by A K Blake
“I have a few...suggestions.”
Keeping hold of her hair, he began to kiss her along her collarbone. His kisses were soft and slow, each one feeling as if it would never come. His lips slowly traveled up, even as the hand on her back went lower, until she gasped in a different way.
“Kaius?”
“Mm?”
“Don’t touch my hair.”
Lifting her chin as forcefully as she could, she grabbed his neck and pulled backward until he let go. Still holding onto him, she brought his mouth down to hers. His lips felt good, hungry. Then, pushing him back with all her strength, she waited for him to fall back on the bed, throwing the sheet away from them and jumping on top.
***
This time, Kaius was gone when she awoke. She had been dreaming of Jedrick, of the happy times, when he was healthy. They’d been working on the reflexor field, though it was mostly her working and him trying to distract her.
She wasn’t surprised that Kaius was gone. She was not a child or a princess, she did not need him to be the first thing she saw. Remembering the liquid velvet of his skin pressed against her, the deft motions of his hips against her hips, she felt a warm fondness spread through her. Yet even still there was a dull feeling in her chest that had little to do with her injuries. She wanted to feel happy. And part of her did. But there was another part, an older, more familiar one that held on with jaws like a rabid dog. It was a part that belonged to Jedrick, one that he didn’t seem to want to let go.
***
Night four was red, representing good health, the Queen’s current state notwithstanding. Iona threw on a deep crimson pantsuit, the high neck and long sleeves effectively covering her bruises, jabbing jewelry through her ears in such a rush that she nearly punctured a new hole. She hadn’t heard from Kaius all night, not that she had been hanging on a message from him. Still, it would have been nice. He did consider himself such a gentleman.
Lux waited in the doorway, leaning against the frame with one hand on her hip to accentuate her silhouette. She was wearing a slinky, form-hugging dress and had dyed her hair auburn to match. On any other night Iona might have forgone makeup in favor of arriving on time, but tonight was not the night to look less than her best. Defiantly, she rammed her feet into her highest heels, barely even grimacing as they shifted under her weight
***
The atmosphere in the great hall was subdued. With everything else that had been happening, Iona had nearly forgotten about Her Majesty’s collapse. There were noticeably fewer guests tonight than on previous nights, and the live band seemed stuck in a permanent playlist of slow songs. Then again, perhaps this was to mask the fact that no one was dancing. There was one decidedly drunk couple swaying off balance in the center of the dance floor, garnering scathing looks all around. Most people just sat and drank, murmuring quietly to one another under the blood-red tinkling of the chandeliers, the authentic rubies casting jagged slashes of red light in all directions. Iona could imagine how this might have seemed festive under different circumstances, but tonight it simply seemed ominous.
Lux tsked with an air of resigned disappointment.
“It’s not as if she’s died or anything. It’s probably just some flu bug going around. People are so dramatic.”
“Mm.”
Yet privately Iona thought they were right to be worried. There was a numb feeling when she remembered Basilla falling, a feeling that eclipsed even her emotions about Kaius, although they came rushing back as she glimpsed him across the room, deep in conversation with someone. She looked away too quickly to investigate further, not wanting him to catch her staring.
“Boy drama?”
Apparently she was not quick enough. But, then again, Lux had always been faster to pick up on that sort of thing.
“No...”
“Well, not that it’s any of my business, but I’d be careful with that one. He strikes me as the kind of romantic character who doesn’t really know what he wants.”
Iona stiffened. “I think I can handle myself.”
“Well, you know best, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“And do you give yourself such unfiltered advice when it comes to the Duke?”
“Please, that’s work. I know my boundaries. Do you?”
“Like I said, I can handle myself.”
“Yes, dear, well I do hope that’s true.
Iona said nothing. A pregnant silence fell as they sipped their drinks. Lux pressed on.
“Whatever happened to that lover you had back home? The one from Aequus?”
“He died.”
“Dieda, I’m sorry. An accident or…?”
“He was sick.”
“Terrible. To be practically a widow so young. That must have left quite a deep impression on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Still, the funeral must have been difficult.”
There were many times Iona had wished Lux were less busy. She had imagined all the conversations they would have if Lux were to give her undivided attention. Now that she found herself the uncomfortable subject of said attention, she regretted it distinctly. She cleared her throat.
“Actually, I wasn’t there.”
“Weren’t there? Where were you?”
“I was...away. I didn’t want...I couldn’t see him. Not like that.”
“Well, I can’t say I know how that feels, but I’m sure everyone grieves in their own way.” Lux stirred her drink, not looking at Iona. “I’d also imagine that a vampire, young and healthy, who is likely to more than outlive you, would seem like a very safe option after what you’ve been through. I’m not trying to be bossy, though Dieda knows I can come on a bit strong.
“A bit?”
“Just take care that you don’t mistake health for undying love.”
Before Iona could accost her, there was a now-familiar sensation of air against her back.
“And he appears.”
Lux melted from view almost as quickly as a vampire. There was a pause.
“What was that about?”
“What? Nothing.”
“I wasn’t born last night, you know. In fact, I have quite a bit more dating experience than either of you I’ll wager.”
