The Vampire Gift 2: Kingdom of Ash

by E. M. Knight

  She shakes her head.

  “What he is proposing is a type of rape.” Beatrice speaks softly, but her voice draws everyone’s attention. “We will not resort to such tactics. Not yet.”

  Reluctantly, The Ancient lets me go. Father stares impassively at me.

  How much influence does this woman have?

  “Tell me, James,” Beatrice flows toward me. “Last time you saw the Queen. Did anything in particular… stand out? Did she seem different or maybe changed, somehow?”

  I remember the way Mother refused to look at me until passing her sentence. The same she’s been for hundreds of years.

  “No,” I say stiffly.

  “Are you sure?” Beatrice’s voice is sweet as honey and clear as running water. She tangles a hand in my hair, places her lips to my ear, and purrs, “Anything? Anything at all?”

  My body reacts to her sensual proximity. I do my best to hide it. “No,” I say.

  “Such a shame,” she whispers. “We were all hoping you’d be more use.”

  Suddenly she places a silver needle beneath my ear.

  I go absolutely still.

  “There is more than one way to kill a vampire,” she tells me. “And more than one way to torture one.”

  All my attention is drawn to the needle. The rest of the assembly has gone absolutely silent.

  “I’ve been experimenting lately. A stake through the heart, exposure to fire, all of those are known to kill, yes, but such methods are not very… exciting.”

  Beatrice presses her breasts into me, flaunting her femininity while toying with my life. “Yet this needle, stuck in the right spot on your neck… it would lead to a slow and agonizing death. A death which is drawn out for weeks. A death where hallucinations take you. A death that exposes you to the most heinous parts of your mind.”

  “You lie,” I growl. Still, I do not move.

  “Oh? Do you wish to test me?” She applies the tiniest bit more pressure. I go on my toes so she doesn’t break skin.

  “Thought not,” she murmurs. “Now, tell us what you know—or risk igniting my displeasure.”

  “I told you everything,” I grunt. “Why would I hold anything back?”

  “So be it.” Beatrice shrugs. “I guess you’re not as much use to us as we first thought.”

  She looks at my Father for permission. He nods.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I hiss. My mind grapples for something to tell them. “There was a—a staff! When Mother greeted me, she was using a walking staff. She’s never had it before.”

  It’s the most desperate attempt at giving useful information I know. But, to my surprise, Beatrice eases the needle’s pressure.

  “A staff?” she asks. “Interesting. Very interesting. What did it look like?”

  “Waist high, made of some dark metal, don’t know… I didn’t pay attention to such things when my life was on the line.”

  “As it is now,” Beatrice reminds me. “Again.”

  Riyu, to my surprise, retrieves a book from the side and lays it flat on the table. Without speaking, he opens it to a particular page, and points.

  My eyes go wide. “That’s it!” I say. “That’s the Queen’s staff!”

  Beatrice nods. She shares a look with Riyu. “We hoped it would be.” She turns to my Father. “James is now ready to prove his loyalty to you.”

  A dangerous grin crosses the King’s face.

  “If you want to live,” he tells me, “you will return to The Haven—and you will bring the staff back to us.” His eyes shine with greed. “With a torrial of such strength in my command…”

  “…You will rule the world,” Beatrice finishes, breathless.

  The vampires around me start to laugh.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  SMITHSON

  “The guards have been told to keep a keen eye for unusual activity,” I report. “So far, they’ve witnessed none. News of the Narwhark has been contained.”

  I’m alone with the Queen in the room. Her massive crystal throne looms high above us both.

  I’m at the bottom of the stairs leading to the gaudy thing. She’s perched on its edge.

  She peers at her nails and affects a disinterested expression. “No less than I expected from you.”

  “The village is starting to take shape. The humans are working fast. Since your display in the caves, there have been no dissenters.” I allow myself a smug grin. “Of course, my guards keep watch to help ensure things stay that way.”

