Chapter 33

33

R hi

Somehow I manage to navigate along the maze of corridors, stopping outside the Black Prince’s door some minutes later. It’s imposing and grand and all of a sudden I feel very small and very alone.

It doesn’t matter that there’s a supposed prophecy written about me. It doesn’t matter that fate has bonded five powerful men to me. It doesn’t even matter that I’m the lost daughter of some prince. I still feel exactly like I did those first few days at the academy. Like a nobody. Like I don’t really belong or fit in.

I square my shoulders. Tough shit. Time to put my big girl panties on. Winnie is hiding out there somewhere, Ellie is suffering who knows what at the hands of her uncle and I dread to think what’s happened to Rosa .

I knock on the door with a firm fist. I may feel afraid but I can do a good job at not showing it.

There’s a long pause and for a moment my heart drops. He isn’t there. This is going to have to wait. I’m starting to turn away when a voice from within calls:

“Enter.” The door springs open.

Inside, the Black Prince stands talking to two older magicals; one male, one female, both dressed in finely embroidered robes. All their eyes land on me and their combined magic flickers to life.

“Rhianna,” the Black Prince says, “we were just talking about you.”

“You were?” I say, confused.

“We are so happy you have returned, Princess,” the woman says. Her silver hair falls in long braids down her back and her rusty brown eyes are piercing.

“Actually,” I say, finding my voice from somewhere, “that’s what I have come to talk to you about.”

The woman’s gaze flicks up to the Black Prince. He nods and then the two other magicals leave, the woman’s cold arm brushing against my body as she does and her magic prickling over my skin.

When the door closes behind me, the Black Prince fixes me with his charming smile.

“I hear you were feeling unwell this morning. I take it you are feeling better now? That my servant saw to your comfort?”

Servant? I knew Charmaine was some kind of maid or assistant. But to call her a servant? I shake the thought aside. That’s not why I’m here.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you.” My gaze flicks around the room and I notice the picture I ruined has already been removed and replaced. “I can’t stay here. I have to go back, back to the republic.”

The Black Prince considers me.

“Nonsense. It is too dangerous. You are safe here. We will protect you.”

“But my friends, they are in danger and I can’t stay here while they’re–”

“Your fated ones are with you. Your familiar too. You will make new friends here in the Kingdom. I can find some young woman your age, have them sent to you and–”

I take another step towards him. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not worried about having no friends. Shit, I spent my entire childhood without them. But I have them now and they are important to me and I have to help them.”

“And how do you expect to help them? Christopher Kennedy wants you dead. If it was not for my dragon’s interference, you would be dead!”

“With your help, we could–”

“With my help?” His eyes narrow. “What exactly do you have in mind, daughter?”

“Christopher Kennedy is a monster. He’s terrorizing his own people. We need to remove him from power.”

“And seize power for ourselves!” The Black Prince steps forward and his eyes glint red with the firelight.

“No, I mean–”

“I have waited so long for you, my powerful child – with your boundless, bottomless wells of magic,” he says, his voice more rapid, more eager, the flames flickering in his pupils, “waited for you to join me.”

I take a step away from him, alarmed at his sudden change in tone. He leans forward and grabs my wrist. His hand is cool and my dark magic sizzles vividly to life, surpassing my other magic, driving to the forefront, available at my fingertips.

“Together there will be nothing that can stop us,” he says. “Together we can bring a utopia to both lands. We can rule over both.”

“What?” I say, trying to tug my arm from his grip. “I don’t want to–”

“Daughter,” my father hisses, “show me what you can do!”

“I don’t–”

“Rhianna!” he snaps. “Show me!”

And my crimson magic rises to the challenge. It’s arrogant and proud and it wants a chance to show exactly what it can do. Its black tentacles race up the walls of this room, melting and destroying everything in its path, burning a hole in the ceiling above us and continuing on its path of destruction, climbing higher and higher through the floors above us and then bursting straight through to the roof itself, shooting high into the sky, a deadly bolt of jet black lightning that singes the very air itself.

The lightning bolt strikes the sky with darkness and I scream as my magic soars through me.

Then my father lets go of my wrist and the magic falls back down to earth.

I crumple to the ground, my shoulders heaving as I scrabble for breath. I glare up at my father. The magic is still hot and furious in my blood.

“What the hell did you just do?” I cry.

“My apologies,” he bows his head slightly, “my deepest apologies. It was not my intention to hurt you. Perhaps I was a little overexcited.” His eyes gleam. “Your powers are far greater than I expected. ”

He looks down at the hand that had gripped me and sparks seem to dance between his fingertips.

I pull myself up to standing, smoothing down my now crumpled clothes, my heart still racing in my chest.

“Perhaps it would be best if you returned to your quarters and rest some more. We will talk more on these matters later.” He smiles at me, oozing charm. “I am so pleased you are here, Rhianna. Reunited with me at last.”

He gestures to the door.

“I don’t need to rest,” I snap, realizing I sound exactly like a petulant child and wish I’d phrased that better. He may be my father but we’re both adults and he is a stranger to me. He doesn’t get to boss me around, even if he rules this nation. “We need to talk about–”

“Yes, but I have other business to attend to. Business that you interrupted.” My cheeks heat.

“This is important!”

“It can wait!” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger and I take a hurried step away from him. Then he collects himself. “Such things should not be hurried. Let me speak with my advisers on the best way to proceed.”

