Talon

by Alice Wade

  Kaen flagged the servant and pointed to the sack. “Remove that.” He turned back to Igor. “So, you never crossed the wards. You were never inside?” He moved into a deadly state of eerie calm. His voice was soft and controlled, his body language suddenly relaxed. This was Kaen at his most deadly and those in the room knew it.

  Igor trembled uncontrollably, showing his distrust of Kaen unpredictability. He knew his life was forfeit. “No.”

  “What are you waiting for then? Go.” His black eyes said it all and he wasn’t about to be ignored.

  “But sir? I don’t have the disc.” Igor whined.

  That earned another deep growl by Kaen before he smoothly walked into his office, jerking open a drawer and removed the second disc—the mirror to the first one. After returning to the main room, he tossed the object to Igor and stood quietly, “There. Now go.”

  The blood drained from Igor’s face, “Sir, what if Talon has returned?”

  “That’s obvious, Igor. Figure it out. I want Lainey and you know how to get her. Go.”

  Deandra watched this carefully. She knew what this order meant—it was a death sentence. Igor wouldn’t live long enough to step foot inside that building, for if what she’d learned of this elf were true, Igor, he didn’t stand a chance. However, if he wasn’t there, he might just have a shot at recovering Lainey and getting back across the wards alive. It was a slim chance, but the odds required the absence of Talon.

  Kaen remained eerily calm and he walked towards the windows, looking down at the city below. “Damn Warwick,” he said so softly Deandra almost missed it.

  “Darling.” She slowly approached, cautious in case he attacked her. “I’m sorry. I know how close you two were.” She took another step closer. “Are you all right?”

  He turned only his bald head in her direction, his scarred cheek pulled into a grimace. “No, I’m not all right. That bastard just threw a stick in my plans, dearest.” He said sarcastically, “I’m irate.”

  “Fair enough.” She was close now, close enough to touch his shoulder but stayed her hand because she felt the anger practically vibrating off his skin. “What can I do?”

  “Kill your brother, dearest. I want that little problem out of the way so I can focus on this new complication. Can you please do that for me?” he asked sweetly, as if this were some mundane little chore he requested.

  A truly sinister smile broke out on her face. This suggestion would please her as much as Kaen. “Absolutely. I never thought you’d ask.”

  Kaen laughed at her eager response, thoroughly amused by her answer. His anger melted a fraction and he was reminded what a wicked little creature Deandra really was. His laugh continued to fill the room for a few more moments before he sobered and met her cold blue eyes, “I’ll have him brought to the dungeon, dear. You can come up with whatever method you think appropriate. Use as many of my men as you like, but you must leave the body in a state that I can claim an accident.”

  “I can do that.” She smiled sweetly, “Would you like to watch?”

  Again he laughed and collected her into his embrace. Strangely comforted by her presence, “You are unbelievable, Deandra. Were you always this cruel?”

  “Yes. I used to pull the wings off flies as a child. Ondre was the kind one, not me.” She chuckled. “Now, let me go so I can make you happy. I would very much like to enjoy your better mood later.” She winked, “Deal?”

  “Deal.” He kissed the top of her head and released her. “Include Faelwen. He will be able to help and he would enjoy tormenting the bastard.”

  “Excellent,” she whispered over her shoulder as she walked away from him, but at the door she paused, “Kaen, it will all work out. You are just as strategic as Warwick, so all will be corrected. Have faith.” Then she was gone.

  He was shocked. Deandra completely confused him and he was assaulted with a host of emotions that he wasn’t prepared to face. Watching her departing back, he felt a sense of detached confusion. The most dominant emotion that he felt was respect; the other was love. Kaen scrubbed both hands over his bald head before he gripped his skull in both hands in frustration. He could feel the outlines of this tattoo under his fingers and traced them absently while he tried to figure out what the hell was happening to him. He was supposed to detest the princess and kill her quickly after the crowning!

