“I do not bring my packs unless I know you are worthy of aid. But they are close enough if I choose to save Grenoble. However, if you are not interested in my offer, I can leave and lend my assistance to your neighbors.”
The vampires hissed their displeasure at being slighted, or compared to their neighbors, the bumpkins of St. Etienne and the pretenders of Lyon.
When one leaned to confer with another, Gareth quickly stepped menacingly to them, straightening his tall frame and stiffening with anger. It was better not to give them opportunity to ponder why he was alone and unescorted. “Soon your city will be flattened and your herds will be seized or scattered. You make the decision for your king, here and now.” Gareth struck the flat of his hand against the vampire’s shoulder. He waited another few heartbeats and then turned on his heel. “Very well. Send my regards to former King Vittorio.”
Two vampires grabbed his arms to prevent his leaving.
“How dare you touch me!” He yanked away his arm, drawing blood as it tore from their clawed grip.
Adele broke into a sweat as more excess power surged into her looking for release. Her body burned with the effort to contain it. She felt like a crumbling dam holding back a destructive wall of water. Several of the vampires glanced around wildly, sensing the change in the energies around them. Adele dropped to one knee and closed her eyes in concentration, silently repeating over and over a calming mantra taught to her by Mamoru.
Gareth snarled. “You are wasting my precious time.”
Another series of explosions shook the ground, and in the distance, dark shapes fell from the sky in pieces.
“Very well!” a vampire hissed. “Come with us.”
They all lifted into the air and aimed for the Bastille high above. Gareth followed, although this time he did look back. His gaze brushed over Adele, but clearly he did not see her. He turned back to his new companions and went to keep his appointment with the king.
Adele concentrated on maintaining her control, trusting Gareth to deal with his brethren. With time, the pressure eased inside her and the roar in her veins abated. Awareness crept back as she stood shakily and noticed a young human girl staring at her. The girl was dressed in filthy rags and her face was devoid of expression, sapped by the hopelessness of her situation. She was watching Adele with the same disassociation one would watch life pass by a windowpane.
To Adele’s surprise, when she moved, the girl stepped forward to follow her. The empress knelt and smiled, lifting a finger to her lips for silence. The girl’s brow furled and her head tilted to the side, the way a puppy would listen to a new sound. Ever so slowly the girl’s eyes brightened and the muscles in her face lightened as her lips drew into a matching smile, and she came to Adele’s side.
Adele reached out and touched the dirty cheek. This surprised the girl, whose eyes widened to twice their normal size. Adele again cautioned silence, and the girl’s own finger lifted to mimic the empress.
Adele’s heart swelled. This was the reason she was here. These people weren’t the mindless cattle most southerners believed them to be. They deserved a new chance. In a few short hours this child’s life would change. She would be free of the tyranny.
“Soon,” Adele whispered. “You’ll be safe soon.”
A tile hit the street with a startling crash. A vampire dropped to the ground beside them. He couldn’t see Adele but, with horror, she realized she had placed the child in danger. She had brought the girl to the attention of a hungry creature.
The child’s eyes were full of fear, yet also penitence. She didn’t cry or scream, but fell prostrate to the ground. The vampire towered over her.
No, Adele thought. She wasn’t going to watch this child be killed and eaten. Adele stood over the child right in front of the vampire, still masked by the ley line’s embrace. She let the energy give her focus.
The vampire hissed suddenly, and snarled. He glanced around wildly, backing away. He raised his hand to strike, assuming the child was the cause of his discomfort. She slipped off her connection to the line, almost like stepping through a curtain, and the shimmer faded from her body. The vampire reared back in surprise as he saw her dagger slashing downward. He barely had time to shout before Adele’s Fahrenheit blade buried in his chest. She gripped his throat to prevent him from raising an alarm. He gasped like a fish as the heat from Adele’s hand seared him, smoke rising from around her fingers, and he stumbled to the ground. The glowing dagger flashed as it was yanked out and then arced across the vampire’s throat, cutting through vocal cords. Adele pressed him to the dirt with the weight of her body, knees pinning the vampire’s outstretched arms.