  “Of course,” the Queen echoes, sounding almost bored.

  It rubs me the wrong way.

  “Is there something wrong, my Queen? You asked for a status report. Things are going according to plan, ahead of schedule. The humans haven’t even considered rebelling. The disquietude amongst your vampire population has simmered down. And—”

  “Can I trust you, Smithson?” she interrupts. “Can I really trust you?”

  I drop to one knee. “With your life,” I swear. “I am forever your loyal subject.”

  “As you so often say,” she murmurs.

  She glides down the steps and stops right beside me. “Stand,” she commands.

  I do. Even though I’m taller than she is, she cuts an imposing figure.

  “You know…” she traces a hand along my jaw. “I always thought you were exceedingly handsome.”

  I clear my throat and look around. “Is this appropriate?”

  “There’s no one here.” She runs that hand down over my chest, over my torso. “This is my castle. Here as in all The Haven, my word is law.”

  “I do not doubt that,” I say. Her wandering hand reaches my waist. She tugs me to her.

  “I’ve been so lonely, Smithson,” she says. “It’s a hard life at the top. Your subjects are either scared or intimidated. That’s the way it was to be. But now, even my own sons have abandoned me. James is gone. Raul and Phillip are both plotting against me. Andrey is dead. There are few left for me to rely on… few left for me to expose myself to.

  “And besides,” she brings her lips to my ear and finishes in a whisper, “I’ve seen the way you leer at me when you think my attention is turned. You want me, Smithson. Coincidentally…” her sharp teeth come out, and she nips my ear. “I want you, too.”

  Heat rises to my chest and my breathing becomes heavy. “You are a beautiful woman,” I tell her.

  She throws her head back and laughs. “The most glorious woman to live for centuries, I would think.”

  She grabs my hand and leads me to her private rooms. As she takes me to bed, the whole time, my prevailing thought is:

  You are no match for the wife I lost because of you.

  ***

  For hours after our tumble we just lie together, unspeaking. She is curled up on my chest, content as a happy cat.

  My thoughts, on the other hand, are stormy.

  I gave in to my desire without thought to the consequences. If word escapes of this affair, I’ll have to deal with endless problems from the guards stationed under me. Not to mention even more friction between her sons and me.

  “Be a dear and raise the blinds, would you?” she asks. “I wish to look into the night.”

  I get out of bed, wrapping the sheet around my body, and go to the window to pull the drapes open.

  A gust of cold air sweeps into the room. I take a deep, invigorating breath.

  “What do you see?” the Queen asks.

  I look past the window frame. The stars are shining down over The Haven. From this high up, I see the lights from the village bleeding into the night. Beyond that, the vampire treetop quarters are also visible, peeking through the dense redwoods.

  “It’s quiet,” I tell her. “All is still.”

  “How I wish it were more than an illusion.” The Queen rises. She does not bother to cover herself as she walks across the room to the fireplace, where her staff is secure on a spectacular mantle.

  She takes hold of it and comes to me. “It’s beautiful outs
ide, isn’t it?”

  “Not as beautiful as you, in the glow of the moon.”

  “Oh, you charmer.” She laughs. “You’ve already had me in bed. I don’t need to be showered by your compliments.”

  “They are true,” I tell her, “coming without subterfuge or deception.”

  “How refreshing.” She sighs. “If only I could believe you.”

  I turn back to the window.

  “This won’t last, you know,” she says after a moment.

  I look at her. “What won’t? Us?”

  She gives a small laugh and shakes her head. “You are welcome in my bed so long as you don’t bore me. No, not us, Smithson. This.” She sweeps a hand out to take in the tranquil landscape. “After the attack that freed James, I thought more would come. That hasn’t happened, yet… but it will.”

  “We’ll be ready,” I promise her. “The guard—“

  “Is no use against a full-blown army,” she cuts in harshly. “The only thing keeping us safe is the new wards I put up. But they will not stand forever. And I cannot remain cut off from the outside world. I’ve spent over six hundred years in this place. I yearn to be free.”

