by Wendy Knight
Princess of the Damned
by Wendy Knight
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Princess of the Damned
Copyright © 2016 Wendy Knight
Cover Art by J.M Rising Horse Creations
To all my readers who suffer from depression.
May you find an escape from your darkness.
LANDON HAD NEVER SEEN HIS OWN reflection. He saw hers instead. He grew up watching this girl in the mirror grow with him. Grew up memorizing every feature, every movement, every horror she endured. He could see into her palace, into the darkness she was trapped in.
When he was little, he told his parents about her. His parents thought she was an imaginary friend, and they humored him. But she didn't go away.
She couldn't see him, but the older he got, the more she sensed him.
And then she started talking to him.
She didn't need the mirror. She couldn't see him at all, but that didn't seem to matter. When she was alone, she sang to him. And she told him her nightmares. Except the nightmares were her life.
She was a captive of the Queen of the Damned.
And when Landon was seventeen, he fell in love with her.
LANDON WATCHED EIRESS WHILE HE BRUSHED his teeth and got ready for school. There was nothing else he could do; she couldn't even see him, but he was loath to leave her. She sat in the middle of her bed, rocking back and forth, humming and petting her pet dragon. Tears slowly soaked her cheeks and every so often, she would sob. The ball must have been horrific last night.
He put his toothbrush away and closed the mirror, trailing his finger down the reflection of her cheek, as if he could dry her tears.
She smiled and raised her head a little. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Any time." Landon smirked, because he knew she couldn't hear him, and yet here he was, talking to the mirror again.
Some people might think he was crazy, talking to a mirror.
Of course, if they knew he was actually talking to the princess trapped inside, they'd have him committed right away.
That was why he'd given up telling anyone about her.
"Landon! Cassie's here!"
Landon swore, backing away from the mirror. With every step, Eiress's shoulders hunched and she curled in on herself even more. "I'll be okay," she said quietly.
With one last, desperate look, he stumbled away, feeling his soul tear slightly as he left the bathroom. He rounded the corner, grabbed his bag, and jogged down the stairs. He caught another brief look as he passed the front hall mirror—Eiress crying over her pet dragon.
It nearly froze him in his tracks.
"Hey babe. We're gonna be late." Cassie almost hit him with the door as she stuck her head in, frowning. "I knocked like ten minutes ago."
This happened, sometimes. He'd get lost in the mirror, end up standing there for hours when he thought it had been minutes. Usually when she needed him most.
He tore his gaze away. "Sorry. Let's go."
He opened the passenger door for Cassie, like a good boyfriend would, and mechanically settled behind the wheel and started his truck. Cassie lived three houses down. Her family had moved in last summer, and he'd been giving her a ride to school since the first day of class.
He wasn't exactly sure when he'd become her boyfriend, though.
She chattered while he drove, something about her job and how her boss was a jerk. It took her all the way to school and into first period to tell it, and he half-heartedly attempted to listen.
School was the same, voices and conversations that he barely heard.
"Landon, what can you tell us about the American Revolution?" "Landon, explain to me how you come to the correct answer for this equation." "Landon, don't mix baking soda and vinegar. You'll cause an explosion!"
After that, he fought harder to get Eiress out of his head. At least until he got to work after school.
His mom owned an antique store. He helped out when he didn't have football practice, and since it was April, that meant every day. He didn't mind though. The job was easy, and as a bonus, there was an ancient, mysterious mirror framed with ornate mahogany. For some reason, his mom had never been able to sell it.
Probably because Landon had changed the price to $2 million, and she'd never noticed.
Of all the mirrors he'd seen Eiress in, this one fit her best.
He dropped his bag behind the counter, helped find places for all his mom's new treasures, cleaned the glass display cases, and finally settled down next to the mirror to do his homework.
Eiress looked up, her bright red hair and bright red lips the only color in a world of grays, whites, and blacks.
And she smiled.
His heart immediately broke and healed, all at the same time. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. To say she was astoundingly beautiful when she smiled was akin to blasphemy. It was like looking into the sun. She made the pale skin work, and the elaborate dresses she always wore—like something out of the Renaissance period, only enhanced her beauty. Landon had drawn her a few times, in regular girl clothing, pretending she went to high school with him.
It didn't matter what she wore. She was still heartrendingly beautiful.
Eiress held up her knitting. "I'm making Kaida a sweater. He wasn't thrilled about the measuring part, but he'll get used to it. Without his fire, he's nothing but a lizard." She grinned as the little dragon curled around her wrist, settling in her palm, and hissed at her. "But such a cute one."
In her world of nightmares, she'd rescued Kaida when a dragon had attacked her castle. The dragon had been killed, and the evil souls had gleefully killed the babies in the nest left behind. All except Kaida, who Eiress had rescued and named after the brother she'd left behind when she'd been taken. The brother she hadn't seen in fourteen years.
Eiress kept talking, and while Landon hadn't been able to focus on one single word all day long, now he heard nothing except her voice. The cars outside, the customers, his mom, they all faded into the background, and it was just Eiress.
