Chapter 4
4
GAbrIEL
T he citadel's meeting hall was full of vampires. It was technically my parents' section of the massive, sprawling fortress, which was made up of interconnected strongholds, each one home to a different ruling family. The vampire meeting hall was a huge space with tall, vaulted ceilings and intricate tapestries. Every inch of it had been carefully designed to convey power and unquestionable authority.
At the front of the hall stood a table on a raised platform. It was the same polished mahogany as the others that formed long lines down either side of the hall, but it was inlaid with the De Montclair crest. The design—a raven with the sun in its beak—had been crafted with materials I had no doubt were rare and very expensive.
Roland De Montclair sat in a throne-like chair at the high table. He was a tall, imposing man with sharp features and sharper eyes. Next to him sat Iskra De Montclair, regal and unreadable as a Byzantine icon. Jewels sparkled in her dark hair, and her hands had been thoroughly scrubbed to get all the blood off. The two of them had recently celebrated their 1050th anniversary. Most days I wasn't sure if they actually liked each other. Some vampires were very affectionate. My parents were not.
As tradition dictated, I was seated to my father's left, but I couldn't help feeling that my position was mostly symbolic. I was there to represent the lineage and keep quiet.
I swept a glance across the assembled vampires, who were all listening attentively to my father, granting him the sort of attention and respect they had never granted me. I, like many of the heirs present at the meeting, occupied an odd position. I would only ever advance to clan head if my father was killed.
"As clan-leader Drehermann so helpfully pointed out," my father said, "the disappearances have been continuing. However, so far, all the missing vampires are relative unknowns. It seems foolish to assume that this is some sort of organized attack."
"You think the disappearances are just coincidences?" one of the clan leaders asked—a slim, pale woman who looked uncannily like a porcelain doll.
My father waved a dismissive hand, his rings glinting in the light. "I think these so-called disappearances involve vampires with very few ties to Eldoria. Don't look for trouble where there is none. It seems more likely that they simply moved on to another city. We shouldn't worry ourselves over a handful of clanless vagrants."
I clenched my hands into fists under the table, forcing myself to keep my face neutral and my shoulders relaxed. Maybe if the vampires had had the support they needed, they wouldn't have been forced to move on. We were supposed to protect the people we ruled, not just use them to boost our own egos.
"With all due respect, Lord De Montclair," said one of the heirs; a vampire of barely a hundred. "Even if the missing vampires are clanless, shouldn't we try to ensure their safety?"
My father smiled thinly at the vampire who'd spoken. "I won't dictate how the individual clans use their resources," he said. "If Clan Alinejad wishes to spend their time looking for those missing, I have no interest in stopping them."
Just as I'd suspected, this meeting wasn't going to change anything. As my father changed the subject to tithes, I let my focus drift. If my family wasn't going to do anything about the disappearances then I would have to redouble my efforts. The sooner I could get some time with that book, the better. Of course, that would mean compromising with that irritating witch. I wasn't used to being spoken in such a manner, and I was more than a little aggravated by how easily she'd managed to get under my skin. The worst part was that I hadn't managed to get the graceful lines of her collarbones out of my mind, as well as the bright green of her eyes, or the jasmine and vanilla scent that emanated off her.
If she wasn't a witch, I would've flirted with her—there was no question in my mind about that—but witches and vampires, historically speaking, had never gotten along. Vampires had originally been created by a coven attempting to find the secret of eternal youth. Technically, they had succeeded, but not in the way they'd hoped. The first vampires were borne of their dark magic, and, driven mad by their newfound bloodlust, had turned on their creators, who reacted with ruthless lethality. It had been a long, long time ago, but immortals could hold a grudge for millennia.
The sound of quiet footsteps snapped me from my reverie. A massive vampire, square-jawed and bulky, had wandered around the back of the podium. He leaned forward discreetly and murmured something into my father's ear. My father nodded, then stood.
"Kith and kin, you'll have to excuse me," he said. "I fear I'm needed elsewhere. This meeting is adjourned. We'll gather again in a fortnight. Enjoy the rest of your evenings, and please, do feel free to stop by the cellar on your way out if you need any refreshments." With that, he swept away into the twisting hallways of the citadel.
The assembled vampires stood and gathered in small clumps to speak to each other. My mother joined them, holding court in her own way. In every group she joined, all the attention was immediately hers to command.
I treated myself to a tired sigh and paced to the back of the hall, where there would be fewer eyes on me. The man who'd whispered to my father followed me.
"Damien," I said, giving him a nod. Damien had risen quickly through the ranks to become my father's right-hand man, and although I didn't particularly like him, I did have some respect for the way he could stroke my father's ego without coming across as a brownnoser.
"Gabriel," he replied. "Another meeting that could have been an email, huh?"
I snorted. "Honestly, sitting through the meetings probably isn't as bad as teaching some of the clan leaders to use a laptop would be."
Damien gave me a closed-mouth smile. A long time ago, one of his fangs had been knocked out in a fight, and he was still self-conscious about the gold tooth that had been put in its place.
"If you want an excuse to get out of here without having to deal with all the politics, I can tell people you're heading out on patrol," he offered.
