“I didn’t have high hopes for that barbarian anyway,” Dean admits with a chuckle. Feeling the sun on his bald head, he pulls his night cloak tighter around his body even though he is protected by an enchanted obsidian collar around his neck. “There might be some potentials hiding in the Yagervan Plains or the Crysvale Tundra. You know how some of the Dawn Fangs stay far away from human society. They don’t all possess your genius and ambition to create such a beautiful empire. Give me a week to-”
“No, I want you to prepare an emissary and get Apelios ready for our esteemed guests,” the Vampire Queen says, her eyes vanishing from the ruby. The faint image of a pillow-covered bed comes into focus, but it is blocked when a bronze hand covers the other side of the gem. “I hope you aren’t trying to peek, Sir Pendrac, because I’m not decent. Tell the gladiators, servants, and citizens that we will soon host the greatest vampires of Windemere. One of them will become my king and then I will have my future with a side of delicious revenge. All I’m missing are the last three ingredients to my fun.”
“I’m sorry, your highness, but I don’t understand.”
“I’m trying to be poetic, Dean, so let me have my fun.”
“What if there are other potentials with the targets?”
“Take them too, but I could really care less.”
“I believe you mean-”
“Correcting me will cost you one of your precious harem girls.”
Knowing that she is not bluffing, the butler bows his head and goes down the stairs to begin his preparations. The crowd has already cleared out of the arena and left a handful of caretakers to clean the walls and rake the fresh sand. None of them are able to see into the viewing box where the ruby melts and reforms into the moving statue of a slender woman. The grotesque creation has no features and its hair is stuck in a position that resembles being wind-swept, the effect made stranger by the lack of even a gentle breeze. Once the sun strikes the jewel golem, a hazy image appears on the wall and stays there even when the construct turns around. The creature reaches out to touch the picture, which is rippling with a black energy that threatens to consume the entire thing. Growing an abnormally wide smirk, the statue plunges its hand into the wall and the illusionary figure pops like a balloon.
“Everything you hold dear will be mine, old friend,” the Vampire Queen whispers as her creation crumbles into a pile of thumb-sized rubies. Not wanting them to go to waste, she has them roll through a hole in the wall and fall into one of her many stashes. “No reason to lose such sparkling treasures. I’m sure you would agree, my old . . . traitorous . . . friend.”
1
“Join my father and-”
“For the last time, I’m not interested, Steven.”
“That’s Stephen Kerna-”
“I care even less right now.”
“If you’re not-”
“With you then I’m against you. I know the drill, you pathetic waste of immortality.”
“How dare-”
Flipping a severed arm into his hand, Clyde jams the limb into the dark-haired man’s mouth and casually wipes his fingers on his pants. The powerful vampire looks around at the devastated forest and wonders if his opponent has contributed anything to the destruction. Sniffing the air, he finds that the cocky immortal’s blood is all that is smeared across the landscape and the only injury he has suffered is a splinter from a tree that he used as a club. Examining his corn-shaped necklace, Clyde buffs a mark out of it and turns around to find that Stephen has fully recovered, the angry man gasping for air due to the strain on his magic. With a sigh, the vampire unleashes a little of his Lord’s Rage and inhales the wisps of red that flow from his body. As the Dawn Fang cracks his knuckles, the battered immortal’s long hair shortens and his fancy clothes turn into familiar black garments. Realizing that his enemy is changing to mimic his look, Clyde roars and grabs the man by the face. His grip drives his fingers into the soft flesh, which wriggles in an attempt to regenerate the damage. Instead of tearing Stephen’s head off, the silver-fanged vampire leaps high into the air and hurls him towards the horizon with the darkest clouds.
“Be somebody else’s problem, copycat,” Clyde mutters while he takes a seat under a dented tree.