“Oh, and you just love lording that over me. It’s not exactly something to be proud of, you old lecher.”
“I’ll show you who’s a lecher.”
She laughed, though it was a bit forced, sidling away as he grabbed at her. She winced when he nicked her on her bad side.
“Dammit, I’m sorry!”
“For the supposedly superior race, you’re quite the klutz.”
“Hazard of being so old and lecherous, I suppose”
“How much older than me are you?”
“Less than five hundred years for sure.”
“So...three hundred?”
“Please! Probably less than two. How old are you, fifty?”
“Is that a joke?”
“Eighty?”
Iona felt color rise in her cheeks. “Dieda take it, you’d better be kidding. If you’d got so much experience, I’d hope you know something about human ages!”
“Relax, I know how old you are. I saw your file, remember?”
“Maybe not the best memory to bring up right now. I wouldn’t say that’s helping your case.”
“Right…”
***
It turned out the rest of the ball was overshadowed by the same dour mood. When Her Majesty failed to appear well past her usual hour, a quiet, climbing anxiety seemed to pervade the hall. Guests began to steal away. Iona noticed with trepidation that Sylton was in attendance, but Cleric Ascara’s warnings seemed to have had an effect, because he mostly stayed at the Progressive table. When she looked for him several hours later, he appeared to have left.
She sat alone, drumming her fingers on the bar. Things had been good with Kaius. He had made her laugh, as he always did, and they had chatted over a few drinks and kissed a
few times. Now, however, it was all she could do to lure him back to her bed. He couldn’t seem to tear himself away from an old vampire in a velvet tunic with gem encrusted buttons. But really, what was she doing? When she tallied it up, there were many reasons for not continuing this...whatever it was, starting with that first fateful meeting in the forest. Meanwhile, there were very few she could conjure up for repeating the ardent actions of the previous day. It was a bad idea, all the data said so. Even in her gut she knew it.
“Do you want to walk back together?” Lux stopped by in a thoughtful show of solidarity. “The Duke didn’t even come out tonight, that handsome coward.”
“I think I’m going to...stay for a little bit.”
Lux’s expression changed almost imperceptibly, but Iona had gotten good at reading her. She smiled, but there was no hint of her gap tooth.
“Alright, then. Well, have a good day.”
“Thanks, Lux. You as well.”
After another twenty minutes, however, the ice in her drink melting and creating a pool condensation across the bar, she gave up. Sending Kaius a curt message on her spore, Iona gathered her remaining dignity and swept from the hall.
***
On her way back, the corridors were practically deserted, most of the guests having trickled out more than an hour before. Her steps echoed loudly against the stone walls. The shadows seemed starker than usual against the pristine surfaces of white granite and marble. Though there no reason in particular, Iona had a strange feeling as if she were not alone, the breeze ominous and cool against the back of her neck. She fought the urge to look behind her. She knew she was being stupid, it was just the eerie feeling that happens when a usually busy place is empty. Eyes forward, back straight. It was a night like any other night.
Yet, later she wondered, had she paid more heed to that elusive feeling of being watched, would it have done her any good? If she had looked back, would she have glimpsed any signs that something was amiss? If she had returned to the ball, played the damsel and waited for Kaius, would she have been safe or would the inevitable simply have been delayed? They were questions she asked herself many times in the weeks and months that follow but never arrived conclusively at an answer. Perhaps if she had trusted her paranoia, nothing would have happened. Yet, it might have simply happened a different way or on a different night. There was really no way of knowing.
***
Reaching her room, Iona swiped her palm against the digipad, and the door slid open. She waited for it to slide shut as she leaned down to take off her shoes. The pressure points of her feet felt as if they had been rubbed across a hot plate. Stumbling a little as she worked the second one off, she froze when she felt something brush against her. Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, she straightened up and turned back toward the door. It was still open, the panel just now beginning to slide closed, but there was no one there. The empty doorway gaped at her.
“Kaius?”
She turned back to the room, and her heart, which had been beating so fast, slowed to a crawl. There was a hiss as the door finally slid shut. Someone had indeed entered her room, but it was not Kaius there so late. Sylton was standing at her bedside dresser with his back half to her, his head cocked to one side as he examined the clutter of chips and wires spread across the top. Without turning, he spoke.
“I know you think you’re important, protected right now, what with your party job, being giver to the Queen and all that. But the truth is that fortune can change more quickly than you can imagine.” He shifted now, facing her, his arms relaxed at his sides as if they were having a casual conversation. “Your position will be obsolete soon. Cleric Ascara doesn’t want me to harm you while you’re still useful, but I have good information that your services will no longer be required as soon as today. So you can try running back to the priest, but I doubt it would do you much good, even if you were fast enough. Better to try running away.”
He shrugged, smiling in a way that sucked all warmth from the gesture. “Just a friendly piece of advice from one dead man to the next. Although, in your case, I’m afraid, you won’t be coming back.”