"I was planning on making the rounds tonight," I admitted. As the heir of the De Montclair line, I didn't have to deal with being put on the patrol rotation, but these meetings always left me with the desperate urge to do something practical and, ideally, solitary.
Damien tilted his head toward one of the discreet side doors. "Go on. I'll cover for you."
After stopping at home to change out of my stuffy court clothes, I headed for the woods that curled around the city's border, and walked through the pines, the thick layer of pine needles rendering my already-quiet steps completely soundless. It was a cool, cloudy night, with the promise of rain lurking in the air. I took a deep breath, just for the pleasure of having the clean fresh air in my lungs.
A twig broke loudly, and my head snapped toward the sound. Through the trees in the distance, I could make out a large shape. It was an elk, nosing curiously at the leaves of a sapling. I could smell it from here, the gamey scent of it. How long had it been since I'd eaten properly? Too long, I was sure. I tended to lose myself in my work and get too distracted to eat.
I wove silently between the trees, my eyes never leaving the elk, but as I got closer, I smelled a tinge of dried blood. I reached out with my mind, wrapping soft, comforting clouds around the elk's nervous prey thoughts. It huffed out a breath through its nose and settled onto the forest floor, folding ungainly legs beneath itself. When I crouched in front of it, it looked up at me with wide, docile eyes. Its antlers were streaked red, a few fuzzy strips of brown clinging to them.
"Shedding your velvet, huh, my friend?" I said softly. "Nearly mating season already, I suppose." I reached out and eased some of the brown strips away, leaving blood-streaked antler visible.
It was a good thing I'd bothered to bring a handkerchief, and I used it to wipe away the worst of the grime until the beast's antlers were bone-white. Rocking back on my heels, I inspected my work, satisfied.
"This won't hurt," I said in a soothing tone before I curled a few more bits of comforting nonsense around the elk's mind, then bent down and drank from it. Elk blood was an acquired taste, gamey and strong, but I didn't mind it.
I licked the blood from my lips as I sat back.
"I'll be right back," I told the elk. It wouldn't understand me, of course, but I felt like talking to it was somehow more polite. I walked a little ways away, keeping my eyes on the ground. It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for, and I pulled up a few fistfuls of leaves before heading back.
"Here," I said, holding the leaves near the creature's nose. "Burdock and dandelion greens. They're both very rich in iron. Eat up and you'll be back to normal in no time."
The elk looked at me blankly but began to lap up the leaves from my hand. It tickled.
I stroked the elk's strong neck as it ate, feeling some of my stress ebb away. Out here, in the quiet, it was easier to feel the energies that flowed through the land. Magical creatures tended to gather in the places where the background magic was strongest. Long ago, Eldoria had been founded on the intersection of several ley lines, and the amount of magic it released had only grown as time went on. If I cleared my mind and tuned into the ley lines, I could feel disturbances nearby the same way a spider might feel a fly land on its web.
As I focused on the tangled streams of magic around me, I felt a knot of dark magic nearby moving fast. My eyes flew open. There were plenty of reasons why dark magic might be out in the woods at this time of night, and very few of them were good. I stood, brushing pine needles and elk-spit-covered fragments of dandelion leaves off my pants.
"Time for me to go, my friend," I said, stroking the elk one last time between the ears. It snorted out a happy breath. "Thank you for a lovely meal. Stay safe."
The bitter aniseed tang of the dark magic wasn't far, and with my vampiric speed the distance was negligible. I barely needed to tap into the ley lines at all. Once I got close enough, the yelling was easy to follow.
There were five of them—two humans and three vampires. The humans were barely out of their teens, clearly terrified, backed up against a thick tree and surrounded by the vampires. All three of their attackers were clearly out of it, with one swaying visibly on his feet while the other two had that glassy, unfocused look of the truly plastered.
"This isn't how we do things," I said, pouring disappointed authority into my voice. "If the three of you are hungry, we can get you something to eat without attacking the helpless."
One of the vampires snarled at me. He had a scar on one cheek that followed the line of his cheekbone, like an old-fashioned dueling scar. "This isn't dinner," he slurred. "This is dessert. Now, fuck off, this is our hunt."
I sighed. "I was really hoping you'd just back off."
"Tough luck," said the swaying vampire.
The three of them had all turned their attention to me now, and I made eye contact with one of the humans. He mouthed a "thank you" and grabbed his companion, pushing him toward the faint lights of the city barely visible in the distance.
One of the vampires was sober enough that he must have heard them move. He stiffened, his head swinging toward the couple, and I threw a brutal punch to the jaw that made him stagger back. Cheek Scar and his friend dashed toward me, but I dodged their clumsy attacks easily. I was old and very, very powerful. They were sloppy and drunk. It wasn't a fair fight, but, unfortunately, it seemed to be a necessary one.
Cheek Scar lunged for me again, and I grabbed him by the neck and threw him away from me. His back hit a tree with a thud, and he groaned. The vampire I'd attacked first was recovering from the hit, and he leaped toward me, fangs bared. I stepped to the side, letting him crash into his friend, who'd been preparing to attack me from behind. The two went down in a tangle of flailing limbs. I felt less like I was in a proper brawl and more like I'd wandered into an improv troupe's first attempt at slapstick.
