Vampire Girl 3: Silver Flame (7 page)

"Tavian. Tavian Gray," he says, his eyes teasing me about something. "And of course, I already know yours, Kayla Windhelm. Was Windhelm a name chosen at random, or did it belong to your mother?"

"Yes," I say curtly, not wishing to discuss my mother or myself at all.

"Yes it was random, or yes it was your mother's?"

I sigh. "Yes it was my mother's. Now, can we not talk please?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Touched on a sensitive subject, have I?"

I stand, dusting off my pants. "Isn't it time to get going? We only have a few more hours until dusk."

He shrugs and stands. "If you say so, Princess."

"My name's not Princess," I hiss at his back as we both mount the horse once again.

He just laughs.

Infuriating man.

It's a long ride to wherever he's taking me. We travel through woods, avoiding roads and open areas. He's hiding from someone, or being extra cautious. But we're in the Outlands. He's Fae. What's he got to hide from? My questions yield nothing but more questions from him.

"Do you feel more loyalty to the Fae or vampire?" he asks.

"Neither. I'm loyal to myself and those I love." Included amongst that list is a vampire, a Shade and a human girl, though I don't tell him that.

"Why do you not support your own people more?" he asks.

"I assume you're talking about Fae? But how are they any more my people than the vampire? I wasn't turned. I was born this way. And while I might not have much position in the vampire world, at least I'm not outright shunned like I have been from those who are Fae. Your race is elitist and unwelcoming to anyone not pure blood," I say. "Perhaps you should be asking why my people aren't more supportive of me."

Tavian clicks his tongue and his horse responds, taking a left toward the sound of running water. "It is true, our people have not always been the most… tolerant, shall we say? But it seems as if that might be changing, if the new Midnight Star is any indication."

"There's a new Midnight Star?" That's news to me. I know the stories, more or less. That the Midnight Star is one born of Royal Fae blood, and it's their magic that awakens the Druids and the magic of the Fae. But the Fae haven't had a Midnight Star since the Unraveling, when the last of the Royal Fae were killed and all the Druids disappeared. I was born well after that time, so it's all just stories to me.

Tavian nods and turns his body to look at me. "I'm surprised you don't know. The story of the half-Fae Princess has spread through my people like wild-fire. And it was your people who brought her here. The girl from the other world, half human, half Fae, here to unite the world and bring the magic back to our people. Legends already abound about her."

I nearly fall off the horse at his words. I'm shaking and my thoughts form in pieces. He stops the horse and helps me dismount. "Are you ill?" he asks.

"This Midnight Star? What is her name?" I ask.

"Arianna. I think that was her name, yes." He hands me a bladder full of water and I drink deeply as he talks. "She was rumored to be with the vampires, but the Fae made a strong case for her ascension. She's the daughter of the last known Fae Prince, who was exiled to the human world many suns ago. She is a new hope for my people, or so they say. I have little care for Fae politics."

I look up at him, my eyes burning. "She's likely already dead," I say. "That's who I was trying to save when you captured me." My voice is bitter. Angry. "She was executed this morning in Stonehill, at least according to the letter I received." And now I know why. Levi, that bastard, must have found out what she was and had her killed. I will destroy him when I find him, that I vow. But why Fen? Why was he killed too? He probably did something stupid in defense of her. Stupid man.

I will my tears away and stare at the other stupid man in front of me. "Looks like your people have lost your hope," I say, praying my words act as a dagger in his gut.

But he doesn't look upset. He looks mildly bemused, which just pisses me off more. "She's not dead," he says.

"How would you know?" It's a hope my heart still clings to, but I don’t trust my captor.

"Her magic yet lives. Those of us connected deeply to ourselves can feel the awakening. Midnight Star is alive. So your friend must be as well. I would know if she had died."

Our break is short lived, and he has me back on the horse and clipping along at a fast pace, presumably to make up the time lost on my near breakdown. "Truly?" I ask him again, for the fifth time.

"Truly," he says. "I may be a vampire-killing, princess-capturing bastard, but I am no liar."

I choke out a half laugh at his words. "At least you have standards," I say sarcastically.