The Fahrenheit blade plunged once more where her anatomy lessons told her that his heart should be. And then again. Adele’s breath hissed through clenched teeth. Precious minutes passed before his struggles ceased, and she shoved herself away and sat panting, bringing herself under control. The rush of adrenaline coursing through her system was almost as bad as the rush of power struggling to overwhelm her.
She sought out the little girl, who was on her hands and knees gaping at her, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Then the child’s attention dragged up to stare into Adele’s warm brown eyes. The empress offered a faint smile, again pressing a finger to her lips, wondering what the child was thinking at this moment. The girl’s attention went from Adele to the dead vampire several quick times, and then she ran off.
Adele was almost disappointed. She hoped she had made a connection. Straightening, she grabbed the vampire’s arms and dragged him into a secluded corner of the church. There was ample rubble to cover him. Sweeping the sky for more vampires, she moved quickly back to the ley line, and felt the warmth of its embrace.
Her pace quickened through the churchyard, risking a serious fall on the ice. Finally she reached the steep rocky footpath going up the mountainside. The way was nearly vertical. The road, if that was what it could be called, cut jarringly back and forth, going several hundred feet one way before veering back again. She had to stay in as straight a line as possible, however, to access the full power of the ley line. Scrub brush and snowdrifts were deep, but still she moved decisively, trying not to disturb the bushes. She had no idea where vampires might be. Their excellent eyesight could easily pick up movement from a great distance.
Adele’s breath wheezed through her blue lips. Her gloves and shoes were wet and cold. She was in good physical condition, thanks to Mamoru’s strict training regimen, but she was still a product of the languid Mediterranean, not the frigid Alps. The cold wind was growing ever more bitter, and the altitude was taking its toll.
She had to go over the curtain wall in order to enter the Bastille. Numb quivering fingers dug into the cracks in the stone, and Adele pulled herself up with aching arms. Without warning, black shadows crossed her and she froze. She craned her head to look. A vampire hovered just to her right, staring at the wall but not at her, not exactly. Something had caught his eye. The wind buffeted his nearly weightless frame farther away, but he continually returned to his original position, still staring, still hunting. Two more vampires gathered beside him, curious as to what had attracted his attention.
Adele’s panic swelled. Her body shivered on the exposed stone wall. The wind cut through her as if she wore nothing. If she hung there much longer she wasn’t sure she would have the strength to make it to the top.
Suddenly the three creatures dove to the earth. Adele flung herself around, one arm clinging to the wall, the other reaching for her dagger, but the vampires darted past her and fell on a small deer hiding in the undergrowth. It died in a spray of crimson.
The vampires laughed and congratulated the one who had made the kill first, as if it were a contest of speed. They left the kill; animal blood offered no nourishment to vampires. It had only been sport. They rose into the air and drifted toward the sounds of battle.
Adele sagged with ragged breaths against the frigid stones. Then she twisted and
resheathed her blade. Fingers wedged deep into the gaps without feeling any pain and she hauled herself up to the top. She lay shaking, repeating her meditation technique so as not to lose her concentration on the ley line.
Each exhalation brought a wheezing mantra past her lips. It took every ounce of willpower to push herself to her feet. She conjured thoughts of General Anhalt and his army giving their lives to buy her time, of the little girl below in Grenoble waiting for liberation, of Gareth distracting the clan leader so she could make her way uncontested. Focusing on all those people, she resumed her way to the fort. Finally the gaping mouth of an arched cavern loomed before her, promising some protection from the elements.
Adele halted inside the arch to let her snow-strained eyes adjust to the inky interior. A minute dragged by before the darkness receded, only to be replaced with the blurry shape of a vampire standing no more than a foot away from her, his fanged mouth gaping slightly, but thankfully gazing past her. He was sniffing the air, as if sensing something wasn’t right.
