Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (71 page)

“Where did Dad take all the guests?” I asked in a breathy, almost perfectly silent whisper as we reached the stairs.

“There were only about fifty that didn’t make it out of the gates in time, so he’s taken them to the Garden of Lilith. They’ll be safe there.”

I pictured my dad huddled in the flower beds with fifty or so costumed people, wishing this attack had come at a better time—perhaps when I was wearing jeans. The soft, light fabric of my dress clung to my skin with static and tangled between my legs as we took the stairs to the balcony. And the higher we climbed, the more exposed I felt, checking over my shoulder for moving things in the darkness.

Across the empty, open space of the Great Hall, the picture of Lilith sat proudly above the fireplace, calming me with her gentle smile, but also reminding me of the pendant around my neck. I tucked it inside my dress to keep it safe.

When we reached the first floor, where the double doors sat in their last position—opened for the queen before her speech—a part of me went back just an hour in time and saw Falcon and I standing on the landing, talking casually. But the soft light and feeling of winding down had been replaced by a scary darkness and whipping cold breeze, sweeping the walls and my skin as if it owned the place—just coming on in through a door that should be closed. Would be closed on any other night.

Falcon guided me along the wall in the almost pitch black, but as we reached the second stairwell toward my quarters, he turned me down the first floor corridor instead.

“Where are we going?”

“The secret room behind the wall,” he whispered. “You can wait in the stairwell that leads up to your room. No one will know you’re—” his voice cut off with a wet gurgle then, and his fingers curled tightly around mine.

“Falcon?” My round, wide eyes searched his and, seeing the fear and surprise there, moved on to his throat—gushing with warm red liquid. It pulsed out over his uniform and spattered my dress, freezing me in the moment like a stunned mullet. “No,” I cried, but he sunk to the ground, releasing my hand as the life left him. I caught his shoulders and guided him gently to the floor, trying to lay his face anywhere but the pool of blood under my feet. “Falcon?”

“I believe his throat’s been cut,” a man said, and I recognised him instantly, my eyes travelling from his pointy black shoes, up his long, tailored pants to the bloody dagger in his hand.

“Mathias!”

He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, turning me so the blade sat sharply against my throat. “Ah, little queen,” he taunted. “All alone with a big scary vampire.”

“You’re the one who should be afraid.” I tucked my fingers between the knife and my skin, readying myself to shift it. “I’m no
little queen
.”

“But you are stupid,” he snapped, and raked the blade across my fingers swiftly, opening the tips as he shoved me away.

I squealed, folding over my wounds, forcing the skin closed with the palm of my other hand. “Screw you!”

Mathias sheathed his dagger and smiled at me wickedly. “That was the plan.”

“Try it,” I said through my teeth, standing tall, lowering my hand as though it didn't hurt. “I dare you.”

“And who will defend you?” he asked mockingly, nodding toward the ground. “You’re weak, and your so-called knights are useless.”

I glanced back at Falcon, laying half on the hall rug and half on the floorboards, surrounded by a sea of blood. He would be so pissed with himself right now—laying there like a big useless speed hump. But all I cared about was getting his body to a safe place—in case anyone decided to cremate him. We could restore a cut throat, but not a pile of ashes. “What do you want with me, Mathias?”

“I have orders not to kill you,” he said, moving in to take my arm. “But my master never said anything about … hurting you.”

His round, focused eyes seemed to take up his whole face as he looked right through me, and a spark, just a flicker of something in his mind flashed into mine. My heart skipped a beat, not only for the plans he had for me, but for the fact that I was getting so much better at reading unfamiliar minds, and the exhilaration of my growing powers further fuelled my already burning will to survive.

Within half a second, my eyes knew exactly where his knife was, the exact way he’d block me, and I plotted out exactly how to grab it, bend it around him and jam it into the back of his neck.

