Vampire Girl 3: Silver Flame (6 page)

Dean obviously doesn't have the same reservations, and pours himself a double of something yellow with smoke coming out of it. I don't even want to know.

"Now, pray tell, what can old Sly do for you?"

Fen speaks first, giving Sly a very short version of what's happening on Inferna. "We just need a safe place to stay until we figure out a plan for defeating Levi and taking back Stonehill. And Ari's been injured. She needs medical treatment."

"I'm fine," I say, more out of reflex than truth. In reality, I'm not fine. I'm weak, tired, sore, malnourished, dehydrated and I have open wounds all over my body. The more I think about it, medical treatment might not be a bad idea.

Fen knows this too. He frowns at me and I shrug, relenting to his idea.

Sly crosses his legs and sips his drink, staring at the two of us. "This is just so intriguing. There hasn't been a good war in Inferna for all too long. Your lot has become complacent in your power. That's always dangerous. Every empire falls eventually."

"I don't want their empire to fall," I say carefully. "I want to remake it. I want to create a world that is fair and just to vampires and Fae, where both can live in harmony."

Sly studies me. "That seems quite impossible. But if anyone could do it, I do think it might be you." He stands and holds out a hand to me. "May I escort you to your quarters, Princess?"

Fen frowns as I take Sly's hand, and then I am the one frowning as the world spins around me, then edges away like a view just out of reach. Strong arms catch me, and I find myself cradled against Fen's chest. "She needs a healer," he says gruffly. "Levi fed on her after she'd been left to rot in the dungeon for weeks."

I try to insist I'm fine and can walk, but my mouth isn't working right. My brain is so fuzzy, and everyone is suddenly surrounded by halos of light.

"Why are you all glowing like angels?" I ask through slurred speech.

Sly's eyes widen, and his halo glows brighter. "Follow me."

"Follow the devil!" I say, trying to raise my arm in salute. But I think it comes out more like "swallow the lever" and everyone looks confused.

I give up and sink back into Fen's arms, letting darkness steal me away.

***

A beautiful white wolf stares at me when I wake. As soon as my eyes peel open, Baron licks my face.

"Ew, come on, dude. Not a great way to wake a girl up." I wipe the slobber off and pat his head. "You're a good boy, aren't you? Where's Fen?"

Baron whines and jumps off the bed, then scratches at the door. Before I can rise and open it, Fen walks in. He smiles at me when he sees me awake. "You've been asleep longer than the healer expected. You had us all worried."

He sinks into the bed next to me and I scoot over to be closer to him. "I feel amazing," I say, stretching. The bruises and cuts on my body are mostly healed, and the pain that has lived inside me for weeks is nearly gone. For the first time since the dungeon I almost feel like myself again. "Whatever they used on me, we should take it home with us," I say as I lay my head on his lap.

"I'll see what I can do about that." His hand falls gently to my head and his fingers wind into my hair.

The muscles in his thighs flex as I adjust my position so I can look up at him. "I've missed you. We haven't been alone since before… everything."

He cups my face. "I know. When they dragged you away after the trial, I've never felt more like waging war on everything and everyone there. I killed four guards before they could get me back in my cell."

I suck in a breath. "None of ours, I hope?" I don't know the exact moment I began identifying Fen's realm and people as 'ours' verses 'his.' I don't know when it began to feel like home more than anywhere else in my life. But it happened. I can feel it in me, this shift. He is mine. I am his. Those people are ours to protect.

"No, not ours. Levi's." He growls his brother's name with so much pent-up aggression I could almost feel bad for the Prince of Envy, if he wasn't so deplorable.

I clutch Fen’s hand harder in mine, and then pull myself up so that we are facing each other. I search my brain for the perfect thing to say. For the exact right words to make this moment perfect. We are finally together. Finally alone. Finally safe.

And what comes out of my mouth is… "I have to pee."

