A Shade of Vampire 49

by Bella Forrest

  “Got it!” Aida said before the connection was lost.

  Left with absolute silence in my head, I focused on keeping my breathing and my increasingly racing pulse under control. The mansion was left exposed, everything inside within reach for Azazel’s Destroyers. My brother and Aida were equally vulnerable, and, along with Anjani, Field, Eva, Aura, and Almandine, they were running for their lives.

  The only positive aspect in all of this was that they were somewhat protected by shape-shifters—and that was something I never thought I’d hear in this lifetime, along with the Green Tribe’s decision to come along.

  I looked up and saw that Draven’s expression was unchanged. Tension weighed heavily on his broad shoulders, his mouth was reduced to a small line on his ashen face, a vein was pulsating in his temple, and his whole body was shaking.

  “Draven, they’re okay,” I said slowly, feeling the rage pouring out of him in hot waves.

  “They took the Daughter and left our people, the Oracles, unprotected, Serena,” he replied, his voice low through gritting teeth. “This is what the Daughters of Eritopia do to those trying to save Eritopia. They leave them defenseless and surrounded by bloodthirsty abominations. After everything I’ve done, everything we’ve been through. My father gave his life for this…”

  The energy coming from him was so dark and intense, I completely forgot about my own angst at this new development. Draven was taking this a lot harder than the rest of us put together. Even Jovi was at least manifesting his anger by nervously pacing the archive hall and cursing under his breath, while Hansa sat back and looked toward one of the windows, most likely worried about Anjani and their little sisters.

  Draven, on the other hand, was worryingly composed, despite the boiling storm of emotions inside him. I could feel him ready to explode, and I made it my mission to keep him strong and unyielding, with us till the end. I had an inkling of what he was going through, but I’d only been here a few weeks. He’d been at this for decades.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said, though not with as much confidence as I’d hoped. “We’ve made it this far without them, haven’t we?”

  “We had the Daughter!” Draven snapped, and shot up from his chair. “Don’t you see? We’ve been able to do all this because we had the Daughter and the protective shield. Now they’re both gone! Your brother and best friends are out there, hunted for their Oracle abilities—which, by the way, they didn’t ask for. And I made an oath. I promised! I promised you, Serena, that I would keep them safe! That I would keep you all safe. I failed. I failed miserably…”

  His voice broke as he walked over to the window. Jax, Hansa, Jovi, and Zeriel watched him carefully, as did Rebel and Thorn.

  “No, you haven’t!” I stood in response, angered by his rush to label himself a failure. “You can’t control the Daughters! Clearly, they’re just whiny and capricious creatures with way too much power and no common sense. You didn’t fail. They failed. The moment they let their little sister get snatched by Azazel, they failed! Now they’re pointing fingers at us, like we’re to blame. No, Draven. No!”

  He stilled, his eyes settled on the sky.

  “You’ve done some incredible things so far, Draven. Don’t let these spoiled brats make you think otherwise. You kept their sister safe. You protected Oracles. You even united the free people of Eritopia against Azazel, while they stood on the side and moaned and did nothing!” I added. “You have no inkling of how grand your accomplishments really are, or you have a very low opinion of yourself, if you allow the Daughters to bring you to the point where you call yourself a failure.”

  “Also.” Hansa stood up. “While the Oracles and the Daughter were an enticing advantage to fighting by your side, rest assured, Druid, they’re not why I offered my sisters’ and my support. It’s your spirit I’m interested in. You’ve got what it takes to bring that slithering monster down, Draven. You carry your father’s noble character, and you’ve added your own greatness on top of that.”

  “Besides, the Daughters are highly overrated.” Jax smirked from his chair, settled in a relaxed pose, with one leg over the other. “I stopped relying on those emotional thunderstorms a long time ago, my friend. I’m interested in what you bring to the table. They’re obviously only out for themselves and not worthy of Eritopia. We, on the other hand, are the ones on the ground and suffering. We’re the ones who will fight and the only ones who will take it back.”

