Chapter Twenty-Six

Bloodlust

The smell of burning wood spiraled through his lungs when Valek finally awoke. Smoke crept in through the thin, stone crevices of the mausoleum. He pushed quickly off the slanted wall where he had been resting and with all his might, pulled the door back to reveal winding orange flames billowing high into the stars. Panicking, he bolted from the small grave, dodging through the fire.

“Valek!” Sasha called out. He had just awoken as well, crawling from his own crypt.

“Help me get the others! We have to get out of here!” Valek commanded, ducking under a burning tree limb to pull the doors open to the center crypt where Francis rested. “Francis!”

I’m here, Francis’ mind answered him. He pushed the stone apart from the inside and grabbed onto Valek’s arms to get above ground.

“They must have found out we were here. The entire forest is burning,” Valek said.

Sarah crawled out from the grave as well, coughing up the smoke.

“Sarah,” Francis began. “Which way do we continue?”

“We have to go northeast. I’ll get rid of the fire, but we need to hurry,” she finished, before she started running for the edge of the field.

Valek and Francis darted through the graveyard to help the rest of the coven to safety. The smoke would have been blinding for any human or animal, but they saw right through it. As Valek ran to help Lusian, something gold glinted in the smoldering grass by the base of the Ezekiel statue. He grabbed for it. Andela’s lost wedding band. He stopped, turning back to glance at the mausoleum where he’d left her resting.

“Valek! Come on! Sarah’s spell is about to wear off!” Francis called, as the rest of the coven had been resurrected. Valek could also see the silhouette of the large spider on the other side of the flame walls. He had already made it out. Valek turned back to where Andela was, held the ring up and nodded at her, and put it in his pocket. He leapt through the opening in the flames, but the icy blue eyes of his coven did not meet him this time.

“Valek, run!” He heard Sarah scream out.

His gaze circled around the embers, searching for her face. One by one, fire Elves emerged from all corners of the perishing graveyard. Each one had a dour grin about their slanted faces as they set their eyes on the only Vampire left in the burning field.

Valek took off like a condor in flight. He burst through the flame walls. Valek felt them pursuing close behind him. Out of one corner of his eye, he saw a ball of flames rip through the trees toward his head, then another, Panicking, he switched directions—the entire forest melting together into the same tree. The flames continued to fly around him. But there was no way to escape them. He suddenly skidded to a stop in the mud and mulch. He looked up to see the army of Regime guards had slowed also, but were ever approaching.

The head officer grinned maliciously, fists blazing at his sides. “Your Charlotte is dead, Vampire.”

Valek searched the Elf’s thoughts and found what he said was indeed true. He was not lying. His chest sank to his spine. His heart to his stomach. “Say again, Elf?”

“The Lord Vladislov killed her. However, it is such a pleasure to see you again.”

The forest around Valek spun as he stumbled backward onto a tree trunk. The deep indigo shades of the night only looked black and gray now. He opened his mouth, gazing at the muddy floor that seemed to suck him under. No cries ripped from him. No lamenting bellows escaped his jaws to linger in the tree canopies. No ruby tears buried themselves in the dirt below his face.

“What did you expect? She was human, living in the underworld. How did you ever believe she would survive?” The fire Elf continued, growing ever nearer to Valek.

Valek shut his eyes against the world, clutching the bark to keep him there. How could this be the vision Sarah had seen? Gone? How could she who had been there for too short a time be gone? He opened his eyes again, and though the infantry now stood just before him, he did not see them. But he would see her again, he decided, and held his arms out to them. If they killed him, then he would fight the armies existing in heaven so he might see her there.

“There, Vampire.” The officer snapped shackles closed across Valek’s wrists. “This will all be over very shortly.”

“Valek!” A small voice cried out somewhere from behind the Elves. “Don’t listen! It’s a trap!”

Valek’s eyes widened. “Charlotte?”

“They are lying, Valek. They are using magic to guard their thoughts from you!”

He peered around the officer to see Sarah in the shadows atop the spider. A wave of true reality punched him in the ribs. He turned on the Elf in front of him, the cold flesh in his face an entirely different shade of gray. His pupils swallowed the rest of his eyes in a consciousless void and an enormous roar, like a demon escaping hell, tore open the Elf’s inner ear.

