“I’m sure you didn’t,” Dusana growled, stepping in front of Valek and Charlotte.
“Yes, we’ve heard of your tabloid,” Jorge added, doing the same until there was a wall of Vampires between the swamp creature and Charlotte.
“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Quipp, looking abashed.
“Has your news source ever once given an unbiased interview?” jeered Sasha, puffing out his chest to appear even larger.
“We only report the truth! I assure you!” Salazar’s voice remained jubilant, his mouth gaping.
“Was it the truth when you reported that our kind massacred entire human cities in one night?” Jorge snapped.
“Was it the truth when you reported we were stealing Elvin children from their beds?” added Dusana.
Salazar’s smile fell a bit, but didn’t disappear completely. “Fellows! Fellows! Today is your chance to make right! I apologize if you felt our various reports were…misinformed, but…this is your golden opportunity! Here stands before you the very editor in chief.”
Unfolding the tripod and fixating the camera over it, the scummy man pulled out a moist notepad from his belt.
“Care to share a few words about what life as a blood-feeder is really like, then?” he said, hope glistening in his eyes. “Tell us…how’s life now that you’re no long barred by the Regime? Are the nights insatiable, or do you limit yourselves to one or two bodies…”
Charlotte couldn’t quite tell if this man was daft or just awful.
This time, Charlotte tugged Valek by his sleeve. “Come on, Valek. You were right. We should leave.”
Salazar squawked even louder this time: “VALEK? Valek Ruzik himself?”
The camera flash exploded again, stunning Valek into an abrupt stillness.
“Splendid! Simply splendid! The Dreaded Vampire Ruzik…come out of hiding!” He spoke the unofficial title with his swampy finger in the air like it was his next headline. “Oh it is my lucky day!”
“No,” Valek commanded.
Charlotte shoved her hand out to Salazar Quipp. “Please don’t—”
He snapped another picture. “Pane Ruzik, if you’ve got a moment for a quick word—”
“I SAID NO!” Valek roared and the whole square fell silent.
Mr. Třínožka, who’d been welcoming more people into the store with sample bags of his special teas looked at once toward the source of the hubbub. Even Edwin’s curious face poked out from the shop’s entry. So did Sarah, her expression more than furious, her pink lips pursed.
Salazar Quipp looked stupefied with his hand stretched over his chest.
“I have the mind to smash that idiotic contraption at my feet, but I wouldn’t want you reporting that in your next article,” Valek growled quietly. He laced his fingers through Charlotte’s and muttered down at her, “We are going.”
Though his voice was low, it still felt loud enough for the entire crowd to hear, stunned silent by the interruption. Even the music silenced.
“My apologies, Anansi…Edwin….” Nodding at the two, his glare on fire, his hand squeezing tighter around Charlotte’s. “We’ll see you at home.”
Mr. Třínožka and the rag boy both glanced at one another in a heartbroken way as Valek pulled Charlotte toward the outer ring of the crowd and beyond the center’s clock tower.
After some moments, they were a safe distance away from eager stares, hidden behind the alcoves of some shopping arcades.
“Please slow down!” she protested, tripping over small mounds of snow.
“Sorry.” He fell back a step, giving her the chance to catch her breath.
“Tell me. Why is the Weekly Cackle here?” Her eyes stung. “Really.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Valek seethed. “That Salazar Quipp is after a much different story. He knew. He knew you’d be here. It was a ridiculous idea to come home. We are far too visible. We should not have come back.” His muttering grew so quiet she strained to hear him.
“But how would someone like him know? Who would tip him off?” Surely it wasn’t the remaining members of the Regime. Aiden and his family were quite proud. She couldn’t imagine they’d enjoy having details of their defeat plastered all over the presses—the fact that Valek had won and was still at large and living a happy life with Charlotte at home.
“There are still sympathizers. They will want us exposed. Not to mention dead.” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. “No one is to be trusted. Coming home was not a good idea. We should still be in hiding. I was a fool for thinking otherwise.”