  “Who needs the Daughters anyway?” Jovi muttered, walking to my side. “Who needs them when we’ve got this fine group of warriors here, led by one of the best Druids I’ve ever met?”

  Silence fell between us for about half a minute before Draven broke it.

  “I’m the only Druid you’ve ever met,” he replied dryly.

  I stifled a chuckle, relieved to feel his rage slowly subside as his gray eyes gradually brightened. Jovi scratched the back of his head, putting on an exhausted grimace.

  “Gah, minor details. Listen, Draven, if it weren’t for you, we’d all most likely be dead by now,” he said. “Aida, Vita, and Phoenix would be withering away in glass bubbles while the whole of Eritopia burned. You’ve brought incubi and succubi together, dude. Do you not realize what an accomplishment that is? Giant Dearghs, Lamias, Tritones, Maras, Bajangs, and all the other creatures out there… They’ve all been waiting for someone like you to bring them into an alliance, to lead them!”

  “No one in this room and no one headed toward Stonewall right now joined you because of the Daughter. And that shield is not the end of the world, either.” Zeriel shrugged. “Perhaps it’s a good thing it’s gone. Why don’t we show the Daughters exactly how useless they are, instead of expecting them to help?”

  “We stopped praying to the Daughters the moment Almus first came to us.” Thorn raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather put my faith in a Druid than in one of those pink-haired disasters, thank you very much.”

  Draven nodded slowly, looking at each of us with slight amusement. His gaze settled on me, softening. I tried to project everything I felt toward him—the determination, the affection, the trust, and the hope that as long as we stayed together, we could overcome anything.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “Thank you all for your trust in me. I cannot begin to explain how energizing your words are. How empowering…”

  “Hey, what are allies good for, if not to hold each other up when darkness falls?” Hansa winked and resumed her seat, sifting through more scrolls. “Now, back to work. The children are on their way, and Azazel will not defeat himself.”

  “Best to find a way to shield your Oracles once they get here,” Rebel interjected. “If Azazel can indeed feel them, let’s not put Stonewall at risk.”

  “Isn’t there anything in these Druid manuals of yours for this kind of thing?” Thorn asked. “I mean, you fellows have been ruling the planets for thousands of years now. Surely you must have some dirty tricks up your sleeves.”

  Draven took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his sand-colored hair. He came back to the table and sat next to me, his knee gently brushing against mine.

  “No, you’re right,” he replied, flipping through the pages of an old, leather-bound spell tome. “We had spells for pretty much everything in the old days. I’m finding it hard to believe not a single Druid has thought of concealing Oracles before. There must be something in here, somewhere…”

  I quietly watched him as he resumed a frantic search for such a spell, skimming page after page with relentless dedication. His desire to protect my brother and best friends was truly overwhelming at times. The thought of it made my heart swell as I resumed my own search for something, anything, regarding the young Druids.

  Our situation was nowhere near improving. It was getting worse in many ways. But like Jovi and the others said, we had each other to rely on, and we were going to do everything we could to pull through. We’d give it everything we had.

  The Daughters had caused nothing but trouble
. Viola and Phoenix were stuck in the middle, bound by love and primordial necessity. They didn’t deserve this.

  In fact, I concluded, the Daughters didn’t deserve Viola. She was too good, too sweet, and far too innocent to be their sister. I hoped we’d find a way to get her back. Not just for her sake, but for Phoenix’s too. I couldn’t even fathom the pain he was dealing with in her absence.

  Vita

  I peeled my eyes open as the sun hit my face. For a moment, I thought I was in my bed, back at the mansion, my body sunk into the soft mattress. But my throat felt sore, as if a thousand needles had been jammed down there, and my temples throbbed.

  One by one, my circumstances crashed back into me, reminding me that I was stuck in a chamber in Azazel’s castle. That I was a prisoner with obsidian cuffs hanging heavily from my wrists. I blinked several times, trying to make sense of my surroundings despite the pulsating headache. It was all there, in smooth and shiny black with gold details and iron bars on the window – the lavish décor of my prison. The cuffs were there, the charcoal crystal cool against my skin.

