Thirst for Vampire (Kingdom of Blood and Ash Book 2)

by D. S. Murphy

“We are gathered here today...” I tuned him out and focused on where I was going. For a moment, I thought I was lost, but then I found the small alley that led to the narrow courtyard beneath my bedroom window. Where I’d seen Penelope get captured, and found the vial of blood she’d left me. I took a deep breath, hoping my memory hadn’t deceived me. My eyes trailed a path, up the drainage pipe, across the roof. I’d have to jump from one building to Damien’s, but the gap was only a few feet across. Then I could lower myself down to the window.

  I knew Claire often left it open so the bedsheets could dry in the afternoon. I hoped it wasn’t locked, but even if it was, breaking the window would be easier than busting down the front door.

  My heart was pounding just thinking about the climb, but I took a deep breath to steady myself, then reached into my cloak for the vial of elixir. It was only for emergencies, but I could use a sip to settle my resolve. I uncorked the bottle and took a swig, feeling the elixir tingle on my tongue and the back of my throat.

  Liquid courage flooded through my veins, and before I could talk myself out of it, I gripped the drain and started climbing. I winced as the metal creaked against my weight. It shifted as I neared the top, but thankfully held long enough for me to grab the ledge of the roof and pull myself up. I kept my center of gravity low and crept across the tiled rooftop. Movement and a flash of red made me duck. I flattened myself behind a chimney as I realized the king had stationed guards up here as well. One wrong turn and somebody would see me and send up a warning.

  I held my breath, waiting for the guard to turn around again. I crept along the edge of the roof, then lowered myself and swung forward until my toes reached the ledge of my window. I slowly reached under the overhang for purchase against the stones of the building, trying not to look down. My bedroom was in one of the towers, and while a fall probably wouldn’t kill me, the height was dizzying. The elixir kept the panic away but there was still a kind of mental dissonance, like I knew I should be more scared and it was weird that I wasn’t.

  Unfortunately the window wasn’t unlocked like I’d hoped. I slowly reached into my coat for the wooden stake and used it to shatter the window pane. Then I reached in past the jagged broken glass and unclipped the latch to open the window. I lowered myself inside and closed the window quietly behind me, just in time to see another guard come into view over the rooftop. He scanned the view carefully, but didn’t seem to notice the broken pane of glass. After a moment, with his hand on the grip of his sword, he turned back towards the wedding proceedings. I listened for a minute longer, making sure the ceremony was still on track, then took a deep breath to slow my pounding heart.

  My room was basically as I’d left it. My eyes lingered on the thick mattress and comfortable white sheets and quilt, but I didn’t have time for a nap. The closet was still full of my clothes – or at least the clothes Damien had procured for me after my choosing. I wrestled with whether or not to take anything, but finally decided nobody would miss a few pairs of underwear and three dark T-shirts. The stores in the rebel’s underground mall had been picked clean, so whatever was left was several sizes too big and not nearly as comfortable as these. I tucked them in my bag before continuing deeper into the house.

  It was hard to believe I’d only been gone a little over a week. It felt like much longer. I finally made it to Damien’s study and pushed open the door. What I saw took my breath away. The study was a mess, with papers all over the desk and floor, half-melted candles and books in disarray. In the corner was an easel, with a portrait drawn in rough charcoal that hooked my gaze. A portrait of me. There were at least a dozen others, in pastel or watercolor, pinned up against the wall with knives and thumbtacks.

  There was also a pile of empty whiskey bottles, and a strong-smelling water pipe made of tin and blue glass.

  My eyes scanned the shelves to find the volume I’d seen last time, and my heart nearly stopped when I recognized the empty space in the shelf where it should have been.

  It wasn’t here.

  But then I saw it poking out from under a pile of books on Damien’s desk and breathed a sigh of relief.

  A note fell out from the pages, sprawled in Damien’s elegant script next to a splatter of black ink.

  The key to the cure.

