Chapter 29

RED

B y the time we catch up to Lincoln, he's already escaped his restraints and killed one of the vampires.

But he's grappling with three others.

Amelia and I move in unison, charging the group. Amelia darts to the side as a fourth vampire holding a rope approaches. She's lightning quick, throwing a series of punches at him. She's not as coordinated as me, but she's never trained for combat. What she has at her disposal is speed.

And fuck, am I proud as I watch her land hit after hit.

Lincoln drops to his knees in front of his main assailant, clearly exhausted from his prolonged fight. But he doesn't get to quit on me. I dive in front of him, fending off a slew of attacks, then leap and land a flying kick to the head of the vampire attacking him.

He's fast though. He spins around, ducks under my turning kick and lands a hefty hit to my ribs. I collapse on the ground, puffing and sputtering. If a rib isn't cracked, it's sure as shit bruised to hell. Coughing and gasping for air, I scramble to my feet.

I manage to block a blow to the face, followed by an uppercut, and slam a mean front kick to the vampire's knee. He yelps and staggers back, but charges forward a split second later when his knee realigns. Motherfucker.

This time, he's too fast. He lands a mean blow to my jaw, making me bite down on my tongue as my teeth clatter together. Blood spills into my mouth. I spit it on the floor, but he doesn't let up. I stagger, my ribs now burning, my mouth stinging. I need to get control of this. I inhale and swing, finally landing a savage blow to the vampire's solar plexus. He stumbles back, wheezing and breathless. Good. I want him winded. It'll be easier to take him out.

But as soon as I get cocky, a fist collides with my spine, and I'm flung forward through the air and crash against a stone. The sting of gravel rips through my clothes so I know I'm cut and bleeding.

The vampire who hit me lands on my back. He yanks me around and lands a series of brutal blows to my body.

I'm beginning to think I won't be getting out of this melee in one piece, when thank the gods, Octavia catches up to us. The carriage she's driving skids as the horses rear up on their front legs to slow themselves down. She jumps down from the bench and spins around, searching.

"Thank fuck!" Octavia says as she catches sight of me and speeds to my side. "You're alive."

"Alive, yes, but not faring so well," I say as I struggle against the pain in my back and my ribs to stand.

To my surprise, Dahlia hops down from the carriage and immediately dives into the fight. She launches at the vampire I'm fighting, grabs his neck and snaps it in a quick, wrenching motion.

Then she punches into his chest and rips out his heart for good measure. But she doesn't wait, she moves on to the next vampire. A short-lived fist fight ends in her ripping his heart out too. Followed by the heart of the unconscious vampire at Lincoln's feet. It's all but over as Dahlia busts the leg of the last vampire and wrenches it until it severs from his body. The screaming stops shortly after that.

"You okay there, partner?" she says to Lincoln, who nods from his bent-double knees, catching his breath.

Partner? It stings hearing that, as does Lincoln putting his hand into Dahlia's as she hauls him up. Octavia and I stand staring at each other. It feels like an eon since we were in the club. Since we shared that kiss. But in reality, it was more like two hours ago. That knowledge hits hard since I can't remember the last time I drank her blood.

"You okay?" she whispers, pulling me into her.

"Not really. My ribs might be cracked, but it's also been too long since…"

"Later. I promise," she says, cutting me off before I say something that gives us away.

Her fingers brush my bruised cheek and bleeding lip. I flinch. She hesitates but offers me her wrist. I want to take it, but I also know that is the only carriage we have, and I'm not about to drink from her or fuck her in front of Lincoln.

I wrap my hand around her wrist and shake my head. "When we're safe at Castle Beaumont. That's where I sent Keir and Talulla."

"I sent Xavier there too." Octavia brushes my hair back from my face. Her expression is tight.

"I'll be okay," I say, even though I wince as I take a step.

Octavia's lips remain tight until she glances at Dahlia. "Mother of Blood," she shouts and then pauses, shaking her head. She clears her throat and begins again. "They're dead, Dahlia. Stop torturing them. We need to get back to mine and regroup."

