The Vampire's Reflection (29 page)

“Do you mean, here?” Francis fumbled, for this was information not even he knew. Was that really how it worked?

“Yes, my friend. The underworld! Of course! All of that life must end up somewhere, for energy cannot be created or destroyed, right? That is really how it works.” Cicero answered the thought. “We are the undead—the opposite of life. We literally eat life force, do we not? We suck it up, and the more of it we consume, the more we thrive and grow. The more we grow, the more life falters in our wake.”

The flames before them began to twist and spiral, as if they were forming some sort of image. Instantly, it reminded Francis of Sarah and the loneliness swelled again. The picture within the blaze depicted dozens of figures. Two sides. And they were battling each other.

“The fates are beginning to set up something that the mortal world has predicted for a long while. Devastation. The end of their race.” Cicero continued to narrate as the images literally flickered before Francis’ vision. “Armageddon, as it were. But there’s just one thing the human population did not predict correctly.” Cicero waved his claw to change the images. A single Vampire rose up between the flames, and clinging to his massive arms were tiny figures of what looked to be human beings. “That is the conundrum. They have feared the darkness for thousands and thousands of years. Believing we are the representation of evil.” The fire twisted again, and this time it looked to be the profile of Aiden, but somehow it seemed altered. More malevolent than before. “They fear the very thing that will be their salvation. Do you not understand what we really are, Francis? Vampire was just the name given to us by generations of uneducated mortals playing some screwy little guessing game. We are much more than that. We are the fallen, created for a larger purpose. We have the power of angels—of gods; for that was the divine material we were designed from, given the dark gift by those others who had possessed the dark gift before us. Mortals slaughtered each other for centuries. Mortals have a thirst for blood, don’t they? They kill indiscriminately. And if they do, then so do we.”

Francis gaped wide-eyed at Cicero. “I do not understand what you desire of me. If something as grand as preserving the human race is at stake, what could
I
possibly do to assist you?”

Cicero only grinned and looked at him expectantly. “We want your ward.”

“Valek?” Francis blanched. “But why?”

“He single-handedly led your coven to take down something as powerful as the Regime.”

“If you knew this was on the horizon, why didn’t
you
just take care of them? The Parliament seems capable enough to handle a couple of Wizards….”

“The fates didn’t want us meddling. They were not ready for us to come into the picture. There’s a plan. That’s it,” he said as seriously as the daylight was deadly. “Sometimes, there’s just a proper order of things, and if the divine does not want you meddling, than you are to abide.” His gaze grew darker.

“Several hundred of our kind
died
, do you understand that?” Francis fought, slamming his fist on the arm of the chair.

“You are very bold to address an elder in such a fashion.” Ophelia, a female elder, and the only equivalent to Cicero as far as the chain of command went, approached the two of them. Her voice was penetrating and musical, like the tone of silver stroking a fine, crystal glass. It lifted the hair on the back of Francis’ neck. She was also lengthy, her movements as fluid and graceful as a serpent. Her eyes seemed an even more glorious shade of their normal blue, her silvery blonde hair slicked back off her face in a ponytail that cascaded down to the backs of her calves.

“Well, I just think it’s ridiculous.” Francis crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, but it angers me. Beloved members of my own coven died when you could have easily done something to destroy Aiden and his cronies.” He blinked furiously. “Just because some unseen force demanded you to stay here and sit on your hands—”

“Enough!” Cicero boomed and stood to his feet. The fire blistered higher and more fervently behind him, casting his long, black shadow across the entire length of the hall. “You will not disrespect me further, nor will you disrespect the divine order. Abide by me, and you will not face destruction.”

Francis, with his hands plastered fearfully over his lips, could only nod.

Ophelia joined Cicero’s side and folded his hand in hers. The fire behind him instantly calmed to a rumble. “We need the one called Valek. The natural leader. He will shepherd us in this war against the light. You will be our messenger who sends for him.”

“Might I ask what qualifies my
Valek
for such a task?” Francis crossed his arms over his chest again.