  It looked like Damien and I were searching for the same thing. But if so, why hadn’t he gone out and retrieved the chest himself? Was he afraid to oppose his father, or still too loyal to his own kind? After all, if we got the cure, we’d have the power to destroy the elite, or at least make them mortal again.

  It was John Patten’s dream, one the king had killed him for. He’d destroyed an entire compound just to make sure it was buried with him. Now that the king knew I was renitent, he’d never stop hunting me. I was too dangerous, the only human alive who could resist his compulsion. And the elixir was the only way to stop him.

  I flipped the book open to reveal the hidden compartment between the pages and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the key. It was exactly as I remembered it—thick, iron, with a decorative top and tied with a shiny red ribbon. I quickly slipped it in my pocket. The book’s pages fluttered open to a different page that had been earmarked, and my eyes fell to the passage which Damien must have read a hundred times. Next to it was a complex schematic of an engine.

  Scrawled in the margins was a note.

  These Infernal Devices…

  I read it again in confusion. Why would Damien have these? I could tell he was suffering, but would he really go so far to hurt his own father, or his own kind? I felt a pain in my heart, thinking about him, locked up in this room all alone, as the citadel prepared for the wedding.

  Dread filled my veins as I studied the plans. Without the elite to fix the purification engines, and enough elixir to counter the poisonous ash, humans would all have to go underground. I’d be forcing thousands of people out of their homes, to live like the rebels. Was that really in everyone’s best interests, or was I being selfish?

  I pushed the thought away, then tore the page from the book. I wasn’t sure what it was yet, but I grabbed it anyway before heading to door. I’d just put my hand on the brass handle when someone else turned it from the other side.

  7

  I ducked behind the bookshelf just as the door swung inwards. A figure crept into the room, swiveling her neck before heading straight for a shelf full of pens and ink. She pulled a container from her cloak’s pocket and placed it back on the shelf. It looked like elixir at first, but it was bright red and there was so much of it. She wasn’t stealing, she was returning. I saw her face when she turned to leave. Claire, her face ashen and full of worry. I should have just stayed hidden, but I had to know what was happening.

  I jumped out and covered her mouth with my hand to stifle her scream, then spun her around so she could see my face. Her eyes widened and she stopped struggling.

  “Don’t yell, it’s just me.”

  She nodded, and I slowly removed my hand.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I said, nodding towards the container of red ink. “What did you need that for, and why now – during the wedding?”

  “It’s the only time I could be sure he wouldn’t be home.” Realization dawned on her face. “Is that why you’re here too? Whatever it is, it’s not worth the risk. You need to leave, immediately. It’s gotten worse since you’ve been gone, people are disappearing, he doesn’t even go through the farce of public trials anymore. Justice is swift and decisive.”

  “And yet you risk everything, for what?”

  Her expression steeled. I’d always considered her a timid girl, but for the first time I saw a glimpse of the ferocious woman developing inside.

  “Freedom comes at a cost. Someone has to pay it.”

  I wondered if she was reciting something from the rebels, or if they were her own words. Either way, it seemed there were still dissenters inside th
e walls.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she trembled. I glanced down at her hands and saw they were stained red, like mine, with patches of jagged marks creeping up her wrists.

  “Claire, what exactly did you do?”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You were already gone, we needed a distraction, Madam Brezing thought it would be a good idea,” she said, holding up her hands and turning them so I could see the thorny patterns.

  “You need to leave. I can wash these off, but you can’t. If they find you, it’ll be worse than with Penelope. Just stay away from the stage.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. I knew she was right. This was exactly what Damien had been afraid of. If I was caught here, his father would force him to kill me. I remembered Tobias’s tortured face in the woods. I couldn’t let that happen to Damien. From the state of his private study, he was already suffering from my absence. This could break him.

  The stage. My eyes widened as I realized Damien was still up there, along with the remaining chosen. I hadn’t seen Jamie or Loralie, but for all I knew they could be up in front, where the king could keep an eye on them. Whatever was going to happen in the citadel, it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe there was still time to stop it.

