Then he was in the thick of battle, colliding with the next vampire at such speed that their impact sounded like a clap of thunder. His teeth sank deep into the jugular of his foe, and a twist of his jaw ripped through the tendons and sinew. The Pale gurgled and clawed, but the prince flung him aside as the third vampire dove past him for Adele.
Gareth propelled himself after his last foe. Adele stood ready, the dim sunlight unable to match the glow of her drawn dagger and her other arm outstretched, aiming with steadfastness at the vampire barreling toward her. Gareth saw the puff of smoke and watched her hand jerk as the pistol fired. With frightful anticipation, the vampire twisted to the side, and Gareth felt rather than saw the bullet tear through the Pale's red tunic and then rip his own coat.
The Pale dropped toward the princess, hissing a terrible screech. His arms reached for her. Adele stepped forward, and there was a brilliant flash as her khukri arced up and over. The vampire screamed as one of his hands fell to the ground. Adele followed the motion of her blade and ducked low as he flew over her. A moment later a second shadow passed over her as Gareth grasped hold of the vampire's shoulders and let momentum draw them up. There the prince made short work of his opponent, snapping his neck and nearly wrenching it from the torso in his rage.
Gareth looked around to see the vampire with the torn throat sprawled on the ground, nearly dead. Adele was running for him with her wide-bladed dagger drawn back to deliver the coup de grace. The first Pale she had shot was trying to escape, so Gareth flew after him. It took only seconds to catch up and dispatch him.
Gareth settled to the ground next to Adele as the blood boiled on her blade. She was breathing heavily; her eyes danced with animalistic exhilaration. With a smooth flourish the dagger was back in its sheath, and she reloaded the pistol before it found its home back in her belt.
"We beat them!" she exclaimed.
He smiled at her. He hadn't dared to hope they would ever fight side by side again. But his smile didn't linger. Behind Adele he spotted more black dots in the sky. Adele gasped when she turned and saw them too.
Cesare, Flay, and more vampires approached. There was no chance to flee now.
Throwing off his tattered frock coat, Gareth prepared to fight the small army.
"What are you doing?" she cried, grabbing his arm. "You can't stop them all!"
"They will not have you!"
"But if you're killed, then what happens to me?"
Gareth hesitated, looking down at her pleading face, her eyes wide with fear and determination. The vampires were almost upon them, and Gareth knew he had no choice. This was the end, his last gambit.
Suddenly, Adele's eyes tightened with determination. Even an insane plan was better than suicide. She threw herself away with a small cry and fled wildly. "I will not be taken by you vampire scum!"
Taken by surprise, Gareth stared after her. To his horror, Flay swooped at Adele and grabbed her.
"No!" screamed Gareth, as he smashed into Flay and drove her into the sodden ground.
Adele rounded on Gareth with a fist and slammed it into his face, forcing the stunned prince back.
"Get away from me, you wretched slime!" She scrambled away from him with her face full of disgust and fear reminiscent of when she first came to Edinburgh.
Bewildered, Gareth stepped toward her with his hand out. But her gaze was only on the shadows coming up behind them. Gareth knew Cesare had arrived.
Adele collapsed at Gareth's boots. "I surrender!" she gasped. "No more!"
Flay angrily gained her feet, dripping mud. She stalked toward Gareth, but Cesare motioned her aside.
Cesare studied his older brother and his human prisoner with astonishment.
Abruptly, Gareth understood. "I have captured the escaped princess."
Cesare stammered, "Why ... ? How did she come to be here?"
Gareth's response was to grab Adele roughly by her upper arm and drag her to her feet. She seemed limp and frightened, but not quite resigned to her fate.
Adele snarled, "It was Greyfriar who rescued me!" She met the gaze of Flay. "Don't you tire of being bested by him?"
Flay raised a clawed hand, which Cesare slapped down. The war chief glared silently at Adele and worked her toothy jaw in anger.
Gareth said to Cesare, "Apparently you cannot keep hold of your prisoner. So she will remain in my possession. I am taking her to Edinburgh."
