Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series) (35 page)

That unmistakable aroma, the taste of life. There was blood on the lips and surrounding the mouth of her king. His teeth and tongue were swimming in it. Ordinarily, this would be a delicacy. For a kiss laced
with blood is paramount between immortal lovers. However, this time it wasn’t. The blood was eerily familiar to Mynea. It was the blood of not one but many. Not mortal but vampire.

She began to see the last memories of his latest victims, victims she knew well, victims she had given birth to. Her precious immortal children’s blood filled the veins of her fiend. His beastly appetite for grotesque atrocities persuaded him to forcefully read the minds of most of her children.

She saw Cosmina first. It was a swift and painful death for her. As she slept within the walls of the Sighisoara citadel, he awakened her with his grip around her waist. She arose, stiff, into instant death. Her blood spilled from the vicious deep rending of her neck by his hand, his nails and fingers gripping her jugular and opening it for his liking.

He then searched for another. In the bottom of the adjacent castle, Vlad found Violeta and Stefania. He descended upon them both simultaneously while they were in the midst of a succulent moment. They welcomed his seemingly sensual advance. However, they, too, met with grave consequences as he held Violeta down with one arm and ripped the head off Stefania with the other. He allowed blood to fall from the severed head into his mouth, and within moments, his hand penetrated the bones protecting the heart of Violeta.

Mynea flew to her feet as the visions flooded her head. Vlad simply smiled, as he marveled in her despair. She tried desperately to stop the visual assault but couldn’t. She raised her hands and cupped both ears shaking her head to and fro, as if to frantically answer no to a question yet to be asked.

Anca would be the next, followed in short order by Crina—both accosted while hunting together. Vlad killed them and their prey as well, leaving only smoldering ash in their place.

“Why?” Mynea screamed. “Why have you done this?”

“It’s of your blood that I’ve no sight, my queen.” Vlad’s voice was a scolding whisper. “All others knew nothing of this treachery,” he continued, his voice projected and infused with anger. “I’ve examined their minds many times over to find nothing. It’s only your bloodline that could have kept such a secret from me!”

“No, my lord. My children are innocent of this charge. I’ve sent Alina and Daciana to the east to answer your question. Please spare the lives of all who remain. I beg you!”

“And why should you ask this of me? Your children know full well the consequences of disobedience. I would kill every last one of them to discover where the interloper is.”

The sun began to rise, and Mynea grew weaker by the moment. She braced herself against the back of a wooden chair next to her bed to keep from falling, eyes full of tears the color of roses streaming down her face and dripping onto her white gown.

“Sleep now, my queen, for you have much to do. Tomorrow night you’ll call out to the rest of your brood and summon them to me. I won’t ask questions. I only need to feed for answers. This is my wish, my command.”

“Please, Vlad, please,” Mynea replied as her muscles began to tighten as if she were slipping into rigor mortis. “My children are your children. You’re killing your own coven!”

“Then give me what I require of them, what I demand of you.”

And with that, Mynea’s eyes closed as the slumber took her. In his last request, he gave her an opportunity to save the rest of her children, whom he now hated.

Vlad retreated to the Chindia Tower in the Royal Court of Targoviste. It was within this court that Vlad had spent many days and nights as a young mortal prince of Wallachia. This tower had been long forgotten by humans—ruins to them, but protection to us.

Outside the tower was a bust of Vlad as a celebrated man, a crude depiction of flesh carved in stone—stone that ironically resembled more his current countenance than that of his former self.

There he would remain alone, his mind wandering as the sun seared the sky, illuminating the clouds. Vlad looked over the horizon shadowed by the tower wall and spoke in his ancient tongue,
Lupul. Venit la mine copiii mei
. Wolves. Come to me, my children.

The shadows of the room closed in as the sun rose and began to move on their own. A low and agonizing moan from the ink-black shadows filled the tower. The wolves gathered below. These beasts weren’t
ordinary. They had tasted Vlad’s blood and now served his bidding as protection during the day. They were vile, filthy, and wicked-looking demonic beasts. Nearly double the size of an ordinary wolf, they were made in Vlad’s image. Their backs were humped with muscle and mangy, matted fur that was bare in spots. Their teeth rivaled the butcher’s blade and were just as sharp. They proudly displayed them as they were called to duty, circling the perimeter of the tower.

Though Vlad needed no rest from the sun, he was still weakened by it, his immortal abilities limited, his strength questioned, an immortal sovereign enervated by the source of mortal life. There he would remain until just before dusk, protected by ravenous beasts whose only wish was to kill for him.

Dusk collapsed upon Romania, and as darkness crept in, the undead awakened. Within the walls of Bran, Mynea’s eyes opened, and she searched the room for her king and found not him but another standing a few feet from her bedside.

“Pandora, it’s been too long since you’ve visited my chamber. All of my children have come to me, some more often than others. Even Natasha has sought my counsel. It’s truly a delight to have you in my company, particularly more now than ever.” Mynea gestured for Pandora to sit close to her. Although the inherent insult in Mynea’s implication of Pandora being her child enraged her, Pandora maintained a cunning calmness and stepped toward the queen; however, she didn’t sit.