  “What did you do?” I asked, shaking her shoulders. “What about the ceremony?”

  “There are always sacrifices in war.”

  She spoke this with a cruel detachment, almost hatred. I briefly remembered the bite marks I’d seen on her neck once, at breakfast. At the time, I’d assumed it was Damien, but now I questioned it. Unlike me, she’d grown up in the citadel. I couldn’t imagine the horrors she’d seen over the years.

  “What if it were me up there,” I asked, more softly this time. “As it was supposed to have been?”

  “Then your honeymoon would have been a short affair,” she said coldly.

  I shoved Claire out of the way and raced down the stairs. I didn’t have time to go back over the rooftops. I had my gloves on and my hood up, but everyone was so fixated on the ceremony, they wouldn’t see me even if I were standing right in front of them.

  All the chosen were on stage now, next to their elite matches. I paused to scan the crowd and couldn’t help taking in some of the spectacle. The girls were wearing long, teal dresses and bridal veils, and the elite in handsome white suits. They were reciting vows, following after the head curate, who had a staff and a round cap pinned to his nest of coiled hair. His gold eyelashes fluttered as he recited the liturgy, in flowing purple robes. Then King Richard raised his hands, his gold crown sparkling, and announced, “you may now feed the bride. Blood of our race, given freely to our beloved choice.”

  The girls responded, “blood of our race, given freely to feed your strength.”

  Then, as one, the elite, using a silver, barbed thimble like I’d seen Damien use, punctured their wrists and held their arm up for their chosen to drink. I watched with morbid fascination. This wasn’t the distant, theoretical practice of the renewal centers of my youth, where the curate would place a drop of elixir on my tongue and tell us stories about the Before and how King Richard had saved everyone. This was visceral and raw.

  A few of the chosen hesitated, Mary among them, but most latched on immediately, taking a few greedy sips before assistants gently pulled them away, holding up their hair and handing the elite a small cloth to wipe the wound. Some of the brides had blood around their mouths, which dripped onto their pale dresses; blossoming through the thin material and forming large, intricate rose petals of dark crimson. It looked like an engineered effect, rather than an accident, and the crowd clapped in response. Everyone was smiling, and even Jessica looked happy – triumphant.

  I wondered if she’d also been named Champion in my absence. It seemed so long ago now that I’d wanted to win, to save my mother. Part of me was jealous to be missing out. And there was another part of me, hidden deeper, that was envious of the elixir. I could smell it, even at this distance – I could see it in the bright sheen of their skin and the light in their eyes. I licked my lips, I could almost taste it.

  But then I glanced through the crowd. There was a heightened anticipation, an eagerness as they leaned forward hungrily, waiting for whatever came next. I saw movement, and caught a glimpse of a stained wrist or palm, jagged crimson on white fingertips, followed by the flash of steel. The rebels were here, and whatever was about to happen, it was now. I had to get everyone off the stage.

  A pair of large oil lanterns were hanging on either side of the stage. I grabbed the wooden stake from beneath my cloak and flung it as hard as I could. It pierced the center of the lantern, spilling oil and fire onto the stage. It swept across the platform and even lit a couple of the bride’s dresses on fire. The decorations exploded in flame, leaping to the large paper swans and creating a burning tunnel of feathers and dark black smoke.

  Screams came from the audience as they charged away from the flames, covering their mouths with their sleeves. The guards drew their weapons, while the elite pulled their chosen off the stage. The wooden platform was an unfortunate choice, in retrospect – it went up like a bonfire. But at least the stage was clear. I was halfway back to join the others when the bomb went off. The stage exploded into flame and smoke. I felt the heat on my back but didn’t turn around.

  “Go!” I shouted, as soon as the others could see me. I knew the citadel would go into lockdown almost immediately. If we weren’t past the gate by then, we’d be trapped. We ran towards the nearest exit; a smaller side entrance just past the stables.