"The ball last night was harsh. So many evil souls from your world, but I sent them to hell. Elizabeth and Mary granted three a reprieve. I wasn't fast enough in my sentencing. Maybe if there were more princesses to help me…"
She trailed off, and she absently stroked Kaida's scaly back. There were no princesses because the ones Mary had managed to capture and drag back to the Isles of the Damned only lasted a few days, a week at most, before they gave up everything to escape the nightmare that was their new life. And dying in the Isle meant there was no happy afterlife. They, along with the damned souls, went to hell.
Eiress had lasted fourteen years. She said it was because of Landon. He liked to believe her.
"Anyway, the three—the three that made it back. They had evil souls. Very black. They prey on children and worship drugs. Be careful out there." She smiled, but her smile was sad. Changing the subject abruptly, she plopped Kaida onto the bed in front of her and held up her knitting. "I think gray is his color, don't you?"
"Yeah. It's a good color on him. Goes with the black scales very well," Landon said.
"Did you say something, dear?"
Landon
jumped, and nearly fell over. The cute little old lady peered at him over her spectacles in alarm.
"No-no ma'am. I didn't realize I was talking out loud."
She blinked at him suspiciously.
"Can I help you with something?" He struggled to his feet, shaking out his legs, wondering how long he'd been sitting there, staring into the mirror.
"I'm looking for a clock. Mine fell off the wall and broke. See?" She held out her hands, showing him the remains of a clock that looked like it had fallen off the wall and then been smashed with a bat two or three hundred times.
Landon nodded, taking her arm. "Clocks are right over here." He led her away, glancing over his shoulder at the mirror as he did.
Eiress smiled, raising one hand in goodbye. Kaida curled his way up her arm and hissed.
HER CHAMBERS ALWAYS SEEMED so much colder when he left. She dropped her knitting, untangled Kaida from her arm, and rolled off the bed, landing lightly on her feet. Clutching up her skirts, she wandered to the balcony, the chains on her wrists clattering with every move, but she'd worn them so long she barely noticed. The nightmares were out, now. The day waned, the bleak yellow-black sun was setting. It was their favorite time of the day, when the new souls arrived to try to fight their way to the castle, seeking retribution.
The nightmares made that as difficult as possible.
Eiress thought by now she'd be used to the screaming. But no. Not ever. It clawed at her heart and sent chills through her blood. She could see some of them, dancing in the shadows below her.
Her land was made up of everything feared. Clowns were common, as were spiders. Monsters and werewolves and vampires. Sharp cliffs in the distance, foaming waves surging below them. Dolls with empty eyes and broken, half-eaten bodies.
The kittens, though, always amused her, as did the butterflies.
She watched them now, fluffy little black things with bright green eyes—the kittens, not the butterflies. They chased the dark souls, and the souls screamed in horror and raced away. The strange thing about her world, though, was no matter how fast one ran, the fear was always right there with them.
Maybe it wasn't so different from real life.
The souls themselves were what really scared her. They roiled in rottenness, like curdled, writhing oil with flashes of their victims' faces, screaming for help. She didn't see their physical bodies—the other princesses could, which is why so many had been tricked into taking the damned souls' places in hell. A pretty face could persuade anyone, it seemed.
But no, Eiress saw their souls. She had no idea what they had looked like before they came to her court. They, more than anything out in her forests, haunted her dreams and caused her to wake screaming.
She shivered, rubbing her bare arms. Lifting her skirts again, she swung away, eyes drifting to the sky and the black, black moon.
The ball would start soon.
Horror washed over her in waves, as always.
And then warmth. He was back.
Smiling, she hurried back inside. The closer she came to the mirror, the warmer she got—it was the only warmth in a world of ice. She could feel his frustration, and she fought to alleviate it. "The kittens are back. They're smaller than before. And fluffier. Maybe Kaida would like a friend." She raised an eyebrow at her dragon and he hissed as he scampered away.
Laughing, she turned back to the mirror. She wondered if he could see her, or if he just felt her presence, the way she felt him. She wondered if—if he could see her—if he thought she was pretty. She could feel his soul, and knew it was beautiful. Was hers, as well? Subconsciously, she smoothed the front of her dress. "You have some odd villains in your world. I mean, all villains are off, you know? Of course. But their fears. Some of them are funny. I saw one who was afraid of a phone. It was being chased by a giant receiver. I almost fell right off my balcony, I laughed so hard. Although the chains would have caught me, and then I would have just hung there…"
Well. That had escalated quickly.
Out of words, she picked up her knitting and settled herself into the middle of her bed. Humming, she started knitting again, praying that his warmth wouldn't leave her.
Inevitably it did, but it returned. Three times before the ball, he left and came back. Only he, in her world of darkness, could chase the shadows away.
But even he couldn't save her from the ball. Nothing could. As the moon disappeared behind the sharp cliffs, she slid to her feet, put her knitting away, tucked Kaida into her armoire so nothing could find him, and opened her jewelry box. The glittering black crown burned her fingers as she raised it to her head. Lifting her chin, she swept out of her chambers and into the hall, chains rattling quietly in her wake. Plush carpets silenced her progress, and she moved like a ghost through the castle and down the turret steps. By the time she reached the second floor, the wailing and moaning was already wafting through the air.