  Suddenly that idea seemed foul and the most erroneous course of action. Deandra was evolving into quite the perfect match, so much so that it scared him to admit that he liked her company. Not to mention, he found her evil side to be extremely erotic. No, Deandra was earning her keep and proving her worth to remain at his side.

  Kaen breathed heavily, drawing in deep breaths before he turned back to the window. Deandra was here to stay and off to make him happy. That left him plenty of time to solve the problem of Lainey. He knew he’d sent Igor to his death earlier, but still fumed at Warwick’s stupidity. Now he was faced with a second attempt that most likely would end in another failure and he was in no mood to accept that.

  “Your Highness?” a servant interrupted. “There is a Faelwen here to see you, sir?”

  Kaen turned and leveled the servant with a stare that was unnerving to say the least. He continued to be locked deep in his own thoughts and barely heard what had been said. He remained that way, staring blankly.

  “Sir? Faelwen is here to see you? Should I send him away?”

  Kaen cleared his throat, “No, bring him in immediately.” He waved his hand and returned to his evaluation outside. When he heard and sensed this new body in the room, he said without turning around, “Warwick is dead.”

  His dark skinned friend bowed his head, “I heard this news from Deandra. I came straight here, sir. What are your orders?”

  “Assist my lovely wife in whatever she may need. She has a desire to please me, so is off to kill her brother. Help her, Faelwen.” Kaen still hadn’t turned around, choosing to let that order sink in. He knew Faelwen would be excited by this new development, but let the silence drag on until he’d had enough. He finally turned his head, catching his friend’s eye, “Help her make me happy.”

  Faelwen dipped his head, barely masking his anticipation, “Immediately, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Kaen whispered more to himself while he once more turned his focus to the outside world. “Now go.”

  Faelwen pivoted on his heel and left in search of the princess. He stalked through the castle, scattering the servants as he traversed the halls confident in his direction. He knew where she would be and went straight to the dungeon and found her waiting. Knowing also that Ondre needed to be transported here from where they held him, Faelwen grabbed the first youngling he could reach. “Bring the king here,” he ordered. He then turned to the princess, smiling. “Would you like refreshments while we wait?”

  Deandra uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, fixing Faelwen with a stare that was nothing short of excited. “How very kind of you to ask,” she replied smoothly.

  Faelwen inhaled deeply and smelled the scent he’d come to know as hers. It was clean and it wafted through his senses eliciting a host of responses. One was hunger and the other was arousal. Now was not the time to deal with either, so Faelwen exhaled slowly in regret.

  “Princess, Kaen has informed me I’m to assist in any way.”

  “You’ve already begun by bringing me Ondre,” she replied.

  He felt the approaching servant and saw his chance to quiet his arousal, “Excuse me, princess,” he said again before he spun on his heels to intercept the servant. She was just about to the door when it flew open, scaring her so badly she nearly dropped the tray. Faelwen took that off her hands, saying, “Allow me.”

  The young woman bestowed him such a look of gratitude before she practically tossed the tray into his outstretched hands. “Aye, thank you.” Feeling the
weight of the tray lift, she turned and fled from the dungeons hallway as quickly as her feet could carry her.

  Faelwen watched after her with a half smile for a moment before he turned and entered, carrying the tray. “Here we are, princess. Now we wait for your brother to arrive.”

  Deandra looked up smiled, “Wonderful.”

  * * * *

  Ondre awoke with a groan, feeling pain shooting down his arms as they tingled from their lack of blood. Shifting so he could adjust his numb arm and he froze. Where was he? He’d been on his way to marry Marigail, but found her cottage deserted. He’d been riding back when his horse was spooked, throwing him. Ondre battled with the fuzzy recollection before recalling that someone had suddenly appeared. He struggled to remember, and the pain in his head confirmed he’d obviously been struck, knocking him out. That would explain why he couldn’t remember anything until he woke up here. But where was here exactly?