  We were nearly there when someone grabbed my wrist. I spun around with my stake, prepared to strike – but faltered when I saw it was just Mary, in her pale, bloody wedding dress. Her eyes were wide, manic, and she twisted my arm painfully.

  “You,” she accused, her eyes narrowing. “The others, they told me what happened. That you let me fall so you could win the trials. They saw it. Everybody saw it. You let me go.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I said, pulling my arm away. “Someone was compulsing you, using you to try and kill me.”

  “It’s always about you. Even now, on my wedding day, you have to spoil everything. But not this time. This time, I’m going to stop you.”

  She lashed out, surprisingly fast, and her first punch cuffed my ear and left it ringing. I blocked the next three, but had to step backwards with the force of each punch. She’d been practicing, hard from the look of it, and the extra elixir in her blood, fresh from the source, made her wild and unpredictable. I heard clanking noises as the gate began closing, but breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the others were already outside.

  I didn’t want to hurt Mary, but she was too agitated to listen or let me explain, and we were drawing a crowd fast. Already I could see the king’s armored guard running in our direction. I didn’t have time for this. I punched Mary so hard blood streamed from her nose, then jabbed the stake into her abdomen.

  She gasped in surprise as blood poured past her fingers. Then her eyes rolled back in her head. I caught her and lay her down gently, praying there was enough elixir in her system to heal the wound before it did real damage.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, stroking her hair. Guards were pouring in from either side, dozens of them clogging up the stairs, forming a wall of jagged spears around me. I looked out across the blazing remains of the stage and saw Damien in the distance, his face red from the smoldering embers and glowing hot sparks. Suddenly he sniffed, his eyes wide. He stood quickly, searching the ramparts. He looked up in confusion and our eyes met briefly.

  I knew he could close the gap in seconds, and leap up the ramparts in a single bound. I wished I could ask him about my siblings, but there was no time. The key hung heavy in my pocket. We only had one shot at this, and time had run out.

  I was too slow to outrun the elites, and there was no way I could make it through all the guards to the city gates. I glanced over my shoulder at the drop off past th
e wall behind me.

  It was probably a hundred feet straight down, then a rocky cliff and boulders to the edge of the forest. When I’d jumped over the walls during the trials, I’d had nearly ten drops of elixir in my system, and I’d been going the other way.

  Marcus said I was different; too much elixir was fatal to most mortals, but if I was a rare half-breed, I could handle more of it without going crazy. It was harder to measure the dose without my bracelet, but I had to risk it. I tore the vial of elixir out of my pocket and tapped a few drops into Mary’s mouth, just to be safe, then downed the rest.

  I grabbed the edge of a hanging banner and flung myself over the ramparts. Halfway down the banner snagged and I plunged into the air. I stabbed at the rocky surface of the citadel wall with my wooden stake, but it did little to slow my descent. I felt a searing pain in my leg, then my head as I tumbled down the boulders and rolled to a stop at the base of the wall. I crawled forward on my hands and knees until I could suck in a breath, with arrows sinking into the earth around me, then pulled myself to my feet and stumbled into the woods.

  8

  I journeyed back alone for most of the trip, stopping frequently to hide and make sure I wasn’t being followed. I must have run ten miles in under an hour, through the woods like a deer, but the burning in my lungs told me the elixir was mostly gone and I was running on empty. I walked slowly as I entered the ruined city, pulling back my hood and raising my hands, so the snipers on the rooftops didn’t think I was an elite and shoot me. Hopefully they’d been given orders to let me in.

  Trevor was waiting near the entrance, near a lamp. His face broke into relief as he saw me. He ran towards me and pulled me into a hug that lifted me off my feet.

  “Thank god,” he said. “I thought you were right behind us, but then they shut the gate, and we had to run. We waited in the woods but finally figured you must have made it out on your own.”