C2 Chapter 2

My dragon keeps to the center of the pack as we fly above the rocky, colorless landscape. I realize that the overcast skies aren’t part of any weather pattern, but rather the constant of the vampire realm; the sun never touches this place. There’s a huge mountain range to our left with just the slightest glow along its highest ridge. I’m guessing it’s daytime on the other side, but the rays never make it this far.

Because of that, I don’t see any forests or fields. No bees buzzing around flowers or birds nesting in trees. There’s the occasional stream of rust-colored water running through the scarred face of the hardened ground, but otherwise the view is completely desolate.

And even that water looks less... watery... somehow. Like if you tried to drink it, it would definitely stick in your throat.

It matches my mood perfectly.

I’ve stopped trying to feel any union with Darius. The effort is exhausting and being stonewalled only deepens the wound in my heart. My focus now rests solely on Rain, who cried herself to sleep in the first few minutes of flight. I hum different lullabies to her, hoping to keep her resting peacefully. My poor girl has endured so much already in her short life, and it feels like the worst is still to come.

No one speaks as we fly, but I get my fair share of looks from Timót’s gang. There are dwarves, giants, goblins, shifters--it’s a pretty diverse spread on the backs of these dragons. The only consistency is the testosterone count; every one of them is male. They all leer at me and my baby, thinking whatever awful thoughts run through the brains of the type of men who would join this type of cause. Hey, come with me, we’re going to gain power by kidnapping my daughter and stealing her kid. Shocking that he couldn’t get any women on board.

Darius rides behind me, my sense of him ebbing and flowing as we travel. He’s still distant, perhaps even more so since I stopped trying to connect with him. It’s for the best, I suppose. His aloofness makes it easier to pretend he never existed.

Zev, please, I whimper in my thoughts. Come to me.

I wait for an answer, even though I know it’s hopeless. I feel a howl inside my heart, but that’s just my lonely soul crying out for its mate.

After twenty minutes or so in the air, the thunder of dragons begins to descend. We settle on another patch of gray stone, this one just as bleak and dead as every other part of these lands. On the horizon, I see the outlines of tall, angular buildings. I wonder what they look like close up, but I’m sure that question will be answered soon enough.

Timót slides off the back of his dragon and turns to face his legion, all of whom sit at various levels of attention. “Welcome to Vaemor.”

The men smile, nod, some even laugh. They’re excited. This is fun for them.

Gross.

“I’ll venture into the temple with Darius, the mother, and the child,” he says, referring to me as the mother, like any good father would. What a brutal parenting hand I was dealt.

“You’ll hear and see activity as the Ancients head to the pantheon and prepare the altar,” he continues. “The moment you see my flare, flood the city with dragons.”

The Ancients, huh? Vampires sound pompous as hell. Then again, how else do you describe old dudes who have been kicking around since the dawn of all things?

This loose outline of a plan doesn’t make me feel particularly safe. Call me crazy, but attacking vampires with dragons right before my baby gets sacrificed sounds like an awesome way to get everyone killed. Especially my baby.

My father points his wand at me and does the little levitating trick, flying Rain and me off the dragon and onto the ground. I give the other dragons a quick glance, thinking about how sad they must be, and wondering how broken they are by this man. Like horses ridden by Confederate soldiers, unwittingly aiding an evil cause.

My insides slosh around like jello on a slick platter as dear ol’ dad jerks me around, and I do my best to protect Rain, who starts to scream again as my feet hit the ground. She hasn’t eaten in hours and, well, everything sucks. No real surprise she’s fussy. It’s a solidly relatable mood right about now.

“Can I feed my child?” I ask, keeping my tone cold and my voice quiet in an attempt to stave off the hysteria that’s nearly overtaking me.

Timót’s face shows a trace of empathy, either completely staged or bubbling up from some hidden part of his heart that’s still human. “Of course.”

The cord of light loosens around us and then slithers back into his wand. My arms are stiff from being clasped against my sides for so long, but I shake it off and unstrap Rain as fast as I can to get her feeding. Wrecked as I may be, I can still give her some contentment.