Cesare snarled at his brother's barb, but then his face twisted into a sneer. "I don't believe that will happen. Our father has decreed the prisoner be returned to London. He will decide what is to be done with her. Surely even you do not have the audacity to disobey our king."
Gareth desperately tried to think of a solution to this matter that wouldn't result in Adele being taken from him. His father's word was law, and to openly disobey it would be fatal.
With a stiffening back, he conceded. "So be it. But before relinquishing my prisoner, I will consult with our father." Through eyes narrowed to slits, he regarded his brother. "Unless you wish to invite a clan war over this affair."
Flay brandished a clawed hand again and surged at Adele. "I have no compunctions about starting one."
Gareth shoved her back, keeping Adele behind him.
"Enough!" Cesare boomed. "For the moment, I'm willing to play your little game." His words were punctuated by a meager bow. "Let us return to your home, by all means."
With a cold stare, Flay followed after her prince as Cesare strode off. Gareth turned toward Adele. He couldn't comfort the fear in her eyes because he knew it was echoed in his own.
CHAPTER
DINBURGH CASTLE WAS filled with vampires.
It made Gareth ill to see it. He had given strict orders to his brother to keep the Pale confined to the wretched airship hovering over the courtyard. A bristling Flay had gone to deliver the message.
"You live like a pauper here." Cesare sneered at Gareth over a goblet of rich thick blood. "You are more foolish than I believed. Here I thought you had the life of a god in this desolate kingdom. Your herds live better than you."
Gareth hid his vehemence with nothing more than a flush of pink on his linen cheeks. "I prefer them to present company."
"You are no more a prince than that ridiculous creature." Cesare waved a hand at a slinking cat.
Gareth forced a cold smile for his brother, drumming long fingers impatiently on the tabletop.
"You know, Gareth, I've been thinking about the princess." Cesare leaned back in his chair.
Gareth's heart skipped, but he didn't miss a beat in his finger patter, and his face remained tired and bored. "Do tell."
"I think her usefulness is at an end. London has already been attacked by the humans." He now smiled at Gareth's raised eyebrow. "Oh yes. Apparently you were away or hiding at the time. The princess's mate dropped out of the sky and slaughtered a few helpless wanderers. Flay drove him away with little trouble."
"She didn't kill him, then?"
"No. He was obviously looking for his female. But she was running loose by then, thanks to that ... that ... man."
"Greyfriar," Gareth offered a bit quickly.
"Yes. Greyfriar." Cesare took another long draft of blood. He swirled the vintage with disapproval. "Bit thin, I think. Still, Greyfriar. Did you encounter him when you found the princess?"
"No. The princess was alone." Gareth laughed derisively. "Perhaps Flay killed him."
"No, she didn't." A bitter look crossed Cesare's face. "She didn't."
"Mm. Well, I never saw him."
"How fortunate that you happened on the princess wandering alone in the wilds."
"Quite."
Cesare straightened. "As I was saying, the war has begun, for all intents and purposes. We have been bloodied, first in Bordeaux and now in London. Obviously the madmen in Alexandria will not hesitate to pursue their war. So their precious princess means nothing to them." He stared at his brother. "Therefore, she now means nothing to me."
"And so?"
"And so she needs to die."
Gareth stopped drumming his fingers and stopped breathing for a moment. Then he recovered his blase countenance. "Interesting logic. Unfortunately, she is my prisoner. So I say what happens to her."
"For now. Once in London, she is the king's property and he can dispose of her as he wishes. I wonder who he'll give her to? You or me?"
Cesare laughed like a wicked child as Gareth stood abruptly and went to the cold fireplace. He could face his brother no more. Traces of ash remained in the hearth from the dinner days ago, the first time it had been used in over a century. It seemed like a century since that exciting evening. Baudoin attracted his prince's eye as the tall servant strode from the room bearing an empty tray.
Gareth followed him out. "What is it?"
"Prince Cesare's pack won't stay on the ship for long. They'll want to prowl soon."
Gareth nodded. "The townsfolk have been warned to remain in their homes. But I'm afraid you are right. Eventually they will be hunted."
"The longer the delay, the greater the risk."