She forced her breathing to shallow. Her body, however, wouldn’t stop shivering. Her jaw clamped shut against the chattering. The vampire eased its masculine frame from the wall where he was leaning and moved toward her. Adele shifted and laid her body as close against the wall as possible, trying to avoid him touching her.
The vampire followed the scent he was tracking, stepping past Adele to go outside. Only then did she remember the animal carcass down the hill. The blood was probably like a beacon to any vampire. With relief, she pushed off from the wall and proceeded deep into the Bastille.
Gareth saw the bulk of King Vittorio surrounded by his clan lords on the crumbling terrace of the Bastille. Before the Great Killing, vampires were never so fat, but now it wasn’t uncommon. Snowfall cut the visibility, but the sounds of Anhalt’s assault were clear, as were flashes of fire and the chatter of small arms. Scouts dropped and lifted from the terrace carrying news and ferrying orders from the king. The jowly monarch looked up with a start as Gareth and his bodyguard landed nearby. The king continued talking with messengers and his gathered nobles, but his eyes flicked to Gareth occasionally. Vittorio didn’t seem shocked to see his visitor, but rather annoyed.
Gareth grew restive waiting for the king to summon him. His impatience must have shown because Vittorio smiled smugly. Valuable time passed, minutes of Adele being alone and unescorted. Gareth began to calculate what it would take to escape this situation, but he couldn’t be assured of killing all these vampires, and leading a chase back to Adele was useless. He could only wait for the fat king to acknowledge him. When the last round of runners went scurrying off, Vittorio raised a finger at the soldiers around Gareth.
The cadre’s commander bowed to the king. “Sire, we have found a visitor who craves your attention.”
“Gareth, isn’t it?” Vittorio said. “I haven’t seen you in a century or more, but you look like him, only older and softer.”
Gareth didn’t reply that Vittorio looked like an obscenely bloated version of the last time he had seen the king of Grenoble.
Vittorio flinched from a massive blast in the valley, then said, “I know why you’re here. I thought I was quite clear to your ambassador months ago that I have no interest in your Grand Coalition. As you can see, we are managing these humans quite well. I have no intention of surrendering my independence to Cesare, that upstart king of kings. Sending his brother won’t change my mind.”
Gareth’s brow gathered in surprise just as another explosion vibrated the ground. Cesare had courted Grenoble?
The king smiled, mistaking the reason for Gareth’s reaction. “Does battle disturb you, Prince Gareth?”
“No, Sire. I am far from danger here with you.”
Vittorio bristled and shook a plump finger at the foreign prince. “Watch your mouth.”
A messenger interrupted. “Your Majesty, I am sent from the war chief. The humans have completely abandoned their camp and have come in full force.” Several of the nobles tensed. “But they are already flagging. Their power will soon be spent.”
The king forgot Gareth’s comment and glanced at his noble companions with a satisfied air. “See, gentlemen? I told you they would have to come. Humans are so predictable. They have gambled and lost, as they must.” He turned to the courier. “Tell the war chief I want all packs out. Send three to fall on the humans from behind. There is no retreat for them this time. This is the moment we have waited for. We must crush them.”
The messenger departed up into the flakes. Several nobles bowed to the king and also took flight, eager to be in on the glorious slaughter they assumed was coming.
Vittorio put a friendly hand on Gareth’s arm. “As I told the lovely Lady Hallow, a human attack holds no dread for me. Unlike you Brits, we here in the Alps fight the humans in the south frequently. I told her we welcome an army, Equatorian or whomever. They came, and we trapped them like the foolish bugs they are. We bled them slowly until they had no choice but to attack, or lie down and die. Now we will finish them. Meanwhile, those weaklings who allied with your brother have fared much poorer. St. Etienne is gone, and Lyon may be next. I will stay safe and independent in my mountain fastness, thank you.”
Gareth kept a bland face despite his surprise at the king’s words. St. Etienne and Lyon allied with Cesare? His brother was clearly reaching out to clans across Europe and had created a far larger network than Gareth realized. It wasn’t just Munich and Budapest. Everything he had told Adele and Anhalt about the parochialism of the clans making it easy for the humans to face them one at a time was wrong. Cesare was again innovating in horrifying ways. Gareth reminded himself, once more, to stop underestimating his brother. It wasn’t just his life at stake anymore.