As she takes the nipple and starts to drink, I’m self-conscious about the feeding process for the first time since she was born. All of these strangers stare at me, making no effort to look away or not appear to be total creeps. So far I’m really loving the company my dad keeps.

“As soon as she finishes, let’s begin the walk,” Timót says to Darius. I haven’t given the vampire so much as a sideways look since getting off the dragon, though I can feel his eyes boring into me like icy daggers. As long as I live, which might not be much longer, I’ll never understand what happened to him. Or has he always been this much of an ass, conning me into trusting him while working backroom deals?

No. There’s no way. After all, he’s gaining nothing from this he didn’t have to begin with. I was already pledged to him eternally, our souls fused together as one. If this has been his plan all along, he’s just walking away with no baby, a fallen kingdom, and a scorned lover who wants him dead.

There has to be more to it.

Why?

I try sneaking the question in again, hoping to catch him off guard. I feel a twinge of pain from him, but nothing else. No meaningful response.

I hope Rain will feed forever so we don’t have to march her into the vampire stronghold, but she pops off the breast and delivers a satisfied burp, all but announcing to my captors that she’s ready to roll.

“Very good,” Timót says. “Let us away to meet King Vladimir.”

Darius walks briskly past me, wasting no time leading us toward the ancient temple of the vampires. This is exactly what his oath was meant to protect me and Rain from, meaning he either had his fingers crossed when he made the pledge, or magic is bullshit.

While I toil with a dismantled world and the blurred lines between fact and fiction, my father seems to be feeling more invincible by the moment. He walks in a brisk stride, strutting like he’s walking into his own kingdom, not an enemy stronghold. I know he wants the strength of immortality, but I still can’t fit together all the pieces of his puzzle. He’s after power, but what’s his strategy for getting it? What does the Last Witch mean to his efforts? What’s his plan for me and my powers, especially since all I really want to do is melt him down and then pour his molten shit corpse into an ocean?

And when--Jesus Christ Almighty WHEN--did he rope in Darius? The vampire has been at my side nearly every second since we arrived in Budapest, and when he was away our souls were still connected. They’ve clearly had enough communication to work out a pretty involved scheme, so were they writing letters? Was it all done while I was away with Zev? Or Rune? Did it happen because I was away with another prince and Darius got jealous?

I fight the urge to search the vampire’s mind for answers, because I know he’ll just shut me out and hurt me more. I can only hope I get some clarity before I detonate like an atomic bomb and kill everyone. I’m not quite there yet, but I’ve got enough confidence in my powers to at least give it a shot when the moment arrives.

As we start down a slight incline that leads to the city, I can finally study the fascinating metropolis a bit more. The structures are very gothic, with tall points and turrets capping all the roofs. The hardest thing to reconcile is the lack of roads. One building merges into the next, with no room for vehicles or foot traffic. It strikes me as odd until I notice the vampires flashing about above the different premises. They leap and bound, grabbing hold of the erected pinnacles and then entering through horizontal doorways. I open my mind a little and it makes more sense; why travel on roads when cars would slow you down?

It doesn’t take long for a few vampires to notice our arrival. One by one, figures clad in dark velvet and pristine silks begin zipping over to us, standing along the perimeter of the city while they assess the visitors. I see one vampire whisper to another, and the second is gone in a flash. If I have to guess, he’s recognized Darius and is off to fetch someone with authority.

More and more vampires join the crowd until there are at least fifty, with many more watching from a distance. I wonder if every envoy receives this big a greeting party. Now that I think about it, Vaemor probably doesn’t get many visitors; it’s all dead, devoid of sunlight, and full of vampires. Not a lot of travelers passing through these parts, for business or pleasure, I imagine.

Excruciatingly long seconds pass in silence, with Darius and Timót in a winner-take-all staring contest with the locals. Finally, I see a figure in dark robes exit one of the taller buildings. A few deferential men walk behind him, I’m guessing they’re guards or servants. He walks with another, younger man, dressed in more modern attire, gold trim lining his black coat. The closer he gets, the more handsome and stylish he appears, almost as though he could be--

“Brother.”