Dahlia relents, reluctantly it appears, and we all clamber inside the carriage, me a little slower than the rest and with the help of Amelia. The driver, who had apparently stubbornly refused to let Octavia commandeer his carriage without riding in it, swaps out and resumes his place at the reins.

Laboured breathing and the rustling of clothing envelopes the carriage for the first few moments of the journey. Octavia and I, Dahlia and Lincoln, and Amelia take stock of ourselves and each other without speaking. We're all covered in blood and dirt. Lincoln and I probe various limbs and injuries, wincing and hissing with pain, but the three vampires have already healed.

Octavia throws me a hesitant glance. We're both dying to talk about what we saw in the vision-gifts from the Mother of Blood, but thankfully, she thinks better of discussing anything in front of Dahlia. Because even though she helped this evening, I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. And given the idea to incite fights this evening came from Castle St Clair, there's nothing to say she wasn't involved.

Perhaps Dahlia helping was a red herring distraction to knock us off course? Or maybe she genuinely cares about keeping Lincoln alive so they can finish the trials.

"You guys should sleep," Dahlia says. "It will help your healing."

"She's right," Lincoln says and opens his arm for me to snuggle under. Octavia's expression twitches but only for a moment before she resigns herself to remembering Lincoln is one of my best friends and she doesn't need to be jealous. Though I suppose she's still smarting from the club tonight.

But that's the last thought I have before sleep sweeps me under, and I drift off against Lincoln's warm, familiar side.

* * *

W e arrived at Castle Beaumont some time ago, but apparently, I'm the last to wake. I stretch and yawn, and immediately regret it, realising I still haven't had any blood to heal my injuries. I glance out the carriage window; it's long past dawn and the others are gone.

My stomach is griping at me, like I'm starving, and I am in every way, but not for anything I want to eat. I push the gnawing sensation down and open the door to find the courtyard full of other carriages. The Chief's is here too. Wendell smiles at me as he rises from the lip of the ornate fountain across from me.

"Ms Beaumont told me to stay here until you rose, and to let you know they're waiting for you in the living room."

"Thanks," I say. "Is the Chief here?"

His eyes flit to her carriage, and he nods. "I believe she was in discussions with Cordelia. They'd taken a private room and were going to reconvene with you all once you woke."

"Thanks," I say and head towards the door, my stomach twisting and this time not because of the hunger, but because of what I learnt at the end of the spirit trial. I need to speak to the Chief. I should confront her and find out whether what I saw was true. Because if it is... Fuck, I don't even know how I am supposed to process that.

"Ahem," Wendell coughs.

I stop and face him. "Something else?"

"She also gave me this… And insisted I make you drink it." He holds out a flask.

My eyes fall to it, but the way my mouth waters, I'm certain it's not alcohol in there.

"Thanks," I say, even though I'm anything but. Unfortunately, the minute my fingers brush the metal flask, my stomach cramps up. There's no way I'm getting away without drinking at least some of it, and that's not just because of the hunger, but the injuries too.

I flick open the top and sip. And then sip again. And again. And again. I can't stop. The sweet iron nectar hits my throat, and my entire body relaxes. Warmth floods my limbs and I slide into the golden haze of a blood-drunk stupor. By the time the flask is empty, I can breathe easier, my chest doesn't feel bruised and my back doesn't sting or itch like it's healing. I lean against the doorway, steadying myself until I can take a breath deep enough that I ground myself again. My pussy aches to be touched, but there isn't time for that now.

I head into Octavia's mansion and quickly get lost. "Fucksake," I grumble. I thought I'd learnt the hallways by now. But clearly not because I end up near the kitchen instead of the living room. I double back on myself and end up at a dead end full of staff offices.

"Going well, Red. Really well."

I make my way back towards the courtyard door. If I can start again, I'll be able to take the correct turn when I halt. Two voices drift out from one of the staff offices, and they do not fit with what I expect to hear down here.

The Chief… and Cordelia.

I have two choices: leave and confront the Chief later, or confront her now, despite the fact she's in the room with Cordelia.