My bladder is suddenly on fire and about to explode. I don't know how long I've been sleeping, but it could have been a month based on how urgently I now need a bathroom.

Fen laughs at my abrupt change of topics. "Washroom is there," he says, pointing to a door. "Do you need help walking?"

I shake my head no, but then realize I actually have no idea. I crawl out of bed slowly and take small but urgent steps toward the door Fen pointed to. It's dark, but the light of the ever-burning fire gives enough illumination to keep me from falling on my face and pissing myself.

There is nothing more instantly gratifying and pleasurable in the most basic way then relieving yourself when your bladder is close to busting.

When I return to the room, Fen is already standing. I walk to him and wrap my arms around his waist.

He holds me, and we stand there for I don't know how long, just being.

"Stay?" I ask as he eventually pulls away.

He looks down at me, then leans in. I stand on my toes to reach his lips. The kiss starts sweet. Gentle. Then deepens into something that makes my whole body wake up.

It ends too soon. "I can't. If I did, we'd do things."

I grin. "And that's a problem because… ?"

"Because you might feel better, but you still need rest. I don't want to hurt you." He leans in and whispers in my ear. "I don't want to have to hold back our first time together."

Heat pools in the center of my body and I crave him so badly I can hardly contain myself. "You don't have to hold back now."

He shakes his head and steps away, putting space between us. "I am not human," he says. "I'm much stronger. I have… more stamina and endurance."

He dances around the words, but I get the picture. "If that's supposed to dissuade me, I'm afraid you've failed miserably."

There is a long pause as we stare at each other. Then he turns and opens my door. "Soon. Very soon." He pauses, his hand on the knob, his eyes locked on mine. "I'm just across the hall if you need me… for anything else."

He leaves, and Baron trails after him with his head hung. I close the door behind them and sink into my bed, suddenly exhausted by the effort of walking and talking and containing all the pent up sexual energy between us.

I can feel sleep stealing me away within moments. I guess Fen was right. I am more tired than I thought.

***

When the door creaks open, I awaken, my body instantly on alert. He came back. My heart beats wildly in anticipation of what is about to happen.

I roll over, about to say something to him, when a knife lands in my pillow where my head just was.

I scream.

My attacker backhands me and tries again with the knife, but I knee him in the groin and use my body to flip him off me. His sharp blade grazes my cheek, leaving a crimson stain behind, but I barely feel it. My body is pumped with adrenaline and I am ready to fight. I reach for my sword under my bed and stand to face the man in black just as my door slams open.

Fen is there, wearing only pants, his eyes wild. He raises his sword and attacks the man.

They fight. Blades clash.

The attacker's knife is wicked sharp, and it lands a few blows against Fen. Each time the blade hits his skin I feel the pain inside me.

But it's all over fast. Fen waits until the moment is right and then raises his sword and swoops it down, cutting off the attacker’s hand. It falls limply to the floor along with the knife.

The man screams as he stares at the stump left at the end of his arm.

Lights turn on.

Sly appears as if from smoke, wrapped in a black silk robe. "What the devil is going on in here?" he asks.

Fen, whose sword is dripping with blood, points to the attacker. "He tried to kill Ari."

Sly turns to the man. "Is this true? Have you defiled the sanctity of my haven?"

The man shakes his head in denial. "He attacked me. I'm the one missing a hand."

Sly stares at the man—who is still masked—long and hard, then laughs. "We'll just have to see who's telling the truth, won't we?" He pulls out his wand and speaks words in a strange language.

There is a booming sound and the air rips open around us, revealing a new scene. It is the past, the recent past. It is me, in bed. Everything plays out as it happened, only I'm seeing it from an omniscient point of view.

The attacker shakes from fear, or maybe blood loss. Sly stalks over to him and pulls off his mask. He's a ruddy man with a bulbous nose and a mean mouth. No one I recognize. "Who sent you?"

"The Prince of Envy," he says without hesitation. He is clearly scared out of his mind. What kind of reputation does Sly have, I wonder? I fear I'm about to find out.

