The Vampire's Reflection (23 page)

“I need to stop going on like this. As if I were human. As if I had no power in this situation. I don’t have to play the cards we’ve been dealt. I know I can change our hand. You need to let me try.”

Charlotte bit her lower lip and nodded. Something about that hurt. She
was
human. Did he feel like
she
had no power in this—like she was helpless? In all her life, Charlotte had
never
been helpless. She could fight. She could change.

“More importantly, I want to stop feeling guilty. I don’t want to deny what this is anymore.” The look on his face suggested he was indicating the complications of their relationship now.

Charlotte stood to her feet, a different kind of heat rolling through her. In fact, she had completely forgotten about her scar. A new set of tears pricked her eyes, though she swallowed the grief down. “Nothing about what this is should cause you guilt.” She pushed out the words that were increasingly difficult to say. “You are mine.” She held her palm, the one with the line in it that proved this as fact, up to his face. Her other hand still held the towel intact around her. “If others object, it’s because they don’t understand, and I don’t care. I don’t want them to understand.”

Charlotte grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to hers, feeling one of his hands move between her shoulder blades to support her to him. Her fingers quickly and clumsily moved to trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he stopped her, already moving her back toward the bed. Her scar began its angry progression at the base of her throat, the burning starting out faint, though getting worse by the second.

“Listen to me carefully, Lottie.” His voice wavered and began to change. It grew deeper and rougher with each word he spoke. “When you wake tomorrow, I will be gone. But know I will be thinking of you each and every moment I am away. I am just as afraid as you are.”

He gazed directly into her fearful eyes before biting down, clinging fiercely to her throat. Her garbled screams were drowned out by her rapid pulsations in his ears as her blood gushed over his tongue. Normally, he was very careful when he did this. But this time, he needed to drink enough to knock her out, to give him and Sarah enough time to be a safe distance away. He was certain she was going to try and follow them in spite of his warnings.

Her pulse continued to pound rapidly, like the hum of a thousand angry hornets in his ears, as he held her in his arms. He lurched forward over her, still gripping her tightly. Her protests finally began to quiet as her body grew limp. Her pulse slowed as well. Suddenly the world around him seemed too quiet, and he knew she was almost gone. It proved to be very difficult, as her seeping, savory life provoked him to stay stuck there. But he forced himself free.

He tore away, coming up for air, craning his head as the remaining blood slipped down the back of his throat and he could feel his eyes shift back to normalcy again.
That
was the one thing he had the most trouble revealing to her. The way he
did
know how to love her was not the way she, as a human being, so desired. Her needs were not misguided, or wrong in any fashion. They were natural, normal, and beautiful. He recalled distantly how they’d felt when he was human. But the kind of creature he was now caused him to possess a craving that was all too different. He knew, deep down, Charlotte already understood that. In his mind, he had made love to her a hundred times before. For every time she sacrificed a bit of her life unto him,
that
was what it meant. Connection. Love. His thoughts instantly soured, recalling the despicable agreement he’d made with Francis as he and Charlotte were forced to seek refuge from the Regime.

Charlotte lay there cradled in his arms, her snowy skin aglow as he wrapped her among the pallid sheets, her breathing slight and staggered. The thick bed of eyelashes sealed her pretty eyelids. Her pulse beat faintly, like the wings of a dying butterfly. Valek sat up in the bed, focus not leaving Charlotte’s face. Her head rested delicately on the pillow as he tucked the thick, wooly blanket around her. Her scar from his first bite was red and inflamed, and as her eyes twitched, he could sense that the pain was still dying down.

Keeping one arm tucked beneath her sleeping body, Valek reached for one of his coats, hanging carelessly from one of the bedposts. From the pocket, he pulled out two chocolate beads Sarah had provided him for the possibility that someday, he might go too far. She’d handed them to him only a couple of days ago, telling him to keep them safe. It was as if she knew this day was coming. He squeezed his Lottie’s jaws open and popped one of them into her mouth, lifting her head so that it would slide down her throat. That would help her blood cells replenish slowly.

