But Morgan showed one final mercy and did no such thing. The Ancient had not found me yet, so I did not have the benefit of his blood. I was left to heal entirely on my own.

  I went after her when I recovered days later only to discover she had already set voyage for the new world. I did not follow.

  But I vowed then and there that I would dedicate myself to wiping out all of her kind, to ridding the world of witches, starting with her own long-lost sister.

  Certain events along the way diverted my attention, and then realization dawned that building a coven was the best I could do to ensure the strength I wanted from my children’s sacrifice.

  So, I set out to find others to join me. Dagan was the first—after The Ancient, of course, but his relationship with me is reminiscence for another time.

  Yet, in the long years since, I’ve adapted. I discovered how limiting, how wrong my distaste for magic was.

  Magic could enhance everything. It was only envy that made me hate it before. But if I could tap into it myself, if I could make use of it on my own…

  Well, that envy would become a thing of the past.

  And now I have, after many long years of secret study, of patience, of biding my time. Yes, I had the numbers to attack Morgan’s coven long ago. I could have overtaken The Haven on pure might.

  Yet such a victory would be bittersweet because Morgan would have always been one-up on me. And after what she did, I knew I had to prove to myself that I could best her when it was just me and her alone.

  I open my eyes. Dagan has taken the girl. I feel them hurrying out of The Crypts.

  There was something about her that tickled the back of my mind. In the end, I attributed it to just another pretty face.

  A vampire as weak as her does not warrant the full attention of the King.

  I walk to the room where my sacrificial vampires are kept. When I enter, I stop and take a deep breath, satiating in the potency of their spoiled blood.

  I open a secret compartment in the wall and take out a small carving knife. I hold it in front of my chest with both hands. I concentrate on it, feeling the hilt against my palms, feeling the tip quiver in the air.

  In one large burst I call upon the swirling Elemental Forces and direct them into the base.

  They course through me, boiling my blood and exerting a great internal pressure. I fight against them, taming them as one tames a wild beast. The miasma storms across my eyes. I can feel the physical flecks of corruption roll against the surface of my eyeballs. More and more power I feed into the blade, until the metal is glowing, alight with unknown energies from a different world.

  And then I approach each vampire and swiftly slice a cut along his throat.

  They all make gurgling sounds as the blood pours out. The Blood Magic I put into the weapon ensures the wounds all seal before draining the vampires of all their blood. The blood leaks down their bodies, staining the skin, before dripping into the buckets lined underneath.

  I return the weapon to its hiding place and then kneel before each bucket. I slip my hands in and cup out whatever is there. I bring it to my lips, the poison, corrosive blood, infused with the elements needed to give Blood Magic to me. I sip it delicately, just a little from each source.

  I have to be careful not to drink too much. As the blood goes down my throat, it burns. The vampire essence inside me does not heal me. It cannot—the first requirements of accessing the forces through Blood Magic is surrendering completely to the corruption it brings.

  That had always been the largest stumbling block. The vampire essence works indiscriminately. I had known of the arcane ritual required to give a non-channeler access to the Forces for years—it was only recently that I discovered how to nullify the vampire gifts so they would not interfere… and thus, make all this possible.

  The secret, of course, was so obvious that it angers me I did not see it earlier. Silver. Drink blood infused with silver, and that silver will scatter the vampire essence away.

  Of course, I could not simply drink blood with silver added. That would not be enough. The blood has to be made while exposed to silver.

  Hence, the three tortured vampires I keep.

  The poisonous, corrupt, noxious blood settles in my stomach. I place a fist on the floor to hold my balance as the nausea takes hold. My body is fighting the intrusion, but it cannot win. The battle, each and every time, ruins me a little bit more.

  That is the price I pay for the immense advantage offered by Blood Magic.

  My insides twist and burn. I have an almost unfathomable desire to hurl all the blood out. I grit my teeth and will it to stay in my system, waiting in agony for the blissful moments when the blood is fully absorbed and out of my stomach.

  Meanwhile, vile visions of black and red, of corruption and death, fly through my mind. Each time I take more blood in this sacrifice the visions become worse and worse. They become more and more immediate, until it’s almost like I’m living them in the flesh.

  Long minutes pass. Half an hour. An hour. I remain still, not willing to move, forcing my body to absorb the poison that will grant me even more access to the Elemental Forces.

  Each time I drink I find my ability to channel expands. But each drink comes at a cost, and that is this horrible feeling of malaise that I have to simply accept.

  Finally, it all passes. I cough, spitting up a little blood. Disgusted, I wipe angrily at my mouth.

  Then I right myself, very slowly, and stand.

  A curse escapes my lips when I realize the essence of one of my hostages had been extinguished.

  I walk up to him and spit on the ground. “You disappoint me, Gavin,” I say. “I thought you had more will in you.”

  I go back to retrieve the secret knife and slice through his wrists, severing both his hands. His limp, lifeless body collapses forward from the wall.

  I kick at him in revulsion. “Because of you,” I say, “another of your brothers must suffer.”