Cicero noticeably seethed, but did not anger completely this time. “If Valek could take your tiny coven and overthrow the leader of the entire magic realm, then we feel he is the best fit to lead our army to the very ends of this Earth. The rest of us lack the kind of control he possesses. He is shaped by the Devil, as we all are, but he is the one with the heart of God inside of him. He is the ultimate dark angel. The fates have decreed it, and so it shall be. We’ve been watching him for a very long time. We are aware of his unique situation, and while the girl has no place in our kingdom, we do have our own plan for her. She has already been beckoned here.” He shot a quick look toward Ophelia and broadened his stance. “He is not only to become one of us, but become our leader. If you do not comply, it will result in your immediate disintegration above ground at dawn.”

Chapter Eighteen

Impasse

The delicate color of dawn transformed into a bright and garish morning as the Demon animals continued to trample the crystal snow beneath them. It sparkled like diamonds in the harsh light. Soft and silver, it melted down from the trees to the forest floor as they continued to ride on in silence. Valek winced against the bright glare as he counted that it had been close to a week since their departure from the Bohemian Occult and their home. Something in Sarah’s mind told him she did not wish to speak to him. She had no words because she had no certainty. One thing Valek knew for sure about Sarah was that she hated being uncertain about anything.

Though Valek continued to stare straight in front of him at their path, he really watched Sarah intently in his perfect, peripheral vision. Her gaze was forced and squinted, as if she was so buried deep within her thoughts that even if he started to speak, she wouldn’t have become distracted from them. It reminded him of the night in Francis’ house when she had received the vision of Aiden and Charlotte getting married. Valek wondered if Sarah was receiving another vision now. She was so still. He wondered if the fates were speaking to her.

“You know what I find odd?” She barely flicked her glance in his direction, but something in her mind told him he’d gotten her attention. “Tyn nad Vltavou is a mortal city. Why would the Parliament be leading us to a place that isn’t part of our Occult circuit? Do you think it is a trap?”

Sarah sighed, “No. I don’t.”

“I do not trust it. What did this
messenger
look like?”

“He was one of you. Tall. Intimidating. He was surrounded by some unnatural darkness, though, so I couldn’t get a good look at his face. Funny.” She frowned. “The room wasn’t
that
dark. It was as if it emanated directly from his body. I’ve never seen that before.”

“I’ve been seeing a lot of things I’ve never seen before. Our society surprises me every day,” Valek grumbled.

“Speaking of surprises, did Francis ever say anything about that in all of his stories to you? What of his creator? Did he ever talk about that? I know he was an elder.” Valek narrowed his eyes at the memory. “I recall him telling me he never truly knew his creator very well. They did not share the best relationship. In the past, though, Abelim was not so coveted. There was no need to be, for the Regime hadn’t lost itself with power and greed yet. I’m fairly certain that dark quality you’re describing sounds like a new trait the elders picked up, as a way to guard themselves from being sought out. But it is only my guess.”

“Makes sense,” she mused. “I didn’t think Vampires possessed so many unique powers.”

“Like I said, I am surprised every day.”

They decided to continue on at a normal, human pace after Sarah injected the animals with the light Fae blood to keep them active during the daylight hours. Valek was uncomfortable about testing the limits with such newly changed creatures. At any moment they could rebel and take off, much like any other freshly cursed blood-drinker. And he didn’t want there to be a couple of demon beasts prancing around a world of mortals. He needed to assure himself they were obedient to him first. With Aiden still at large, he was sure it was only a matter of time before something would begin to snowball and steer off course. He didn’t want to be responsible for anything that might become the catalyst for that.

Valek glanced over at Sarah once again, noting Charlotte’s satchel hanging from the Witch’s pointed shoulder. Even from this distance, his acute nose picked up the scent that the bag still carried. It smelled just like her and an overwhelming feeling of regret spread through his chest again. Any time he pictured her sad eyes in his mind, that same feeling was resurrected. The feeling of regret.

She was probably waking up now from another night of slumber without him there. Probably bitter, wondering where he was and how he could have gone without her. He imagined her to be absolutely furious.

The morning surrounding them reminded him of one morning just about a week before. It was the morning he had taken Charlotte hunting in the daylight with him, when he’d pinned her against a tree and kissed the side of her neck—

A noise forced Valek out of his reverie. Charlotte’s face rippled away as though it were a mere reflection in a pond and someone had tossed a stone.