But he nods gravely. "A man’s word should be trustworthy. For when we are stripped of all that made us what we were, we have only our word left." He turns again to look at me. "I promise you this, Princess… I will sell you to whoever will give me the best price. I'm not claiming to be a good man. But I'm no monster. I will protect you on this journey. I will not harm you or let harm come to you. And I will not lie to you."

"I could almost like you," I say, "if you'd just drop the part where you sell me to the highest bidder like a slave."

He turns around abruptly. "War breeds a necessary kind of evil in all it touches. It turns even good men into raiders, killers, thieves."

His words sound much like my thoughts of late, and I look down, memories of burning villages and crying children filling me with shame and sorrow.

We travel a few more hours in silence before stopping for the night. My feelings are spilling all over each other—spiraling into a cacophony of fear and hope. If Tavian is right and Ari is still alive, does that mean Fen yet lives? Did they escape? That's the only thing I can figure. Levi wouldn't have altered their sentence once he'd taken a public stance. Which means there might still be time. To help them. Save them. To do something.

I have to get back to Stonehill, and right now we're going in the wrong direction. I do my part to help make camp, which includes collecting dry wood for the fire. I could run now, but I would have no supplies. So I plan.

Later, as we sit around the fire, I pass Tavian his dinner, a stew made from fresh meat he caught cooked with vegetables I foraged.

And then I wait.

It takes longer than it should.

Perhaps I underestimated the dose. Tavian is a big man, all muscle and brawn. But eventually he begins to slur his words and slant to one side, unable to sit up straight. I move to him and help him into a sleeping position. Then, once he's fully unconscious—thanks to some herbs I slipped into his meal—I tie up his feet and hands.

Part of me hates leaving him here this way. Drugged. Tied up. Without a horse, since I will take his to get back to Stonehill.

But I shrug off my guilt. He's Fae. He'll find help. And he tried to kidnap me and sell me to my enemies. Surely he doesn't deserve my sympathy.

Still. He saved my life. Nursed me back to health. And he has treated me kindly. For that, I leave him some food, the bed roll, and his sword. He'll be able to work out of the knots eventually, leaving me enough time to escape.

I stoke the fire and add wood to it, to keep night critters from getting to him. As I do, my hand plunges too close to the fire, and I pull back, expecting the bite of a burn, but instead, I feel nothing. I see nothing. I turn my hand back and forth, waiting for the tell-tale redness and swelling to show, but it doesn't. As a blacksmith I've had my share of burns, and I know this should have hurt. I wave my hand through the fire again.

When the fire does not react to my skin, I plunge my hand deeper into the flames, then pull it out. I'm covered in sweat, but not from the heat. My hand is perfect. Not a mark on it.

I don't know what this means, but I don't have time to dwell on it now. Instead, I retrieve my sword, pack some supplies, and mount the horse. I've lost too much time already. I must be off before the drugs run through Tavian's system and he awakens.

It's slow traveling in the pitch of night, despite one of the moons being near full. The coverage of trees keeps everything cloaked in heavy darkness, and I have to walk my steed slowly to avoid breaking his leg.

So I hear it right away.

The crunch of twigs in the distance.

The sound of a large body moving through tree and brush.

The heavy breathing of an animal far larger than me.

And then there is a great roar, and the horse whinnies and bucks, throwing me to the ground as it darts off into the night.

"Blast it all to hell!" I whisper through my shaking teeth as I try to right myself. There's another roar. I pull out my sword and squint, trying to see something other than the silhouette of trees in the darkness.

It comes closer, and it's huge.

By the time I see it, it's too late. A giant claw flashes toward me, swiping at my head. I duck just in time, and swing my sword blindly, hoping to hit something critical.

I think I just hit a tree.

Cursing, I scramble up and put my back against the largest trunk near me. It's the best cover I can find. Raising my sword, I wait for the next attack.

The beast is fast, pushing itself through bramble and bush without concern. Its girth shakes the ground beneath my feet. It throws itself toward me, a beast made of teeth and fur and muscle and claws. A black bear of the Outlands.

My sword nips at the bear’s shoulder, but doesn't slow it down.

Then something else growls in the night.

And the beast I'm fighting shrieks in pain as something attacks it.

