I would not be had the better of.
Then?
I fought. I fought my way to the top of the ship until I was off.
Near the port of Calais, I began swimming. Ten hours I swam, perhaps even more.
But not long after I was near ready to go give up, the white cliffs of Dover were out ahead. I succeeded and escaped a fate too cruel to mention.
I returned to my mother's grave. To my surprise, the Black Prince waited there for me. He knelt down beside the grave. A single flower placed over it.
~ ~ ~
“How did you know I would come here? How did you know she was here?” I ask. I hear my own words. They come out harsh. Angry. What more could he expect, I assume.
"Because of our heritage, my son, is far different than you may be willing to accept. I have kept you in the dark for the simple reason that I did not believe. You were sentenced to a battle, alone, without your brothers at arms and without arguing you joined the warring party to bring the crown a victory," He looks up at me.
“And where do you come to first? Not to stake a claim, not to cause a fight with the prince, you come and visit your mother. An admirable quality I wish I was taught in my youth. You are ready now. Return to my castle and we will discuss this further.”
Then, for the first time since the day he did whatever he had, I see another glimpse of (what I can only assume is) magic. The Black Prince stands with his eyes closed and hands together. For a moment nothing until suddenly his eyes shine a bright blue, his mouth opens as if he's screaming and then there is nothing.
No sign that he was here.
After accepting my fate, I knew that there were things out there that I would not be able to explain but the deeper I seem to fall, the more horrifying it all seems to become. This prince, the one who claims to be my father, has these peculiar abilities and I wish to take his life as payment for my mothers?
This task grows increasingly more troublesome, it seems.
I sit beside my mother's grave.
"I miss you," My hand resting on the ground where she is resting. There is no rush for me. I stay seated beside my mother in silence. It's so quiet that I can nearly swear that I hear her speak.
I shake my head. Whatever is going on here is merely an illusion.
There are no God's among men...
~ ~ ~
The journey from Pontnewynydd to the Berkhamsted Castle in Hertfordshire took me a week. One of the faster times it took me to make the journey. I came alone, knowing that my wife would already be here. Our own hold not far from here. It's good to be close to the Prince you follow, in the case of an emergency I have learned. Though, coming here I know one thing. Things are going to change now. Whatever I learn from The Black Prince will be life altering at best, life-shattering at worst.
So I enter. One of the castle servants takes me to the quarters where the Prince will find me in his due time. So I wait.
“I am sorry to inform you, sir, that your wife is not here,” This sets my mind at ease. I cannot have my family come in danger.
“That is fine,” He bows and I return the gesture.
I don't wait long in the small room before I hear the door creak open. To my surprise it is not the Black Prince, rather his nuisance son, clapping his hands, leaning against the door frame. His child like features grinning with glee as he steps inside. We've never gotten on, him and I. Where I gained favor from my grand exploits, he only attained his standing in the realm from being the Prince's son.
His cheeks soft, pink, his hair long and neatly kept, truly a child in every sense of the word.
“So you are my father's new pet?” Even his voice is soft and unbroken.
“Pet?” I laugh, “You sent me to my death and failed. Do not show your jealousy, Richard,” I don't step away from the window where I stand. I continue to look out of it. A single swooshing sound and he begins walking nearer to me. I lazily look between him and the beautiful night sky.
“Jealousy? Of a peasant and his whore wife?” This raises my ire but I say nothing.
A sudden swooshing sound, all too familiar and I turn. Wide eyed, I know that if I do not act quickly, this is the end but when I come around, it is too late. The cape he wears, covering one arm billows behind him, a dagger is gripped firmly in his hands. When I am facing him, the weapon is so close to my chest that there is no time to stop it.
No time.
I feel the tip of the blade pierce the fabric of my clothing, it's icy sting piercing my chest. Next will be the heart.
Then everything stops.
The blade stops on its course. Richard sick expression of twisted glee, frozen on his face and the second that follows feels like a peculiar eternity that is unending. Is this what death is? I wonder but realize I still have full function of my body. Grabbing Richard's wrist with one hand and his elbow with the other, I force them in opposite directions. His bone snaps like a twig, with time returning to us as normal. A small scrape begins to bleed from where the blade nicked me. Richard begins to scream. I take his hand in my own so that the dagger does not fall. I force it back into his chest. The screaming stops.
“What have you done?” I turn to the door where the Black Prince has made his entry.
“He was attempting to take my life. I returned the gesture,” I reply.
“That's not what I mean. You froze time,” He says. I sense true fear in his voice.
“What?” I cock my brow at him.
“This is why I brought you here, son. In successfully passing my test those many years ago, you were given the abilities, I hope, to manipulate time in the same ways I can. Where I go to and fro, you can stop it?” Not even upset about his son's death.
“But this action has consequences. This seemingly simple kill will cause a ripple through time. And much like the actions that have consequences, the consequence can too, have actions,” He states, slamming the door behind him.