Her breath hitched. Somewhere in hiding? They had nothing left but home.
“What else is there, Valek? Where else would we go?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I don’t want to leave again.” A tear escaped. She didn’t want it to, turning and dashing it away before he could see.
He turned his wild glare on her, but the rest of him softened.
“Lottie…” He brushed his palm over her damp cheek. He sighed. “I apologize. If anyone took you away from me again…” he trailed off. Pushing the hair from her face, he went on to say, “If we have to leave, it would be for the best. And it would be temporary.”
“But this…this is home—”
“No it isn’t.” He almost smiled.
The way the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly did something to ease the heaviness in her chest.
“Home isn’t made of walls or floors or…even bookshelves. Home is right here….” He pressed his index finger against her sternum. “Home is always right here.”
He started to retract his hand, but she grasped onto his wrist and held him there.
He took one step closer to her, his lips parted—full lips with a plunging cupid’s bow that added to the androgyny of his surreal beauty. From behind them, she could see the tips of his incisors, sharper than the rest of his teeth.
In the sunlight, he was everything she imagined he would be. Despite his deathliness, Valek was full of color. The way he looked at her—the way he moved—it was with the sort of graceful sensuality she wished she possessed. He was a god of ice and marble. A devil with diamond teeth and a garnet tongue.
Why didn’t you come to bed last night?
Casting a worried glance over the top of her head, she could tell he was deliberating.
“L-Lottie…I—”
“You’re a world away lately. And every time I want to talk about it, you drift further. Just…tell me the truth.”
“A lot is weighing on me now. The war is far from over. And I am afraid—” He touched the ends of her curls, his eyes still distant. “Charlotte, there were nights just a short time ago that I… almost hurt you. And part of me wanted to. Then they took you away. I never thought I’d see you again. And now... your pain… what happened last night…. These things are ominous indeed. For the first time, I do not have the right answer.”
Charlotte thought back to a particular night in Francis’ home. The searing pain at the side of her throat. It came out of nowhere. Sarah found some information about an ancient curse in an old book, but Charlotte didn’t want to believe it was the problem affecting her now. Fixation, Sarah called the disease: Law One always at the ready—guarding the knowledge of magic from mortal kind. Charlotte had been fed on. Now Valek needed to decide; change her or let her die.
Preposterous.
“It could be real, Charlotte,” Valek said, responding to her thought.
“It’s nonsense,” she rushed to say. “It’s got to be something else. Some deficiency. Stress-related.”
“I fear it will get worse,” Valek went on.
“There’s no way,” Charlotte argued. She took both of his hands in hers, dragging her thumb over the chilled, snake-scale texture of his skin. “It just sounds ridiculous. Fixation,” she repeated the word from her memory. “It’s not real.”
“If I ever lost you again, I—”
“You won’t.” She winced, realization washing
over her. “Is that why you’ve been so far away from me?”
“What do you mean?” But she could tell he feigned ignorance once again.
“You know what I mean. You don’t—I was worried that you no longer—” The words were difficult to get out. “You never talk to me. Like, really talk to me. I was worried that you didn’t…” She inhaled deeply, summoning whatever courage stored in her guts. “That you didn’t feel the same anymore. I was worried you changed your mind about me, or that you felt we made a mistake, or maybe…you still just want me to be…Lottie.” She exhaled, relieved she’d forced out the truth plaguing her for weeks, but nervous about how he might reply.
Before she could say another word, his fingers wound in her curls, pulling her to his chest. Her heart jolted to life. Leaning up on her toes, she hooked her arms around his neck, pressing against him as firmly as she could. Releasing her hair, his broad arms circled around her middle, constricting her like a python. She wanted him to kiss her. But he didn’t.
“Charlotte, please understand,” he began, his voice pained as he rested his chin atop her head.
It was the first time in weeks he was so close.