  I sigh and turn away, thinking of who best would be the next victim—when I come across the shadow of The Ancient looming at the door.

  Anger spirals through me. “How long have you been there?” I demand. “How long have you watched?”

  “Long enough to see what you are doing,” comes the cryptic, telepathic reply.

  I sneer. “You know how important this is for us.”

  “Not us. You. I never wanted to be King.”

  “And hence, our great partnership,” I mutter, shouldering past him. “Are you here to clean up the mess, or did you want to speak?”

  “I have heard from my brother,” he tells me.

  That makes me freeze in place. Felix is our greatest strategic advantage when it comes to facing the other coven.

  “And?” I ask, voice dripping with impatience.

  “I will tell you in my rooms. Come with me.”

  I grumble under my breath, only barely able to suppress my anger. I know The Ancient is a more powerful vampire than I. I also know that now, I can destroy him with the Blood Magic I possess.

  That should have changed the power dynamic between us. At the very least, it should have made him treat me with an ounce more respect.

  But he is altogether oblivious to my new might. Either that, or he doesn’t care, which rankles me even more.

  That means he has some sort of knowledge I do not possess, which would make him into a more terrible adversary than I expect.

  Still, it doesn’t really matter. He and I have a symbiotic relationship.

  I do not intend to rid the world of him just yet.

  We go through the secret tunnels reserved only for the King until we reach his chambers. He has the grandest rooms in The Crypts, and nobody knows it but he and I. If the other vampires discovered I deferred to him this way, it would erode the hierarchy of this place—it would make me look weak, submissive.

  Luckily, The Ancient has no interest in letting anybody know. These rooms can only be accessed from the secret passages, and any regular vampire caught in there is sentenced to death by fire.

  In my time, none have tried to test my willingness to sentence them to that fate.

  “Your vampires grow fat,” The Ancient says abruptly. “While they feast on blood every few days they are losing their instincts. They have no hunger. You are making them stronger, but you are dulling their ability to kill.”

  “The vampires will do as I ask when the time is right. They are reliant on me. You know that.”

  “They are complacent,” The Ancient says. “The things my brother has seen, they will not be able to fight.”

  I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “I find that hard to believe.”

  But then The Ancient explains what he’s heard about the Tentoria, and a shiver of discomfort crawls down my spine.

  I crush it immediately.

  “You said they were taken care of, destroyed by their new Queen.”

  “That is what I heard. Yet how are we to know? If all those thousands hid beneath the earth, so many more might be there.” He looks at me gravely. “ Even I did not detect anything unusual when I ventured to The Haven.”

  I consider the implications of that for a minute. “That is troubling,” I admit. “Still. It seems the threat has been extinguished.”

  “What if it has not? What if these creatures are under their control? Your vampires will not stand a chance in the attack.”

  “You know our destiny as well as I,” I growl. “We are meant to inherit the earth. We shall cover this planet in eternal night and hold our place in proper dominion of all man!”

  “You do not have the girl from the prophecy on your side,” he says.

  “Not yet. Eleira will be gotten. When her coven falls, she will have no choice but to submit to me.”

  “If she doesn’t? If she is killed in the fighting, Logan, what then?”

  I fix him with a sly look. “You’ve been thinking this through, haven’t you? This is the most talkative you’ve been in years.”

  He gives no reply, instead simply searing that hard gaze into me.

  I grunt in exasperation. “If Eleira dies, we will simply do without her. Prophecy must be fulfilled. But that same prophecy may be twisted without her. Twisted in our favor.”

  “Do not be so ready to test fate,” he warns.

  “And what do you know about fate,” I snarl, growing angry with his attitude. “You’ve been bound to me for hundreds of years, been nothing more than a vessel from which my vampires drink their blood.”

  His expression barely shifts, but I can feel the harsh disapproval in his eyes.

  I realize what I’ve said and quickly back-pedal. “I’m sorry. I know you are free to leave at any time.”

  “Do not confuse me with them, Logan,” he says. “Those vampires in the banquet hall are your subjects. Not me.”

  “I know, I know, I know!” I exclaim. I start to pace the room. “I know you are here of your own will. I am sorry for what I said.”

  “Do not say words you do not mean. The apology rings hollow. You are becoming arrogant”.

  “Is that a censure?” I demand.

  He ignores the question. “You let somebody very important walk away from us tonight.”

  “Who, Dagan? Forget him, he is past his time. His heart is not in it anymore—”

  “Not him. The girl he brought. She is of prophecy, too.”

  I bristle. “What? How do you know?”

  “I feel it. When she arrived I had the Divine Sight.”

  I curse. “Now there’s a second girl of prophecy? Why didn’t you tell me before? Why did you not come to me while she was here?” I turn away, striding for the exit. “I’ll gather the guards. They will find her, bring her back—”

  “No,” the Ancient interrupts again. “You will not. That is not meant to be.”

  I turn back to him, lips curled up in a rictus snarl.

  “Then why did you tell me about her?” I ask in a low, slow, dangerous tone.

  “She is related to you. You should have known.”

  “Related? What?”