“You wish not to sit with me?” asked Mynea, for in her presence all others remained in submission.

Pandora glared down at Mynea and spoke in a condescending manner.

“My concern is for the master.”

“I know, my dear Pandora. Your concern has always been for my king,” Mynea replied as she stood face-to-face with her subject. “But I’m afraid your concern should be with me.”

“Oh, but it is, my queen. The matter at hand involves you.” Pandora replied contemptuously.

Mynea turned her back to Pandora. “What matter do you speak of?”

“I speak of a matter of particular interest to my love. Such knowledge that will spell the end of your short, undeserved reign.”

Mynea swiftly turned around. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner! How dare you come to my chambers and insult me to my very face!”

Knowing Pandora’s power and ability, Mynea silently called out to two of her remaining children. Though it would take only moments for them to arrive, it would seem an eternity to Mynea.

“It was no insult, Mynea. You’ve insulted yourself. You’ve disgraced your lordship. You have a role in this ordeal,” Pandora said, pointing her right index finger at her adversary.

“You know nothing of what you speak.”

“I know much more than you’ll ever know, my dear. As for the true origin of the female fledgling, I have intimate knowledge.”

Upon saying those words, Mynea lunged at Pandora in utter desperation unfit for a queen—her sovereignty in question, challenged even. And as Mynea reached for the throat of her older and more powerful sister, she found nothing but air.

Pandora appeared on the other side of the room near the window, which shattered at that very instant, announcing Iliana and Madalina, daughters of the queen. They grabbed Pandora’s arms, pinning her against the wall. She chose not to struggle with them.

Mynea then found her target; her hand gripped the neck of the first female immortal, her children’s teeth glaring sharp and white at the anticipation of a meal more satisfying than any other they would have known.

“You know nothing of what you speak,” Mynea repeated with renewed confidence. “I’ve watched you for centuries. You have always tried to bring disorder to our coven. Your jealousy of Vlad’s love for me has made you rotten. A true demon you are! You’re a beast of a woman. You sicken me. The very sight of you is a mockery.”

Confined to the wall, Pandora replied, “Jealous of you. Yes, my queen, but not in the way you think me to be. Vlad never loved you. He doesn’t love anyone, save himself. This should have been apparent to you when he gave birth to Natasha. Our master has no heart. So your boasts are inherently flawed.”

The nails on Mynea’s free hand began to grow. Saliva dripped from the opened mouths of her children. Unflinching, Pandora continued: “As for my heart, Mynea, passion has resided here before. Passion that will live here again. For your time as queen will soon come to an end. Your pitiful and ill-gotten reign at our master’s side is over!”

Mynea instantly clawed Pandora’s face. The assault, accompanied by a screech from Mynea, won smiles of approval from her daughters.

Pandora threw Iliana into the opposite wall with a tug of her left arm. She then leapt across the room with Madalina still holding on to the other. Upon landing, Pandora regained her footing and appeared behind Madalina. She held one of Madalina’s arms behind her back while plunging her nails deep within her neck. Blood began to flow from Madalina’s throat. Looking directly into Mynea’s eyes, Pandora ripped her head off as easily as a child would a rag doll. Iliana tried to avenge her sister, but Mynea prevented her attack by holding her arm out and blocking her advance. Madalina’s headless body hit the floor. Thick, dark blood spilled out of the ragged stump, spreading and filling the imperfections in the stone floor.

Mynea’s eyes were wide and wild, affixed on Pandora’s every move. And even with her powerful vampire sight, it was impossible to keep Pandora in sight, for she simply disappeared and reappeared across the room, taunting Mynea. With each sighting of Pandora, Mynea could see that the shallow scratches she had made had already begun to heal.

“Fare thee well, queen, fare thee well.” With this, Pandora backed away from Mynea and Iliana. She swiftly moved to the opposite corner of the room near the closed door. Untouched, it opened, and Pandora exited, a thud echoing as something fell onto the floor. Mynea and Iliana looked at the object that had struck the floor. It was a book! Mynea’s eyes grew large. Iliana walked over and picked it up. She examined it for only a moment, then brought it to Mynea.

Mynea hesitated before her hands reached out to receive the offering.

“I’ve never seen this book, my queen. Do you know of it?”

She snatched it from Iliana. “Go away from me at once!”

Iliana exited her queen’s chambers.

It was her journal, where she kept all of her secrets, in which she wrote tirelessly while away from Castle Bran. It was the journal she had left in Cairo, which her secret prince had come upon once she left him. The book hadn’t been here before dawn or during the fight with Pandora. Mynea knew Pandora had dropped the journal purposely. Pandora wanted Mynea to know that she knew of Mynea’s prince.

“She knows of Aleron,” the queen whispered to herself as her hand caressed her naked neck; the necklace given to her by Vlad when she was mortal was missing, likely stolen by Pandora.

CHAPTER 31

he journey proved to be exhausting. Raya and I crossed the Black Sea, and with daylight only minutes away and Varna beneath our feet, we took refuge in an abandoned manor, which once served as a Russian military stronghold, just south of the Theotokos Cathedral.