  I sat up, trying to figure out why I felt so horrible. Then the image of Kyana morphing into a snake and slithering out of her cage in the downstairs dungeons came back to me. Damion had found me there just as I was about to conceal the little golden key that could set my fae abilities free.

  He had choked me.

  He had hit me, and everything had gone dark.

  “That asshole,” I muttered between gritted teeth as I shot out of bed, eager to bang on the door until I saw Damion again so I could give him a piece of my mind.

  Just as I reached for the door, my right leg was jerked back by something hard and cold. I lost my balance and fell flat on my face. Groaning from the pain, I rolled onto my back and sat up to find a heavy black iron shackle linked to the bedframe via an equally large and heavy chain.

  “What the…” I managed to gasp before I realized what was going on. They’d shackled me to the damn bed.

  I was angry. I was fuming.

  The only thing that could comfort me was the knowledge that Bijarki would come for me soon, and we’d both be far away from this wretched place before Azazel could even send his Destroyers to get us.

  I grunted and choked back a couple of bitter tears. It was still horribly inconvenient, and my throbbing head wasn’t helping either. I got up and moved toward the nightstand, where a pitcher of fresh water had been left for me. I gulped half of it down, letting it overflow and pour over my linen dress, cooling me off a little.

  I thought about reaching out to Aida and telling her what had happened, so I sat on the bed, looking to relax myself into a state in which I could connect with her via our private Oracle channel.

  After my second exhalation, the double doors opened with a loud clang. My heart stopped and my blood froze as Azazel walked into my chamber, followed closely by Damion. Hate, fear, and anger made my stomach curl into a tiny ball, and I struggled to keep myself under control.

  Punishment was highly likely, given what I’d done. On the other hand, I really wanted to reach out and dig Damion’s eyes out. My throat still burned, and my skin was tender where his fingers had dug in the night before.

  I held my breath, watching Azazel stop by the foot of my bed, his serpent tail twitching.

  “My dearest Vita,” he said in a somber tone, “are you not looked after here? Are you not treated like a princess? I’ve given you the comfort and assurances you requested. So why, I ask, did you have to go and make such a mess downstairs?”

  “Giving me comfort by keeping me locked in my room? Treating me like a princess by keeping me imprisoned in this hellhole? Really?” I shot back, unyielding.

  I’d thought I’d be paralyzed in his presence, but all I felt was a colossal amount of rage, which was becoming harder to control. I once again thought to myself that it might have something to do with my fire fae abilities being locked in my body. After all, fire can only stay put for so long, and mine yearned to be let out, to consume everything in its path—starting with the two Destroyers standing in front of me.

  “Let’s get something straight here, little miss,” Azazel hissed, clearly out of patience. “I’ve agreed to hold off on the torture and glass sphere experience—you’re welcome, by the way!—in exchange for your cooperation. I’ve received no visions from you, only news that you helped one of the prisoners escape. I should put an end to this right now and resign you to the same fate as Abrille, yet here I am, offering you one last chance to redeem yourself.”

  “Listen, buddy, my visions don’t come whenever I snap my fingers. It doesn’t work like that, and I’ve told you that already. When they come, I’ll let you know,” I replied harshly. “However, if you could get your Destroyers to not strangle me whenever they lose their temper, it would be greatly appreciated.”

  I nodded toward Damion, who somehow shrank in size behind Azazel. Judging by the guilty look on his face, he hadn’t told Azazel about his violent reaction in the dungeons. Azazel looked over his shoulder, then glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

  “I take it Damion here was unnecessarily brutal?”

  “He tried to strangle me! My throat hurts. My head hurts. How do you expect me to receive any visions if I’m being abused like this?” I crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips, my indignation somewhat theatrical but essential in helping me prove my point.

