Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  “Well, she seems… capable enough for now. Your victory is making waves. Maybe that will overshadow your choice of companion,” she finally said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “But if you even think about marrying a non-vampire, I swear, you are disowned faster than you can blink,” she added with disgust.

  Octavian’s mouth fell open, but his mother had already turned around and strutted away. Relief washed over me as I realized that she had just, in her very own way, accepted us.

  I pulled Octavian in, wrapped my arm around his neck and kissed him. His body was still stiff, and he was not fully into it.

  “Did that… just really happen?” he uttered as he pulled back a moment later. “Did we just survive open mutiny against mother?”

  I laughed, then punched his chest playfully. “See, you just had to stand up for yourself. I think she might respect you now, at least a little.”

  He opened his mouth in response, but then straightened up and stiffened, his arms dropping to his side like a soldier on parade. I stared at him in confusion, until I saw the shadow of a woman who had just stepped behind me.

  “At ease,” she said softly, her voice warm and smooth. “I heard you two are responsible for finding and taking down this necromancer?”

  I turned around and stepped beside Octavian, facing the woman. She was dressed in an incredibly intricate, shining armor, a big crescent moon engraved on her chest. Her armor was adorned by black accents, like the rim around her neck, the spikes on her shoulders, and her arm guards. Her hair was as silver as moonlight, bound to a tight bun behind her head. Her eyes were a warm blue, but I could see no weakness or doubt in them. She looked like was friendly because she chose to be, but she came here ready for war.

  I quickly cleared my throat and bowed my head. “Countess.”

  She let her eyes wander over me, then nodded in return. “I thank you for your help in this. Not only for taking down a threat to us all, but for fighting for peace, Miss…?”

  “Raven. And, uhm, you’re welcome,” I quickly added, unsure how to speak to a royal vampire.

  “I suspect I will hear from you again.” She smiled, glancing at Octavian. “I hope it will be of more heroic deeds. As long as it is, I shall consider you a friend of the clan.”

  My mouth fell open in surprise. Being personally honored by the Countess of Clan Dulaire was certainly not what I had expected for today. I quickly closed my mouth andbowed again.

  The Countess then looked at Octavian, studied him for a moment, then added, “I had expected to hear about you, too, Mr. van Cross. And yet, you have exceeded my expectations. You brought together all the factions to save the city. Exemplary.”

  Octavian straightened up even more, and I could almost see him swell with pride. He gave her a short nod, but otherwise remained motionless, only the corners of his mouth twitching.

  She nodded at him, then turned around and drifted away, back to her vampires. As soon as she was out of hearing distance, Octavian stared at me, a wide grin on his face. “I was honored by the Countess herself, and you’ve been named a friend of the clan. What a day.”

  From the corner of my eye I could see his mother glaring at us, her eyes darting between the Countess and me. But right now, I couldn’t care less what she thought.

  I laughed, then pulled him in for another kiss. This time he was into it. His hands roamed my back, and played with my hair, heat surged through me, and I felt my tension falling away as I sank into his arms. I needed this. More that I had thought.

  Now, finally, we had our happy end. With his mother’s approval, there was nothing standing between us.

  When our lips separated again, we stared into each other’s eyes, and I could feel the same desire in him that I could feel in me. Whatever came next, we were going to go through it together. Maybe we could even take some time off, just enjoy this newfound love.

  But before I could suggest anything, I could feel someone watching us. I turned my head and saw Allard standing a few steps to our right. He was smiling, nodding at me as our eyes met. I nodded back, but before he could say something, a vampire appeared next to him. He whispering something into Allard’s ear, and his face darkened.

  When the vampire ran off again, he gestured us to come over. “Keep your expressions calm and your voices down,” he whispered as we reached him. “I was just told the necromancer has been killed. Apparently, one of the vampires who was guarding him suddenly murdered him, then killed the other guard and ran off into the building. The vampires were busy searching the building for more magical artifacts, and now also for the rogue vampire. Davorin and the Crimson Fangs are leading the search, so they should find him soon, but this will complicate things. Politically, at least.”

  “Why?” I gasped. “Why kill him before we had a chance to question him?”

  “That’s exactly why, I guess,” Octavian answered grimly. “I can imagine that they didn’t want to share some information with you, the Elders.”