“I am going to teach you all I can, Victor, but in order to do so, we must leave, now. There is no more life for us here," His last words to me, before pushing open the wooden covering of the window and stepping out.
He gestures I follow.
“You are destined for far greater things than being a knight. We travel now to Spain,” I follow, even though I do not understand:
“And with my help, you will become a God.”
A New Dawn Preview
The Vampire Touch 3
Sarah J. Stone & Ryan Boucher
Chapter One: Daffyd
It was a simple trap.
Abraham Van Helsing stood no chance against my scheme. I had been informed of his repeater crossbow by one of the negligently escaped victims from one of his raids. A weapon that stopped my master and one that I would not fall victim to.
As planned, he came through the door alone. It was here that I rested on a step, waiting for him. How arrogance could be so predominant in one man I could not understand.
A victim of pride without knowing.
We shared words. They went along the lines of how he dreamed of the day to find the veil. My own was only to inform him that the others he brought to survey the area and wipe the others they could find from existence would not be found.
It was him and me.
A single handed, repeater crossbow. A beautiful marvel of engineering. Firing one shot, pulling on a lever to make the firing string taught and a barrel below that could house numerous bolts.
Had I not been aware, I may have found this weapon quite the challenge.
One by one, he fired.
One by one, he missed.
Each one precisely where my heart was a second before. Had I been any slower, I would have been dead. Then I was upon him. My hand through his chest, gripping his heart, allowing him a few more seconds of life as I pumped the blood through his veins.
And then I crushed it.
This brought no contest when I stood to claim the crown. The Council declared me instant victor, sentencing my
opponents to their fates: death.
***
Reading through my old notes, the wide swinging doors from the end of my throne room distract me. Mason walks in, with Hamish at his tail, blabbering about how I would not want to see him today. How wrong he was.
“Hamish, you can relax,” I gesture him off with a flourishing wrist. “Mason is here on important business.”
And if Hamish paid closer attention to the heads in Mason’s hand, he would notice that they were the all too familiar heads of the Council. He says nothing, throwing the heads at my feet. This is where, in a past life, I would have Hamish bring him his payment. Now, things seem to be changed around.
“I do believe Brooke has your payment?” I’m uncertain of the details revolving around the payment for the Council, but I don’t care too much for it either. This simple gesture puts me at the top of the pyramid from now until the new Council is enlisted, and even then, they are my own men and women, hand-selected to be the puppets I want them to be.
“Yes,” Mason replies, “I will take those matters up with her as soon it’s necessary. Tell me, Daffyd, what do you have in store for this world?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “World peace, curing world hunger, you know…the altruist’s handbook.”
Mason knows I’m lying. I can see it in those cold, red eyes. Still, he nods in agreement. “Then so be it. A better world for all.”
“Yes. A better world for all, but some get it a little better than others, right?”
“Yes. It seems so. There’s always got to be one of us at the top.”
His arrogance outweighs my own, but I can never tell if he’s being serious or just trying to rile me up. I shrug it off.
“You’ve done a good thing here, Mason,” I give him the credit he deserves.
“Have I?” he questions. Then, silence. A comfortable silence. Something unknown to us. “What are you reading there, Daffyd?”
His question takes me by surprise. Mason has always been the kind to either know precisely what is going on or the kind not to care enough.
“I’m reading the notes I wrote years ago. You remember? The days of the Shredder? Mattheus and the establishment of a vampire hierarchy that only found its founder’s death.”
“Must be an interesting read,” he says. Neither of us can recall those early days, I suppose. My own memories extend to around the mid eighteen-hundreds. Everything before that has been erased from memory. That is why, as I read over these notes, I wonder why it changed. Who did I become? A man that gave up on his master’s rules to become his own master. A master of nothing. An empire of nothingness. I call the shots but I do not rule those who are beneath me. They fear me. Mason seeks nothing but payment. This is not how a king should lead.
“It is. I have just gotten to my induction to the crown. Did you know, once long before you ever entered my world, I killed Abraham Van Helsing?” I wonder how he would react to the comment. Again, I find myself thinking about how the drive and courage to slaughter Van Helsing himself was reduced so much to handing over every simple task to an Ancient Vampire. Or an underling. When... How did I become so lazy that I would drop my own self-respects to be just another useless monarch?
“I did not, but who can remember those days anyway?” A sly comment. These were my own thoughts exactly. Those days are long behind us.
“Agreed.” Something about Mason is perplexing. He is not the same as he always is. Perhaps he has changed in his absence. Seeking a new home. There’s always a place for him here, so long as he bows down to the crown.
“Did you ever write any of your own life stories down?” I put my writing back into a pile and give my full attention to him. I do believe that if he ever did write down his life story, it would be tragically fascinating. A tale of the ages.
“No.” I can’t help but admit I am disappointed in his answer. “I have other ways of remembering.”