The instant he leans back, the vampire tumbles into his own shadow and finds himself floating upside down in a dark void. Arms crossed and foot tapping on nothing, he stares at a grinning Dawn Fang in a hydra-skin jacket. Mab’s green eyes sparkle like gems and she has let her chestnut hair grow an inch past her shoulders over the last two years. Clyde considers mentioning that he notices the change, but stops when he considers that she might simply have been too busy transporting womb-born and pulling heists to give herself a haircut. Already disappointed in his previous battle, he knows that a spat with his partner would only make him angrier and more frustrated. The sound of bellowing monsters echo in the distance, the strange creatures always keeping their distance whenever the deadly progenitor is brought into their realm. He finally rights himself and tucks his hands into his pockets, which forces Mab to grab him by the elbow. It takes Clyde a moment to realize that they are flying arm in arm, so he slips out of her grasp and catches her by the wrist.
“It was either that or drag you by the ankle,” the burglar says with a smirk. Hearing the monsters before she sees them, she swerves around a flock of ephemeral sheep that can drain the moisture from whatever they touch. “So, the boys are back at Nytefall after investigating the latest disappearances. It was Narwid and his gang, which is a shame because they were working with mortals. You should probably hear the report from Luther since he worked all night with Chastity to get as much information as possible. Those two are so close you’d think something was going on behind closed doors. Guess you aren’t in the mood for gossip. That meeting not go very well?”
“Another idiot out for world domination who thinks the Dawn Fangs would make the perfect army,” Clyde replies as they pick up speed. Remembering the splinter, he calmly bites off the itchy finger and spits it into the mouth of a yawning, pufferfish-like creature. “I hope they get the hint this time because I’m tired of being treated like a thug for hire. How did we never know that there were so many ambitious warlords, necrocasters, and maniacs out there? Doesn’t make me feel that special now.”
“Oh, you’re a hundred times the brutal monster that any of them are, but you’re smart enough to hide it,” Mab declares before she hears a scream in her head. No longer jarred by the sudden outbursts of the dead, she whispers a few curses in the spirit’s native tongue, which convinces it to leave her alone. “I think I’ve got most of the basic languages down. At least, a few juicy threats and naughty words, which throw the voices off. They always seem louder in here, which makes me wonder if this is part of the afterlife. You know, we’ve never really explored this place.”
Clyde gives a yank to stop his partner’s momentum, the jerk nearly tearing her arm out of its socket. “You’ve got to be kidding. This isn’t the time for wandering in the dark. Xavier is hosting his little party in a few days and I want to crash it. He has to drop the wards to let the new council in as well as all of the dignitaries he’s invited. All to see him get crowned and not in the fun way. Pompous bastard is actually going to call himself the Vampire King. It’s like he’s already won the war when it’s only been ten years.”
“Nineteen years.”
“What?”
“It’s been nearly two decades with very little progress.”
“Well, why is that?”
“Because a large-scale slaughter would reveal us to the mortals and you want to draw out your fun.”
“This plan is better than me acting like a moping warlord.”
“True, but Xavier is probably expecting us.”
“That’s only because I responded to a stolen invitation.”
“You what?”
Digging her claws into Clyde’s wrist, Mab kicks her legs to send them hurtling towards a specific pinprick of light
. She jams a finger into the tiny hole and opens it enough to roughly shove her partner through. Taking a step to her left, the burglar comes out next to the table instead of underneath. Claiming a seat in the corner, she watches as Clyde tosses the piece of furniture away and is immediately met with a chorus of complaints. He looks around at his three friends who were enjoying a feast that is now splattered against the meeting hall’s far wall. Only Bob has managed to hold onto most of his meal, the pointy-eared Dawn Fang having impaled the food on his lance. Wearing nothing more than a loincloth, the vampire offers some of his stash to the other Vengeance Hounds, but they decline after seeing how many hot peppers the black and their yellow-haired friend has stuffed into the dishes. Stomach rumbling from being on the road for so long, Luther Grathan runs a hand through his tangled mess of red hair and repeatedly flicks his other thumb over the point of one of his sickles. Giving in to his hunger, the forest tracker transforms into a raven and swiftly flies over to the mess. He pecks at whatever seems edible, his bird form making the scavenging feel more natural. Watching his friends, Titus Winthrop sighs and picks up a jug of blood that he placed on the floor instead of the table. The large warrior still has his swords on his back, but his chainmail shirt has been draped over the arm of a couch. Seeing no reason to stay in the chair, which is barely able to hold his weight, the scarred Dawn Fang stretches out on the sofa and nurses his drink.