Instead, I decide on a different course of action. I creep up to the door, which is cracked open, and I listen.

"This is serious," the Chief says.

"I'm not an idiot. I instigated these trials, or have you forgotten that?"

"Don't speak to me like that, Cordelia. I'm here working with you for one reason, and don't you forget it."

There's muffled talking. A piece of furniture scrapes along the floor. I jerk back, leaning against the wall, trying to control my breathing so I don't give myself away to Cordelia's vampire hearing. When I calm down, I chance another listen.

"Perhaps who we were wasn't so bad," Cordelia says.

"Oh, get real… we were dreaming. We hated each other then, and we hate each other now," the Chief says.

"Didn't stop you fucking me a thousand years ago… did it, Eleanor ?"

My blood runs cold. There it is. Everything in my vision matches.

The Chief is Eleanor. The Chief is… was? The love of Cordelia's life. She's a thousand fucking years old. Pins and needles trickle into my fingers, my nostrils flare as I try to breathe deep enough not to pass out.

How could she keep that from us?

"Yes, well, we all make mistakes we regret, don't we…" the Chief says, and that hangs in the air for longer than I'm comfortable with. Long enough, I consider running out of the corridor and away in case one or both of them are about to exit the office room.

But they continue talking. I miss the first few words, but I strain my hearing until I latch onto what they're saying again.

It's the Chief talking, but I only catch the end of her sentence. "…someone else will."

"Mother of Blood, Eleanor, I don't see you bringing in any information on our mutual enemy."

"Fuck you. Even working with you is enough of a risk to threaten my entire academy. We're both losing control of our people. And if someone else gets to?—"

"Hush," Cordelia hisses. "Come on, be reasonable. We're two of the most powerful women in the city. We can defend ourselves against anything."

"You're not worried, then?"

Something slams down.

"Of course I am. You need to control the dhampir. That was your job. Your end of this fucking bargain."

"I get that. She's almost there. She needs a little push, and we'll have her," the Chief says.

If I thought my blood had turned cold, it freezes in my veins. I can't breathe.

It's Cordelia who speaks this time. "We need to step up the trials. We need to get her to…"

I strain but I can't make out the end of the sentence, dammit.

"No," the Chief snaps. "I can do this. I just need to isolate her a little more. Get her to trust me and me alone. Maybe another riot, perhaps put her sister in harm's way. If it weren't for you matching her with Octavia, we might have already won her around. We need her in a position where I'm the only one she can trust. Then she'll have no choice but to come to me and do as I say."

My eyes sting, I suck my lip in and bite down trying to make the words go away. Praying I'm hallucinating and none of this is real.

"And if you're wrong? What then?" Cordelia says.

"I'm not wrong." Another object slams into something.

"But if you are? Then what?"

"I don't know, MORE. We can incite more riots? The more danger her loved ones are in, the more chance we have of getting her to do what we want. She's already told me she's the dhampir. She may have already killed someone today and initiated the transition."

"If you're wrong about this, Eleanor."

"Don't fucking call me that. I'm the one putting my people in danger here."

"You are? Do you have any fucking idea how many vampires have died patrolling that border? We don't even know what's out there for fuck's sake. Sadie said the Mother of Blood showed her a vision of demons inside the boundary. We don't have the weaponry to deal with that. What if?—"

But I've heard enough. I can't, I don't want to listen anymore. I'm running down the corridor, sprinting away as fast as I can.

I can't breathe.

Not only is the Chief Eleanor Randall, but she's colluding against me, trying to fucking control me, just like everyone else. She was meant to be my leader. My commander. The one person I could trust with my life. And she's the one trying to manipulate me this entire time.

And she knows who I am.

She knows because I fucking told her.

I am in a world of shit. This whole time, she was pushing me to dig up dirt, to spy on Octavia. The fucking manipulation. Forcing me closer and pulling me away all at the same time. How could she?

Tears streak my cheeks as my chest constricts. I've ruined everything. I've hidden the fact I told the Chief who I was from Octavia. And fucking Octavia… she still hasn't given me my memories back.

Who am I meant to trust when everyone betrays me?