Chapter Two: Brooke
“Are you truly going to dump Torrine Castle on the wolves just because someone you don’t know sent a letter? Don’t you think that’s a bit foolish, Daffy?” I know he hates that nickname. Ever since our early years of courtship, when I first gave it to him, but he bared with it for all these years, so why not just keep it going?
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replies, paging through his old notes. He’s been reading them a great deal lately. I wonder why…
“Well then, try and explain it to me. You’ve lost nothing but a few tunnels,” I put down my own book and look over at him. We are in bed. The same bed we share daily. No matter what happens between us, there has always been some spark. It may not always show itself, but I knew it. I can’t say I love him any longer. No, that ship has sailed, but that doesn’t mean that there was never anything there.
Once upon a time...
“They have the castle already. We have no daytime troops. We don’t have the witches’ spells protecting us anymore. The problem is not Torrine Castle. It’s the day trade that has been stripped from us. If we build, they will break. Whoever’s sending these letters has got us by the balls.” He places his notes on the bedside table.
“How does he have us? He’s taken out one route that linked us. That’s where the problem lies. Our tunnels should not branch to one and then to three. They should go from here to dead ends and nonsensical places. The ones they destroy have a chance of being our true trade, but how will they know which are the ones we move on and which ones are pointless?” He contemplates my words. His mind is racing.
“Then what do you propose?” There have been times in the past where Daffyd would ask my opinion. They were done so seldom that I let go of any thoughts that it would become a standard between us. Not that I don’t have a strong voice among the vampire people – no, not that – but because he always kept his world secretive. It is the way he is, claiming that there is no need for me to worry myself over these matters, but again, I am his queen. I must know the dealings of my king. This is where the rift between us grew.
I was never good enough to be a part of the decisions, and he became too serious. Not the young, dapper king I met all those years before with the stars in his eyes and a vision of a better future.
Sad how time changes us.
“I propose you send them their letter. A letter telling them precisely what you think of them. We have killed the Council. You are going to be the true high king of the vampires. There will be nothing stopping you in your endeavors and takeovers. Do not let yourself seem weak by dropping Torrine…” I sit up in my bed, pulling myself closer to him. “Show them that you are fearless and they will have no sway over the king of vampires,” I take his right hand in mine and squeeze it tightly.
His eyes glow with the promise of these words. And how promising they are.
“Then I will tell Hamish, and we will cancel this treaty. The wolves will bow to our kind sooner than they expect.” Yes. This is precisely what I want. The thrill of him becoming the man he used to be.
Maybe then I will feel bad when I have him sentenced to whatever Mason has planned…
“And what about your deal with Mason? Has payment been made?” As if he could hear my thoughts, he asks this question. A simple question, sure, but one that has been built and dedicated on a mountain of lies.
“Yes. He has been compensated well for his task,” I reply.
“And what exactly was it that he wanted?” The foulest intentions lace this question. I know what Daffyd is thinking. Payment in sex. Defiling the queen. Something, I assume, he would consider.
I laugh.
“I am a woman of a higher standing, and he is a gentleman. You can set your mind at ease on any of those notions.” I fall back to my side of the bed, shaking and bouncing as the springs squeak beneath me.
Just like Daffyd to ruin the moment.
Chapter Three: Drakka
“Che Hernandez as I live and breathe. What brings El Flamenco to my neck of the woods?” I know precisely why he
is here, but I need to keep up appearances. To the bar goers, this man is a noteworthy assassin among our kind. To my understanding, he was a close colleague of Verona – the shifter whose death brought me my exuberant empire.
“I’m looking for work, man.” He was briefed on how to react when he entered. By far an eccentric man, wearing white chinos, brown shoes, a white button-up, short sleeve shirt which can’t be less than two sizes too big, all brought together with a beige fedora to match the peculiar ensemble.
“You look like you’ve strolled in from Miami beach,” I tease, placing a glass full of milk stout on top of a sheet of paper holding his instructions. I use it as a coaster. He sips, slipping the paper off the table and into his pocket. “Sadly, I don’t have any work for you, my friend.” The long sip continues until it is finished. He places the glass down and stands up. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulls out a few dollars. Enough for the drink with a generous tip.
“Then that is all, cabron.” He spits, walking to the door. Business continues as usual from here. Not that his entrance made it slow too much, but with a reputation as dark as his, not many would be willing to make a move that would be considered stepping out of line.
As mentioned, it is a high-value target.
Mason, the ancient vampire.
A dock worker has a dagger.
From what my spies have found on it, this single dagger was created to kill the ancient vampires.
Research has been extensively done.
Find the dock worker in the Elephant Bar.
He will be there tonight.
You will receive the discussed amulet once it is done.
Come to my home when you are done.
Good Luck.
Flamingo
*** End of Preview ***
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Sarah J. Stone
Book 1: The Missing Queen
Chapter 1
The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown Page 14
