The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

by Clay; Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

  Gareth scowled, playing the lord annoyed by an underling. "Don't overstep yourself, Flay. Leave it to me. I'll deal with him."

  "Good." Flay smiled with excitement, unfazed by Gareth's rebuke. She enjoyed his show of authority; she expected nothing less from the future king and her master. "But there is something you must do before I can move against Cesare."

  Gareth inclined his head and breathed out sharply through his nose. Here, finally, was her bargain. Various propositions floated through his head-some ridiculous, others vaguely attractive. Would she ask for a lordship? Would she ask to be queen? Would she ask for some profession of love?

  Gareth asked, "What do you want?"

  "The death of Princess Adele."

  "What?"

  "Kill your prisoner. Her presence adds to Cesare's prestige, and the information he believes she has is part of his war plans. Take her out of the equation now. I will kill her if you wish. I'll go now. And once she's gone, you will accuse Cesare of playing with the security of the clan for his own purposes. I will seize him and you will parade before the clan with your brother's blood on your hands. The most savage of the lords will be delighted at such a coming-out. You'll be the belle of the ball."

  As Gareth listened, his thoughts moved from surprise to rage. When she paused with a horrible sly smile on her hard face, he snarled, "Now let me be clear, Flay. If you dare lay a hand on Princess Adele, I will dismember you." The fury of his response surprised even him, but it rushed out before he could stop it. It was pure instinct.

  Flay was taken aback. She lowered her eyes again in supplication. "I meant no disrespect. I merely offered to kill her for your convenience. You may feed off her. Kill her yourself if you wish."

  "Get out!"

  Flay stared in dismay. Her mouth hung open in shock. Her plan had been complete. She was to serve Prince Gareth. They would fight side by side and rule the clan together, just as she had always dreamed. Now he glared at her with hatred and disdain. Could it be because of the Equatorian prisoner? Surely there was just a misunderstanding. She had stepped over some unseen line. She had gone too far too fast, and triggered his natural princely scorn for an upstart commoner.

  She attempted another explanation. "I didn't ... I don't ..."

  Gareth cut her off with a booming, "I told you to get out! Crawl back to Cesare. I'm sure your usual place at his feet is still vacant."

  Flay hardened visibly at his slur. "If I go, Gareth, I will never offer myself to you again."

  He shrugged. "We've always been enemies, Flay. And we always will be."

  Her shock and embarrassment turned to rage. She drew back her lips. "He will never believe you if you tell him I was here."

  Gareth merely looked at her. He had no intention of telling Cesare anything, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that, preferring for her to wallow in confusion and doubt.

  "I hope you die, Gareth!" Flay shrieked. "You're weak and worthless. I hope you die!" She threw herself into the air, rising slowly through the turgid air of the museum until she caught a draft and vanished abruptly through a broken window. The faint echo of her anguished cry could be heard mixing with the bloody screams and cheers across the murderous city.

  CHAPTER

  LAY RETURNED T the museum the next night.

  This time she came to the front door, and she had others with her: five red-jacketed members of Cesare's honor cadre called the Pale because of their role in slaughtering so many of the Irish. Gareth stared at the grim-faced war chief, who refused to look him in the eye.

  "What now, Flay?" Gareth's voice was tired.

  She replied flatly, "Your prisoner is required at the palace."

  "Tell Cesare I think not."

  Flay raised her head, briefly caught his eye, then glanced away. "This is directly from King Dmitri."

  Gareth had no choice but to agree. "Then I'll come along."

  "Do as you wish." She paused, then added, "Great Lord."

  Gareth went back inside, where he found Adele staring enthusiastically at a wall of marble carvings. She turned easily, but quickly noticed the stern look on his face and went grim herself.

  He said, "You must come with me. The king has asked for you at the palace. You will see things no human has ever seen, and lived. Terrible things. In a feeding frenzy, my kind is unpredictable and very dangerous. Do not get isolated. I will protect you so long as you stay near me."

  "I will."

  "You'll be safe."

  "I'm sure. Can I get my cloak?"

  "Of course."