The vampire I'd thrown against the tree heaved himself to his feet, retched, and staggered toward me. Suddenly, a blast of white-gold light hit him in the side, and he was flung to the forest floor. The punch of magic smelled of vanilla and jasmine, with a bit of old paper. Oh no.
Sure enough, the witch came prowling into the clearing, her fingers still trailing light like smoke from the barrel of a gunslinger's pistol.
"Elegant," I said dryly. "But unnecessary. I'm fairly sure I had that handled."
Evangeline stopped short when she saw me. "You," she said, pointing a glowing finger at me.
"Me," I said. "Would you mind not pointing that at me?"
"What? Oh." She looked down at her hand and shook the residual magic off. "Sorry. What the hell are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I was looking for dark magic," Evangeline said before she grabbed something from her jacket pocket and held it out to me. It was a contraption of black plastic covered with bright, blinking lights. "This thing is supposed to guide me to it. As soon as I got close to the source, though, two guys ran past me scared out of their minds and told me that there was someone trying to fight off a group of vampires." She nudged one of the unconscious vampires with the toe of her shoe. "Seems like they made the situation sound a lot more dangerous than it actually was."
"That remains to be seen," I said. One of the vampires was still conscious enough to be groaning faintly, and I knelt over him, pressing my hand to his temple. His thoughts were muddled and hazy from whatever he and his friends had drunk, but I couldn't find any trace of a larger plan, just dumb animal hunger, and the urge to hurt something.
"What are you doing?" Evangeline asked. The way she watched me made me feel like she was taking mental notes.
"Reading his mind. Making sure he's not part of something bigger."
"Vampires can do that?" She sounded incredulous.
"Only a few of us. The stronger the vampire, the easier it is for them to read someone. Skin contact can magnify it, which is useful when you're dealing with someone in a state like this. His mind is far from clear at the moment."
"Sounds useful," Evangeline said. There was something in her tone I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Can you use it on anyone?"
I glanced up at her. "Technically. Although many of the older vampires have learned to guard their thoughts, and fae are dangerous to read. Their thoughts are so chaotic, it's easy to get lost. I prefer not to use it on anyone humanoid… unless it's a case like this, however." I straightened up.
Evangeline's eyes were very green in the moonlight. I put one hand behind my back and clenched it into a fist where she wouldn't be able to see it.
"Did you really think it was wise for you to come out into the forest alone in the middle of the night?" I asked.
Evangeline gave me an extremely unimpressed look. "I can take care of myself," she said. "Just ask him if you don't believe me." She kicked the vampire she'd knocked out.
"Still," I said stiffly. "These woods can be dangerous."
"Yeah, well, if the big bad wolf came to get me, it'd have to answer to Sal," she said.
"I… have no idea who you're talking about."
She shook her head, and the coppery curls that had escaped from her bun bounced with the motion. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Not somebody your type would hang around."
"My type."
"Yeah," Evangeline said. "You know. Tall, dead, and mysterious. Pretentious. Pompous."
"Pompous?" I repeated incredulously. "I'll have you know that I consider myself a man of the people. I spend a lot of time among the common folk."
"Okay, see, it's saying things like that that makes you seem pompous," she said. "And I can't help but notice that you didn't try to defend yourself from the pretentiousness accusation."
"Well," I said. "Well." I was suddenly incredibly grateful I'd changed out of my court clothes. If I'd had to argue I wasn't pretentious while wearing a vintage silk brocade cape, I probably would have just staked myself in the chest to avoid the embarrassment. I cleared my throat. "Why were you out hunting dark magic in the first place?"
"The case I'm on," Evangeline said. "There's this artifact that stores magic. If it's full of dark magic, it'll have to have a pretty big energy signature. I thought it might be worth a try to map areas with a lot of dark magic… maybe try and triangulate a general area to search in."
"And you're using… that?" I asked, pointing at the little plastic box.
"That's the plan."
"It won't work," I said bluntly.
"You have no way of knowing that." She bristled. "This is my job, all right? I'm a professional."
I raised a hand in a way I hoped was placating. "The device," I said. "May I see it?"
Evangeline glared at me but tossed me the box. When I caught it, it was still warm from her touch. As soon as the little device got closer to me, every single one of the lights turned on and stayed on.
"Vampires were made with dark magic," I said. "We still contain traces of it. If this little thing can't distinguish between different kinds of dark magic, it'll just lead you to vampires and any witch selling petty hexes."
"What do you think I should do, then, since you're such an expert?" she asked.
"Let me help," I blurted out, though I hadn't entirely meant to say it. "I can feel out dark magic with a lot more nuance than this gadget."
Evangeline studied me. "Why?" she said. "Why do you want to help me?"
I tried to come up with a reason that didn't involve the way she smelled or how much her gaze affected me. "This artifact," I managed. "It holds power, yes? The vampires who have been going missing lately… If someone was trying to drain the dark magic from them, they'd need somewhere to store it."
Her expression was unreadable. "I'll think about it. But don't hold your breath."