But Sarah had been right…because it came again—the pain.
It happened whenever he got too close.
A sound burst from her own mouth unlike anything she’d ever heard. A terrible hissing escaped from her core. She didn’t mean to. She couldn’t contain the agony, nor the sweltering burgeoning in her ribcage. It was worse than yesterday, flaring up the side of her face, in her ears, and down her shoulder.
Whimpering, she collapsed to her knees.
“Charlotte?”
Clawing at the snow, she wanted to curl up in a ball and disintegrate. She squeezed her eyes shut against the shrill note that brought a pulse to her eardrum. Something oozed slickly from the inside of her ear. Blood. Her fingertips, stained red, doubled in her vision. Her lungs were stiff, the air suddenly too thick to swallow. Her mouth was open. Her back arched.
Valek was beside her at once. He appeared blurry. The entire pathway—the trees, the sun, the snow—it was all hazy again. His mouth moved, that she could tell, but she couldn’t hear what he said. The ringing was still so loud.
Balling her fingers up in the gravel and snow, she cried out, unsure of how loud she was. Maybe she wasn’t making any sound at all.
Her face was soaked with tears and sweat. Her whole body smoldered as she fought against passing out. If she allowed everything to go black, it might be the last time.
And then there were teeth.
Four razor-sharp blades plunged deep into her flesh at the core of the immolation. Suddenly, a tidal wave of arctic water washed over her, smothering the fire. She peeked through heavy lids. His hair surrounded her in a dark veil, his snowy lips on her skin, pulling.
Her fingers went numb. Her head swam. Warmth spread through her stomach and between her legs. Electric pleasure. There was that familiar vacuuming sensation—the wet slosh of her heartbeat—her will to survive. She knew she would. Valek knew how to restrain now.
He pulled away, some of her blood staining the snow beneath them a deep, sultry wine. Smears of it remained at the corner of his mouth and across his chin, his face contorted with horror.
“Charlotte? Charlotte!” He shook her. Finally, his voice was audible, sounding distant though growing steadily clearer. “Charlotte…” he panted. “Are you alright?”
Tears continued to spill but she couldn’t say anything out loud.
Sarah’s right, she thought at him.
Her forehead and the back of her neck were damp, her mouth dry. Tears welled until more spilled down her face. Her hands shook, the ends of her fingers still tingly.
Fixation. The curse. Everything the book said was right. I have it.
Pressing her palm against her still-bleeding neck punctures, her mind spun. She felt her skin stretch under her hand, the bite healing in a matter of seconds. The venomous medicine in Valek’s saliva covered up any indicator he’d been there at all.
Valek pulled her up in his arms, eyes on fire as he held here there in the snow. “We will find a solution.”
She felt his arms quivering around her.
Questions turned to white noise in her mind:
Did this mean death? Would he change her? Did they have a choice?
CRACK!
Another burst of white light flooded her consciousness and created spots in her vision.
Valek lobbed away from her, growling like an animal.
“The truth about Vampires? That’s what you said you wanted me to publish?” Salazar Quipp simpered darkly from somewhere nearby. “Got you,” he said in a tone laced with malevolence before he vanished into a cloud of gray swamp-mist.
Valek roared, bolting toward the smoky plume, but he was too late—hand reaching into the vortex. Time and energy shoved him hard enough away that he skidded back half a meter through the slush.
Charlotte pushed up from the ground, hand still pressed to her scar, sticky with blood.
Back in the square, joyous sounds of celebration continued.
“You are sick,” Valek admitted. “And we have to leave.”
Western European Magic Court
“This is an embarrassment!” Cinder Price shrieked, throwing up her arms, which made the scullery maids at either side of her flinch and duck out of the way. “You said you’d keep this quiet!”
Danek Price looked small and silly seated between Cinder’s father, Balder, and his much larger brother, Dag.