  Adele ran to her room, where she grabbed her heavy cloak. She touched the washabti in her pocket and was grateful that Gareth would be with her in the wretched palace. Clearly, though, he was worried about this summons; it was something out of his control. His promises of safety were weak.

  The Rosetta stone was propped in the corner. Behind it, she had hidden two stone blades. She slipped the knives into her blouse.

  The walk to the palace horrified Adele. Mobs of vampires with their faces and torsos stained red wandered the streets or flitted overhead, feeding on naked and ragged humans with blank cattle faces. Men, women, and children. Sometimes they were chained or hobbled, but usually they stood motionless without restraint or squatted quietly on the cobblestones waiting for their devourers to collect them at their whim. It angered Adele that the humans didn't at least try to run, but she knew they were no longer humans in any real sense; they were bred as food and they acted like food.

  Gareth stayed close, which Adele found comforting. Still, frenzied ruby-faced vampires occasionally surged at her from out of the crowd in hopes of tasting something new. The Pale shoved interlopers back with annoyed rebukes, although Flay trudged on without apparent interest. Gareth, however, was not so lenient. He seized several vampires who reached for Adele and put a quick and savage end to their evening festivities. Soon the black-suited prince was as bloody as the sodden revelers, and the growls that came out of him reminded Adele of a trapped, vicious dog. Even so, she found herself pressing closer against him as the air grew thicker with shrieks of pain and delight with every step.

  Soon the old Buckingham Palace loomed in the darkness. They made their way up stained steps, past columns of veined marble, and into a great corridor once bright and lavish with intense colors and golden fixtures but now drab and caked in filth. Ragged remnants of carpet clung to the floor of the wide gallery. The palace's decrepit decorations were overwhelmed by piles of bone and hundreds of skulls staring down from broken chandeliers. Vampires slouched along the walls, drunk with blood, sometimes with red hands resting on humans who still showed signs of life.

  The princess and her escorts passed out of the main gallery and through a series of smaller rooms crowded with vampires not yet drunk and bloodmen quickly herding humans from one place to another. They all cleared the way for Flay and her red-coated entourage. Heads turned as the Pale passed, and hundreds of curious blue eyes locked on Princess Adele. In a small grim room, a tall vampire wearing an odd checkered jacket and striped trousers met them and conferred with Flay.

  Gareth leaned down to Adele. "That's Cesare's bailiff, Stryon. It's rare to see him outside of Dublin."

  When Stryon concluded his discussion with Flay, he bowed to Gareth. "My lord, won't you join His Majesty and Prince Cesare?"

  Gareth received the homage with a bare nod. "I'll wait here with my prisoner."

  "Very good." The bailiff's eyes flicked between Gareth and Adele without emotion before he withdrew.

  "We wait until we're summoned," Flay said wearily. Then her gaze settled on Adele, and she studied the princess with a severe curiosity.

  Several of the Pale began to chat in low hisses, wondering if the royals were going to share the princess with the lords of the clan. Flay didn't bother to quiet her troopers, and in fact an impertinent smile twitched at the corners of her full mouth.

  None of them realized that Adele understood what they were saying. She
managed to keep her face calm while their chatter became bloodier as the soldiers waxed on about how delicious she might be. Behind the folds of her cloak, Adele plunged one hand into the deep pocket of her heavy skirt, feeling for the hard, smooth washabti. She found a sense of serenity as her fingers slid over the supple facets of the small figurine. Gareth glanced at the young woman and shifted his feet subtly, as if to put a few more inches between them. Flay's eyes narrowed and dropped to Adele's skirt, as if the vampire sensed something peculiar.

  Abruptly, Stryon the bailiff summoned them with a long crooked finger. Flay stood aside with a look of disgust as Gareth motioned to Adele. The bailiff led Gareth and Adele to massive double doors where he paused to listen. Raucous but muffled sounds drifted from the room beyond, led by Cesare's rabble-rousing hiss and complemented by guttural responses from a sizable crowd. He was listing the many triumphs of the clans over the humans, extolling the strengths of vampires versus the weaknesses of humans. He exhorted the clan to greater victories in the future in the face of growing threats from the grasping humans. The lords cheered at the appropriate times.

