18. Chapter 18

18

Chapter 18

Darick

I stride into the ancient vampire Council headquarters, my senses pinging. The imposing gothic facade seems colored with a thousand secrets. If these walls could speak…

I slow my pace as I arrive in the meeting room, aware of Arabella's absence. Damn. I could use an ally right about now.

The others arrive in quick succession. Victor Valmont, Isabella Montague, Alaric Stone… Lucien, that smug bastard, is already seated at the head of the boardroom table. The power play isn't lost on me. I clench my jaw, refusing to react.

What the fuck is he up to?

As I move to take my seat, I notice the subtle reactions of the other vampires. Their eyes widen slightly, nostrils flaring as if catching an unfamiliar scent. I catch snippets of whispered conversations.

"…his aura…"

"…something's different…"

I ignore them, sliding into a chair and fixing Lucien with a steady gaze. "Will Arabella be joining us?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

Lucien's lips curl into a cold smile. "This is a matter that doesn't concern our Grand Elder. Today is an unofficial advisory committee meeting."

I raise my eyebrows, alarm bells ringing in my head. This isn't right. Are they operating outside the Blood Assembly's rules? I hold my tongue. Better to see how this plays out.

Marcus takes the seat beside me, another breach of protocol. I feel a surge of gratitude for my friend's silent show of support. It's clear to everyone that this isn't an officially sanctioned meeting. Having him take a place at the table shows them we're aware of it too.

The air crackles with unspoken suspense as I wait for Lucien to reveal why he's gathered us here. I grit my teeth as he opens the meeting, his audacity grating on my nerves.

Who does he think he is?

He's not even the highest-ranking vampire here. I exchange a quick glance with Marcus, seeing my own irritation mirrored in his eyes.

For a minute or two, Lucien drones on about recent vampire-witch conflicts, his words colored with false concern – as if he himself wasn't behind the whole shitstorm.

"The witches have requested a meeting," he announces, surprising me, "and our Grand Elder has agreed."

A murmur ripples through the room. I keep my face impassive, but my mind races.

Why didn't Arabella tell me about this?

"We must be on our guard," Lucien continues, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on me. "Some among us may not be…up to the task."

I feel the weight of the others' stares. Lucien's lips curl into a smirk. "How are you feeling today, Lord Drake? You've seemed…unwell at our recent meetings."

"I'm stronger than ever, Lord Marlowe," I counter smoothly. I'm not lying. I feel like I could rule the world.

"Is that so? Because—"

I don't hear the rest of the sentence as I feel a tug at my awareness. A warm female voice.

"Fine, I guess. Just confused."

I stiffen.

For fuck's sake! It's her, dammit!

And with the sound of her voice comes the memory of her scent, her taste. My mouth waters, and my fangs extend. I blink hard, fighting for control.

Too late. Lucien's eyes gleam with triumph. "You see?" he says, addressing the room. "Even now, his strength slips. Many of you have noticed, have you not?"

"You must admit, you have not been yourself lately, Lord Drake." Isabella is regarding me with a calculating expression. I return her cool stare.

"I believe that Clan Sanguis has much to be concerned about," adds Lucien.

I bristle, anger rising in my chest. "And why," I ask coolly, "would my clan's concerns be any of your business, Lucien? If there were issues, they would come to me directly."

But even as I speak, I can see the subtle nods of agreement around the table. Lucien's poison has already taken root. This isn't just about me – it's a play for my entire clan.

The realization hits me like a stake to the heart. Lucien wants Clan Sanguis. As elder of the Umbran clan, he's free to use their skills in covert operations as he sees fit. Combining that talent for subterfuge with my clan's military skill would make him unstoppable.

I'll be damned if I let that happen.

I lock eyes with Lucien. "My clan's strength is not up for debate. Especially not by you."

"I'm not talking about your clan. I'm talking about you ."

I clench my jaw as Lucien's words hang in the air. This is about a takeover.

Who among these vampires might be aligned against me? I scan the room, trying to read their expressions, their body language. Isabella's calculating gaze, Victor's enigmatic smirk, Alaric's furrowed brow – each one a potential threat.

Or perhaps not. Alaric simply looks curious.

Lucien's voice cuts through my thoughts. "I propose we put Lord Drake to the test," he announces, his eyes gleaming. "Unless he can prove his strength here and now, we must bring this matter to the full Blood Assembly. A compromised leader cannot be allowed to remain in power."

A murmur ripples through the room. I feel their stares, heavy with suspicion and curiosity.

"And what exactly are you suggesting, Lucien?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

"A test of your abilities," he replies smoothly. "To be conducted immediately. Prove you're still at full strength, and you can continue to lead. Fail, and you step down."