He addresses Darius before I can finish connecting the dots. Darius doesn’t say anything back, only offering a swift nod before moving his gaze to the older vampire, who can only be the king.

“You’ve been away for some time, my son,” Vladimir says, his wrinkled face and pitchy voice the epitome of villainous. “It seemed you had strayed far from the prophecy.”

“Well,” Darius says, clearing his throat in that way people do when they’re fighting the urge to say what they really think. “It seems there’s no such thing as a tidy ending to a prophecy as old as time.”

Darius’ father smiles, making sure to show his long, yellowed fangs as he does. I can’t imagine how many lives those daggers have taken, and I try to push the thought out of my head before I start doing any nauseating calculations.

The vampire king turns his attention to me, the hideous smile still resting on his face. “Here you are, in the... flesh.” He takes his time with the last word and lets his eyes drift over my neck and down to my child. It puts me a big step closer to pulling the pin on atomic bomb Bernie.

I sense an urgency in my legs to step forward, to move closer to the monster as he looks back up from my baby and into my eyes. It’s a familiar feeling, and I know immediately he’s trying to compel me. I stare back at him, willing my legs to stay right where they are. I push back with my mind, fighting to compel him instead. After a few grueling seconds, the pull in my legs fades away, as does the vampire’s smile.

“Hm,” he says as he studies me. “I suppose I should have expected as much from a witch who is so desirable. Very good, girl. This means the blood of your child will be that much stronger.”

Leaving me with that charming sentiment, the king turns to Timót and stares expectantly.

My father quickly picks up his cue. “My name is Timót. I sired the mother of the Last Witch and brokered the deal that brought her safely here. I’ve been promised eternal life in exchange for the child.”

Vladimir quickly looks from Timót to Darius, cocking an eyebrow. “Brokered a deal, Darius? A very bold move for someone so eager to toy with treason.”

As mad as I already am, I feel my blood boil a little more, and I know it's Darius that I feel. I may never understand what’s driving his decision-making in all this, but it has nothing to do with loyalty to his father.

Before Darius can speak, his brother steps in on his behalf. “I think we can trust that the challenges presented have been substantial, father.” The brother looks between me and Darius, trying to glean a little insight from our expressions. There’s probably too much going on for him to get a clear picture.

I’m certainly clueless about half of what’s happening, particularly if it involves my tratorious vampire lover.

“This is why Darius was sent and not you, Emerus,” King Vladimir says with a grunt. “You try too hard to see the good. And you may have rubbed off on your brother.”

Vladimir returns his attention to my father, sizing him up and weighing the bargaining chip. “Any reason not to simply kill you and take the child on my own terms?”

“Because...” It’s Darius speaking up on Timót’s behalf, which takes everyone by surprise. “I’ve made a pledge and it deserves to be acknowledged. If the vampires are saved by the blood of the child, why defy the wishes of the man who helped fulfill the prophecy in our favor?”

Darius standing up to his king father on Timót’s behalf instead of fighting to save Rain causes me more pain than I thought I could feel. I was sure my senses had been bludgeoned into numbness, but apparently I still have the capacity to break further.

Vladimir sneers at Darius, then shrugs. “Very well. No use wasting time arguing with your flawed reasoning, son. Best to bring the child to the temple with haste. Emerus, fetch the Ancients. We will begin immediately. We’ve no time to waste.”

Vladimir turns and heads back toward the city walls. Emerus lingers a second longer, looking into the eyes of his brother, then he disappears in a blur. By this time, I can see hundreds upon hundreds of the city’s residents watching from the tops of their buildings. Word has spread and they’re all stepping out to bear witness.

The nearest vampires follow their king, throwing the occasional look over their shoulder to see the Last Witch. The sacrifice that will give them the power they’ve desired for hundreds of thousands of years.

Timót comes to my side and takes me by the arm, leading me after the pack. Before I can lash out at him for the unwanted touch, he mutters under his breath. “I’m only standing close to protect you. While the vampires don’t care what happens to the Last Witch’s mother, I do.”