  Allard sighed. “That’s what I was thinking. Like I said, peace is still some time away. But hopefully, now that the attacker had been caught and killed, we can work on restoring it, work it out peacefully.”

  “Well, I’m here if you need me, Allard,” I answered, a smile on my face. “But I really hope we can get some time to ourselves,” I added as I turned to Octavian, pressing his hand.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Allard grinned, then left us to ourselves.

  “Definitely. They can handle this without us. I think we’ve earned ourselves a little victory celebration,” Octavian whispered, his eyes sparkling with passion.

  “I can’t wait,” I grinned back.

  “But you have to tell me what’s up with that crazy vampire some day. You have no more excuses now!”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s a long story.”

  “We’ve got all night. Though I really hope it doesn’t take up all of it,” he added, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

  My heart fluttered at his innuendo. That was the kind of victory celebration I had hoped for.

  Let’s see if it was true what they said about vampires…

  Epilogue

  Silently, he waited. Crouched between dusty crates and boxes, hidden under a covering canvas. They were coming closer.

  “Search this room. I’ll take the other one,” a man commanded outside the room.

  This was the voice he was waiting for. A smile spread on his face. His heartbeat quickened, but he remained calm. He had done this often enough. But this time, his prey was finally a worthy challenge.

  He couldn’t rush it. He couldn’t risk a fight. It had to be perfect. Swift, clean. A single strike from the shadows.

  Quietly, he had sneaked from room to room, predicting their movements. Tracking his mark. Those vampires were hard to stalk with their incredible senses. But they were victims of their own routines. So predictable. Like mice, cluelessly walking right into his trap.

  Then the door opened. The rusty door hinge creaked in protest. He appreciated this new host. Humans were so fragile, so helpless compared to vampires. He could hear the man’s heartbeat, every breath he took. He could smell his stench. Afraid, worried. No, but too light. The sound of their breathing confirmed his thought—it was a woman.

  And not one of the elites, either. Just a vampire. The elites didn’t have such fear. Certainly not his mark. His mark must have taken the other room. He snarled without even meaning to.

  Damned vampire instincts.

  “Hello?!” The woman’s voice trembled. It would have been barely audible to a human, but with his heightened senses, he could clearly hear the fear in it. She stepped closer, pulling her sword or dagger out just a little.

  He thought about how to play this. He could keep sneaking ahead, hoping to finally get to his mark. But maybe it was time to change his tactic.

  Just lightly, he scratched his boot on the ground. Immediately, the other vampire tensed up, her heartbeat quickening.


  “Is… someone there?” Her voice was just a whisper now. She came closer, carefully, one step after the other.

  Yes, yeees. One more step.

  He saw her reach for the canvas that covered him hesitantly, then slowly pull it back. Her eyes widened as she saw him crouched beneath it for just a moment. Then his dagger pierced her jaw, and buried itself deep into her brain.

  Without a sound, he caught her and eased her to the ground quietly. He gripped her throat as the life left her body, as her last breath escaped her lungs. Without effort, he drew her essence in and drained her body of all life.

  He dumped her in the place where he had just been squatting, carefully curling her up between the crates. She had to be hidden from sight so that no one would ever find her.

  Then he looked at her, scanned her from top to bottom, finally resting his gaze on her face. He closed his eyes. Focusing. Concentrating. Shivers rushed through his body, his skin itching, his muscles revolting. Then, a long moment later, he opened his eyes again.

  He looked down at himself and smiled. His hands were strangely small and delicate, his frame suddenly light and lean, and his light armor was hugging his narrow hips and bust.

  He had rarely taken on a woman’s body, but he wouldn’t need this one for long. As if on command, his ears picked up footsteps coming closer. Firm, confident. They were not sneaking, they were strutting. Heavier than her, too.

  Quickly, he took two steps back and stared at the pile of crates. He opened his eyes wide and hunched down. His hands started shaking just a little, his breath coming short and shallow. Shakily, he drew his dagger, pointing it forward.

  The door swung open. “What happened? Did you find something?” the vampire’s voice sounded through the room, his commanding presence pushing ahead. This was his mark.