Overwhelmed, he inhaled deeply through his nose. Cool blood tears rolled down the sides of his face as he cradled her in the deafening silence. He licked at them as they fell down his cheek. In the past three hundred years, not one night had gone by that had been more solemn than this one. He reveled in it at the same time as he mourned its ending. It took every ounce of strength he had to leave her there. He lowered his mouth, pressing it to her fevered lips in a fierce kiss she could not return. It was his final good bye.

“I will not be gone long, Lottie. You know I love you. I will always return. Find a safe place. Do not trust the others. Do not believe what they say. They only want one thing from you.” He knew his words sounded bitter, but he meant them that way. After every disgusting act he’d witnessed committed by his own kind, not even his adopted coven was counted among friends anymore.

The bedroom door creaked slightly, and Valek looked to see Sarah standing there meekly, with one foot inside the room. Immediately, he pulled on his shirt, though left the buttons open. He could hear the tired apathy in Sarah’s mind.

“I have packed everything we’re going to need.” Sarah walked deeper into the shadowed room, the darkness swallowing her normally luminescent face. An ominous crease in between her fine eyebrows had replaced her bright smile. She held out a torn piece of paper to him. It was old, falling apart at various corners. “It’s another note from the Parliament.”

Valek tensed with that announcement. The Parliament. He remembered in detail the legends that Francis spoke about when he referred to the ‘Dark City’ and the coven that ruled it. The location was a secret. The members were a secret. Most Occult people didn’t even know if it actually existed, for they were so good at keeping themselves hidden. Valek, himself had never seen the city or its members personally. “The Parliament? Where did you get that?”

“From the messenger, himself. The dark man you spoke of. He only just delivered it to me a little while ago while I was downstairs in the study. There’s a map on the back of it,” she offered, turning the page over to show him. “We’ll need places to hide out on the way, I’m sure. And friends. Lots of friends.”

“I’m not good at making friends,” Valek mumbled.

“So I’ve noticed.”

“Well, what does the note say?” Valek asked, reaching for it. Sarah let him have it as he grasped at the seemingly ancient parchment and turned it over.

Take leave at dusk on hoof and spell.

Travel the darkness you know so well.

Come dawn, take heed,

The mortal bleed

Will lead you to us next Noël

~ The Parliament

“They’re directions, are they not?” Sarah crossed her arms.

“Yes, they are, but it’s more than that. Considering all the things I’ve heard from Francis about this coven, if we do not follow these explicitly, it could mean life or death.” Valek flipped it and carefully studied the map again.

“It tells us that the entrance to Abelim lies in Prague.” Sarah indicated with her finger. “Clever, clever they are. Prague is ‘The Golden City’. Abelim is ‘The Silver City’. They’re utilizing a sun-and-moon analogy. If day exists in plain sight, then the night must exist just under the horizon.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The city of Abelim is underground. Underneath the largest Occult in this country. Underneath Prague,” Sarah explained in a whisper.

“Something tells me this map only shows you pieces of the journey at a time. They wouldn’t just leave a document lying around that shows one exactly how to find them. They must be smarter than that, if even the cleverest Vampires don’t know where they reside. The note isn’t just directions. It’s also a puzzle. Look at the beginning of each sentence. Every letter they’ve capitalized stands for a city. Probably a safe house. They are giving us an underground railroad of sorts. They must know Aiden is seeking us. The first capital letter in the document is T, which stands for Tyn Nad Vltavou. I’m sure, for it appears as a point on the map. It’s only the first stop,” he deducted.

Sarah’s eyes grew wide at him. “That’s incredible.”

“I have the feeling the Parliament is the monster-form of the Illuminati. This quest might take longer than I originally anticipated,” he mused sourly.

“I’m confident we will find our way. What I’m worried about is remaining unseen. A lot of creatures want your throat, Valek.”

“So I’ve heard. Do you have a plan?” Emotionally exhausted, he shut his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

Sarah stayed silent for a moment. “I’m working on it,” she said finally.