There was no time to process such cryptic ramblings. As he finished, he began to walk toward her, and Iona bolted, throwing herself backward and ramming the door button with her elbow. But he was too quick. Crossing the tiny space before she could draw breath, he lifted her by her shoulders with ease. Iona screamed into the empty corridor as the door began to slide open, but there was no one to hear her, and within seconds he’d closed it again. Looking at her in mock disappointment, he shook his head.
“I had thought of offering you one last chance to give blood the easy way. Call it a goodwill gesture for your little boyfriend in the compound. But then I thought what fun it would be to take it by force, really get a chance to test out this remarkable strength and speed, and I’ll admit I was on the fence.”
“My...Kaius? He’s on his way here now. You’d better let me go, before—"
“Not that prissy idiot. He doesn’t scare me, even if you weren’t bluffing. You remember your other lover, surely you haven’t had that many. Sickly, lovestruck, human. Let’s see, what was his name? Jed something.”
Even in the midst of her struggle, Iona froze. She felt as if all the air had been sucked from her body at once. Her voice, when she could speak, escaped in a hoarse whisper.
“Jedrick?”
“Ah yes, Jedrick, that was it. How could I forget? We weren’t exactly close, but still, now that I see you haven't been true, I’ll admit it does ease my conscience. He used to call your name in his sleep, you know. Much good it did him. Though now I see what a truly amenable girl you are. No wonder he liked you. You’ve made my decision much easier.”
He smiled again, this time extending his fangs, so that they gleamed wickedly in the dim light. His pupils grew larger, dark orbs inside his head. Knowing it was her last chance, Iona made to run across the bed, but it was futile. He reached her halfway through the motion, pinning her in the center. She flung her arm over the edge, fumbling with the top drawer of the dresser as his fangs entered her neck.
Two raw points of fury beared down, the fire spreading from the epicenters until it engulfed her brain. She was burning. She couldn’t think straight. It was nothing like using a veinguard, no analgesic, nothing so civilized as medicine. There was a wall of noise that pressed against her eardrums, and it was only when she felt a rough hand clamp down across her mouth that she realized she had been screaming.
There was a gulping, slurping sound in one ear and the hot and cold of his breath against her neck. She felt something warm and wet trickle down and begin to gather in the collar of her suit. So much blood, it was too much. The ceiling above her began to spin, even as the chemical from the bite began to sink in, and she experienced a jarring moment of euphoria.
Gathering her wits, she knew that these few moments might be her last remaining ones of clarity. She had no idea how much blood she had lost, but she felt cold now even with a vampire body against hers, and he didn’t seem to be able to stop, or worse, didn’t want to. Slowly, clumsily, she scrabbled against the the dresser again with her free hand until she managed to catch the handle of the top drawer and pull it out in an awkward sideways motion. Inside she brushed against several pieces of junk before she found what she was looking for.
It was heavy and not easy to pull out. She nearly dropped it down the side of the bed when her hand suddenly swung free but held on at the last. Fumbling for the activation switch, Iona felt a jarring vibration as the pulsor knife hummed to life. Taking one last uneven breath, she gathered her strength and plunged it awkwardly into the side of vampire’s chest.
It was a poor jab, but the knife did most of the work. The pulsor effect was like a localized bomb going off. Sylton glowed for a moment, his ribs and spine outlined against the pulp of his organs as the portable reflexor field exploded inside him. He seized as if electrocuted, his fangs ripped from her neck as h
is head jerked backward, leaving two searing lines of pain as they went. Bits of him were flung outward by the force of the explosion, coating Iona and her bed in thick, viscous matter.
Something about the expression on his face, angry and afraid, made the cogs that had been turning in Iona’s brain finally latch, and she knew what had been bothering her, remembered where she had seen him before.
As she began to lose consciousness, blood seeping quickly from her jugular, it niggled at her. She needed to remember it later, something important…
Chapter 18
Walking back to Iona’s quarters, Kaius was tired. It had been a longer night than usual, the bags under his eyes practically flapping in the wind, but he felt good about what he’d accomplished. It hadn’t been as easy as he’d expected to find someone who witnessed the scene the night before, when Iona was attacked in the middle of the dance. Considering it had been so public, he would have thought it would be good gossip, but no one seemed to have noticed. He guessed that just showed the state of vampire-human relations in Laemia: a royal giver could be assaulted by someone from another political party in the middle of the Queen’s jubilee, and nobody thought a thing of it. Eventually, though, he’d found someone who still couldn’t give him the name of the attacker, but they had given him another one: Ascara. He should have known that creepy cleric would be involved somehow.
From there it should have been easy, but the Cleric was always cagey, and he seemed particularly unwilling to give out any information regarding the matter, saying simply that it had been “dealt with.” Yet, after enough pestering, he’d let slip the name of the vampire. Sylton. Kaius had looked him up in his rooms, but he had been out, so instead he’d settled for sending him a threatening message. That was Kaius for you, taking care of business. He felt his chest puff out a bit at the thought.
However, it did bother him that Iona had left the ball without him. A voice in the back of his mind made him question whether he should have been transparent with her about what he was doing from the start, but he shook it off. It was too late now anyway, and he’d wanted to be sure it was done before he spoke with her.