  “There, behind the crates. I heard something,” he quivered, his voice strangely foreign. High-pitched, soft. Not the gravelly voice his previous body had.

  The vampire with the star on his chest frowned, then walked up to the crates without hesitation. He wore light leather armor, too. Dressed for combat. But the vampire was at ease, now. Careful, but confident.

  Quickly, he followed the vampire, cowering right behind him. He could almost hear the vampire’s brows furrowing, the confusion taking over his face as he saw the vampire lady’s curled-up corpse. The vampire’s mind must have been racing, trying to make sense of the situation. Why the woman he had just talked to was also dead behind some crates.

  But he didn’t let him react. Silently, he plunged his dagger into the vampire, just between the fourth and fifth rib, piercing his heart flawlessly. A clean stab, right through his armor. Without hesitation, he wrapped his hand around the vampire’s mouth, and held it closed while wrapping his other hand around his throat.

  The vampire struggled, but his efforts were weakened. With a dagger in his heart, his life was rushing out of him already. It didn’t take much to drain every last bit out of him.

  Satisfied, he dropped the body next to the other corpse, then covered them both with the canvas.

  With a smile on his face, he closed his eyes, transforming again. Seconds later, his hands were big and strong, his light armor stretching over his bulky arms and chest. This was a body he could get used to. Strength and confidence permeated him. His muscles were just waiting to strike out, to quench the life out of his next target.

  But not now. Now, he had to practice patience. He walked out, back where the vampire came from. He straightened up, his walk turning into a confident strut almost on its own.

  Memories now rushed through his mind, feelings, emotions. A life of hardship, training, politics. A life planned out for centuries, yet it had ended so abruptly. He felt a pang of pity. Everyone acted like life would go on forever, planning decades ahead. When would they learn to live life while it lasted? He himself was enacting the grandest plan he had ever made, and it barely went half a year into the future.

  After a brief walk, he entered the main hall, where dozens of vampires, witches, and other magical creatures buzzed about. He stood still, letting his eyes roam the hall. Immediately, he was noticed. It was strange feeling for someone so accustomed to working in the shadows, but it would prove useful.

  A handful of people came toward him, and he quickly scanned their faces.

  A witch. An Elder. Memories came flashing through his mind. Some kind of council.

  Another witch, emissary for the council.

  Vampire, Crimson Fang. Kynthia.

  Another. Vampire guard. No name.

  Another Crimson Fang. Another name flashed through his mind, more recent. Octavian. The one who killed the necromancer. A black-haired girl was on his arm, but he had no memory of her. Must be a new vampire.

  “Did you find them?” the first witch asked, his voice filled with worry and uncertainty.

  “I did not,” he answered calmly. “But we will get to the bottom of this, rest assured.” His thoughts had transformed into strangely formal words almost on their own.

  The other witch nodded. “We will find them, I’m sure of it. And hopefully, we can now leave this conflict behind us. There has been enough fighting already.”

  “I agree,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “We will meet again to find answers, but for now, we must leave.”

  He strutted away, the vampires falling in line behind him, following him like lost puppies. He preferred to operate in the dark, hidden in the shadows. But maybe this would work. Hiding in plain sight. He had to be careful, though.

  He smiled to himself as he thought of the scared witches. They would never find the vampire that killed the necromancer. His corpse was well hidden, like the others. But he would send them on false trails. Distract them. Lead them away from the real clues. They would never figure out that something was wrong. That they had been infiltrated

  Unlike the necromancer, he was not an amateur. He had told the Master that. He was not as brutishly direct, but a master of disguise and subtlety. He would execute his plan perfectly, no loose ends, no careless mistakes. The necromancer had never stood a chance. His plan had been doomed to fail from the start.

  But the Master still sent the necromancer first. Maybe he had learned from it.

  Because now, it was his turn. They would never see him coming. Their demise was certain. He would make the Master proud.

  Whoo!

  Hey, thank you so much for reading Raven’s Ascent!

  I hope you enjoyed it – and I would love to read about it in a review! But if you’d rather not publicly post your opinion, that’s fine, too. As long as the book made you smile, I’m happy. :)

  Also, don’t forget to get the free prequel novella:

  https://benblackwellbooks.com/get/prequel

  Until the next book!

  - Ben

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