“
Valek!
”

“Yes! Wha-what is it?” he replied finally, though he didn’t look at her. He continued to fixate on the forested path before him.

“Jeez, what is wrong with you? I’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes! I resorted to throwing sugar cubes!”

“I apologize,” he said and turned to look at her. “What is it?”

“I’ve steered us off course.”

“What?” He hadn’t noticed they’d somehow managed to turn off the main path and were now traveling through a part of the forest that was completely unfamiliar. “Why would you do that? We have a very limited amount of time to find this city, Sarah! The animals will need harboring, and even
I
can feel my body running low—”

“Don’t you think I know that? I trusted
you
before. I let you do things your way. Now, I want you to trust me.”

“The Parliament gave us explicit directions,” Valek grumbled, yanking out the note from his breast pocket. He opened it and turned it to the map on the other side. Just like he anticipated, the inked path had changed. It no longer showed Tyn nad Vltavou. Now there was an odd sort of drawing that looked to be a home. He hated not having a course of action—a simple direction. It unnerved him that absolutely nothing was planned out. “What is this? Where are we going?”

“Valek, you need to calm down for us to find what I’m looking for. The fates do not answer to our selfish demands. They answer questions. They steer us where we need to be. I’m telling you to trust me. Now look.” She stretched her index toward a tree trunk. Valek noticed a strange image etched deep into the bark of the tree as it passed. “And look over there.” She indicated a different tree with the same rune. It looked like…an
eye
.

All of a sudden, Valek noticed that every surrounding tree had individual eyes carved deep and intricately into their trunks. And there was something more. Were they…moving?

“What is all of this?”

“They are Witches’ runes for protection and staying hidden. They keep the mortals away and the likes of you out as well. But she knows we’re coming.” She smiled in utter excitement.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to see my Elder.
My
leader. Perhaps an elder of my kind can lead us to an elder of yours.”

“But we
have
clear directions, Sarah!”

“I know that. But I also think we can use some extra help to find this place faster, don’t you?” She lifted an eyebrow, and Valek got quiet.

As they pressed on, thousands of wooden eyes blinked back at him from the trunks of the forest before him. They shifted and blinked, just as his own eyes did. Valek began to recognize this not from his time knowing the magic world, but from about a hundred years back, when he’d still been human. When he was a little boy and his mother read him the haunting bedtime stories of Baba Yaga.

“So, has your brilliant mind deducted where we are going yet?” Sarah grinned and pressed Jiri to move a bit faster over the glistening snow.

“I believe so. But I do not want to give away my guess yet in the event that I’m wrong.” He frowned, continuing to study the forest before him.

“Judging by the odd mix of confidence and wonder I see on your face, I don’t think you’re wrong. But just in case, I’ll give you a few moments more to figure it out.”

They continued to ride forward through the blinking forest. A few of the trees eyed him as they passed. He studied them with a question in his mind about what enchanted them.

“Those are her many eyes,” Sarah murmured softly to him. “She’s watching us.”

And then, as if on cue, there was a small parting among the dense forest where a cobblestone footpath began to lead them up a shallow hill. Sarah went first, Valek and his horse filing after. The path was so narrow and lined with dozens of lanterns carved from birch, stuck so deep into the forest floor, they seemed to grow out of the soil. Candles flickered behind the cobalt-stained glass of each one, in spite of the daylight.

The path seemed to go on for about thirty minutes, until finally, a smoking chimney emerged from treetops that seemed to be growing ever shorter. The snow also ceased to fall, and Valek could finally see the forest floor as though it were autumn again. Pine cones littered the ground between the various colored mushrooms that popped up from the dead pine needles. They continued forward, until before him, a modest, wooden cabin appeared through a thicket of trees. It was lifted from the ground by pairs of massive chicken legs under each corner of the foundation. The windows were rickety, nearly falling off their hinges, and the shingles on the roof were layered in uneven, dirty rows. This was most certainly the house of the ancient, child-eating hag. Valek shivered with the human memory of his mother’s stories. It was just as he imagined.