  “I… don’t know what to tell you, my Queen.” I am reluctant to step over any boundaries with her. One wrong move, one wrong word, and my entire position here could be compromised.

  “Then listen,” she says. “You know the covens in North America. You’ve been inside them. You have relations with their rulers.”

  “I—“

  “Don’t deny it. You were a wanderer for too long not to have developed friendships, and not to have been privy to information. Besides, before, you were part of that terrible order. What was the name again? It started with a ‘V’.”

  “The Vorcellian Order,” I say stiffly. “And I vow, I’ve had no relations with them since being turned.”

  “Such a pity,” she muses. “Some of the information they must have archived would be of great help to us. Whatever became of them, do you know?”

  “The Order’s powers dwindled until they became a fringe organization,” I lie. “I stopped keeping tabs when it became obvious they lost their influence upon the world.”

  “Careful, Smithson,” The Queen purrs. “You wouldn’t want me to catch you trying to deceive me.”

  I turn to face her and stare deep into her eyes. “That is the absolute truth.”

  “Hmm.” She looks away. “I have a task for you. I want you to leave The Haven and approach the five covens closest to us. Let them know of the attack mounted against us. Warn that the same can happen to them. Remind them how they do not possess even a tenth of the defenses that I maintain. And then… offer them sanctuary.”

  I spin on her. “What?”

  “Sanctuary. Free passage. We need to increase our numbers. The Haven is strong, but I fear we are not as strong as The Crypts. If war is coming, we must be ready.”

  “You haven’t opened The Haven to new vampires for hundreds of years,” I say. “Your subjects will not be happy.”

  “You can’t please everyone,” she shrugs. “Besides…” she twists my nipple. “Last I checked, I still rule. And my word is still law.”

  Yes, I think. But for how long?

  Chapter Forty-Six

  RAUL

  “Mother is bringing more vampires in!” I exclaim as I storm into Phillip’s room. “She’s opening up The Haven to other covens.”

  He jerks up. “What?”

  “Smithson went out a week ago as her delegate. No wonder we haven’t seen him for so long. Word just arrived that he is returning in three days.”

  “That means Mother will need to lift the wards,” Phillip says. “That will leave us exposed!”

  “It’ll be controlled,” I murmur. “But yes.”

  “Whoever broke James out… whoever was responsible for the Voice the humans heard… if they’re watching, that’s when they will strike.”

  “And with the wards the way they are,” I say, “we are completely blind to what’s happening on the Outside.”

  “She could be opening us up for a major attack.”

  “Mother claims she’s taking precautions.”

  “Oh? And those are?”

  I grunt. “Teaching Eleira magic. She wants two full witches to be on display when the other coven arrives.”

  “And Eleira’s going along with it?”

  “It’s not,” I say darkly, “like she’s been given much of a choice.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ELEIRA

  A row of marble busts stands far in front of me.

  “Focus… and… strike!”

  The Queen’s command whips through me. I channel the energy gathered in my head, concentrate the flow out to my hands, and will a violent flare of magic forward.

  Light bursts from my hands. It’s blinding and comes with an enormous crash. The beam hits the marble bust… and fizzles out completely.

  The bust is completely unmarked.

  Morgan curses. “Concentrate, Eleira! You’re all theatrics and no substance.”

  My arms sag down to my sides. My whole body feels like it’s been through the wringer. This type of training has been exhausting.

  We started the day after Morgan deemed me sufficiently healed. She took me down, deep underground, to a cold iron chamber that reminded me of a nuclear hideout. She said the iron would prevent any excess magic from leaking out and also protect me from any spells that might be directed at me from the outside.

  We haven’t yet uncovered who it was that took control of my mind.

  “Maybe if you told me what I was doing wrong,” I begin.