He stared at her expectantly quirking his left eyebrow.

“Plans rarely work, Valek. Whatever is meant to be will be laid before us. You know I am a great believer in the fates.” She walked to the door, and turned back toward him one more time. She glanced at Charlotte. “How much time do you need?”

“Please, give me another few hours with her,” he pleaded.

“Until dusk, then,” she sighed and closed the door behind her.

Valek wheeled around, walked back to the bed, and let out a long exhale he’d been holding. Though he was a member of the Occult, he rarely believed in the unseen and definitely did not trust this secret group nestled somewhere underground. He crawled in again beside Charlotte. The sound of her light breathing mixed with the hushed beating of her heart pacified him temporarily, and he realized he was quickly running out of moments with her. He reached over, twining his claws around in her soft, vermilion hair.

Inching closer to the half-dead girl, he pressed his nose to the side of her head. He reached around, pulling her body close to his and held her there, feeling her warmth against his bare chest. How could he ever depart from her for so long?

“Charlotte, if you can hear me, I am going to make you a new promise. A few months ago, I promised that soon everything would return to normal and you and I would be alone together again. I’m not sure if that is possible anymore. So here it is. You are going to be happy. No matter what, you
will
be happy.”

Chapter Fourteen

Becoming

Nikolai sat on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through the jaggedness of the pain. He laced his fingers together at the back of his head. He had surely died and gone to hell. After all, where was his life now? No other pain he could manage to inflict upon himself could distract from the raging that was scalding him from the inside out. His family’s screams haunted him so heavily.

His chest was on fire. His heart felt as if it were going to ashes. The pain was sharp and relentless as it spread up from his sternum to the sides of his throat—deadly acid within his esophagus. Clenching his teeth together, he was afraid to open his mouth. For if he did, the flames would surely come shooting out. His gums throbbed. One—two. One—two. That was the only thing keeping him even remotely sane—counting every last pulsation of his still-living heartbeat.

Nikolai had been awake for only an hour, finding himself in this strange, new bedroom. It was old, its furnishings antique, as though he’d been transported into another time. Everything was garnet and gold. The tapestries. The bedclothes. The monster must have brought him there somehow. Last evening was the strangest he’d ever endured. After the odd boy had finished his explanation, and his request, he’d left Nikolai alone in the stark catacombs to digest all of the information he’d just been given. The boy said his name was Aiden. Aiden…an Irish name. How very odd. He didn’t expect this seemingly all-powerful being to be called something so…human. The bruises on his back, left over from when
Aiden
had slammed him against the stony walls, bothered him slightly when he shifted in the bed.

Upon examining this new bedchamber further, Nikolai found that Aiden had locked the door. Not that it mattered much. Nikolai wasn’t about to try and escape, for he had no idea what city he was in, let alone what
realm
he was in. Nikolai’s own ignorance was the thing that barred him the most. Not Aiden, the boy beast.

Last evening had been so eerily quiet and still. He’d lain on that stone slab, reliving the memory of his family’s slaughter over and over and over. He didn’t know how long it was going to haunt him. He almost didn’t mind it anyway, for at least he could continue to see their faces. He’d remained like that for hours, completely tormented by the visions of souls past, and it would probably continue to haunt him for the rest of his existence. He wondered when he’d fallen asleep long enough for Aiden to transport him up here. He wanted so much to
die
.

Finally, the bedroom door creaked open on its seemingly ancient hinges. Nikolai stared at the strange boy as he entered. A devilish smile played across his pale, inhuman lips, finally revealed. He’d taken off the scarf he’d initially worn around the lower half of his face. And what was more, was that there was a threatening pair of incisors just behind those lips. Nikolai stifled a gasp. What exactly was he? A Demon? A Vampire?

“We are ready to leave,” Aiden said, pushing his bangs behind one pointed ear, revealing the intensity of the unnatural color of his one eye. “The plan is in motion. We have to make a move now.”