He moved his feet apart as my gaze came back to his, but the realisation sunk in too late. His body hit the ground in a bulky heap as the knife slipped perfectly between two vertebrae and totalled him. And all he gave as the blade popped his flesh was a quivering little whimper and then … nothing. It seemed almost too easy.

I squatted slightly while I checked my surroundings, listening carefully. No one was coming, and the screaming outside had stopped. All I could hear now was the slight murmur of whispers in the front entrance—perhaps some of the guests that didn’t get away.

“Falcon?” I whispered, shoving his shoulder. But he was gone. Just a lump of flesh now. “Don’t worry.” I kissed his head, smoothing his thick blond hair back. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Down the hall, an endless line of closed doors offered no hope—no place to hide. And I couldn't drag Falcon’s weight all the way to Jason’s old room. Not without leaving an obvious trail behind.

I got to my feet with a gentle heave and checked the doors on both sides of the corridor. The one closest to Falcon was unlocked. Thank God. So I pushed it open and a warm light greeted me—a fire burning pleasantly in the corner, a bed sitting central to the windows, and a big round rug in the middle of the room.

“Thank you,” I whispered to the absent owner.

The small glow from the fire snuck out the door and landed on the bodies in the hall. I screwed my nose up at the sight of them. They both just looked so … dead.

“I really don’t have time for this,” I said to them both, then dusted my hands off and bent to grab the cuff of Mathias’ pants. I dragged him inside and dumped him carelessly on the hardwood floor, then went back for Falcon, gently lifting both his wrists and hauling him into the room, shutting the door with my foot.

The two bodies lay side by side, one on the rug by the fire, the other on the cold floor. I looked them over like they were a mathematical equation. One disabled knight. One slab of meat. Plus a long trail of evidence leading the enemy to Falcon’s safe place. This equaled a pain in the arse.

I grabbed the sheets off the bed and quietly turned the door handle, checking both ends of the hall before dropping to my hands and knees. The white cotton soaked up some of the blood, merely spreading the rest around. I continued rubbing it around in useless circles before I realised how futile it was to hide blood from a vampire. Even with bleach and a bucket of water, I hadn’t a hope in hell of covering the trail completely.

I tossed the sheets across the hall. They hit the opposite door and landed in a red and white heap.

Time to address problem one and two.

Safely back inside the room, I cupped Falcon’s jaw and opened his mouth, eyeing the dagger in Mathias’ neck. If I removed it, he’d wake up eventually. But I needed something sharp—aside from my teeth. Looking around the room, though, I realised they were the only things available. So I squatted over the vampire, lifted his wrist and dragged his sleeve up his arm, popping the cufflinks off carelessly, before sinking my teeth into his flesh. I rolled my tongue to the back of my throat to avoid his flesh, but his blood flooded my mouth, and he tasted surprisingly nice for a piece of shit. I didn’t want him to, but he did.

When an artery opened, I quickly dragged him by the wrist across the floor and positioned it over Falcon’s open mouth, dusting my hands off as I stood back. If just a few drops could get past that slit into his throat, it might heal him enough that he could at least wake up and defend himself. I couldn't stay here and do it. He’d want me to—I’d be safe here. But the people in the front entrance needed me too. I couldn't leave them down there, exposed and out in the open. But before I could go anywhere, I needed Nhym.

I kissed Falcon on the head, then gently and quietly closed the door as I left.

None of the guards lined the hallways like they usually did, and the absence of something I was used to made the big old manor seem really scary. Probably scarier for the humans, though. “Just hang on,” I said, as if my words were a prayer that would reach them, or maybe protect them. “I’ll be there soon.”

***

A thick layer of dust covered Nhym’s box. I gently wiped my hand along the top, revealing the Markings of the Old Language. Where there is life, there is hope. The same Markings were on the blade of my sword. Nhym. Meaning life. But she would not bring life tonight.

