Awakened Magic (The House of Rune Book 2)

by J. G. Massie

  “And what of your father?” I asked, not liking the dark turn of this conversation one bit.

  “What of him?” Marco fired back.

  “You are inviting an open rebellion,” Turner warned. “That’s what of it.”

  “If it comes down to it, are you really willing to openly challenge your father’s authority?” I asked. “The consequences could be unimaginable.”

  His white-hot glare made me take a step back. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he might be deciding which one of us to take out first. “I will do whatever is necessary.”

  “What does that even mean?” Isaac pressed further. “It places the Noctem in an impossible position. What kind of leader would force his people’s hand like that?”

  “The kind that intends to lead,” Marco pressed back. As the two locked stares, the whole scene looked all too familiar to me. I had seen them this angry with each other only once before, and it was not pretty. “Power and influence are what is respected among my people. Hesitation and empathy are seen as signs of weakness. And trust me, no one sees me as weak.”

  “Hypothetically,” Turner said, clearly not ready to let this go just yet. “Let’s just say that you go in there, thumping your chest like the alpha male you claim to be, and they are still not willing to listen? One can only assume that no matter what you do or say, there will still be a large number of Noctem who remain comfortable with the old ways. It is all they know, after all. And I’m not so certain that a young, hotshot, inexperienced vampire prince will be able to change their minds overnight.”

  Turner began to pace, hands clasped behind his back. “At that point,” he stalled, tapping his thumb against his chest, “would it not be best to simply wipe them out?” Marco raised a questioning eyebrow. That raw statement surprised him just as much as it did us. “As the old saying goes, if you are not with us then you must be against us, correct? Did you not already state you would do whatever was necessary to advance our agenda? Would that not include eliminating any possible future threats to our cause?”

  I braced, thinking I might have to take at a run at Marco to stop him before he did anything crazy. I could see from Isaac’s tight stance that he was probably thinking the same. But a second later, Marco threw his head back and laughed.

  “And once again the mighty Keeper proves to the world that his arrogance knows no bounds.” Marco smoothed his hands down his face, trying to smother his own laughter. “Tell me, oh god among men, did you really expect to take down an entire race of ancient vampires all by yourself? Believe me, I would buy a ticket to see that show.”

  Standing tall, Turner’s expression never changed. But he didn’t reply either.

  “I see... Well, lucky for you, it would never come to that,” Marco continued. “Even if we possessed the means to do what the Sabbot could not even after hundreds of years of trying, I would still never take such extreme steps. The way I see it, both humans and vampires are all just resources in one way or another. They are to be used, even abused when the situation requires. But wasted without serving a purpose? Never...”

  I couldn’t help but shiver at his cold, yet completely logical view of living things in general.

  “Still, all your concerns and hypotheticals are moot points at best. The Noctem are a dictatorship. As long as he shows no weakness, the head vampire’s rule is absolute and unquestioned. If I even sense there might be trouble, I will simply have to seize my position a bit earlier than originally intended. Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare our entry into Darkeum Cove.” He marched away while leaving us standing in stunned silence.

  What had we gotten ourselves into? What did he mean by seize his position? I still had plenty more questions for the ice-cold vampire, but for now they would have to wait.

  “Where the heck are we going?” Lindsey called from below deck. “Seriously, am I the only one seeing this?”Taken aback by how fast it happened, the rest of us glanced around in curious surprise. Fog, as thick as pea soup, had practically engulfed the boat. I couldn’t even see the water anymore, let alone any giant rocks we might be heading straight into.

  “Calm yourselves. Everything is under control,” Marco called out. Standing near the front of the boat, he didn’t seem distressed in the least. “Just hold her steady and I’ll do the rest.”

  “Is it even possible to keep this blasted carnival ride steady?” It was only then that I noticed poor Margie leaned over the rail, stomach dry heaving with every breath. Hey, what was I thinking? Poor Margie? Poor us! What was going on here?