I scurry away and keep my eye on the bear as I walk backward toward safety.

A white tiger with black stripes fights the bear.

The tiger is big, but nothing compared to its foe. But it's fast. And deadly.

They fight viciously, and I know I should run, but I'm frozen in place, unsure of what to do. This tiger is familiar. I remember dreaming about it when I was unconscious. But it was only a dream, wasn’t it?

I scramble to find any supplies that might have fallen off of the horse, but find nothing. At least I kept my sword on me. I continue backing away from the two beasts, sword still up, when the tiger swings wide, exposing its chest while trying to get the kill.

The bear doesn't hold back, and bites into the tiger's shoulder. The white beast groans in agony, but doesn’t falter. It claws through the bear’s throat.

They both crash to the ground, and suddenly the forest is silent. The bear remains still, but the tiger makes a pained noise and tries to stand. It falls again, and then scoots itself away from the bear and toward me, until it can no longer move.

It is so still.

I wait, holding my breath, to see if it will get up.

It doesn't.

Instead, the tiger slowly turns into a naked man.

It turns into Tavian Gray.

"Things aren't always black and white. Not in your world, and certainly not in mine."

—Asher

"What the ever-loving
Hades?" Sly says with exasperation as I run to Fen.

I feel his pulse, which is still strong. There's a wound in his side that doesn't look fresh, but reopened and is bleeding heavily. "He was tortured before coming here. He should have had a healer."

Sly shrugs. "That man has to be unconscious for my healers to get at him."

I raise an eyebrow. "So now would be the perfect time to summon one, don't you think?"

Dean nudges open my door, wearing nothing but a very skimpy pair of underwear that leaves little to the imagination. "What's all the noise?"

He notices Fen unconscious and the pile of man-goo on my floor and shakes his head. "I miss all the fun. I assume he's still alive?" He asks, looking at Fen.

"Yes, help me get him to bed."

Dean grins like the fool he is. "I thought you'd never ask. I wasn't kidding about that threesome."

"My no wasn't a joke either," I say pointedly.

Sly glances at each of us, then sighs. "I'm back to my slumber, kittens. Healers will be here shortly. Let's meet in my office at some later point to be determined by my level of awakeness."

The demon turns with a swish of his black gown and saunters out of the room as if he had no care in the world. I stare at the man-goo splattered across the floor, bile rising in my throat. Dean sighs dramatically but then lifts Fen in his arms as if the Prince of War is weightless.

Baron whines and stays at Dean's heals, nipping at him from time to time.

"Back off dog, or I might drop your master," Dean says.

Baron growls and I nudge Dean. "Don't rile him. His teeth are sharper than yours."

Dean winks at me. "You've never felt the bite of my teeth, Princess. But we can change all that. I promise I'm not a savage like Levi. You would enjoy it."

Levi wasn't the first to try to forcibly feed on me, and the idea does not elicit happy thoughts. I glare at Dean as I open the door to Fen's room, but the Prince of Lust ignores me. He’s laying Fen on the bed when a very short woman with tiny horns on her head hobbles in. She must be three feet at most, and mostly human-like, other than the horns and blue skin.

"I'm Cavery, the Black Lotus healer." Her voice is surprisingly high pitched and airy… not what I was expecting based on her looks. "Move over, let me tend to my patient."

Dean and I both step back as Cavery holds her hands over Fen and closes her eyes. Her hands begin to glow blue, and waves of light flow over him. She hums and creates intonations from her vocal chords not possible for humans.

Her song seems to mold the light, transforming it into different colors and shapes until it settles into Fen's body. His skin heals quickly, closing up the wound and even whisking away the blood. But still he sleeps.

"Why isn't he waking?" I ask, when she drops her hands to her side.

"The magic is still healing his innards. He needs rest, and the only way someone like him will rest is if he's unconscious," Cavery says.

"So you're keeping him asleep deliberately?" I ask.

She nods. "For now. Someone stay with him. He should wake naturally when he's healed enough, but even then, try to keep him from pushing himself too hard."

Dean laughs. "Good luck with that, Ari."

"Me? You could help, you know. He is your brother," I remind him.