  Ondre sat up gripping his head and squinted. He tried to look around the room but it was dark and there was a damp chill that reached his bones. The room was endless with dark stone walls, no furniture…no, no, no, he quickly chanted in dread. Ondre felt bile rise to his mouth when he realized exactly where he was—his own dungeon. Since the destruction of the original section, he’d moved all their activity to another section on the other side of the castle. The room he sat in was Kaen’s favorite, mostly because it was large and cavernous with different entrances so he could come and go as he pleased.

  The sound of shuffling feet caught his attention to his right. The pain in his head prevented him from turning too quickly, but he was successful in facing that direction to see his sister emerge from the darkness.

  “Deandra?” he asked, his confusion turning to fear when he caught her appearance.

  “Hello Ondre.” She halted about twenty paces from him and stood curiously with her head slanted to the side. “Hope you were not treated too poorly?”

  “What is the meaning of this? I demand to be released immediately.” He watched her smirking reaction and his fear increased.

  “Oh, I think not.” She strolled closer, “Kaen and I have other things in mind.”

  His blood cooled to near freezing at the excitement he heard in her voice. “Deandra, I demand an explanation!” he bellowed. He swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the table he had been lying on.

  “You demand nothing from me, Ondre. You’ve spent your entire life making my life a living hell. I demand a few things of my own and that mostly involves you screaming.” She smiled coldly, “Shall we begin?”

  A handful of vampires cloaked in robes materialized out of the shadow, forming a ring around the king.

  Watching this, Ondre worriedly swallowed, gulping air as he did so. His beady eyes darted from one vampire to the next, staring in utter terror. His mind frantically tried to make sense of all of this, but couldn’t. His body recognized the danger and he began to sweat.

  “I see you understand. Now let’s cover some expectations. One—I’m not allowed to mutilate you beyond recognition, Two—it must look like an accident so we can explain this away and three—I’m to have some fun.” Her laugh had an evil sounding ring. “Ready?”

  Ondre shook off his stupor and faced her, “You were always a right bitch. I told our parents it was a mistake to have a second child and they should have smothered you in your crib.”

  “Pity they didn’t.” She was in the act of turning when she paused. “Oh, how was Marigail?”

  His heart stopped. “What have you done with her?”

  “Tell me, were you surprised when you entered the cottage?” Deandra toyed.

  Ondre’s eyes narrowed watching his sister stroll around the room as if this were a casual conversation, not the execution of her liege and brother. The traitorous bitch.

  “What have you done with her?” he quickly spat, and then another thought struck him. “…and the children?”

  “All are well. Much improved I must add with a little memory loss thrown in. They’ve been converted, brother, but have no recollection of whom and what you are to them. Their lineage rightly hidden and her knowledge of what she was about to become burned from her mind.”

  “No!” He flew at her back but his motion halted by a very strong vampire who pinned him by his arm. Ondre screamed in rage but was thwarted from killing his baby sister and ripping her heart out with his own hand.

  “Ondre, really. Did you think you could potentially bring me harm here?” She raised one hand indicating the room and the vampires that were there. “Really?”

  “You little bitch. I can’t believe you would do this.” He snarled at the same time the vampire holding him shoved him back to the table.

  “I find that greatly amusing, brother.” Deandra’s blue eyes never left her weasely older brother as she stalked the room, showing more and more of her vampire with each step. “For you see, I have dreamt about this for, oh, let’s see…my entire life?”

  He felt the fear snake up his spine and paralyze him. Deandra was the threat. Deandra, his sister was the threat to his crown, not an outside force…not the Dûr Falas. Ondre started to hyperventilate while he accepted this. “Will Marigail and the children remain alive?” His throat clamped shut, causing his words out in a whisper.

  “Yes, as I explained, they won’t remember you,” she replied and seeing his face pale, a cruel smile of satisfaction appeared. She continued to stalk around the room silently, hunting him with her eyes until she decided what to do next.