"We should be gone by morning."
"What will you and the princess do?"
Gareth regarded his old friend and saw nothing but sincere concern. A weary shrug was the response. "I'm not sure yet."
"I will stay with the princess tonight to watch her."
Gareth smiled. "Thank you. Though I suspect she may be the safest one of us all. Cesare won't dare harm her here in this place. One thing Cesare still respects is protocol."
"Protocol." Baudoin spat. "I will stay close to her. You may need to help the rest of your subjects, should any of our brethren steal away for a late-night repast."
Gareth chuckled despite the grim situation. Baudoin always had a succinct way of stating the obvious. "Thank you. I don't know what will happen after I return to London. I leave my realm under your care."
Baudoin bowed deeply.
Gareth climbed to the ramparts of his castle. He glared angrily at Cesare's dilapidated airship moored to his home. He thought he saw Flay wandering the deck. The sky was overcast, as was the norm in this land. Dismal and dark. The clouds hung low, almost to the parapets. His home was enshrouded like a cocoon, safe from the outside world.
So it came with some shock that another airship dove out of the clouds, flying the American flag and unleashing a thunderous salvo from its cannons. The ground shook, and vampires scattered. Flay flung herself toward the nearest cover, one shot coming close enough to leave her trailing smoke.
Cables dropped from the sleek frigate like jungle vines, and heavily armed commandos poured forth. The soldiers were out for blood and vengeance; they cut through Flay's disoriented guards. The Pale fell back from the humans' fury.
As the fight on the ramparts raged, Flay left the ship and rushed to Cesare's side. "We are under attack!"
Cesare had heard the booms of cannons, but he still found it hard to credit such unbelievable audacity. Then a terrible thought struck him. "It's Clark! How is that possible? He's come for the princess!"
Let the Butcher have her, Flay thought. The human female had been nothing but trouble from the start. But her lord still deemed the prisoner important to the future of their kind, so the war chief only nodded and they started for Princess Adele's room.
A small squad of human commandos appeared in the way, surprised to encounter the onrushing female. Flay extended her claws in twin arcs and killed them all. Cesare smiled as he waded through the corpses in her wake. The rest of the way was clear. Flay kicked open Adele's door and Cesare stepped in. The room was empty.
"Where is she?" Cesare shouted, incensed that his prey was gone.
Flay stood to the side, her fingers dripping red onto the pristine white fur rug by the fireplace that still glowed warm. "She's gone. Let me go and I'll destroy the Americans."
Cesare heard her but did not respond, lost in thought. Flay grabbed her lord's arm to pull him from the room. "Release me! You dare!"
She snarled, hoping to break through to his fearful reason. "Forget the princess! The human war chief is here. Now! Let me go and I will decapitate the human war machine!"
Cesare muttered, "I can't lose the princess. Then I will look foolish to the clan lords. You must find her, Flay, and we will escape to London. This is no time to worry about the humans."
"This is the perfect time! They are far from home. They have no reinforcements. Let me destroy them! The war will be over now!"
Cesare raised a fist. "Do as I say! Find the princess. Do you think I care about killing humans? I won't have Gareth making a fool out of me!"
Flay bowed her head in defeat and slammed out of the room with a fierce growl.
Prince Gareth and Princess Adele ran along the ramparts. The moment the attack began, Gareth had raced to Adele's room. He knew this castle and all its hidden passageways. It didn't take a tactical genius to realize Cesare would try to secure the princess. As they ran, Adele caught her first glimpse of the sleek American warship that floated over the great castle. Ranger had come for her. From the deck, riflemen and machinegunners poured a murderous fire into the courtyard. The port cannons raked Cesare's ship with a deafening broadside. The high pitch from shriekers sliced through the air, causing Gareth to wince.
His grip on her hand tightened, and he shouted over the pain, "You must escape with Senator Clark. I will keep my brother from pursuing."
"But ... I ..." A concussive blast shuddered through Adele, and thick, oily gas enveloped her. With her ears ringing, she instinctively covered her mouth and nose with the inside of her elbow. Harsh smoke stung her tightly shut eyes.
