Chapter X. Come the Blood-Red Dawn
X
COME THE BLOOD-RED DAWN
“OH, GAbrIEL.”
Jean-Francois’s hand was pressed to his dead heart, his voice a whisper.
“Oh, you poor bastard.”
The silversaint sighed. Dragging his hands back through his hair, he sat with spine bent and shoulders hunched. His eyes were shot through with crimson cracks, fixed upon that moth battering upon the globe. Nudging the empty bottle with his boot, he murmured.
“I’m thirsty, coldblood.”
“You told me your daughter was dead, you said—”
“Jean-Francois.”
The silversaint met the vampire’s eyes.
Smudged with shadows.
Brimming with madness.
“I’m thirsty.”
Their eyes drifted, each with the other, across the stone floor toward the door. There, in the sliver of light beneath the iron cuff, a shadow could be seen.
“… Perhaps you could call Meline to fetch another bottle.”
Gabriel’s eyes drifted back to the vampire, embers burning in cool storm grey.
“Perhaps … we might share a drink.”
Chocolat eyes glittered at that, pale lips curling.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Trying to distract me, mon ami. Shame on you.’
“No distractions. No bullshit. I’m thirsty, Jean-Francois.”
The vampire’s smile faded, dark eyes agleam.
All his blood-drunk fancies of the past few nights surfacing, the stare between them deepening, the chymistrie fair crackling in the air.
He was a liar, was Gabriel de León. A serpent in an angel’s guise.
But Jean-Francois had dragged enough innocents into sin that he could recognize another sinner when he saw one.
And Gabriel de León was no stranger to wickedness, that much was plain.
Yet still …
“Be that as it may,” the historian said, “you simply cannot leave your tale there. Your nemesis but a handsbreadth away and your daughter resurrected in your arms and your comrades all poised at death’s door?”
The vampire shook his head, marveling.
“What in God’s name did you do?”
“The only thing I could, coldblood.”
The silversaint rose from his chair, leathers creaking as he walked to the window on colt’s legs.
He gazed beyond the glass, the peaks of the Hawkspire Pass rising in the cloud-struck gloom.
The storm still raged outside, winds lashing ancient stone, snows crusted on the glass.
But somewhere out there, Jean-Francois knew the Voss were riding hard, the Iron Maiden drawing closer, ever closer toward this man’s end.
Will I weep at his death, as I told him?
Or was it easier just to lie?
“Patience clung to me as I got to my feet,” Gabriel said.
“My legs were shaking so badly, I feared I’d not be able to rise.
But walking out across the chateau stairs, I bellowed for our men to hold.
Not to lay down their arms, mind you. Not surrender.
But to hold, God, hold for one moment while I clawed my way to the heart of this madness.
“Valentino was dead, bled out on cold stone, his sword yet hanging from my numbed fingers. My eyes fell on Lachlan, on Aaron, heart crawling into my throat. Kestrel stood poised with her scythe at Lachie’s neck, Aaron surrounded by foulbloods on the bloody cobbles behind her.
And though the former was but a breath from decapitation, the latter a heartbeat from being devoured, both still sighed at the sight of that pale angel in my arms, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe.
“‘Brother,’ Lachie whispered.
“‘Oh, Gabriel…’ Aaron breathed.
“‘Hold! ’ I roared again. ‘Put up your swords! ’
“Bewildered, bloodied, Charlotte saw the little girl in my arms, and she too roared the order. All around the courtyard, upon the walls, soldiers drenched in blood eased back, eyes wide and hearts hammering under the cold gaze of the corpse army around them.
“They were motionless. All of them. Thousands upon thousands of monsters, rotten skin and sunken eyes, pallid flesh and gleaming fangs, all held perfectly still by the power of a monster greater still.
His thralls looked toward him, the halls of their minds ringing with the iron of his command, his children gazing with ebon eyes upon their Forever King.
“He stood behind me. Wreathed in that unlight so bitterbleak it froze the soul.
“‘No greater gift,’ Voss smiled, ‘than love of family.’
“‘I missed you.’
“The words were a cold whisper against my ear. My daughter drew back from my embrace, and my heart was cleaved in two to see her cheeks were wet and red, her eyes filmed pink by bloody tears. But the smile …
“God help me, that smile was still hers.
“‘I missed you too, baby. So much.’
“Patience squeezed me again, such awful strength in her slender arms, long black hair plastered to the blood on my face.
“‘Papa Fabién told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe him.’
“‘Papa Fabién…’
“Patience smiled and brushed the hair from my face, slick with ash and gore. And as she gazed upon me, my beautiful angel, eyes shining with purest joy at the father she adored, she licked the blood from her fingers like jam from a sweet roll overflown.
“‘Where have you been, Papa?’
“I almost didn’t hear her, near blinded by horror and rage.
“‘… Papa?’
“‘I was busy, baby. I was trying to … I w-was keeping a promise.’
“‘To who?’
“I faltered then, looking toward my friends. My brothers.
“‘… It doesn’t matter anymore.’
“‘Shall we talk, old friend? ’
“I looked to Fabién then, my heart athunder, my mind almost unmoored. He’d stepped back, molten porcelain, gesturing within the chateau.
“‘You let them go.’ I glanced to my friends, my men, scattered and spattered and bleeding on frozen stone. ‘You let them go, Voss.’
“‘Go? ’ A thin frown marred his perfect brow. ‘Why would I let them go, old friend? Honored guests, thee and thine. Now that quick tempers hath cooled.’