  Reaching into his pocket, Marco retrieved a thin silver chain with a purple gem attached. Large and finely cut, the large stone was nearly the size of a golf ball. Holding it up, he hummed out a string of words in some strange language. Guttural and unworldly, they sounded as if they would tear up my throat if I tried to repeat them.

  The gem blazed like a lantern as it bathed us in soft purple light. Illuminating the wall of fog before us, it revealed the eerie mist for what it truly was. Scattering like a swarm of frightened cockroaches, the living mist rolled back wherever the light touched it. And now I could see what looked like a million tiny white spiders fleeing from the painful radiance.

  Eww... Have I been breathing little spiders? Gross!

  Faces formed against the spidery canvas, their all too human expressions twisted and pained. Squinting in agony, gaping mouths hanging open in silent screams, they wisped away as comet-like tails marked their flight paths. As they scattered away, the churning fog broke open in the form of a squared doorway. Seconds later we were sailing straight through.

  The water rushed forward, speeding us along with no real way to control the boat. I gripped the rail as we rocked about, tossing and turning like a tiny raft speeding along a raging rapid. I felt Isaac’s iron grip latch around my waist, his other hand clasping the rail to keep us anchored. “I got you,” he assured me, his voice strong and steady. “No matter what happens, I won’t let you go.”

  The way the fog was rushing past overhead, it was a lot like flying a plane through clouds. Marco stood like a rock, his feet practically nailed to the deck. Just when it seemed like the vibrating boat might break apart and dump us all into the ocean, we shot through the last segment of fog and splashed back down onto the open water.

  I loosened my grip on the rail, but still remained close just in case I needed to grab it again. I wasn’t sure I trusted anything right about now. Looking out over the black water, I gasped in awe. I had never seen anything like this, and from the looks on everyone’s faces, I doubted that they had either.

  “What?” Marco said, coolly placing the gem back in his pocket. “Did you think this would be an easy place to find? If that were the case, the Noctem would not have survived this long.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me. “Welcome to Darkeum Cove.”

  Chapter 2

  The sprawling island emerging from the fog was like nothing I had ever seen. Although I had no idea what to expect, it was definitely not this.

  The sandy beach reminded me of a tropical resort, and seemed to run the entire length of the island. The sand was so white that even from this distance I could make out the tiny red crabs and loose shells scattered along the shore. But as we drew closer still, I could see that not all the island was quite so beautiful. Beyond the beach line, some unhealthy-looking trees dotted the parched gray soil. Ancient and gnarled like the ones in old ghost stories, their grainy black branches twisted and curled like antlers.

  As for the island itself, it appeared to radiate with a sort of indescribable energy. Giving off a scattered light that didn’t seem to be coming from any one source, it gave the island a bluish appearance, reminiscent of a black light’s effect.

  I was so distracted by all the background visuals that it took a minute before I noticed the lone vampire standing on the beach. But when my eyes locked onto his angry glare, I was made quite aware of his presence. I barely blinked once or twice before noticing more
vampires had appeared all around the beach.

  The funny thing was that I never saw any of them coming. Each time I looked at one, I would catch a glimpse of another through my peripheral vision. No one ever came walking up over the hill, or stepped out from behind any trees. They were just...there. I shivered, then took a step back to get closer to Isaac.

  Despite how many of them had just dropped out of thin air, it wasn’t just their sheer numbers that had me so rattled. The total silence was just as unnerving, perhaps even more so. There were no hushed murmurs or low-key whispering. Even to hear someone clear their throat would have been something at least. But the only sounds I heard were the light thumping of ocean waves riding up the side of the boat.

  Sand grinding beneath the boat, we rolled up onto the beach. Nobody moved an inch as the silent standoff ensued, each side waiting to see what the other was going to do. Had they been waiting patiently for their missing prince, or had Marco already been branded a traitor, marked for exile? It was impossible to tell, and I literally had to remind myself to breathe.