Irish Elves were undersized when compared to the goliaths of Norway. Even though Danek still towered over most of the women in the castle, he could not compete with Dag’s bolder-like arms or Balder’s chest, rugged and broad like a mountainside.
“I-I’m sorry.” Danek’s voice shook. “I have no control over what the news media—”
“Listen to me, Danek!” Cinder roared closer to his face. “I will not allow those of us still in charge to be made a mockery of. Not only is your son’s failure plastered all over occult presses, now the Dreaded Vampire Ruzik has become this celebrated figure!” she scoffed. “Like some child’s bedtime story! It’s ridiculous!” She slapped the face of the newspaper and cast it to the floor of the medical wing.
Every morning was the same—the entire family went to visit Aiden Price who still lay lifeless in his sterile bed with white linen sheets. His skin was grey now. Purple circles cradled his eyes that didn’t even open with the sounds of his mother’s persistent crying. It had been weeks, and he hadn’t so much as wiggled a finger.
Clicks and clacks of pudgy, redheaded Meredith Price’s relentless pacing rippled up and down the checkered corridor. The noise drove Cinder to madness. One more clack, and she’d be ready to yank out her yellow braids from her own head to hang herself with.
“Why don’t you have a seat…d-dear,” prompted Danek as he eyeballed Cinder, seemingly noticing her growing agitation.
But Meredith ignored him, chewing on her nails, her gaze distant and watery. She’d been muttering things like, “My baby…they’ve destroyed my baby…” for months, impossible to console with neither cups of tea nor words.
They’d tried to pass her off to the psych wing but Meredith refused, demanding to remain as close by Aiden’s side as possible.
“Aiden’s stupid face on the front page! Paraded as a sniveling child in front of your entire district!” Cinder continued, face hot with rage.
She swirled her bearskin cloak off her shoulders and turned to lean slightly out an open window. She closed her eyes and let the cold wind calm her before scouring over the evergreen forests of Romsdalen.
Snow dusted over the rolling sea of tree tops. A silvery river cut the forest below their chateau in half as it sat perched high up against the side of an enormous mountain.
Cinder inhaled the crisp air deeply.
Since the Price family arrived on her doorstep, she’d kept a close eye on how things were
transpiring. Maids to delivered various periodicals to her chambers along with breakfast—it was an order. Upon being presented with that morning’s headlines, she’d ordered all the windows open…desperately needing to cool off her mind working on overdrive now.
“How could you let a bunch of parasites defeat the fearsome cabinet of the great Wizard Vladislov of the Carpathians?” she snapped angrily. “Such an illustrious man. Surely, he’s turning over in his grave so much even the maggots in his ears are dizzy!”
Danek tucked his chin to his chest and sighed, “He was feeble—”
“And Aiden!” She glared back at him over her shoulder shielded by a bronze plate.
“—was weak-minded…” Danek continued.
“Your son? Weak-minded? Ha! He’s the most stubborn ass I’ve ever met. Just like your brother…”
“His judgment was clouded,” Danek explained.
“Clouded?”
Cinder wheeled at him again, blood coming to a boil at the base of her esophagus. His excuses ignited more fury with every syllable he spoke. She thought about drawing her blade and lobbing off his head.
“With what? Horse manure? Weeds? Mushrooms…or whatever it is you fancy over there in those backwoods you call a country?”
“If Fallon were here—”
“If Fallon were here, he’d laugh in your face before finishing off that weakling son of yours and throwing your wife and the rest of your spoilt children to the wolves!”
Meredith turned horrified eyes on Cinder, however Cinder really didn’t care much about what the blubbering woman thought.
“That wasn’t the sort of man Fallon was…” Danek argued.
“That was the sort of man she made of him!” Balder jabbed his thick finger at Cinder, his great orange beard shaking. “A man! One who never cowered in the presence of shadows.”
It was a struggle for him to cross one tree-trunk-sized leg over the other, but he did. He leaned back in his chair which groaned under his weight.
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