I flipped the catch on the box, and my hands knew the hilt of Nhym like they knew the curve of my own breast. I drew her from the box and held her up to the night, clambering clumsily to my feet, half-tripping on the soft fabric of my long dress.

“We’ve got a job to do, Nhym,” I whispered, charging my hands. And Nhym glowed like a lightsaber in response, as if to say, “I’m ready for battle, my Queen.”

I placed her on the bed and darted to my wardrobe to get my sword belt, considering a change of clothes for a moment, until I thought about the fear I could smell from the lower floors rising up like thick smoke. There was no time. I snapped my mask off the small loop on my dress and tossed it aside, then wrapped the leather belt around my small bump, practically running to my bed to get Nhym after. With her by my side, no vampire stood a chance. Still, that didn’t mean I was looking for a fight. So I took the secret exit out through Eve’s childhood bedroom and walked with whispery steps to the stairway. I could hear them down there—four humans and two Lilithians—could hear them breathing frantically, panicked, muffling their whimpers. And if I could hear them, a vampire certainly could.

At supernatural speed I appeared in the entranceway, my back to the Great Hall, my hand on my sword. The room seemed empty, on first glance, until I sniffed the air and narrowed my grid to the small triangle of space behind the open door.

I didn’t want to scare them any more than they already were, so I announced myself quietly as I approached. “You don’t need to be scared.”

“Queen Ara?” someone said.

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank you, God!” A small human stepped out from behind the door, no older than seventeen, followed by an old man, two elderly ladies and a middle-aged man. Their masks had been removed, ties loosened and, from what I could see in the dark, they’d taken off their shoes.

“Are you all okay?” I asked.

“We’re okay now you’re here.” The girl grabbed my arm tightly. “You have to help us.”

“I will.” I put my arm around her. She was tiny, even compared to me, which made her easy to hug. “I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“There’s nowhere to hide,” the middle-aged man yelped in a loud, panicked voice. “They’re everywhere—they’re Warriors. They—”

“Merv, calm down.” One of the ladies put her hand on his arm and looked at me apologetically. “We were in the group of Lilithians locked away all this time. He’s afraid to go back.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll never let that happen. Come on.” I grabbed the girl’s hand and led her through the front door. “Follow me.”

Atop the steps, the midnight mist blew in with a steady breeze, settling on my cheeks and in my breath. I paused a moment, sniffing out my dad’s last steps, using the time to scan the large plains of grass for movement. But it seemed the Warriors had moved on—either led away by the knights or simply appeased by a mission complete. What that mission was, I feared to ask. Drake had no reason to attack us.

“I’m telling you, we need to go. Now!”

I turned to the hushed, insistent whispers of Merv’s Lilithian wife. “Shh.”

“I’m not going to shush, woman. I won’t be shushed,” he yelled, flipping his wife’s hands off his arms. “I’m not going back in those cells, I tell you. I’m not!”

“Merv,” the woman pleaded. “We’ll be heard. Just quiet down, honey—”

“Yeah, Merv,” a mocking voice said from the driveway. I looked down to the pair of Warriors standing below the steps, a gun aimed at Merv’s head. “Why don’t you quiet on down? You might be heard.”

I could visibly see Merv die inside when I looked back at him, his wife shrinking beside him.

“To the right,” I said quietly and calmly. “The forest will protect you.”

My small group looked at me, confused, until I yelled “Run!” and not a heartbeat passed after with them still standing. They split apart in four directions and vanished. Not one of them running for the forest.

“Stupid idiots,” I mumbled.

The Warriors moved up the steps, aiming their guns at me like overly cautious cops storming a drug house. I put both hands up, as though getting caught was not my intention, and as they reached my side and lowered their weapons to cuff me, I gripped Nhym’s hilt, whipped her from the leather belt and slashed the wrist and then the neck to my left, driving the tip through the stomach to my right. It went in like a stick through soft butter, and both men went down hard and fast, bleeding out on the ground like helpless sacks of wheat.