It all starts at the small details. It’s there that you have to nip it in the bud, and maintain the strength that made the house great in the first place.
Mona did not have to ask to know what Augustus, Yonafrew or any of their predecessors would have done. Punishment was necessary. The tricky part was the matter of deciding how to carry it out.
Mona had always been treated like a child at the Academy. This was the first time that she truly felt to be in an adult role, in a position of teacher, discipliner, instead of the one being disciplined.
What would Lord Hyde do? Mona pondered. As she thought about it, she gestured with a finger for the elderly servant to fully enter the bedroom and to shut the door after him.
He did just that with the smoothness expected of his position. His nervous body language was gone, replaced by a blank expression that bespoke an understanding of what was going to happen, and the desire not to give Mona any further reason to punish him.
Mona smiled, knowing that he would carry out any task, accept whatever she decided. Well, not anything, she corrected herself. He is not my property. Not yet.
Punishment would have to be minimal, appropriate for the infraction, and that Lord Hyde would approve. It was not really within her authority to take any action against a servant, but in her desire to act as Augustus and his father and be one of them, Mona took it on herself to exercise the function, and prove to herself as much as to anyone else that she had the fortitude and judgement to make such decisions.
“There is something I must say,” the servant gasped, as Mona raised the bird to her lips.
She was going to decide after her morning drink. The servant had interrupted that. “Oh?” she said, quirking an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“My Lady, you must not-you must not consume its blood,” the servant stuttered. “Lord Hyde sent me to collect you as soon as possible. I expect he will tell you all about the workings of being a vampire, but I can see that you are already in need of basic information.”
“What is it?” Mona growled, not happy to be talked down to by one of her underlings.
Here the servant stuttered, letting slip his cool resolve for only a moment before pulling back his blank, expressionless mask. “The blood that you consume—not all blood is equal.”
Mona nodded slowly. She knew this to be true. There were gifted and ungifted, and all sorts of manner of beasts. Mona could draw on the life force of ogres, goblins, even vampires.
“It is like food, my lady. The type that you consume will have quite different effects. Some blood will be nourishment, some foul, others close to poison.”
Mona reconsidered the canary and lowered it. Her fangs retracted, clueing in to what the servant was getting to.
“A base animal like that bird…” The servant did not shake his head, but he paused long enough to give the same effect. “It would dirty you, and I do not say that lightly. I only say it for your own good,” he hurriedly added. “You would not like the effect, and you would not be able to feed again until the bird’s blood fully left your system. Otherwise it would contaminate whatever blood you chose next.”
“I see,” said Mona. She let go of the canary and it flew out from her hand, chirping, up to the tall bookshelf on her wall next to the door leading to her bathroom.
“It is good that you told me,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back, and somehow looking down at the servant, even though, hunched over and meek as he was, he stood a head taller than her. “It does not remedy the fact that you forgot your duty.”
The servant said nothing.
“If you had enchanted the cage as you were supposed to, I would have never picked up the canary. It would not have drawn my attention,” Mona explained. It was unnecessary, but it felt good for her to vocalize the exact reasoning. “You very well could have found me feasting on the bird.”
The servant blanched. “It was my failing,” he admitted.
“Good, that is good. Come here.”
The elderly servant came forward and allowed Mona to embrace him, one hand over the back of his neck as if they were lovers, the other gripping his arm in the same way that Augustus had done to Mona the night before. “And what about your blood?” she asked softly. “Are you also dirty?”
In reply, the servant pulled down the edge of his collar, revealing a line of puncture wounds along his neck. Mostly scars, showing that it had been some time since a vampire last took him.
“It is Lord Hyde who feeds on you?”
“At times he as chosen me.”
“Then I choose you now,” said Mona, and in an instant her fangs were back out. She found that she knew exactly where to bite. She had gained a sixth sense that told her the heat map of her prey.
On instinct, the hollow tips of her fangs pierced cleanly into the servant’s vein, and she began to suck. The servant did not gasp or stagger.
When Mona finished, she wiped her lips and said, “Inform Lord Hyde that I will join him momentarily,” doing her best to keep her voice steady as the thrill from her first feeding gave her a shock of power and adrenaline. She felt as if she could fight for days, a testament to her ability to transform the blood in a source of energy. It was like she was a semi truck that had gone from empty to jacked up on diesel.
“There is no need,” came a voice from the hallway. Augustus opened the door and entered the room. He had been listening, waiting outside.
Mona glanced at the servant but he avoided her eyes. Realization dawned on her. “Was this your plan?” she asked.
Augustus smiled sweetly. “Our servants do not so easily forget their duties. You did the right thing. This was a test, of sorts.”
“How did I do?”
“Splendidly. You may leave now,” he added offhandedly to the servant, who shuffled out, the rosiness gone from his cheeks.
“A test for what?” Mona asked. She was still in her nightgown; she hoped that she had time to clean up and put on one of her gem-studded outfits. The gems were no longer needed as the power she got from drinking blood was enough to stifle the overflow caused by tapping too deeply into the behelit seed. It was a good thing that the clothing was beautiful on its own, even if they served no other function.