  “She is your flesh and blood, much like Riyu was. If you did not see that you do not deserve to have her.”

  “And who are you to render judgment upon me?” I roar. My anger flashes. Without thinking, I reach for the Elemental Forces—

  A blast form the Mind Gift sends me ricocheting back. I crash against the wall before I even know it, and the Ancient is instantly on me.

  His hand is crushing my throat, fury raging in his eyes, and he holds me pinned like a bug.

  “If you ever again dare use Blood Magic against me,” he says in my head,” I will end your life.”

  I feel a sudden constriction in my chest. It becomes impossible to breathe.

  “Nothing will shield you from my fury with the Mind Gift wrapped around your heart. I can kill you from anywhere. Do not test my mercy again, Logan. You will find yourself in the red.”

  I choke and sputter for breath, as the constriction deepens. and my heart stops beating. I feel the life seeping out of me. I cannot move, and I cannot fight back. I cannot access the Elements to stand up for myself against this humiliation.

  Long seconds pass with The Ancient staring into my eyes. I start to feel like a small child, an infant, a bug.

  I am powerless against him, and my life force drains away.

  Finally, he lets me go. I collapse on the floor, gasping.

  “Your daughter was here, Logan, and in your arrogance, you let her go. You forget the virtue of humility. Let this be your final warning.”

  He turns away. “Channel magic against me again, and it will be the last time you ever do.”

  Slowly, as if walking under water, The Ancient strolls out. I feel his presence as he settles down in his bed and prepares for sleep.

  One last telepathic message comes to me before his slumber takes hold. “You spoil your vampires with my blood, and this will happen no longer. I shall give not a single drop to any vampire of The Crypts again.

  “And yes, Logan,” he finishes, “that includes you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  James

  Near The Crusaders’ Facility.

  After the demonstration with the obsidian orbs, I quickly make arrangements to leave.

  We will go to The Order’s vault, led by Smithson, and retrieve all the material needed.

  I tell Paul to lock this place up and secure it, ensuring that none of his men will come inside.

  He complies but tells me that first he needs to communicate with Beast about his whereabouts.

  I permit it and send Paolo to listen in on the conversation to make sure Paul doesn’t try something behind our backs.

  Smithson motions for me to talk in private. I indulge him.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  “I am not sure about the wisdom of bringing so many vampires along for the journey,” he says. “So many of us appearing all at once will raise suspicions. It should be only me and you.”

  I consider the request. “You are sure you want to be alone with me? I am stronger, and we still have bad blood.”

  He grunts. “I’ve proven my allegiance to you already. Why would I fight?”

  “You might provoke me,” I say carelessly.

  “Then it will be my fault.” He lets out a breath of air. “Look, James, like it or not, we’re working together now. You’re uncloaked—I can tell you’re stronger than me. What would I gain by going against you? This is the tired old game from before—we’re past that.”

  “Yes, yes, I guess we are,” I say. “So, you’re telling me you’d really rather go only with me?”

  “It will be easier for us to get the obsidian back that way. One man with me won’t cause any concern. I’ll simply say you’re a new recruit.”

  I chuckle. “I look a little young for a recruit, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You were an exceptional student at university, and your ability caught my attention,” he says laconically. “We’ve had young recruits before.”

  I think about it. “It might be better if it’s you and I,” I admit. “Fewer unknowns to think about. Fewer problems to consider.” I tap my lips. “The one thing I am unsure about is leaving Paul unsupervised.”

  Smithson hoots a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Victoria is more than capable of ensuring he stays in line. And Paolo is always going to be suspicious about him for his role in the death of his pack of vampires. Between the two of them, Paul won’t get away with anything you wouldn’t want.”

  “There’s something else,” I say softly. Something you’re not telling me.”

  Smithson grunts. “I’m also concerned Paul might be recognized.”

  I look over my shoulder at our newest vampire. The essence has cemented his features in place, but the augmentation has just begun. The creases in his face will always be there. But they are going to be beautified over time.

  Soon enough, Paul will be the most distinguished looking creature of the night the vampire world has ever seen.

  “I don’t know if it’s that likely,” I say, turning back. “But okay. I accept your proposal. We will go together, you and I.”

  Smithson holds out his hand. “Glad it was not difficult to convince you.”

  I grip it, then let him go.

  “Besides,” Smithson adds. “We don’t need more than two men to load a jet and transport the obsidian here. I can fly it.”

  “So can I,” I say. “And I’ll be doing that.”

  “Fair enough. While we’re gone, let’s not leave the others idle either.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “The Crusaders have Sylvia,” he tells me. “I want her back with us.”

  “Why? You heard Paul; she betrayed you. She can remain where she is. It doesn’t affect us.”

  “It does,” Smithson says gravely. “She knows all about what we intend. She knows all about Cierra. And she was there when you first did magic. She knows too much to be left to the enemy.”

  “Paul is on our side. He has absolute control.”

  “Maybe,” Smithson says. “But how long can an old man, who was previously on his deathbed, keep control of an organization that knew he was dying?”

 

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