“The great leaders of our world,” Mab chuckles while she watches Clyde sit on the corner of a paper-covered desk. She pulls an acorn out of her pocket and tosses it to Luther, who catches it in his beak. “So, the master of strategy here has apparently told Xavier that we’re going to crash his party. Personally, I don’t think it’s crashing when we already announced our arrival. I know we agreed to make a statement and I really want to take as much of their treasury as I can, but I think we should stay away. He’s going to have some nasty surprises for us and I’d rather our enemies waste their resources preparing for an attack that never happens. He’d look like a fool and maybe his council will turn on him. What do the rest of you think?”
“That’s one way to go,” Bob replies, his mouth full of roasted chicken. Swallowing the bones whole, the vampiric elf stops talking to allow his throat to heal from the jagged meal. “On the other hand, Xavier might expect us to not show up after announcing our intentions. That means, he won’t do anything and we’d look like cowards. On the third hand, Nadia could be aware that we know he might expect us to not show up and tell him to prepare because we don’t want to be called cowards. On the fourth hand-”
“Please stop before you have more hands than an octopus,” Luther interrupts, the forest tracker transforming back into his human form. He glowers at his friend, who stares at him with open-mouthed surprise. “For what will not be the last time, I have the power to turn into a raven, Bob. You saw me change. How do you keep forgetting what I can do? At this point, I really think you just like driving me to the brink of insanity.” Taking a deep breath to recover his composure, he takes a seat on the floor and pulls out a rag to clean one of his sickles. “As I was going to say before my outburst, I think we should go because it is the only time those wards will be down. I doubt we’ll have another opportunity, so we need to take it regardless of our intentions being known. The only questions are how many people do we bring and how can we get them in there.”
Everyone turns to Titus, who stops picking at his fangs with a toothpick and puts his hands behind his head. “Womb-born are immune to the wards. Otherwise, Nyte couldn’t recruit so heavily from their numbers. They’re only prevented from getting out of the city, but that isn’t our concern. I’ve been training a small force that can sneak inside over the next two days. They’ve been in Gregorio’s lair this whole time, so our enemies won’t recognize them. Glad not all of the older ones were part of Lost’s army because they’ve been very helpful with infiltration. Now, it won’t be much, but Xavier hosts more old-world vampires than Dawn Fangs, so we’ll have the power advantage. So, what do you think of the other problem, Clyde?”
“We didn’t get into that,” Mab answers before nodding to Luther. She abruptly scratches at her ear until it bleeds, which she dabs at with a stolen handkerchief. “Sorry about that. Keep hearing this voice that doesn’t feel right. I think it’s an angry spirit, but it sends a strange chill up my spine. The language is old and garbled, so I can’t understand exactly what it wants. It’s nothing to worry about. I probably stole a cursed object and need to talk to one of those shamans we turned last month. Tell him what you heard, Grathan, because I’d feel weird giving him your report.”
“Has nothing to do with the fact that you napped when I tried to explain it earlier,” the other Dawn Fang jokingly points out. Flipping to his feet, he pulls a scroll off his belt and tosses it to Clyde, who lets it sail over his head. “One of these days, I’m going to stop wasting your time with the written stuff first. We’ve had another report of missing and murdered Dawn Fangs, which makes it the thirtieth incident in the last five months. This time it was Narwid who we found in the remains of his hideout and his mortal partner. None of his gang were in the wreckage. Like the other attacks, we found trace amounts of crystal powder, but we don’t know what that means. We have reason to believe that this has something to do with those Vampire Queen rumors.”
Clyde creates the illusion of large eyes above his head, the watery pupils rolling in their translucent sockets. “I thought we already agreed that this mystery person is a myth. Probably a bunch of assassins doing the hits and the rumors are unrelated. If there was any truth to it then Luther or Chastity would have found something more substantial. After all, what are the chances of there being a powerful Dawn Fang out there who I don’t know about? Even a womb-born would have exposed itself by now. Not to mention, we used to hear about a mysterious Vampire Queen all the time before the Great Cataclysm.”