"Yes, but he's much more susceptible to your charms, than mine," Dean says.

The healer leaves, and Dean follows her out the door, then stops before closing it behind him. "If you get too lonely, Princess, I'm just down the hall."

I roll my eyes. "Good night, Dean."

He winks at me, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Good night, Princess."

As the door closes behind Dean, I stare down at the man I love. He's pale, still, almost lifeless, but if I watch carefully I can see a gentle rising and falling of his chest. He's still alive. Healing, presumably. Safe, for now. I familiarize myself with his room, which is similar to mine, and use a remarkably modern bathroom to wash the grime and man-goo off me. Then I rummage through Fen's clothes until I find one of his shirts to sleep in. I don't want to go back into my room just yet. Not with the mess still on the floor.

Baron is asleep at Fen's feet when I crawl into the bed and scoot close to the unconscious Prince of War. He smells of pine and wood. His body is warm, but not hot. I place a hand gently on his abdomen and close my eyes. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I open myself up to my magic, the way Varis taught me.

There, just at the edges of my grasp I can feel a trickle of power, but I can't reach it. Why can some use their magic here, but I can't? There is so much I still don’t know. I need to find a way to be stronger, better. I need to find a way to help retake Stonehill and save everyone from Levi's evil rule. I need to find a way to end this war and bring peace to both the vampires and Fae.

***

Fen is already up and dressed when I wake the next morning. "You should be resting," I mumble, trying to shed the cobwebs from my morning brain.

"I've rested plenty," he grunts as he shrugs on his cloak. The thick brown fur seems too hot for indoors, and I wonder if he’s wears it more out of habit than necessity.

"You were badly injured last night," I say, sitting up. "We aren't safe here."

Fen signs, then sits down next to me and lays a hand over mine. "It was just a scratch, and this is the safest place we'll find."

We lock eyes, and for a moment I believe him, for a moment I feel safe.

Then the bedroom door creaks open, revealing a fully clothed Dean on the other side. "Good morning, Princess… brother. Ready for another exciting day of guess who's here to kill us?"

"Too soon for jokes," I say, remembering the man-goo from last night. "Speaking of, I need a change of clothes. Last night's are ruined."

"Clothes are overrated," Dean says with a smirk. "I can think of a better look for you."

Fen walks over to the door and kicks it closed. "Go away, Dean. We'll be out soon."

"Such unkindness," Dean says through the thick wood. "And here I was, just coming to tell you Sly is ready to see us."

There is silence for a moment, then the sound of heavy boots stalking away. Fen tosses me some clothes from his dresser. "These should cover you well enough for now. Undoubtedly Sly will just transform them to something he prefers regardless."

"He likes dressing his guests, I take it?" I ask, pulling on oversized pants and using a leather belt to keep them up.

"It's one of the necessary evils of coming to The Black Lotus," Fen says with a frown.

I laugh. "There are worse things than nice clothing," I remind him as we leave the room and head to Sly's office.

Fen side-eyes me. "I'd rather deal with the worse things," he says.

The hallways are long, wide, and elaborately decorated with art and artifacts that look foreign to our world: A carving of a creature that looks half-snake, half-bird. A statue of a stumpy beast resembling both a turtle and a mouse. Not like anything I’ve seen in Inferna or Avakiri. "Where is all this stuff from?" I ask.

"Different worlds, different realms," Fen says. "Sly's a bit of a collector. It's considered courtesy when staying as a guest to bring something from your world to gift him with."

"Did we bring something?" I ask.

"Not this time, but we've given him many artifacts from Inferna."

Sly and Dean are sitting in front of a fire sipping drinks when we arrive. Sly stands, arms outstretched, greeting us as if we haven't seen one another for months, rather than hours. "So good to see you both well and refreshed, if so poorly dressed." He pulls out his wand and without another word, spells us into new clothes.

Both of us now wear the same regal costumes he put us in last night. "I'm surprised," I say. "I didn't think you were the type to wear an outfit twice in a row."

He laughs. "You know me well, already, my lovely kitten. But you had so little time in this beautiful ensemble, it seems only fitting."  He hands us each a drink and gestures to platters of food on the table. "Help yourself to anything you fancy. I apologize for the unpleasantness of last night." His smile slips and his eyes glow red for a moment. "The Prince of Envy has some explaining to do," he says with a fair bit of menace.

Fen and I sit, with Baron at our feet. I notice Fen's glass contains a dark red liquid that I'm guessing isn't wine. I sniff at my glass, but it seems to be ordinary orange juice. I sip it cautiously, just to make sure.

"The Prince of Envy is my problem to deal with," Fen says. "He won't live long enough to explain anything to you, Sly."

I purse my lips and as I take another drink. I don't disagree with Fen, but I hate that after so many years of immortal life, their family is falling apart and going to war because of me.

"Be that as it may, I've taken the liberty of increasing security here," Sly says. "No one gets in without my permission."

"So we're safe?" I ask.

Sly nods.

But Fen doesn't look convinced. "There are always ways to get to someone," he says.

"That is true," Sly says. "I can only control The Black Lotus. Are you vulnerable in other ways?" he asks, addressing me.

"What do you mean?"

"Is there anyone else Levi can use to get to you?"

Blood drains from my face as his meaning settles into me. "My mother," I whisper. "He could go after my mother's body at the hospital."

Fen shakes his head. "Won't happen. The contract protects her. Levi can't break the contract."

I let out a deep breath. "Are you sure?"

Fen and Dean both nod.

"Okay then. That's good. But… what about my friends? Es and Pete?"

Sly shrugs as he pulls out a cigar from his black silk robes and lights it. "In his position, I would target them."

The smell of pine and smoke fill the room as Sly puffs on his cigar. It's a musky scent, but not unpleasant.

"I need to warn them."

Dean shakes his head. "And what good would that do? Your friends know how to fight a Prince of Hell?"

My hand tightens around my drink, my brain scrambling for ideas. "Can they come here? For protection?"

"No," Fen says.

"Of course," Sly says, cutting him off with a smile and a flourish of his hand. "For a price."

Fen looks at me. "Don't bring them here. It's not worth it. Sly always takes more than he gives."

Sly clutches at his chest. "Please… you wound me."

I ignore him and turn to Fen. "Can you promise me they will be safe if I don't?" I ask.

I see him struggling to answer, because I know what he will say if he's being honest, and he knows what I will do with that answer. Finally, he speaks. "No."

"Then I have no choice." I look at Sly. "I will owe you a favor, if you keep my friends safe until the threat against me is eliminated."

Sly claps his hands and grins from ear to ear. "Wonderful. You must summon them at once then."

I nod. "Great. How? Do you have some kind of portal or spell I can use?"

"Oh darling! We aren't in your prince's Middle-earth anymore," he says, reaching into one of the many hidden compartments of his robes. "We have cell phones here."

I look down at the shiny silver device he hands me, enjoying the smooth polish of glass and metal. It seems like so long ago that this was a daily part of my life. I turn it on and type in Es's number first. When she answers, all I hear is the sound of shouting.

"You best be getting your ass out of here if you know what's good for you," Es yells in her fake southern accent to someone in the background.

A man lets out a string of expletives, and I hear glass shattering. Someone calls for a broom.

"Es? Hello?" Did she even mean to answer or have I been butt-answered? Is butt-answering a thing? I imagine it must be. The opposite of butt-dialed.

"Hello, one moment. I'll be right with you," she says into the phone, before she continues shouting at whoever crossed her.

She's on speaker, and all the guys in the room listen to the exchange with a range of facial expressions. Sly is entertained. Fen bemused. Dean amused.

"Thank you for holding," Es says. "Some twat-weasel thought he could stiff us the cost of his meal and harass the staff, all in one glorious hour. He's now on the Wall of Shame. Who's this?"

"Es, it's Ari. I'm in Portland—"

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Her pitch rises in decibels that threaten to blow my eardrums. "Ari. Where are you? How are you? Where have you been? I've been so worried about you. You've been gone longer than normal."

That's true, I realize. My time in the dungeon was extensive. It felt like a lifetime. "I have a lot to tell you, but first I need you and Pete to pack a bag and let your jobs know you had an emergency come up. I'm sending a car for you."