  Cesare's topic changed to Equatoria and the growing threat of an alliance between two ambitious human states. He explained that the leader of this evil alliance had already massacred the clan of Bordeaux. But Cesare had succeeded in scoring a significant victory; he had seized the mate of the Butcher of Bordeaux.

  At this, Stryon motioned Gareth forward, threw back the doors, and stood aside. Gareth paused, hoping to score a minor victory of his own by throwing his brother's stage show off its timing. He was amused by the thought of Cesare standing before the throne with his arm extended toward the empty doorway, watching and fuming impotently as no Equatorian captive was dragged screaming into the throne room. Stryon touched the prince's elbow and pressed him forward with a look of alarm. Gareth freed himself and glared back as if ready to rip the bailiff's arm out of the socket for his temerity.

  Gareth whispered to Adele, "Stay near me. Don't be afraid." Then he added after a moment's thought, "And don't do anything to antagonize them."

  The Prince of Scotland swept into the vast chamber, his heels clicking loudly in the expectant silence. The waiting lords stared, surprised first by the delay and now by seeing Gareth when they expected the delightfully demeaning spectacle of a free human royal in chains. Then followed the human woman, but she was unbound, with her head up, staring back at them in disdain. The vampire lords parted reluc tantly for Gareth. They hovered around Adele with wild eyes and wet grins, but none reached out to molest her. Adele was reminded of a hideous version of her father's Privy Council lurking through a state event at Victoria Palace in Alexandria.

  The throne room was very large and had once been lavish enough to befit the greatest ruling family in Europe, as it still did. Cesare stood on a raised platform at the far end of the room with an arch above and columns on either side. An ancient rag doll that Adele took to be the fabled King Dmitri slumped in a chair behind the vile prince. Gareth mounted the royal dais, and Adele followed.

  Cesare extended his hand toward the princess and spit in his vampire tongue, "Here is our enemy! This is the future mate of the one called Clark, who slew so many of the American clans and our kin just days ago in Bordeaux."

  The lords began to rumble with outrage.

  "But I," Cesare continued, "have her now!" He laughed, and the lords laughed with him. "I took her because she came with her army into clan lands. I believed we could negotiate a peaceful settlement with the human warlords. I believed the humans would care for their own enough to talk to us. But I admit now that I was wrong. Ask the dead in Bordeaux about peace! Ask the children who were slaughtered by the human fires about peace! There can be no peace with the human warlords. They do not understand the concept."

  Unabashed hatred grew in the chamber as a tall grey-haired lord shoved to the front of the crowd. He dragged a filthy young human woman by the hair as any partygoer might circulate with his wineglass in hand. The woman slapped at his strong forearm, forcing the clan lord to frown with distracted annoyance and shake the woman as someone might a misbehaving puppy.

  "So what now?" this old lord boomed. "What would you have us do, Cesare?"

  "Lord Ghast," the young vampire prince muttered at the elder with unconcealed contempt, "what would you expect us to do? We must fight! We must strike now before we are taken unaware! Would you have our herds taken from us?"

  Ghast snarled. "Don't try to demonize me, Cesare! My history of killing is well told! I welcome war with the humans!" He searched the room with fierce eyes. "But I won't have your upstart as clan war chief! Flay is not noble. I demand the role." There was a murmur of agreement among some of the lords.

  Cesare raised a calming hand and gave a cynical grin. "One thing at a time, please, Lord Ghast. Can we begin the war before you begin demanding your position? The king will name the war chief. Not you."

  Lord Ghast growled and reached for the woman he dragged. It was only then that Adele realized the captive woman had a small baby clutched close to her body. The vampire seized the child. A wave of sickness overcame the princess, instantly replaced by righteous murderous rage.

  Adele reached into her blouse and took a stone knife, while her other hand unconsciously grasped the washabti from her pocket. She leapt from the dais with a shout. Lord Ghast stared at her uncomprehendingly, with the woman in one hand and the baby in the other. The princess felt heat surge through her body. Ghast started to shout, but his throat was already cut. Adele spun, and drove the blade up through his chin into his brain, then grabbed the baby before it dropped to the floor.