I’m not satisfied with this compromise, but I need his help and angering him further doesn’t seem the best way to gain it. I tamper down my own anger, swallowing it down, and manage a half smile.

“Thank you,” I say and then I leave.

The anger still courses through my veins as I make my way back to our quarters, so much so that twice I take the wrong corridor and am forced to retrace my steps.

Then I stop.

This is bullshit. If he’s going to talk to his advisers about how to remove Christopher Kennedy from power, then I need to be there too. I’m not some little girl. I am Rhianna Blackwaters.

I spin on my toes and head straight back the way I’ve come. However, when I reach the Black Prince’s study I find it empty. He’s gone some place else to have these important conversations. I hiss in annoyance and decide, tough shit, I’m going to track him down.

I begin making my way through the corridors, knocking on doors and peering around doors. The place is bizarrely empty. Not a magical in sight. Probably all at this very important meeting with the Black Prince.

Then I catch the swish of a skirt rounding a corner in the distance – Charmaine’s skirt. I chase after her, running on my tiptoes, down a stairwell, and plummeting into the heart of the palace. I don’t know what I’m doing, why I decide to keep myself hidden, but I feel compelled to do so.

At the bottom of the stairs, Charmaine pauses, peering upward and I dive backward, pressing myself into the shadows, wishing I hadn’t lost my cloaker. Then she sets off along another corridor. Half way along she meets another young woman, dressed in similar robes. The other girl speaks to her softly, so quietly I don’t hear, and they set off together in a third direction. I follow the both of them, lurking far enough away that they can’t see or hear me.

At the end of the corridor I realize we’re back near the ballroom, although they stop outside another door, slightly ajar.

I can hear the eager chatter of voices from within and the strange crackling of magic.

The two girls wait at the entrance until someone from within calls for them. They step inside and once again I follow.

The room is packed with magicals, dressed in their finery, and sprawled over chaises and cushions, all fixated at something in the center of the room. I peer that way too, my mind taking a moment to decipher what I see.

The Black Prince – my father – bent over a young man, his mouth pressed to his neck as if he’s kissing him. The man is young like me, dressed in the same robes as Charmaine and the other girl. He’s chained to a low couch and he’s barely conscious.

My scalp prickles with unease. I’ve intruded into something private. Something a daughter shouldn’t see – that much I do understand even if I can’t compute what it is I’m seeing. I shouldn’t be here. The hum of excited voices and the sucking force of the magic in the air makes me shudder hard; a viscous sucking that seems to tug at the magic in my veins.

And then realization hits me hard.

I stumble backward.

My father isn’t kissing that man. This isn’t some weird orgy I’ve stumbled into. Not of that kind, anyway.

No, my father’s teeth are buried in the man’s neck. He’s biting him, draining the magical’s magic from his veins – taking it for his own!

I want to turn away and run, run as far away from this place as I can, but my feet are glued to the spot and bile and repulsion slosh in my stomach.

My vision spins.

The Black Prince – the horror of it makes me nauseous – is a drainer.

They all are. All of them.

Nosferatu.

Vampires.

The darkest of all magicals.

I watch as the Black Prince stands up, his mouth crimson with blood and licks his lips. He clicks his fingers and the chains fall away. But the young man doesn’t move. His eyes fall shut and his head lulls to one side. The two girls shuffle forward, slinging the man’s arms around each of their shoulders. The Black Prince slumps onto an armchair, his eyes dazed like he’s on drugs. As the two girls drag the man away, he catches Charmaine by her upper arm.

“Still so weak, Source,” he scoffs, “come see me again when you have restored.”

I slam my hands over my mouth to smother a gasp. That’s why her magic was so low. The Black Prince has been draining it.

A million thoughts spin in my mind as the strange magic in the room tugs at my veins, and the vision of the Black Prince’s scarlet mouth plays in my head over and over. For one awful second, I’m so dizzy, I think I might tumble to the ground.

Charmaine nods, bowing her head to the ground in that same meek manner.

She wasn’t shy. She was afraid. Not a worker, a slave.

I’ve been so stupid. So blind.

Together with the other girl, she heaves the boy away, the other magicals watching intently, their eyes seeming to glow red in the strange lighting of the room.

I shrink into the shadows, my heart racing, my lungs gasping for air. On unsteady feet, I follow the women back down the corridor and to another room. Inside are a series of beds, each occupied by an unconscious magical. I rub at my eyes, unable to believe what I’m seeing. Twenty magicals at least, every single one of them near death, drained of nearly all but a few droplets of their magic. It’s horrifying. Truly horrifying. How could anyone do this?

The two women lay the man out on the bed. Charmaine leans over him, then hesitates, pressing her hand to his chest. She lets out a silent scream of distress, stumbling backward into the other woman’s arms. For a moment, they hold each other and then finally, Charmaine turns back to the man, and with a steadying breath draws a sheet over his head.

Dead.

He’s dead.

I roll out of the room, back pressed against the wall, emotions and thoughts still crashing through my head. I feel sick. So, so sick. I sink to my knees and dry heave into my hands.

This can’t be right. This must be wrong. There has to be some other explanation.

“Princess!”

I open my eyes and standing right in front of me, flanked on both sides by three other magicals, is the silver-haired woman from earlier.

All of their eyes glow red and they glare at me with an undisguised hunger.