  I felt Isaac’s hand move up the swell of my back before coming to rest on my shoulder. The moment he touched me, I released a rush of air. How long had I been holding that breath? Oh, this was intense. I looked up and followed his distant gaze, and there he was. How had I not seen him before now?

  Hiding in plain sight, Emilio Draven suddenly stood out like a sore thumb. While most were wearing black outfits with slashes of red mixed in, he was wearing a white robe with tiny green stones lined around the wrists and collar. Even with his face half hidden behind a hung hood, I could just feel his anger radiating outward. Unconsciously, I leaned deeper into Isaac’s chest as I sought comfort. I needed to feel him, to know he was right there with me.

  Emilio drew back his hood to reveal the face I had only seen once before. That ancient mug sent shivers up and down my spine. Like Marco, his gray hair was slicked back tight across his scalp. The last time I saw him, his eyes were red with that trademark bloodlust all vampires seemed to get when they thought about killing. But now that he was mostly under control, I could see that they were actually greenish-yellow.

  Three towering black figures stood around him, clearly some sort of elite guard. Their faces were also hidden in shadow by drooping black hoods. Although they were still as statues, I could sense a sort of aggression about them that the old me would never have detected. With their bodies wound like coiled springs, I just knew they were ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

  I would hardly expect Emilio to need all that extra muscle, but I suppose one can’t be too careful when leading a clan of psychotic vampires...against other clans of...you know...psychotic vampires.

  There came a slow, steady clapping from the general area. But it wasn’t him, and it certainly wasn’t his statue-like guards, who had yet to move an inch. From around his back stepped a bent little man, small by Noctem standards anyway. “Why, look, my good people,” he rasped, his voice weathered and grainy. “It seems our virtuous prince has finally returned.”

  Continuing his steady clapping, the withered old wretch limped his way down the beach. The closer he got, the more I could tell just how nonhuman he really was. My first guess was that he must be an ancient pureblood. I couldn’t imagine there were many of his kind left in the world. Hunched, bent to one side with one leg dragging as he hobbled along, I could see through his thinning white hair that his ears were not only small and pointed, but greenish as well. Definitely not a modern vampire.

  What remained of his hair was tied up in a topknot, and his two front fangs were yellowed with age. I really didn’t know that much about vampires yet, but I could only assume that this dude had to be at least a thousand years old!

  Vampires parted like the Red Sea as he made his way through the crowd, a few even lowering their heads in a kind of reverent recognition. Despite his droopy cloak hanging freely from a thin frame of skin and bones, this frail-looking creature obviously had some status here. He hobbled up near the boat, arms spread in a welcoming gesture.

  “Aleister,” Marco acknowledged, his greeting tight and forced. Fist to his chest, he lowered his head slightly but never took his eyes off the little man.

  “It has been too long, my good prince,” Aleister replied. “Too long indeed. We weren’t exactly sure when you might come back to us, but I’m sure you had your reasons for running off the way you did. No matter, really. As usual, your father has been running things smoothly during your latest unexplained absence. Truth be told, had you not made such a strange entrance with a boat full of humans, I’m not certain if anyone would have noticed you were gone in the first place.”

  When Marco tried to interrupt, Aleister hurriedly spoke right over him. “That is, with the exception of me, of course. How could I not notice such an obvious void in the chain of command?” The bent little creature seemed to be developing a habit of looking back over his shoulder, constantly playing to the crowd while pretending his words were only for Marco. “After all, I was supposed to be the one helping you to prepare. I was the one tasked with easing you in and guiding you along in the ways of our people.”

  “I assure you, old man, that no such guidance is needed by me,” Marco growled. Any efforts to mask his true feelings had just gone up in smoke. “Your teachings are little more than a history lesson, the same lessons that have haunted our people for years. No one has to teach me anything about the old ways. I have watched this madness for many years, remember?”

