Chapter 95 #2
“I expected more,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken a word which made my teeth grind audibly. “The infamous April. Queen. Survivor. Executioner.” A thin smile curves his lips so ominous, cold sweat trickled down my spine. “You look… tired.”
“Funny,” my own drawl has no effect on him. “That’s exactly what I would’ve said about you and your daughter, too.”
Still nothing. No anger. No reaction.
Only keen interest brightening the glint in those pitch black eyes.
With a soft chuckle he steps closer, stopping just outside the glowing barrier of the cursed dome. Close enough that I can see faint scars along his cheekbones. Silver patchwork that is visible only as the light hits it right. Ritual burns, maybe? Whatever they were one thing was very clear.
This was a man who has paid in blood for his power.
“My name is Viktor,” he says calmly as if we met on an outing and we are exchanging pleasantries. “Though titles tend to precede it. Commander. Architect. Liberator.” His gaze hardens. “You may call me the man who is going to end you and your kind.”
I laugh, sharp and hollow, hoping to cover the unease his words provoked. “It’s funny how you think you are the first one to come up with that plan, but you do you.”
His lips twitch.
“Brave,” he murmurs. “Predictable but brave nonetheless. Every vampire believes they are exceptional.” He tilts his head. “You are not.”
Something in his tone, the absolute certainty of what he was saying sends a ripple down my spine.
“I didn’t bring you here to admire you,” Viktor continues, thankfully oblivious that I willingly walked into his trap. “Or because I fear you. I brought you here because I have a use for you.”
My jaw tightens. “Careful. You sound desperate.”
“Pragmatic,” he corrects. “There is a difference.” Gesturing lazily toward me for the first time he offers me a genuine smile. “Your blood on the other hand,” he says, “is rather… remarkable.”
Sara slides closer toward him, a flicker of pride crossing her face.
“Hybridized through ancient lineage. Saturated with throne magic. Reinforced by centuries of ritual inheritance.” His eyes gleam commandeering my full attention. “You are not merely royal, April. You are the answer to all my problems.”
My stomach drops.
“And when I extract it,” he continues softly, “your blood becomes a catalyst.”
I bare my teeth. “You won’t get anywhere near—”
“You will do exactly what? Nothing,” Viktor interrupts, still calm. “Because you cannot.”
He circles slowly, hands clasped behind his back, lost in his own world where I will drop on my knees and let him do anything he wants. Crazy mages.
“With your blood,” he goes on, oblivious to my internal raging, “we can amplify every mage under my command. Triple their capacity. Stabilize volatile spellworks. Remove their exhaustion. Remove their limits.” He finally looks directly at me and everything in me stills.
“I will have an army that never tires. Never weakens. Never fails.”
The words land like stones in my belly and dizziness sweeps every thought I have.
Rage boils in my chest. “You’re insane.”
“No,” he replies pleasantly. “I am efficient.” He leans closer, his face inches from the barrier. “For centuries, vampires have ruled through cruelty,” he hisses. “Through myth. Through manipulation. Through lies. You convinced the world you were immortal gods.”
Taking a deep breath, he collects himself. His voice drops. “I intend to correct that mistake.”
We stare at each other mutely for a long moment, neither one of us blinking. There is something ancient lurking behind those eyes.
“With your help,” he continues, “we will erase your kind. City by city. Nest by nest. Until the word ‘vampire’ becomes nothing more than a footnote in storybooks.” A smile touches his lips. “Written by mages.”
Sara finally speaks, her hand reaching for Viktor but not daring to touch him. Interesting. “Father, we…”
“She will save thousands of lives,” Viktor cuts in smoothly, spinning on his heel to face her. “Mages lives, Sara. You did well.”
Whatever she was about to say is forgotten and her shoulders straighten. Pride. Loyalty. Brainwashed devotion flitted across her face and she beams at him.
I swallow hard, forcing myself not to show fear or to let treacherous thoughts that this was a bad idea show.
“So,” I say. “You’re planning our genocide, powered by my blood. Cute.”
He chuckles quietly. “All of you reduce everything to mockery,” he observes. “Another common trait among your species.” Then his expression hardens. “But understand this, April. You are not my prisoner.”
“Do tell what am I, oh wise one.”
“You are my resource,” he nods his head gallantly like he didn’t just threaten my life. “My solution. My victory. And resources,” he adds, voice ice-cold, “are always used to their fullest potential.”
Whatever I was going to reply gets stuck in my throat when Viktor flings his hand my way, slapping me with some spell I don’t see him chant or mumble out loud.
The magic sinks into my skin, taking all my strength with it, and I start falling down.
All sorts of curses and threats scream in my head, but I’m on the floor with no time to fight to say them out loud.
The clearest of them all is, “This plan better work or I’ll never hear the end of it from Sebastian. ”
Darkness swallows me.