"Toward what end?" Sly asks.

"To kill her. Then capture him," he says, pointing to me then Fen.

"You know the penalty for harming anyone under my protection at The Black Lotus?"

The man lowers his head.

"They never learn," Sly says as he waves his wand.

Nothing happens for a moment, and the man looks almost relieved despite missing his hand.

But then…

Oh God.

I've never seen anything so awful.

The man screams again, and this time it's a gut-wrenching sound that tears out of his throat. His body begins to convulse, as his skin peels off bones and muscles essentially turning him inside out.

It seems an eternity before the man finally lays silent in a pool of his own insides.

I'm still standing in stunned shock as blood spreads across the hardwood floors, staining my bare feet red.

Sly puts his wand away and sighs. "I'll have another room prepared for you. Please accept my apologies. It's rare for anyone to risk my ire by breaking the rules, but it does happen on occasion. The Prince of Envy must be truly desperate."

"He doesn't like me very much," I say.

"Sounds like he likes you too much, but realizes he will never have you," Sly says.

"No, he covets me. There's a difference."

Sly nods. "You've spoken truly, Princess." Sly turns to Fen. "There will be no punishments levied against you since you were defending yourself and another guest."

Fen nods.

Then collapses to the floor unconscious.

"You cannot make too many enemies and still rule."

—Kayla

The messenger came
early that morning, before our raiding party had risen from slumber, before we'd broken camp and headed out. It was a short note, sent from Levi—excuse me,
Prince Levi
—demanding we return. Saying we were needed for war. Saying Fen and Ari were scheduled to be executed—I mentally tick off the days, and my heart stops. Today. They are scheduled for execution at sunrise, today.

I look up into a sky just starting to lighten, casting long purple shadows into the twilight. I frown and chew a lip in frustration. There's no way I'll make it back in time. I'm at least two day's ride from Stonehill, and that's if I don't care if my steed survives or not.

I'm already too late. But I have to do something. I crumble the letter in my fist and look around for Salzar, snow crunching beneath my fur boots. He's not in his tent. I head to the rear of our party and find the section I know he'll be in.

Here, there are many awake. They belong to the night in their scantily clad costumes as they use all their charms to lure the desperate into their arms. I disturb a few outraged "couples" before I find him. He's laying there with his eyes closed as a young woman… services him.

I pull the girl off of him and toss the crumbled letter at his naked lap. "We've got to go back. Now. Ready the troops."

"It's the middle of the bloody night," he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he scrambles for something to cover himself. "I'll do no such thing. Now get back to your tent, Mistress Kayla Windhelm. And remember your place. You're not a princess here."

"I was never a princess," I hiss. "And when I outrank you, it will not be because of my birth. It will be because I'm not a lecherous asshole with zero ability to lead a crowd of vampires to blood, let alone a troop to raid villages of Fae. This is dangerous work. Deadly. And they need someone who will protect them. Not someone like you. We leave tonight, with or without you."

I storm out, my heart pounding frantically in my chest. I can taste the rage on my lips, like it's a poison soaking through me. For the last fortnight I have suffered the abuse of this vile man in an effort to keep our troop undivided and effective. But I am done placating that ass.

What I do next can be considered treachery, turning on my superior. But I am the one following an order from a prince of hell, and Salzar is not.

The company bell stands in the middle of the sleeping quarters, and it rings throughout the makeshift village. Tired bodies pitch out of their tents to see what the emergency is.

I summarize quickly, then give my commands. "We leave now. Pack only what is necessary to make it to Stonehill safely. Leave everything else. We have no time."

Not all follow. Some are still more loyal to greed and rage than fairness and justice. But many—most—do. I release a long held breath. For all I knew, every soldier could have decided to stay with Salzar, decided to continue raiding village after village. It was easy work. Full of reward. I had gone on two raids myself, and though at first I was driven with thoughts of vengeance for Daison, they soon turned to thoughts of shame. These weren’t soldiers we were fighting, but innocent men, women and children who could barely hold a sword. I argued with Salzar to turn our attention to military strongholds. He said we didn’t have a force big enough. I think he grew too fond of the slaughter and spoils.