  “But instead of learning the vast intricacies involved with being a leader,” Aleister went on, basically ignoring every word Marco just said, “it seems our young prince has been galloping about in the world of the living...collecting strays.”

  Again turning back to gesture at the crowd, it didn’t even seem like he was speaking to Marco anymore. “Or perhaps our young prince has just brought us a little snack? I’m quite sure I can no longer tell what he is thinking these days. Each new generation of vampire seems to bring with it a more aloof and softer breed. It’s truly a wonder how the Noctem still sit atop the food chain.”

  “Watch your tongue, old man,” Isaac hissed. He stepped away from me and moved up next to Marco. For all their differences, they still remained loyal to one another when it came to fighting for our cause. That kind of loyalty was rare, even among humans. “Not a man or woman standing before you qualifies as a snack for anyone. If you are so paranoid of the world around you that you can no longer tell friend from foe, then I’m afraid it’s safe to say that your best days are probably long behind you. Perhaps it’s time to hang it up and let some fresh blood take over.”

  “Oh, but I know exactly who you are, Sabbot prince!” the little man boomed. It was startling how his otherwise grainy voice suddenly sounded like thunder. Several of the vampires on the beach even flinched, many backing off a few steps. “But since you seem to be here as a guest of our lost prince, I suppose we must tolerate your presence, for now. Just remember that your status carries no authority here on Noctem soil.”

  Isaac smiled, his posture relaxing a bit. The thinly veiled threat wasn’t lost on him, he just didn’t seem to care. If anything, he seemed entertained by it. “The dirt under my feet has no bearing on my authority or where it is recognized. But hey, feel free to mark your territory like a stray dog if it makes you feel important.” Even a few Noctem began snickering, but were quickly silenced with an angry glance from Aleister.

  The mounting tension was really starting to get to me. My instincts were to curl up in a ball and pretend I was somewhere else, but I didn’t have that luxury anymore. I was a Keeper now, and needed to stay prepared for anything. Trying not to be too obvious, I glanced around while absorbing my surroundings.

  I could see that both Margie and Lindsey had casually drawn their weapons, hidden behind their legs, at some point. But their eyes were not on Aleister, or any of our group for that matter. I could see that they were watching the beach intently, searching for any
unnoticed threats that might be lurking in the shadows.

  All it took was one silver arrow from a nearby tree to end our journey before it even began. Good for them. I wished I could develop such battle-hardened instincts.

  Turner was fingering his inside pocket, no doubt readying a dagger or something similar. Mandla stood tall, his sleepy-eyed gaze taking everything in. Although he looked ready to fall asleep, I could literally feel the tension coiled in his body. Poised to charge at a moment’s notice, I wondered if the old me would have ever noticed such a subtle energy.

  With all the other bases covered, I decided to focus my attention on Emilio Draven. Although he should have been our primary focus, he had yet to say a word. As if reading my mind, those yellowish eyes flickered up to meet mine. Resisting the urge to look away, I met his cold, dead stare. He smiled and cocked his head to the side, possibly impressed with the way I was able to hold his hardened gaze without looking away.

  Or perhaps he was just looking at me the way a hawk looks at a mouse... I couldn’t say either way.

  “Come now, Aleister,” Emilio said, stepping away from his guards to make his way down the beach. He was still grinning, but even I could see the irritation burning behind that mask of calm. “Is that any way to speak to our guests?”

  “A thousand pardons, sir,” Aleister groveled, bowing his head repeatedly as he backed away from the boat.

  “The inexperience of youth is an innocent thing. A thing to be adored and treasured, not publicly ridiculed. One of these days my flippant son will become a man, then even he will look back at these moments and laugh at his own ignorance. But until that fateful day arrives, I ask that you all be patient with his misguided thoughts.”

  Emilio stepped up to the side of the boat, his plastic smile at odds with the rage burning behind that mask of calm. “Father,” Marco grunted, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. Emilio had just diffused the situation at the expense of Marco’s dignity. I almost had to admire such tact.