  “Worry not, little Oracle,” he grinned. “Damion will receive his just punishment for his mistake. And we’ll get some visions out of you, too.”

  Damion emerged from behind Azazel with a copper bowl. I craned my neck to get a better look and noticed a multitude of weird and colorful herbs. Their fragrance nearly burned my nostrils—a heavy and pungent smell I’d never experienced before.

  “What are those?” I muttered.

  “Let’s just say they’re a much-needed visual aid,” Azazel replied, and snapped his fingers over the bowl, setting its contents on fire.

  Damion blew over the bowl until the flames died out and a thick purple smoke emerged. He brought the bowl closer to me and waved his hand, sending the smoke my way. Before I realized what was happening, I had breathed it in, and immediately felt the ground beneath my feet disappear, followed swiftly by the bed.

  I fell backward as darkness enveloped me.

  I was consciously losing control of my senses. As I blacked out, all I could think was:

  I’m in so much trouble…

  Vita

  I knew, as soon as the darkness began to dissipate, that I was going into a vision. Whatever those herbs were, they had quite an effect on me. I maintained a conscious state as the image formed in front of me, but it was different from all my previous visions.

  Everything was clear and crisp, loud and incredibly close, as if it were a high-definition picture that I was experiencing in real time. The others had always felt like vivid dreams, but never so intense.

  I stood on Mount Agrith. I recognized the double peak, the pink waters, and the white stone that Phoenix had described when he first saw it. I saw the Daughters of Eritopia on the edge of the water, their bare feet shuffling across the iridescent limestone.

  They wore their regal silk garments and golden masks, jewels covering their slim wrists and fingers. The wind blew softly, brushing through their reddish pink manes as they got closer to the primordial lake. One of them carried the littlest Daughter, wrapped in a red organza fabric. She seemed pale and lifeless, resting her head against her sister’s chest, her fuchsia hair long and loose. It held a different hue than the others, and I figured it had something to do with her premature hatching.

  The last Daughter was with them—she took off her gold mask and tossed it aside. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at the little one.

  The Daughter holding the little one cocked her head to one side as she put her into the pink water, watching as she sank and vanished below.

  “Our little sister will be safer here. Per
haps Eritopia will bring her back someday. Until then, the waters will nurture and heal her. She’s been through enough,” the first Daughter said.

  “She will go back to where she came from. Where we all came from,” another Daughter mused.

  “I have to say, I have never seen this much damage done to a Daughter before,” a third one sighed, her voice heavy with pain.

  “Azazel was vicious. He drained her. Nearly killed her,” the last Daughter muttered, wiping more tears.

  “He got what he deserved,” the first Daughter said. “Justice has prevailed.”

  “No thanks to us!” the last Daughter snapped. “We need to help the others! Draven may have found a way to destroy Azazel, but you all saw the price he paid for it. The darkness he took into him. It’s eating away at him. It’s turning him into the very monster he defeated.”

  “We do not interfere, sister. We cannot,” another replied.

  “Draven sacrificed himself for Eritopia. We should at least put him out of his misery before he kills those he loves. Phoenix is in danger as well. We are still bonded. What if Draven kills him? What if he kills Serena and all those who have put their lives at risk to do our job for us?” the last Daughter cried. “Eritopia was our responsibility. Your responsibility. And you put one of us above it! You punished me for interfering in its natural order and took me away from the only people who actually cared for me!”

  One of the Daughters reached out to touch her, but the last Daughter slapped her hand away and took a few steps back. She looked uncomfortable in her silk covers, tightly wrapped around her body with a golden belt mounted on her narrow waist.

  “No! You know what you did. Or, better yet, didn’t do. You didn’t act! You let Azazel tell you what to do and what not to do. You obeyed a monster, an abomination, as he destroyed this beautiful world that you were sworn to protect. And even now, as Draven loses control and is close to finishing the job for Azazel, you still won’t act! As our sister lies at the bottom of this lake, you still won’t interfere! What will it take for you to do your duty and protect Eritopia?”