“‘No games. No lies, no bullshit—’
“‘Papa!’ Patience scolded, grey eyes gone wide. ‘That’s a wicked word.’
“Fabién smiled then. ‘Well raised, our daughter, no? A perfect young Prince.’
“‘I told you, Papa Fabién.’ Patience pouted. ‘I’m not a prince, I’m a princess.’
“‘Just so, my love. But the garish daystar be yet abroad and sweet nightfall still uncome. Time for all good princesses to be abed.’
“‘But I want to stay with Papa! I missed him, please don’t make me go!’
“‘Thy papa and I have much to discuss, my heart sweetest, my love dearest. But he shall return to thee anon. And then, he shall sing thee to sleep as once he used to, remember? Thy heart would gladden at that, aye? ’
“‘Will you, Papa?’ Patience asked, searching my eyes. ‘Will you sing for me?’
“‘Of c-course I will.’
“‘Why are you crying, Papa?’
“I shut my eyes and drew her close. ‘I just missed you is all.’
“‘I missed you too. I love you so much.’
“‘Oh, God help me, I love you too.’
“‘Come now, Patience. Go with sweet sister Morgane.’
“My angel released her grip only reluctantly, showering my cheeks with kisses before she slipped from my arms. My heart was torn asunder to let her go, but all still felt poised on the edge of a knife here—I dared not risk endangering her so soon after being reunited. Licking bloody lips, Patience walked to the vampire she’d arrived with, shrouded in a beautiful red gown and a stole of grey fox.
Taking Morgane’s pale hand, my daughter turned to me and blew me another kiss, eyes gleaming like silver in the dark.
“‘Godmorrow, Papa.’
“‘Sweet dreams, b-baby.’
“She shook her head then, smiling. ‘Vampires don’t dream, silly.’
“In the blood-soaked courtyard, all across the battlements, awful stillness reigned. Corpses frozen, pallid and rotten, fangs gleaming in hungry mouths. Soldiers with bloody blades and bloodless faces stood paralyzed, wondering what in God’s name could come next.
The Crow and the Maiden both stood ready to murder my friends, but Voss glanced toward his daughter, then his son, no movement wasted, no order given.
At once, Ettiene eased away from Charlotte’s back, Kestrel lifting her scythe from Lachlan’s throat.
“‘Shall we speak inside, old friend? ’
“I turned to him then, trembling with hatred. ‘Speak of what?’
“‘Told thee, did I. Cometh the blood-red dawn, I should teach thee of the Faithless, Gabriel. The deceit they hath spun, and the doom they hath brung.’
“‘Nothing you say will matter. All you are is lies.’
“‘Evil I am, through and through. Servant to an evil higher, I vow it true. But I tell thee now, old friend, by ev’ry drop of blood I hath spilled, ev’ry city I hath slaved, ev’ry babe I hath slaughtered, there be no greater evil ’pon this wretched earth than the one thy sister serves.
Let me tell thee now, of that plague we did name Faithless. ’
“‘We can’t trust him!’
“I turned at Baptiste’s call, echoing across the bloody battlements.
“‘Godssakes, you can’t trust him, Gabriel!’
“Lachlan had dragged himself upright, gasping for breath. Throat drooling blood, he met my eyes, his own brimming with tears.
“‘Don’t do it, Gabe.’
“‘No more blood shall I here spill. Courtesy do I offer thee, under forms of Old. No demand shall I make of thee, Gabriel. No snare shall I lay for thee, no dirge shall I play for thee. And when my piece is spake, I shall offer thee the simplest of choices.’
“Aaron scoffed. ‘Kneel or die.’
“‘At thy throats are my legions already slaked, Aaron Dyvok. Enough for trek to Augustin, at least. No need hath I for thy dregs. Shouldst departure be thy wish at council’s end, I shall harry not thy steps. In peace shall ye enter, and in peace ye may depart.’
“Black eyes fell on mine, empty as fresh graves.
“‘I shall e’en allow thee to take our daughter with thee, Gabriel. Should ye wish.’
“‘Our daughter?’
“‘So she be. My old friend.’
“‘Then what choice are you offering? Listen to your bullshit then leave or…? What? What other option is there?’
“‘Join me, of course.’
“Lachlan actually laughed at that, sharing an incredulous glance with Aaron. But though the rage in me was seething, the horror sickening, none of it was blinding. I knew he was made of purest deceit, but in one matter at least, Fabién Voss had spoke true.
“He could’ve killed us.
“He could have butchered us all.
“And yet …
“More figures had gathered in the entrance hall now, pale and beautiful—an entire court of finely frocked highbloods he’d not bothered to bring to bear.
Well-heeled servants hovered nearby, holding trays laden with brimming goblets.
I stood bewildered as a page in Voss livery stepped forward and offered to take my coat.
The Forever King bowed low, languid and graceful, arm swept out toward his chateau.
Pale lace dripped from his sleeve, his head inclined like some genteel laerd, inviting honored guests into his home.
“‘Enter freely, and of thine own will.’
“I could feel his eyes on me, thoughts brushing mine like a lover’s, like a father not my father. I pictured my angel then, cold and hard but real, God, real in my arms, my soul chilled at the memory of her razorblade smile, licking that blood off her fingers like …
“Voss smiled. Like all light’s dying. And I remembered Mama’s journal then.
“Daysdeath hadn’t even fallen in the nights Wulfric knew her.
“There was no darkness yet across the skies.
“So what blackened veil had he been talking about?
“I looked to my brothers. My friends. My men. Then back toward that open maw.
“And what could I do, vampire?
“What could I do?
“I walked inside.”