But now, with an official message from a prince, I have most of the troops traveling back with me. Hopefully, my good luck continues. By the Spirits, I'm going to need it before this is all said and done.

I'm faster than most, and I'm ready with bedroll and minimal provisions in hand, mounted and wearing light armor. I set the pace for the day's march, and we make good progress come early night. But it's not enough. So I push us more.

I push past the recommendations of my advisors.

I push past my own whispered reservations.

I push past what is safe, as night falls in darkness. As a new moon keeps us shadowed. As we are blocked by a lake that we must cross.

"We must trail back and go around," my advisors say. "It's the only way. The Druids will punish us if we enter the water."

The map lies between us on the rough earth, firelight casting shadows over the parchment. I lay a rock on the narrowest part of the river. "We cross there. We shave off days of travel." I look at each of them pointedly. Daring them to contradict me. To challenge me. To tell me we should abandon my brother and friend to a false hanging.

None do.

But I alone bear the burden.

Of the thing that happens.

When we cross.

When the wind lashes at us, and the waters rage in violent waves. I see a horse pulled under before me.

And then I follow.

Drowning. Feeling the water fill my lungs. It burns. It incites the most animalistic instincts we have. That of survival.
Breathe
. I must breathe.

I am dying.

They are dying.

We are all dying.

The water turns colder. The pain turns numb. It all turns numb. My mind flicks in and out.

I am a breath away from breathlessness.

From the great beyond.

From nothing.

From death.

I muster a last bit of fight. I lift my arm and pound against the ice freezing between me and air. Me and sky.

Pain shoots through my wrist. The ice doesn't move. It is unbreakable. It surrounds me.

Warmth.

Like a small ball of fire at the pit of my stomach. But it spreads, reaches out for my extremities, filling me with delicious heat. I look up, into the ice, and I lift my hands. They glow a silver light, and they send their heat outwards—breaking through the ice and bringing me to air.

Breathe.

In. Out.

***

Breathe!

Choking.

Gagging.

Lungs burn. Throat burns.

Someone is holding my head. A voice, deep and strong, is telling me to breathe. To live. To stay.

I vomit all the water that ever was out of my mouth.

And then I can breathe. And his face is over mine, a wry smile on his lips. His green eyes crinkled in humor. "Good girl, Princess. Can't have you dying on me yet."

***

I don't know how much time has passed, but I awaken in a dark space. My body shudders, ice still penetrating my nerves, despite the fire that blazes beside me.

***

There is an animal here with me. But I don't feel scared. He is big. Fierce. A white tiger with black stripes. I think he even purrs.

***

The tiger is gone and the man with the secret eyes is back. He always smiles when I open my eyes, and his voice always soothes me. Warm. Caressing. Safe.

***

"Where the hell am I?" I push myself up from the hard ground and nearly knock myself silly on a stone protruding from the wall of a cave.

I could swear I saw the tiger, but when I blink it is the man, sitting with a stick beside the fire, watching over me. "Who are you?" I demand, trying not to get too lost in his green eyes. Dear gods those eyes. Where do you even get eyes like that? Is it some sort of spell? Where can I learn it?

Doesn’t matter. I need answers. I need to find my troop. If anyone else survived.

When I sit up, the furs fall off me, exposing my nudity.

The man with the eyes does not avert his gaze.

I glare at him, but don't attempt to cover up. "Where are my clothes?" I ask.

He points his head to the side of the cave where my clothes are strung up on cords to dry near the fire. He stands, though he can't stand all the way up—he's too tall and would knock his head—and walks over to the clothes, testing them before pulling them off the line. "They aren't fully dry, but they're better than nothing," he says, his voice deep and smooth. "For now."