The room erupts into debate. I catch snippets of their arguments, trying to gauge who might still be on my side.

"It's unprecedented," Victor interjects, his brow furrowed. "But these are unprecedented times."

Isabella nods in agreement. "We cannot afford weakness in our leadership, not with the growing witch threat."

I lock eyes with Marcus, seeing the concern etched on his face. He gives me a subtle nod, which I return; this is a challenge I'm up to.

Still, I feel the tide turn against me. As the debate heads toward acceptance of Lucien's proposal, he faces me, eyes triumphant. "Well, Lord Drake? Will you submit to the test?"

"Just what right do you have to make this demand?" I raise an eyebrow. I know he's not acting in any official capacity at all. If my instincts are right, he's hoping to catch me out and has gathered the others as witnesses to prove it. I won't give him the satisfaction.

"Are you saying you won't do it?" Lucien doesn't answer my question. "Are you afraid you'll fail?"

I say nothing for a moment because a day ago, I might have been. But now…

"I'm not afraid at all." I rise from my seat. I know I don't have to play this game, but if I decline, it will add fuel to whatever fire he's starting. "Where would you like to begin?"

Something dark flickers in Lucien's expression but is gone just as soon as it appears. "To the lower enclave," he says, standing too. His shoulders are stiff as he leaves the table.

He's pissed. Good.

I follow Lucien and the others out of the council chambers toward a rarely used section of the administrative buildings. We reach a door that creaks open when Lucien unlocks it. There's a staircase winding down, and we all descend, the chill in the air growing more pronounced with each step.

The narrow walls press in around us, the flickering lights casting shadows that dance across ancient stone. The drip of water echoes in the silence; the only other sound is our footsteps.

As we descend deeper, I can't shake the apprehension of hearing her voice in my head. It's a distraction I can't afford right now. I push the thought aside, steeling myself for whatever lies ahead.

The passage opens into a vast cavern, and Lucien steps forward. "The Trials of Tantibus," he announces, "will test every facet of your abilities, Lord Drake. Strength, speed, cunning – all will be put to the test."

I scan the faces of the other leaders. Victor's expression is unreadable while Isabella watches with keen interest. Alaric appears intrigued.

Lucien's eyes lock onto mine, the challenge unmistakable. "Are you prepared to prove yourself worthy of leadership?"

God, he's an ass.

I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "Let's get this over with."

He gives a flourish, and a section of the chamber shimmers, transforming before our eyes. Ancient runes pulse with energy, creating a barrier around what has become an arena. From the shadows, a group of younger vampire warriors emerge, their eyes hungry for the challenge.

"The first test…a fight to the death." Lucien grins.

I roll my sleeves up and smile darkly.

Bring it on.

I'm suddenly more confident in my abilities than I was before. As the first opponent lunges at me, I feel a surge of strength. My body moves with fluid grace, my Viking instincts rising to the surface. I dodge the attack, countering with a lightning-fast strike that sends the warrior flying.

Another comes at me from behind, but I'm ready. I spin, my fist connecting with a satisfying crunch. As I take down opponent after opponent, I feel a rush of savage satisfaction.

This is what I was born for.

It takes barely three minutes for the fight to be over. Half a dozen vampires are scattered around me. I turn back to Lucien, straightening my shirt.

"Right. What's next?" I stand tall, my body buzzing with power and adrenaline.

Lucien stares at me for a moment; I'm pretty sure he didn't expect this. He steps forward, his eyes narrowed. In his hand, he holds a silver dagger that gleams wickedly.

"Impressive display of strength, Lord Drake," he says, his voice is laden with false praise. "But let's verify your…healing abilities."

I can feel the other vampires' stares, can almost taste their anticipation. This is a critical test, one that would clearly reveal any weakness the Bloodbane might have caused.

It's what he's hoping for.

Lucien moves closer, the dagger catching the light. Without warning, he slashes across my forearm, the blade cutting to the bone. The silver sizzles against my skin, and pain explodes through my nerves. It takes every ounce of willpower not to snarl. The agony is excruciating, far worse than I remember silver being. He's probably treated the blade with something, the fucker.

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to remain stoic as I feel my healing powers kick in. The familiar prickling sensation spreads from within, racing to mend the wound. I watch, along with the others, as my flesh begins to knit itself back together. The skin ripples and stretches, closing the gash with remarkable speed.

The acrid smell of burning flesh slowly dissipates, replaced by the copper tang of my own blood. In mere moments, the wound is gone, leaving behind only a faint pink line that's already fading.