Something knocked Gareth back against the stones. Through the roiling smoke appeared the indistinct figure of a man wearing a blue uniform with bright buttons. His face was a leathery mask with lifeless round brass eyes. He had a rifle to his shoulder, aimed at the prince.
Adele instantly turned and jumped in front of the rising Gareth. She felt a hard punch to her shoulder that slammed her into Gareth's arms. They tumbled to the ground together. She was lying on her back, staring up, gasping for breath in the purplish smoke. Gareth rose and placed a hand on her. Through the haze, she saw his confused, terrified face staring down at her. She wanted to tell him she was fine, but couldn't speak.
The smoke clung to Gareth like a second skin. He could barely see or smell, and the distant shriekers ripped at his ears. But he was near enough to Adele to scent the blood oozing between his fingers from the wound in her shoulder. He seized her slumping body, sensing her life leaking out over his hands. Amid the chaos, horror gripped him at the realization that he would lose her. After everything they had been through, she could be taken in mere seconds.
A sturdy wind parted the stinking smoke, and now Gareth saw the faceless man. He knew it was Senator Clark, who had shot him and then Adele as she tried to protect him. Gently, Gareth lowered Adele's body to the flagstones. Then in a blur that no human eye could track, the vampire prince charged.
The senator fired point-blank at the grey motion, then felt as if a cannonball struck him. His rifle shattered, still clutched in his hand, as the senator slammed against the stone battlements.
Gareth's sharp talons shredded flesh and cloth; he was desperate to take retribution because nothing else was left for him. A devastating blow brought Clark to his knees, but he swung the smashed rifle barrel, snapping the prince's head to the side. The unfazed vampire spun back, teeth bared. The senator had never seen such an expression on a vampire's face; it was almost emotion and not hunger. For a second Clark knew something akin to fear.
A rigid claw of a hand darted out for Clark's throat. Nails that had turned into razors dug deep into frail human flesh, and Gareth lifted Clark, who writhed in a desperate attempt to dislodge himself.
The prince stepped to the battlements' edge. Far below were dark rocks to dash this murderer's bright blood upon. Gareth wanted to see it. Maybe that would take the pain away f
or a second.
A voice called out-one he had never expected to hear again.
"Ga ... eth ... stop."
He froze in his killing. A glimmer of hope retraced its path to his soul. He turned.
A bleeding Adele reached out toward him as the last tendrils of smoke slipped away from her. "Please ... don't."
Gareth cast the man roughly aside and rushed to Adele's side. He held her once more, burying his head against her cheek.
With his hands Gareth tried to stanch the blood that slowly leaked out. He gently pushed hair from her eyes.
"You mustn't ... hurt him," she murmured.
Gareth couldn't understand what he was hearing. Was it love? Loyalty to her kind? Mere kindness? It didn't matter anymore. The princess was dying. He spared a glance at the crumpled man on the stone path, knowing what had to happen.
"You have to go with him," Gareth whispered to her. "He can save you. "
"Gar ... eth ..." She reached a shaking hand to a face no longer savage and cruel.
"I wish we had more time...." His voice trailed off. He brushed his lips over her cheeks. "I'll never forget you. Promise you'll never forget me."
Gareth stood. Adele tried to cling to him, but he pulled away, and the edge of his coat slipped through her fingers. The prince regarded the miserable Clark with his inhuman false face, sitting up now, holding his bleeding throat. Clark's other hand was fumbling for something at his waist, but he was still too dazed to move with any true coordination.
Gareth drew in a deep breath and addressed the senator. "Take her and leave." He turned around quickly and disappeared into the wrecked heart of the castle.
Senator Clark staggered to his feet. The vampire had had him at his mercy and failed to follow through. Instead, the vermin had returned to feed on the princess. Typical cowardly beast. Straightening, he pulled his pistol from his holster. He debated going after the creature and making it pay, but Adele caught his attention. She was trying to crawl to the castle door, toward what she perceived was shelter. He adjusted the filter on his goggles because Adele appeared in a whitish glow, which was not natural for humans. The mask must have been damaged in the fight.
The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith Page 28