  She gives a flippant laugh. “I would if I could. But magic is highly individual. What works for one witch might not work for the next. All I can do is have you watch, and make you mimic what I do.”

  On that note, she summons three quick beams of light. They burst from her fingertips. Each hits a bust square in the middle.

  The marble statues go flying. They crash into the far walls and join the rubble already there from her previous demonstrations.

  “You see?” She whirls on me. “I focused my power on the attack. Not on being showy with flashing lights and booming sounds. Subtlety is the key to all this.”

  “I thought you’d be teaching me real spells,” I say. “Not how to destroy marble carvings!” I extend my claws. “I’m more dangerous as a vampire. At least that way, instinct tells me how to kill.”

  Even a week ago, that admission would have frightened me. Now? Well, I’ve more readily come to terms with my vampiric self than I could believe.

  “These are the simplest types of spells,” Morgan hisses. “All they take is a concentration of energy. You’re not manipulating the magical forces. You’re not weaving intricate patterns with an ethereal energy you cannot see. These provide the base. If you cannot do even that…”

  Frustration bubbles up inside. I take aim at the pile of rubble and summon the inherent magical energies lashing through the air. They flow into me like a lightning rod. I have only the barest flicker of a second to concentrate it into a destructive beam like Morgan just did.

  The spell flares from my fingertips—no light, no sound—and obliterates the cracked remains of one of the statues.

  “Yes!” Morgan exclaims. “Yes, perfectly done, just like that!”

  I stare in amazement. I hadn’t expected that to come so easily. Especially not after all the failed attempts.

  Morgan starts toward me. “You see, when you just focus, you have all it takes—”

  She stops as a violent gust of wind whips her dress up.

  She looks at me. “Did you do that?”

  “No—“

  I don’t get to finish. At that moment a tornado starts up at the opposite end of the room. It sweeps up all the pieces of rubble and blows them into a raging vortex. They spit out of it one-by-one, crashing against the walls with enormous force.

  I cry out and duck as one fl
ies straight for my head. It skims so close, I feel my hair blow out by the tailwind.

  Morgan grabs my arm. “We have to get out!” she screams. The tornado is flinging bits of rubble everywhere. Projectiles fly at us with deadly speed. “We—“

  A huge piece of debris comes straight for us. Morgan casts a defensive spell. A glowing blue orb surrounds us. The jagged rock hits the edge and disintegrates, like a meteor striking earth’s atmosphere.

  “Come on!” Morgan shoves me to the door. Behind us the tornado rages on, darting across the floor like an angry caged animal.

  The Queen pulls the door open and we stumble out. Just before she closes it, something catches my attention within.

  In the middle of the floor, right beneath the point of the tornado, a black hole is opening.

  “Morgan!” I scream. “Look at that!”

  She sees what I’m pointing at and curses. The darkness spreads, like a blot of spilled ink across a page.

  A jagged, crooked arm extends from the darkness. It’s thin as a gnarled branch, and covered entirely in a sickly black slime. Its fingers grip the edge, and it pulls itself up.

  One of the most horrendously misshapen creatures I’ve ever seen comes out. It has no eyes, only a wide, open mouth showing rows upon rows of sharp, gleaming white teeth. The teeth are completely at odds with the smooth, inky black of its wide and bulbous head.

  A beam of light, a beam of power, shoots out from Morgan’s hands. It hits the creature in the face.

  It gives a vicious scream, high and loud, like a hissing, boiling pot of water. And then it—it pushes Morgan’s attack back.

  For a moment I’m stupefied. The creature not only repels the spell, it actually forces the beam back toward Morgan.

  “Don’t just stand there. Help me!” the Queen commands.

  I try to focus and cast another spell but my attention is shot. I can’t look away from the awful creature. I feel almost a… a kinship toward it. Like it’s a part of me, like it’s mine, like I’m responsible for it.

  “No,” I snarl, and throw myself at Morgan to stop her attack.