The platoon turned at once on their heels and started retreating in the direction they came. Valek tore the shackles from his wrists, sending the splinters flying out around him as he trailed them now. He leapt from trunk to branch, and back to the earth, until he caught up. The guard was just in front of him. Valek reached out one of his claws and tore into the Elf’s shoulder blade.

He cried out as Valek sent him flying headfirst into a large pine so hard it cracked the guard’s skull. He was dead on impact, but Valek continued for the rest.

The officer at the front of the pack wheeled around, sending a large fireball in his direction. Valek ducked as the thing flew just over his head. His eyes were fixed on the next one in front. He leapt at him like a wolf as they tumbled through the dirt. Valek ended up on top as they stopped against the face of a boulder.

He bent down, ripping out the jugular, careful not to swallow any of the Elf blood. He leapt up again and continued, aiming for his next victim, until one of the officer’s flames did finally strike him. Valek rolled down one of the hill banks in the dark woods, the flames spiraling with him. They went out in the dirt as his back slammed against a very large oak. Valek breathed, the humanity returning once again to his body. He turned his muddy face to the sky just as it opened up.

The remaining squadron advanced down the hill where he fell.

Valek’s vision started to refocus. He could see amongst the platoon was his coven.

All of them had been captured, including Edwin and the Phaser. He looked at each of them sorrowfully.

I'm sorry, Valek. We tried, Francis thought.

“Let’s go.” The officer leaned into Valek, reshackling him with silver this time. It burned lightly at the flesh by his wrists as they pulled him up and led him to the hill toward Prague.

***

Charlotte, once again, had been locked within her bedchambers, forbidden to see Aiden before the wedding. They’d spent the entire day together in the vast gardens surrounding the Regime palace. That morning the maids of the palace had removed all of her dingy clothing and scrubbed her from head to toe in a lavender and gold-leaf bath. She couldn’t remember the last bath she had taken. They had tried to remove the whistle around her neck, but something deep within made her refuse to take it off. She held onto it tightly, even now as she sat clean, wrapped in nothing but the red sheets of the bed.

She held the thing close to her face, studying the details in it. The lion with dueling tails—the national symbol for Prague—was etched in fine detail on one side.

She thought of Prague, then; the city just outside the palace walls, the towering spires seeming to meet the moon in the sky every night—forbidden lovers. She saw the golden light cast by the many lamps that lined the street. She had been born there, she thought. It was a vision in her very distant past. She was quite small, she remembered, and lying on her back. It was cold, and she was watching the stars in the sky twinkling down at her. Someone had left her there, she distantly recalled as she continued to turn the whistle over and over in her hand.

There were lots of people around. A lot of human people like her. She remembered seeing nothing but their feet as they walked past her. But there was something else in her memory. A pair of hands. She thought of the moon again. These hands looked like the face of an oyster, pearl-like in essence. They were long, and slender, and cool, and when they slid underneath her back, they made her shiver.

She shivered once under the sheets of the bed, though the room was not cold. It was just the mere memory of those hands. She remembered seeing the moon’s face then, in the sky. The moon was lifting her off the ground to meet him in the sky. She knew it sounded crazy in her own mind, but the memory was very real. This necklace was a part of that. It was the symbol of the city. It was the darkness about the city. She frowned again.

She turned the whistle over and saw the small, cursive letters etched in the back. For Charlotte, it read. She squinted at it and repeated the words in her mind. This meant something to her. She knew it. She yawned. It felt like she had always had it and couldn’t bear to ever lose it. Her thoughts were spinning. This necklace belonged to whoever those hands belonged to.

She strung the necklace back around her neck as her eyes grew more and more heavy with the late hour. Her fingers touched something on her flesh. It felt raised, and a little tender. She followed it up and down, in a slight curve along her neck. A scar? From what? She lay back with her head on the large pillows, her damp, red hair messy about her face, her fingers still to her neck. Perhaps more would come to her later. Now, she needed to focus on the wedding.