“My father will explain everything in the carriage,” Augustus said. He ran a hand over his slick black hair, and quickly touched the hem of his vest, pulling it tight and back into position. “The wedding is today. You must get ready.”
13
Suri
Suri gazed out her window on the snowy mountainside, on the tops of the snow covered pine trees on the forest far, far below. Three times Traxan had knocked on her door, trying to confirm that Suri was ready for the wedding, that she had her dressed on and was prepared in the way that she had been ordered to—ready for the trip from Korka’s mountain fortress, back to Lodum where she was to be wed in front of a million fae.
The same fae who slaughtered hundreds of humans, Suri thought. And I’m to be their Queen.
None of it made any sense. She had only ever come to Faerie because it was what her work required. Delivering packages as a courier had not been her first choice out of the Academy. It was merely to make ends meet while she waited to apply to one of the big Guilds. It’s not that she liked fae, or spending time in Lodum. Quite the contrary. Suri had always pitied the humans who had decided to set up shop here, sacrificing the wellness of their day-to-day life to retire young. She still did not know what had happened to the members of Black Gauntlet, the headquarters in Lodum, and to Paulie and Clarissa and all the other human refugees that she had left behind.
I should have stayed with them. It was foolish for me to go with Waylan and the others to Turndour. My place is with my own kind.
That was how the whole thing had started, with her arrival coinciding with the burning of the human district.
The cold landscape through her frost-covered window did not calm Suri, but rather hardened her heart. Every time Traxan knocked she was
sharply reminded of Vestrix falling beneath Lord Korka’s spell, her twisted form laying on the bough of the great tree right outside Lodum’s wall. In her heart of hearts Suri hoped that her aunt, the leader of Black Gauntlet, had somehow survived, taken away by one of the mercenary members. It seemed possible, yet neither did Lord Korka seem one to miss a death-dealing blow, not when he meant it. And he did seem to mean it when he attacked Vestrix.
Suri only had one aunt now, he aunt Hilder who, unlike Vestrix’s raven colored hair, had the same fiery curls as Suri. Where she lived and what she did was still unknown to Suri. She assumed that her aunt resided in Lodum, perhaps at the Blackwater manor where they had first met. But again, she did not know for sure, so all she could do was hope that Hilder was still alive, and that she had not been targeted by Lord Korka’s minions. With the invasion of the city, there was no telling what had happened. Half the city could be in rubble, for as much as Suri knew. She was eager to get back and assess the situation, and learn what had happened to the humans. They had been captured. Traxan had showed her as much through the crystal ball in the map room. But it was no necessarily all of the humans. To be sure, there had been a great number lined up outside the gallows. Perhaps some had escaped, along with Black Gauntlets members. There should have been enough warning for them to take flight. The biggest thorn in Suri’s side, the blackmail keeping her compliant, was the fact that Amber was being held hostage. It was maddening. Suri gritted her teeth. She had planned to play it cool and dance the dance of intrigue, trying to out-sneak and out-play and out-mastermind Traxan and the rest of the Hellfire Guild, to which Lord Korka was the master. That plan had quickly fallen away, the night she returned to her bedroom, after looking into Traxan’s crystal ball. She could not control her emotions well enough to keep up the mask of fake niceties.
Sitting by the window, her jaw was clenched, painfully even. She gripped tightly the arm of her chair, as she had been doing for the past hour. Only flexing her fingers now and then when the muscles screamed for her to stop. The tension would not go away. She had to do something, but there weren’t any options. They had been taken away from her. She was like a puppet who could see its strings. Even if Amber was freed, Suri was still a pawn in a game that had been going on for thousands of years and she had only now entered, to be used so that one player could gain advantage over another.
She had not touched or seen her wedding dress since Traxan first showed it to her inside the wardrobe in her small room. She had told herself she would not wear it, despite what she had said to Traxan her gut told her that she had no intention of going through with the ceremony. That, at the last minute, she would sprint off into the crowd, or spit at Lord Korka’s feet, denounce him, and suffer the consequences. That was just Suri’s personality, to call a spade a spade and to not put up with bullshit. She could never be one of those poster girls pretending to be happy, like a Barbie Doll or Stepford housewife, which was exactly what Lord Korka wanted. A little half-human half-fae pet for a bride, that he could show off to the public and use to claim dominance over Lodum. And then, in his mad scheme, to take over Earth as well.
None of this Suri discovered for herself. It was all second-hand knowledge. She did not begin to imagine that she understood the inner workings of politics of the game that was being played out. She was only a pawn, after all, and she knew her place quite well. But in a critical moment a pawn can change the tide of an entire game. Suri would act, she knew that. The tension within her, making her clench the arm of her chair and gaze endlessly out her window as she seethed with resentment and anger, was not only because of her current situation, the blackmail against her, but from the tension of deciding when to act, and how. It was likely that she would only have one opportunity to strike. It was all that she could plan for, and even one opportunity was not a certainty. If she had any luck at all, there would be a brief window for Suri to make a difference, to tip the scales in a different direction. Change the course of history.