The Damned had arrived.
She reached the doors to the ballroom. They were carved with the faces of the damned, screaming in horror. Mary, in particular, loved this door most. Taking a deep breath, trying to keep the horror at bay, Eiress pulled the doors open.
"Look who's late, as usual." Elizabeth sat on her throne, perfect black lips pursed in annoyance.
"Quiet, Elizabeth." That voice.
Mary.
That voice sent chills down Eiress's spine. It was the first thing she'd heard when she'd opened her eyes here, telling Elizabeth that they would keep this one. That she was special, that she would be their princess. We can't hurt this one, Elizabeth. Her spirit would kill us all.
"She doesn't enjoy this like we do." Mary's smile dripped wickedness. She wasn't beautiful, as Elizabeth was. Her hair was short and frizzy, but her stature, the way she held herself—it was far more terrifying than Elizabeth could ever hope to be.
Bloody Mary. The Queen of the Damned.
Eiress could see their outward appearances, unlike the damned, who were just souls. It was because they still lived, or lived again, rather. Vlad, too. But she also saw their souls, inside, and knew them to be truly terrifying.
"Vlad, let the souls in. Maybe one will catch her fancy tonight." Mary swept her arms wide. As their steward turned to open the wide doors leading outside, Eiress took her spot on the throne between Elizabeth and Mary.
As always, Elizabeth murmured, "We could always kill her. I haven't had a blood bath in ages. My skin is positively gray."
It was true, but no amount of virgin blood could change that. Her soul was rotting her from the inside out.
Vlad turned, his heels clicking. "May I introduce the Queen of the Damned, Mary Tudor, her handmaiden, Elizabeth Bathory, and the Princess of the Damned, Eiress Aziz Reinheit." Then he spread his arms wide and the crowd of souls on the other side flooded the room, primping and preening, trying to get the attention of the three women on their thrones. The music started, slow and haunting—the stuff children heard when they were lost in the forest. The melodies that slid through the night before death.
The crowd of damned surged forward, vying for a dance with one of the women. One dance was all it took to give them another chance at life above. Mary and Elizabeth could dance without sacrificing their own souls, but Eiress could not. One dance with any of these horrific souls would free them, but send her to hell in their place. She'd seen too many other princesses choose that path.
No matter how many times Mary tried to force her, Eiress would not be one of them.
She had her friend. The one she could feel in the mirror. And she had Kaida.
That didn't stop the souls from nearly crushing her though, the evilness slithering through their eyes, smothering their black hearts. Every time they brushed her skin, she was overcome with memories of their greatest sins.
Eiress cringed away, and Elizabeth and Mary laughed at her. They relished her discomfort. They taunted her, trying to drive her to hell, but they would not succeed.
No. They would not.
"Dance!" Mary commanded, and the souls, quaking in terror, chose partners and waltzed through the ballroom. "I so miss this," she murmured to Elizabeth. "Nothing compares to life outside the Isles."
Elizabeth patted Mary's arm, but her eyes strayed to the beautiful young women with rotted souls twirling across the floor below them. "We will escape soon enough. All it takes is one of these souls to find the key."
The key. The only thing that protected the world from Mary's bloodthirsty presence. The key unlocked their chains, and then it was just a matter of pulling someone in through the mirror and escaping out in that poor soul's place.
If any of these souls that Mary and Elizabeth sent back ever found the key, the world would never recover. Every night, Eiress prayed the key would stay hidden for the rest of eternity.
Even if it meant she would never be free.
LANDON'S SHIFT AT THE ANTIQUE STORE ended as Eiress left for the ball. He'd followed her there once, watching through the grand mirrors that lined the ceiling of the ball room, but it had been so horrific, he'd never dared follow her again.
He was a coward.
However, he did catch glimpses of her whenever he checked his rearview mirror, huddled on her throne, leaning away from the crush of people trying to smother her alive. Some, he recognized—he'd seen them on the news when they'd died for their crimes.
"Hang in there, Eiress," he murmured as he pressed the gas pedal closer to the floor. "I'm almost home."
His mom met him at the door. "Hey. Dinner's almost ready." She took his bag, hung it up, planted a kiss on his cheek, and went back to cooking. He inwardly groaned—she had a tendency to burn everything she attempted to make. His dad was the chief cook in the house. "Why are you so late tonight? I left the store almost an hour ago."
"Uh, someone came in. Last minute emergency."
"A last minute emergency at an antique store?" She glanced at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. I guess. I'm just gonna go wash up. Dust. Everywhere." He held up his hands, which were indeed grimy from the antiques. She nodded, but somehow in the time between when she'd gone back to cooking and he'd finished his sentence, she'd become distracted by the phone and was scrolling and giggling while the pasta boiled all over the stove. "Mom? Mom!" Landon jogged past her and lifted the pan to safety.