  Ondre couldn’t watch any longer. Seeing Deandra like this, feral and creepy was making his skin crawl. He’d known something was underfoot when he’d arrived at the cabin, finding it empty. He knew something foul was in motion, because Marigail would never have left without word. Especially not after he’d received the original note from her. He’d ridden there quickly the moment it arrived because she’d arranged for the priest to come and marry them that night. He’d gone there thinking he was one step ahead of Kaen and found out just how erroneous he was.

  “And my guards?” he asked softly. He had three guards protecting him on his ride. Before she answered, Ondre knew what she would say.

  “Cut down. From what I understand, it was a pathetic fight. Only two vampires were sent to collect you, brother. Your guards were gutted before they could even defend your honor.”

  Ondre’s head hung in remorse. They were good men. Even if he did enjoy the arts of torture, his guards were true. If they weren’t he gutted them himself.

  “Saying your good-byes?” Deandra taunted. She was closer now, her spiraling stalk bringing her closer to the table.

  With his eyes now closed, he listened to her feet sloshing through the puddles of water on the floor. He narrowed his focus and picked up and held his focus on the water dripping into those puddles. It strangely pacified him. “How could you do this, Deandra?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding me? You, who have bled this realm dry for taxes? You, who have killed innocent men for your guilty pleasures?” Her laughter halted her approach as her stomach cramped with amusement. “You have destroyed this realm. Kaen and I will rebuild it in our own vision, so how dare you ask ‘how can I do this’?”

  Ondre continued to sit there with his eyes closed trying to find his inner calm before his death. He suspected she would strike under Kaen’s urging but not be this quick about it. He thought he had time, hence his plans with Marigail. “You were never the cruel one, only spoiled. When did it all turn for you? What was your breaking point?”

  She snorted, “When I was told by my nurse at the ripe age of seven that I was a spare child, a backup plan. I was only conceived to replace you in the event you died.” A grim satisfaction spread through her mind when she saw her dream thought up so very long ago before her. “I vowed then and there that I would kill you myself because
I wasn’t a backup child. I am more. I refused to believe that I had no other purpose in life than to wait around for your demise, so I decided I would make it happen somehow to speed that eventuality along.” She chuckled, “And here we are.”

  “You are demented. Crazy; obviously born broken. I should have seen this before. I failed,” he whispered.

  “Oh, I disagree brother. I wasn’t born broken. I was born with intelligence, something you lacked. You were born with a cruel streak which only grew as you got older.” Deandra was close enough to touch him now. She reached out and dragged one sharp talon across his back, slicing through the fabric of his doublet, watching the tear spread. The rip exposed his skin, which escaped being sliced open because she was being careful not to damage him too quickly. She wanted to enjoy his torture later.

  Ondre flinched away, but she was quicker and performed a similar action on his front, leaving his doublet in shreds. “You can do the rest. Strip Ondre.” She ordered in a voice close to a growl.

  When he didn’t move, she poked him with her talon drawing a single drop of blood. Deandra wasn’t prepared for the blood yet. She wasn’t ready to feed but the smell pulled her, sent her into a craze and she was in motion before she knew what was happening.

  Strong arms pinned her around her torso and lifted her off the ground. When she looked down, those arms had dark skin and strong muscles as he worked to control her while in a craze.

  Faelwen tightened his hold, leaning close to her ear, “Not now, princess. You had other plans, remember?” Faelwen whispered tenderly in her ear. He didn’t resist capturing the lobe in his lips to distract her, suckling her skin while she absorbed his words.

  It had the desired effect. She stilled for a moment before she thrashed violently again when she smelled the tart fear rolling off Ondre in waves. She wrinkled her nose at the bitterness of it, but Faelwen was too enticing, too delicious to resist. She needed to feed and the dry burn in her throat flared to a painful burn while the need consumed her.