The king laughed, as did the remaining nobles. “Or have you come from Cesare to ask for my help? Perhaps you want my packs to save you? I know the humans continue to occupy St. Etienne despite Flay’s counterattacks.”
“Flay,” Gareth snarled involuntarily. The vile war chief was near. He would never be rid of her. Still, Flay was not his primary concern at the moment, as he was reminded when more distant blasts from the town rumbled the terrace. He flexed his hands nervously, discomfited by his too-long absence from Adele. He sniffed the air for hints of the empress, but there were none. He had to find her, to be sure she was safely to her goal. Even if she had found it on her own, she wouldn’t trigger the attack not knowing where Gareth was located.
The Scottish prince said, “Majesty, if there is nothing I can say to sway you to my brother’s side, I will take my leave.”
Vittorio regarded him curiously. “You haven’t said anything. You may go, but there will soon be a feast. Stay if you wish.”
“Thank you, no. My duties require me elsewhere. I will certainly tell Cesare of the magnificence of your packs.”
The king grunted with satisfaction and patted the prince on the shoulder. “It was a pleasure to see you, Gareth. I always assumed you would succeed Dmitri, and Cesare would be your messenger.” The fat monarch shrugged at the mysterious ways of the world. “Please do stop by again.”
“Thank you, Sire. I hope to spend time in Grenoble once the battle is over.”
Gareth lifted into the snowy air and angled hastily toward the St. Laurent side of the Bastille, dropping along the jagged path leading up the hillside where he whispered harshly, “Adele!” The wind echoed in his ears along with the far-off drumming of guns. He half crawled, half flew along the sheer stone wall, moving toward the river below. “Adele!”
He continued along the path, stopping and calling, with no response, until he arrived at the battlements immediately overlooking the church. Perhaps she had already reached the Bastille. He had been quite some time waiting for King Vittorio to speak to him. So Gareth retraced his steps back up the mountain. His limbs were numb from worry and his heart raced. He frantically searched the air for her scent. He listened for her voice, cursing the intermittent sounds of war that bl
otted out all sounds. The snow had increased and the wind grew stronger, so he found no trace of her on the ground either.
When he neared the Bastille, he followed the path to a doorway in the stone where an iron gate was rusted and falling aside. Snow had blown into the doorway and there, on the edge of the drift, protected from the wind, were faint tracks in the snow on the stone floor.
Adele. She was inside. Which meant she was close to her target.
Gareth scattered the white footprints to keep anyone who came after from seeing them, and plunged into the stone corridor.
Each dark turn Adele made brought another vampire standing or striding through the narrow passages. It took all of her concentration not to lose focus on the line and yet stay out of their way. One collision and she would be fair game.
Adele wished for more light, but vampires had no need of it. There were some human servants inside and they held faint candles, but they were few and far between. She kept her fingers touching the wall, and walked slowly, ever ready to step aside for a vampire who blocked her path.
Pressure built inside Adele, and she knew she was approaching the rift. Everything smelled earthy and green, full of life, even in the stone corridors of the fort. She wished she could see the lines rather than just sense them. Amazingly, in a flash of light, lines on the floor glowed white. Surges of energy flowed like blood, and much of it rushed toward her. Her mouth hung open in amazement when she saw the colors pooling around her. The sensations and smells were becoming overpowering, like overripe fruit. She was somehow drinking in the energy from the line where she stood.
There was a sharp pain, as if her skin was being stretched to its limit. Adele could barely hold the energy she contained, but she had to. There was no telling where Gareth was at this moment.
Anhalt’s assault was likely well inside the city, with no hope or intention of retreat. Thousands of vampires would be swarming the Equatorians. The slaughter on both sides must be terrible. Every minute Adele delayed escalated the loss of life mounting on the streets of Grenoble.
Kingmakers, The (Vampire Empire Book 3) Page 7