I can’t fight or argue with him, because even if he doesn’t give two shits about my life, he’s definitely not wrong about the vampires. To them, I’m just a body waiting to be drained. I can see it in their anxious, bloodshot eyes.

“You might not want to trust me,” my father goes on, “but you’ve heard the plan and know of my fleet. I’m your only hope for survival.”

I will say this: my father is the biggest piece of shit and worst father since Cronus. He’s also pretty smart and seems to have his bases covered in this impossible quest.

As we head toward the entrance of a small building, more and more vampires circle around us. It doesn’t take long for me to feel a modicum of comfort having Timót by my side, which I find disgustingly ironic. The vampires don’t bother to keep their distance, and I can feel some of them breathing against my neck and shoulders. I keep my arms wrapped tightly around Rain, who’s thankfully fallen back to sleep.

We walk through the rounded doorway of the stone building. The entrance leads to a stairway that descends into the rocky ground, and I’m suddenly worried that Timót’s plan has a giant flaw--how are we going to get a squadron of dragons underground?

The vampires lead us down the steps and into the darkness. Before we get too deep, the stairs turn into a level hallway. Looking past the people in front of me, I can see a sliver light trickling in from an opening at the end of the passage. The light gets steadier as we get closer, and at the end of the hall we step into a giant, open room. The ceiling above rounds into a dome, with an open mouth at the top, which allows me to breathe a small sigh of relief. Dragon door: check.

Then I see what stands in the middle of the space, and my breath catches again.

A large, stone slab sits in the center of a raised platform. The stone is at a slight incline, with grooves running down toward the vertical sides. Those deep creases lead to more lines, spider-webbing into a vast network that surrounds the altar.

A series of channels.

Below the altar.

For my baby’s blood to drip.

Do not let this happen, I plead to Darius.

It’s too late.

The words send a shock of horror through my body. It’s not just the sentiment, but the voice that’s doing the speaking.

Welcome to my kingdom. Vladimir’s voice pierces my mind, cutting it open to speak as he faces me from across the room while sitting in a large, obsidian throne.

I try my best to wall off my mind, praying I’ll never have to hear his thoughts again and hoping to God he’s not going to keep listening to mine.

The vampires that walked into the temple with us have climbed into seats above in rafters that circle about the room. We’re on a stage, everyone here to watch something abjectly grotesque.

Through an entrance at the other end of the temple, Emerus leads in a trio of men, their faces obscured by hoods. They move over to three stone benches that are stationed around the altar. I can’t see their eyes, but I know each of them is staring at me. Staring at my baby.

My body jolts when two hands tightly grip my arms. I struggle briefly to break free but it’s no use. I’m no match against vampire super strength, and I feel even weaker when my boiling blood shows that the one gripping me is Darius. A touch I used to long for now pushes me closer to my deepest despair. As he holds me, I feel the straps of the baby harness loosen and fall away from Rain. Vladimir coaxes the air with his fingers, controlling her little body as she lifts from the harness and floats toward the altar. A muffled sob escapes my lips as I watch her move away from me, my heart bursting from the gut-wrenching fear that I’ve touched my darling girl for the last time.

I glance down at my hands to see a familiar glow building within. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fend off the evil surrounding me for long, but I’m damn willing to light this place on fire and see what happens.

The moment I entertain the thought of putting my magic to use, a pair of fangs diving into my neck sucks all the air from that idea. Darius drinks away my magic, my blood, and my hope.

No, I think, perhaps not even audibly as I feel myself drain.

Wait, he says in response.

I don’t know what it means, but I’m surprised to finally get any connection from him in return. Wait for what? For my child to die? That’s exactly what I’m not willing to wait on.

“Do you plan to save any for the rest of us, Darius?” Vladimir’s joke is met with a chorus of laughter from the gallery above. My eyes open as Darius releases me, and I see that Rain now lies flat on the stone altar, the Ancients standing about and inspecting her.