  The room went silent. The bloody mob stared at Adele cradling the baby as Lord Ghast's body collapsed to the floor. She looked down at the child and saw that it was dead already, and probably had been for days. The mother, driven to insanity by her lot in life, could not understand. The wretched woman pleaded for the tiny cadaver, and Adele placed it in her hands.

  Adele was pulled back with tremendous force. Gareth quickly released her and held his hand as if injured, staring at her with shock and anger. His eyes locked on the washabti in her left hand. Growling, he smashed it out of her grasp. The little figurine shattered against the tile floor.

  "What are you doing?" he snapped. "Are you insane? Attacking a clan lord?"

  "I thought he was going to-"

  "Keep quiet! We'll be lucky to get out of here alive."

  The dense silence was pierced by singular laughter.

  Both Adele and Gareth turned to see Cesare doubled over with uncontrolled hilarity. This incredible tableau left the already surprised lords exchanging glances of confusion. Gareth placed himself between his brother and Adele as Cesare turned to face them.

  "Well," Cesare said quietly with a broad grin, "that couldn't have worked out better if I'd planned it. Poor Ghast. Killed going for a snack."

  The doors burst open, and Flay stormed into the chamber. Behind her stood a small male vampire, looking quite frail. The lords all turned to see what new surprise lay in store.

  Cesare was not pleased by the look he saw on Flay's face.

  "My lord," Flay shouted as she shoved through the clan lords, nearly dragging the vampire behind her. She approached the dais and pushed her baggage to the foot of the steps.

  The little vampire trembled from the collected greatness around him. Flay prompted his recovery with a stern blow to the back, causing him to stammer, "I ... have news, my lord. Humans."

  Cesare folded his arms and waited in cold anticipation. Gareth eyed Flay, wondering what game she was playing. Her face seemed quite intense and involved in the moment; there was no furtive scheming behind her eyes. She seemed almost breathless for the small visitor to speak.

  Cesare did not prompt him, so the stranger glanced at Flay for approval and then continued. "We are under attack."

  The room broke into an uproar. A thought of escape flashed through Adele's mind. She could take advantage of
the confusion and slip away. She shifted her weight to move and immediately felt a vise on her arm. Gareth glared down at her. He seemed to sense her thoughts, and his mirthless stare was enough to make her still.

  Cesare held up a hand for silence, which was partially granted, and demanded of the newcomer, "What are you blathering about?"

  "I was near the water this early morning. The ocean." He pointed southward. "I was with my brother. We saw an airship. A warship. Flying north. We watched and then started to go, but one of the humans climbed into the rigging of the ship. He had a gun. And he killed my brother." The vampire put a finger to his forehead. "A hole here. I fled." He pulled his threadbare shirt up and turned to reveal a jagged hole in his back. "He shot me too, but I escaped."

  The appearance of the occasional human warship over the southern sea was not unheard-of, although it was unusual. Typically it meant they were off course. No captain would wish to stray so close to a vampire stronghold. Still, Cesare knew he had to appear as if this was momentous news.

  So he announced, "No doubt it is a scout ship for a coming invasion. Or perhaps it is the beginning of the invasion itself. The Equatorians-"

  Flay interrupted, "Not Equatorians, my lord."

  Cesare intoned frostily, "No?"

  "No. The ship's flag was American."

  Adele gasped with sudden elation and exchanged a startled glance with Gareth. The vampire prince's expression was unreadable, but she sensed that he was once again jockeying for a new strategy.

  Flay pointed a clawed finger up at Adele. "It is her mate. Clark. He is coming for her."

  The clan lords began to rumble again with dismay and confusion.

  The war chief continued in a lower voice to Cesare, "Kill her, my lord. You must kill her now."

  Cesare drew Flay close. "Take Princess Adele back to the Tower. Keep her alive. Do you hear me? Keep her alive."

  "But this is the Butcher of Bordeaux coming to-"

  "I said take her back. Now! You do it yourself. And if she's hurt, you will answer for it! Then dispatch my packs around the city. If the American dares set foot here, I want him dead no matter how many it costs you."