He tosses them to me and turns around while I dress. I hate putting on damp clothes, but I have no choice at the moment, so I finish as quickly as possible.

"You can turn around now," I say. "Besides, I assume you're the one who undressed me, since we're the only two people here."

He faces me again and nods. "You would have frozen in your clothes. I saved your life."

I blink, and remember the feeling of drowning. Of freezing. Of breaking through the ice. Then, nothing.

I believe him. "Thank you. I didn't want to die just yet."

"Better places to be?" he asks.

"As a matter of fact, yes." I glare at him. "I must return to Stonehill as quickly as possible. It's life or death. And I must find my people. The troop I was traveling with. Surely I can't be the only one to survive?"

He's silent, his gaze unwavering.

"I'm the only one who survived?"

He nods once. "I'm sorry. You were the only one left to save by the time I arrived."

I look around as I pull on my cloak. "I must leave. Now. Where's my sword?"

The man pulls my sword out of the scabbard hanging from his hip and spins it in his hand. "It's a beauty. True artistry and craft went into the making of this."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I know. I'm the one who made it."

He raises an eyebrow. "Impressive. I'd heard rumors the bastard daughter of the King had a knack for metal work. I didn't put much stock in it."

My laugh comes out like a croak. "You really have elevated ideas of who I am. I'm nothing. A Shade like the rest."

That's when I take a closer look at my savior. At the white fur cloak spilling down his back. At his ears. "You're Fae."

He bows. "At your service, Princess."

"Stop calling me that. I'm no more a princess than you."

"Surely someone misses you?"

"The only one who'd miss me if I was gone is about to be hanged, if he hasn't been already."

Something changes in the man's face. "Would this by chance be one of the princes?"

"Yes. Fen, Prince of War. My brother."

"And he's dead?"

"He's scheduled for execution. Which is why I need to go. Now." I hold out my hand for my sword, but he doesn't move to hand it over.

"Here's my dilemma, Princess. You're my ticket out of this shit hole. I was going to take you to the Seven Realms and sell you back to your family for a nice profit. But if what you're saying is true, then it's not the vampires I need to be negotiating with."

"What are you talking about?"

The kindness on his face vanishes. "I need money. You're that money. If your family won't pay for your return, I know one other who will. A certain newly awakened Water Druid who, rumor has it, would pay a hefty ransom to have you in her dungeon."

Metsi. "She's psychotic. You can't take me to her."

"I can, and I will. Now get up. We leave shortly." He sheathes my sword and begins rolling up the bedding I was laying on.

"Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?"

"I'm the man with the weapons. The man with the horse. And the man with the provisions. How long do you think you'll survive the Outlands by yourself with nothing but your clothing… if I let you keep even that?"

"And if I refuse?"

He grins, and I want to punch him. "You're coming with me, one way or another. You can ride on your own, or I can tie you up and strap you to my horse. Makes no difference to me, but might make a big difference to you after a few hours. You decide."

With that he strides out of the cave with all our supplies. I look around, but all that's left to do is put out the fire. I'm fuming when I get outside, but he's got his horse packed and ready to go. He's just waiting for me. "Which option will the vampire princess choose?"

I hiss at him with fangs revealed, something I never do. "Better sleep with one eye open, jackass. I hear your kind are particularly tasty."

He laughs and throws a leg over his horse, then holds out a hand for me. I ignore it and mount by myself. This isn't a surrender, I tell myself. It's me buying myself time to figure out a plan. Being tied up won't help me.

But when he chuckles again, I can't resist the urge to smack the back of his head. "Shut it."

At our first rest stop, I'm no closer to answers than I was three hours ago. He hands me bread and dried meat and I devour the food greedily. As I sip on the water he gives me, I look at him again. He's a handsome man, and he knows it. Tall, skin the color of dark honey, and those eyes. His hair is dark and disheveled and he has a shadow of dark stubble across his jaw. "What's your name?" I ask.