“Just keeping her powers from overwhelming and killing you, father,” Darius snaps back. There’s no love lost between these two, and I’m not sure why he didn’t just let me burn the piece of shit to a crisp.

The Ancients move back to their benches, having completed whatever inspection needed to happen. Rain is now awake but completely still, as she looks around but makes no noise. She’s still under the control of Vladimir and I know she’s terrified.

Everyone’s attention shifts as my sleeze of a father steps forward. “I have fulfilled my end of the agreement,” he says. “Now I expect the same.”

The room falls silent as Vladimir stands and approaches Timót, the vampire king taller than I realized as he towers over my father--not a small man himself.

A kind of ancient power radiates out of him, and I bristle at the nearness of it even though he’s still several feet away from me.

I try to study everything and everyone, to learn what I can that might be of use in rescuing my baby.

It’s so hard to tear my eyes off her, but I know my focus should be elsewhere if I have any hope of getting us out of here.

The king leans in to speak to Timót, his voice cold and bloodthirsty. “Not everyone survives a Turning,” he hisses.

To my father’s credit, he doesn’t flinch. He’s still an ass of the highest order, but it’s good to see someone standing up to Darius’s super awful dad.

Looks like I’m not the only one with daddy issues.

“I’m prepared to accept any consequences of this decision,” Timót says with an air of confidence that doesn’t sound fake. He really believes he’s going to win.

That might be the scariest part of all of this. His unwavering confidence in the face of the king of vampires.

“Very well,” the ancient vampire says. “I will honor my son’s word--foolish though it may be--and give you our gift that very few receive. Let us hope you are worthy.”

My father just smiles, so freaking smug in his worthiness.

My heart thuds in my chest as I watch my child, praying for a way to save her before it’s too late. Hating Darius for taking the only means I had of protecting us. How could he condemn us to this fate? None of this makes sense.

Vladmir’s teeth extend into predatory sharpness and pierce Timót’s jugular. My father’s face is stoic as the vampire feeds on him, but after a few moments it’s clear the blood loss is having an excruciating effect.

The color drains from his face at an alarming rate. His body is shaking, and he looks ready to collapse at any moment.

Is Vladimir going to kill my father? Like, for good?

I want him to. I want my dad to pay for what he’s done with his life. At the same time, it can’t happen yet. Not until he’s done his part to save me and Rain from a city full of vampires.

The king lets my father fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I flinch, but I don’t feel any sympathy for my mom’s sperm donor.

I might have. Once upon a time. When I was a little girl with fantastical and silly dreams about who and what my father was. An astronaut stuck in space? A prince in exile who couldn’t risk our safety by coming to us? A spy who lived a secret life?

But adulthood disabused me of those silly notions.

What I do feel is an urgent need to do something, anything, to save my daughter while the vampires are distracted by this charming ceremony.

Throwing caution to the wind, I’m about to rush the altar and take my chances, magic or no, when a crushing grip squeezes my forearm painfully.

Wait.

Again, only one word. No context. No explanation. No nothing.

This is utter bullshit.

I let out a string of expletives into his mind that would make a sailor blush as I try to yank out of his grip to no avail.

So help me god if anything happens to my child I will stake your cold, dead heart, then behead you, then burn your body and scatter your ashes to the four corners of the earth and beyond.

I feel only sadness from him, but then it’s cut abruptly like a faucet being turned off.

My father moans, distracting me from my focus on Darius and back to the scene before us.

Vladmir is leaning over Timót, holding a bleeding wrist to his mouth. My father is drinking the vampire king’s blood.

The two of them exchanging blood can’t be enough to turn him. Darius and I have done that so many times, I’d for sure be a vampire by now if that were all there was to it.

There is more to it, the king whispers into my mind as he locks eyes with me. I clearly failed to keep that damn wall up.

He smiles in a way that’s totally creepy, and then very viciously snaps my father’s neck, killing him instantly.

And with that final, brutal act, the man who had been nothing more to me than a childhood curiosity turned nightmare, slumps to the ground.

I suck in my breath as Vladimir stands, his thin lips twisted into a gloating smile as he turns his attention to Rain.