alive.”

  “Your ancestral bloodline,” I say. “Going back to the clans.”

  She nods. “I’ve studied the celestial charts. I know who I am.” She flexes a fist. “And,” she adds in a softer tone, “whom I was mistaken to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was my sister, my twin, who your Father needed. She was the one born at the proper time, when the zodiacs were in position to grant her the gift of magic. But the one who was sent after me made a mistake and killed her, while letting me live.

  “He was punished for it, of course, when the truth came out. But it was after I was turned. Only then did they realize I was not her. That I was of no use to your father as a proper witch.”

  “Yet you’re still alive.”

  She
gives a coy smile. “I have other talents that men find useful.”

  A spark of attraction flares inside me.

  “The others here hate me for it. I was your father’s mistress for a number of years.” She sighs. “Until he grew bored of me. But it was enough to guarantee my life.”

  “And now you’re on your own.” I’m starting to understand Victoria a lot more. “You’re on your own, and you need an ally. Somebody with no ties to others in The Crypts.”

  “Except for the strongest tie of all,” she says. “Believe me, James. We will exploit that tie, and I will have vengeance on those who killed my family. With the chalice in our hands, you and I will be unstoppable.”

  “But how do we get it?” I ask. “I don’t know the layout of this place. I am blind to the currents of power.”

  “You are the king’s son,” she says. “And I am his former lover. We will find a way. But first…” Her eyes glimmer. “We need us a proper witch.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ELEIRA

  The plane makes a rough landing, and James emerges from the pilot’s cabin.

  I glare at him. “Where are we? What do you want with me?”

  He leans back and crosses his arms. “Your cooperation,” he says.

  “Like I would ever help you.”

  “You think you have a choice?” He leaps at me, crossing the space in a single bound. He pins me to the back of the seat. “You think you have any say in what happens to you?”

  He wants me to be scared. In truth, I feel terrified, but I would never let him know.

  I meet his eyes and lift my chin. “You’re not going to kill me,” I declare. “If you were, I’d already be dead.”

  He laughs. “Is that your greatest concern?”

  He grabs my hair by the roots and jerks my head to one side. A long expanse of my neck is exposed. I feel extra-vulnerable.

  He brings his lips to my ear. “Eleira,” he whispers. “You must know there are fates worse than death.”