Murmurs of approval ripple through the gathered vampires. Lucien's features darken with fury, his pale eyes flickering.

I meet his stare steadily, refusing to show any sign of the lingering pain or the effort it took to heal so quickly. Inside, I'm reeling. I'm surprised at how fast I healed. But I'll be damned if I let them see it.

"Satisfied?" I ask, almost nonchalant.

"Oh, I'll be satisfied all right," Lucien's voice is taut, "when I see you complete the final test."

I shrug. "Bring it on."

Lucien sweeps an arm, stepping to the side and gesturing to the room. It shifts before my eyes, darkness shrouding its changing shape as it forms a complex maze.

"The test of shadows. You will use them to hide in plain sight," he says smugly. "Begin." He wouldn't be so smug if he knew that shadow manipulation is one of my special strengths. Then again, maybe he knows and is assuming that I've lost the ability.

With a nod, I step into the labyrinth, the shadows immediately enveloping me like a second skin. The darkness feels…different. More alive. More responsive to my will. I meld with it effortlessly, my form becoming indistinguishable from the inky blackness surrounding me.

The maze shifts and changes, walls materializing and dissolving unpredictably. But I move through it all with an ease I've never experienced before. My senses are heightened, every whisper of movement, every subtle change in the air, crystal clear to me.

As I navigate the twisting corridors, I catch glimpses of the vampire observers stationed throughout the maze. Their eyes scan the darkness, searching for any sign of me. But I am the darkness itself, slipping past them undetected.

It's almost too easy, and my mind drifts momentarily to the witch who's monopolized my thoughts so much lately. As if summoned, her voice echoes in my head, clear as a bell.

"I don't understand. My powers…they've grown stronger. How is this possible?"

This gives me pause. Her powers are stronger? Is she feeling it too? The revelation intrigues me, but I can't afford to lose focus now. Instead, I draw strength from her presence, letting it sharpen my concentration even further.

I weave through the labyrinth with increasing confidence, evading every trap and observer with ease. The shadows bend to my will, concealing me completely. It's exhilarating, this newfound mastery over an element I've wielded for so long.

Finally, I emerge from the maze, materializing before the gathered vampires. The runes surrounding the labyrinth fade, signaling the end of the trial. A hush falls over the chamber.

I stand calmly, meeting Lucien's gaze with cool confidence.

Come on, fucker…

His jaw clenches, his eyes flashing; the rage within them is red-hot. But when he speaks, his voice is controlled, almost silky. "Well, it seems you've passed these ancient tests, Lord Drake. But remember, strength is not just physical."

Sure. In your case, it's about deceit and subterfuge.

I keep my expression neutral. "You're right; strength is more than physical, Lucien," I reply, my voice carrying across the chamber. "It's also about honor and leadership – qualities I intend to uphold."

Qualities you don't have.

I don't need to say it out loud for him to know what I'm thinking.

The other vampire leaders begin to disperse, their hushed conversations echoing off the ancient walls. I feel stares on my back and sideways glances. There's respect there. But lingering suspicion, too. I keep my head high and my stride purposeful.

Let them talk.

Today, I have proven myself beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"I think that should do it." Marcus is smirking as he falls in step beside me.

I bite out a grim smile. "For now," I say. I know it's not over. When you're dealing with immortals, wars are never won with just one skirmish. And Lucien Marlowe is like a dog with a bone.

As we step through the doorway into the light of the outer offices, I feel a grip on my arm.

"A word, Lord Drake?" It's Lucien. Of course it is.

"You have more to add?" I swivel my head to him. My message is clear: this argument is over. Marcus pauses with me.

"This won't take long." Lucien slants a look at my advisor. I nod at him to go ahead, then turn to face my old adversary. It's only when we're entirely alone that Lucien allows his mask to slip.

"This isn't over, Drake," he hisses, his face inches from mine. "You may have fooled them with your little display, but I know the truth."

"The truth?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"The Bloodbane," he spits the word like a curse. "I know you have it. It's only a matter of time before everyone else sees it, too."

I remain silent, my expression a picture of indifference. Inside, my mind races.

How much does he actually know?

Lucien's lips curl into a cruel smile. "But it doesn't have to end badly for you. Pledge your allegiance to me, and I'll keep your secret. We could be unstoppable together. If not…" He lets the threat hang in the air.

I observe him silently for several long moments, watching as triumph begins to flash in his eyes. He thinks he's won. He thinks he's backed me into a corner.

"Lucien…" I move in close, my voice low enough for only him to hear. "Go fuck yourself."

The shock on his face is almost comical as I turn and walk away, leaving him sputtering behind me.