“Could be a ghost,” Bob quickly interjects.
“Or Nadia has been testing the title,” Titus adds with a yawn.
“Could be another psychopath seeking world domination,” Mab casually says.
Lacking any more information, Luther shrugs and explains, “All of those are viable options, which Chastity and I are looking into. There isn’t much to work with, so we might have to wait until something bigger happens. It’s entirely possible that this is an old-world vampire who has been in hiding since long before the Great Cataclysm. There’s no proof that this is a Dawn Fang in the first place. I’m only concerned because we’re hearing more rumors about this person every week, which is bizarre considering nobody has seen her.”
Wanting to move on to planning the assault on Nyte, Clyde gets to his feet and goes to pull the table out of the far wall. He opens the door to let in a breeze and look at the open courtyard of his fortress, which is dotted with cabins. The Dawn Fang waves to a group of guards who are resting on the wall, three of the sprouting wings to patrol the skies. The possibility that the Vampire Queen is under his nose comes to his mind, but he pushes the thought away out of fear of becoming paranoid. He still cannot stop his Lord’s Rage from stirring enough that red mist rises from his fingertips. Images of walking into a challenging battle flit through his mind and he licks his lips in anticipation. A smack to his arm snaps Clyde out of his trance and he nods to Titus, who goes back to his couch.
“We can only focus on the problems that we can see,” the black-haired Dawn Fang claims in his best leadership voice. He snaps his fingers to stop Bob from turning invisible, the Vengeance Hound already on the verge of disappearing. “You know what I mean. Our energy needs to go towards ruining Xavier’s party. This Vampire Queen will be handled when she decides to become more than a rumor. Nothing we can do about her now. To put you at ease, Luther, I’ll leave it in Chastity’s hands. I want you focused on fighting. Guess that’s the end of the meeting. I have something else to attend to.”
“What could you possibly have to do now?” Mab asks in surprise.
/> “I require solace to contemplate all that I’ve experienced,” Clyde answers with an impish smile. He expression melts away when he sees that his little joke fell flat. “I want a nap, Winthrop. Wake me in eight hours unless this mystery woman appears on our doorstep. I’ll make sure to curtsey for her royal highness. Oh, and one of you needs to do something about collecting taxes. That’s been on my chore list for a while, but I don’t want to bother. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to get them and not cause a riot.”
Muttering promises of pain and suffering, Mab storms over to the desk and pulls a large sack out of a drawer. Shaking the bag to make sure it is empty, the burglar grabs a nearby quill pen to write the words ‘Tax Money’ on the coarse fabric. Before she can leave, Clyde whistles and points at a stack of papers, which she angrily stuffs into one of her jacket pockets. Mab steps into a shadow and vanishes with her arm held high to make sure the rude gesture lasts as long as possible.
*****
Running a comb through his silver hair, Xavier Tempest tries to ignore the banging going on behind him. He focuses on gazing over the city of Nyte, which is preparing for the arrival of his new council. After years of careful recruiting and turning, a handful of loyal nobles have been created to support his claim to the throne. The fact that half of them are Dawn Fangs threatens to sour Xavier’s good mood, but he tells himself that they are necessary for victory. Watching banners depicting all of the royal house crests get hung above the streets, he finds it easier to believe that his decision is a smart one. For the first time in decades, Xavier’s beloved city has the beautiful spark that made him want to keep her safe centuries ago. His attention drifts to the fortification wall that surrounds the dark buildings and he transforms his eyes to make them see further, their appearance resembling fleshy binoculars. Cloaked soldiers mingle with the Dawn Fang mercenaries his advisors recommended he hire for the big day. He can tell that his men are suspicious of the outsiders, the rumor that some of them are agents of Nytefall having spread within hours of the first arrival. He smiles at the idea, which he hopes is true thanks to the plan he has crafted for Clyde’s possible arrival.
Rivalry (War of Nytefall Book 3) Page 2
