Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Jillian and her enormous muscle-bound vamps led us in the back door of the nightclub, and we wove our way through heaving, half-naked sweaty bodies, grinding away to the sensual pound of bass. In a small alcove in the VIP area upstairs, a hidden door revealed a long, black stone corridor.
At the end of the corridor was a floating circle of black flames. We walked straight through it and into the vampire realm.
It was exactly as I imagined. It was cold, so cold I could see the breath leave my lips as puffy clouds of vapor.
Above us lay an endless night sky, a sliver of crescent moon peeked through thick, black-bottomed clouds.
Enormous gothic castles perched precariously on the side of towering craggy mountains.
We got into what looked like a Victorian-era funeral carriage pulled by enormous black stallions and rode up the mountain, the carriage wheels occasionally dangling over the edge of the path, threatening to plunge us into the ravines a thousand miles below us.
“It’s all a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Cecil said, craning his neck, trying to peer out the lacy curtains.
I smirked. “Jealous?”
“The Ancients favor the classics,” Jillian said. “On the other side of the mountains we’ve got a more national forest kind of setup, tall pines, stony beaches filled with driftwood, that kind of thing. And on the far edge, we’ve got a little cityscape for the Underworld and Blade fans.”
“This is great, though,” Cecil said approvingly. “The ravens are a nice touch.”
I squirmed. “Cecil, I love you, but you weigh a ton. This is seriously uncomfortable.”
He snuggled back around my shoulders. “But I’m nice and warm, though.”
I grumbled a little under my breath. He was nice and warm, and this realm was icy cold. I glanced over at Donovan to see if he wanted to cuddle and saw his shoulders tense. I reached out and took his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am not, Chosen. We should not have come here alone. The two of us are riding into what might be enemy territory, with no backup.”
“Two of us? What am I, chopped liver?” Cecil said snarkily.
“No.” Donovan stared at him. “You are a coat,” he said pointedly.
“You dishonor us.” Jillian lifted her chin. “The Ancients have guaranteed your safety in our home realm. There are no rogues left in these lands, and our portals are both secret and secure.”
Secret, my ass. This was the problem with powerful people; they were so arrogant. I opened my mouth, saw the look on her face, and closed it again.
“No one will harm you here,” she went on firmly. “The Ancients have given their word.”
“I mean no offense,” Donovan rumbled. “I am merely on my guard. I would be foolish to lower it.”
It took a long time to get to the towering castle above us. It was even more impressive close-up. “Those gargoyles are nice,” I commented as we climbed out of the carriage.
“They probably were, when they were alive,” Cecil said.
“Huh?”
“A tale for another time. Put your game face on, girl.”
Cecil was right; it was time to match energy.
I straightened my shoulders with a little difficulty and strode towards the castle doors in my structured blood-red, full-length gown.
Thankfully, Cecil had gone for a Gothic Queen look to complement his fuzzy dark-gold fur draped over my shoulders, so the outfit included black thigh-high crocodile skin boots with a sensible stacked heel.
My toes, at least, were nice and warm. And Donovan matched me nicely in his fae battle leathers and armor.
I took his arm, and we walked up the stone steps of the castle. Donovan leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “You play the part so well. You look like a Queen.”
I wanted to grin, but that would ruin the aesthetic. Instead, I bowed my head regally. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Donovan only hesitated for a fraction of a second before he turned to meet my eye. “I suppose I need to get used to that title.”
“It’s either that or die,” Cecil chirped. “It’s what you are. The King in Exile with his mighty Queen. Thanks to me, you both look perfect. And you’re well matched to the vibes of the vampire realm, too. I am a genius!”
“You’re a coat,” Donovan reminded him.
For the vampires, looking good was probably half the battle. It actually felt quite easy to adjust to the vibrations of this realm. “I suppose it helps that I’ve got vampire blood in my veins.”
“You’ve got everything in your veins, Chosen,” Cecil said. “Connor is just a high fae. You should argue that point in more of these discussions. I think you’d be accepted a lot faster if you did.”
“Well, I won’t, because blood doesn’t matter, Cecil. Only actions matter. I don’t think anyone deserves to make decisions about people’s lives just because they were born to royal parents. Hereditary monarchy breeds weak, foolish leaders. No offense,” I said to Donovan hastily.
His eyes twinkled. “I take none, for I agree with you, Chosen. If there were another more suited for the throne of the Kingdom of the Crystal Castle, I would abdicate in a heartbeat. And I will,” he said, turning to meet my eyes.
“I’ll stand beside your throne.” His gaze smoldered, and his tone dropped low. “Or kneel in front of it.”
An image of his head between my legs burst into my mind’s eye. “Stop,” I moaned. “You’re making me blush, and I’ve got a bunch of decrepit ancient vampires to talk to. They’ll probably try and bite my cheeks off.”
“Yeah, stop,” Cecil echoed. “You’ll flood her panties. They’re my escape route in case the vamps find out I’m not a coat. I can dive in there and hide somewhere in her giant hairy bush. They’ll never find me.”
“Cecil.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Please, Donovan, go on with what you were saying about your monarchy.”
Donovan let out a gruff sigh. “Unfortunately, fae culture has always been feudal, and the people would not accept a leader that was not born of royal blood. But fortunately, I was not just born to rule. I was taught to rule.”
I pursed my lips. “I wasn’t taught to rule.”
“You learned to manage people.” He gave me a hint of a smile. “It is the same thing.”
We fell silent as we approached the entrance.
Two masked vampires in long scarlet tunics opened the doors of the castle and stood to attention as we walked inside.
Our steps echoed on the flagstones. The place was truly enormous.
Cavernous, even, with pointed arches and marble columns everywhere.
Torches blazed in sconces, and thousands of white candles dripped wax down gold candelabras and from the chandeliers overhead.
“So dramatic,” I muttered.
Jillian led us for what felt like miles and miles through the entrance hall. