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.