Lord Korka underestimated her. He had not given her any attention or sized up Suri’s character. She was half-blooded, yes, but from Earth, making her inconsequential, her magic a meagre pittance beyond contempt. Suri knew people like Lord Korka. There were many on Earth at the Academies and elsewhere, even among the councillors. They were the types of people who believed that magically ability was all that mattered in the world, that one’s value and character, self-worth, determination, all attributes could be summed up with the one questions: “Which spells do you know, and how deep is your magical well?”
By underestimating Suri, the Hellfire Guild had put her in a unique position of power. They thought she would meekly go along with whatever they said. They could not have been more wrong.
“I’m going to bash in your door if you don’t answer me,” came Traxan’s sweet voice from out in the hallway.
Suri sucked in a deep breath, sighed and turned her gaze from the window. She was freezing. She grabbed a blanket from on top of her bed, threw it around her shoulders and walked barefooted to the door. Her feet had a blueish hue, yet she did not care. In fact she liked the dull, throbbing pain. It matched what she was feeling inside. And it showed to Traxan and to anyone else who cared to see that she would not be easily discomforted—she wasn’t a prissy little thing who they could bribe into a false sense of security.
Suri pulled open the door quickly and glared at Traxan. She was too tired to wear the mask of fake niceties. The game had ended. Suri had lost by deciding not to play. She was back to being her old stubborn, resistant self. She would not make this easy for the Hellfire Guild. Not one bit.
“I heard you the first three times,” Suri said. “You don’t need to come knocking every ten minutes.”
“I wouldn’t come knocking,” Traxan tersely replied, glaring up at Suri, “if you would tell me what’s going on. The wedding is today. The wedding,” he repeated, with added emphasis. “Do I need to show you the hostages again?”
“No, I remember well enough.”
“Then put on your wedding dress and make haste. Lord Korka is already on the rooftop. The dragon is waiting for you.”
“I’ll be ready,” said Suri, and she slammed the door in Traxan’s face. She smiled to herself, opened the wardrobe and took out the dress, and threw it onto the bed. She crossed her arms and stared at it, considered throwing it to the floor and trampling all over it, ripping it up into pieces and telling Traxan it simply would not happen. Maybe try to escape out the mansion, running through the grey metal halls until she found a door leading outside, and then using her magic to survive in the wilderness, make her way back to some civilized part of Faerie where she could take a portal.
No, it’s no good. I have to go along with the plan, for now anyway.
What really bothered her was that, after all her brooding, she still did not know how and when she would rebel. The wedding ceremony was the obvious choice for location, but how could she do it in a way that ensured Amber and the others would not be harmed? Should she just cause a major disruption and ruin the ceremony, and send the whole city into chaos? That was all Suri could think of at the moment. She had no other options, no other allies. In the chaos, Amber and the others might be able to escape—that is, if Suri could cause a large enough distraction. One that would require the full attention of the Hellfire Guild and its hell spawn troops. To do so would put blood on her hands. She had no doubt that the Hellfire Guild would be watching the ceremony, ready to give quick instructions to the handlers of the captured humans. It was a major risk. The choice was to do that, or to do nothing at all. Both were risks with different consequences, outcomes that could change the course of history.
For the time being, Suri had to bide her time, wear the dress, pretend that everything was under the Hellfire Guild’s control, so that when she did turn on the tyrants it would be at the most impactful moment. Unexpected.
Suri stripped off her clothing and slipped into the wedding dress. It fit her perfectly. She d
id not mind recognizing how well it fit, and how good she looked in it. Her red hair tumbled down past the lacy collar, standing out brightly against the white. The shoulders were puffed up, like the pads of a football player’s armor, but with nothing inside but air. The sleeves were tight, close to her muscles arms and biceps, all the way down to the bottom of her wrist, where the dress became frilly and lacy again, and a bit more loose and open. The kind of sleeves that would have to be rolled up while eating soup. The sleeves showed off Suri’s muscles in a way that she had not anticipated a dress ever doing for her. They had always seemed like girly things, that Amber shopped for but Suri would never enjoy wearing. She had no envy of the Prom Nights that ungifted appeared to enjoy.
Suri was large from her training at Black Gauntlet, her faerie blood allowing her muscles to grow twice as fast as normal. It had something to do with the way her blood channeled her well magic, Raja had explained offhandedly one day during sword training.
I guess I’m something of a Xena Warrior Queen for Faerie, Suri thought.
There were no shoes or other adornments to wear, so still in her bare feet, hair wild and uncombed, Suri stepped out into the hallway and met Traxan’s baleful gaze. Followed him as he quickly turned on his heel and took long strides toward the dragon landing platform on top of the fortress.
14
Suri
The dragon ride from Lord Korka’s mountain fortress back to Lodum gave a beautiful view of the Faerie Wilder. Suri only wished that she had better company. Lord Korka was silent, wearing his full body dark metal armor as always, massive and intimidating, emanating an aura of black magic and the stench that came along with it. Traxan chattered to someone through telepathic communication. Suri could tell by the way his lips moved, his furrowed brow, and an expression that Suri had seen too many times at the Academy to mistake for something else. They were planning ahead for the arrival of Faerie’s new King and Queen.
Faerie Queen: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Vampire's Bane Book 3 : Part I) Page 9
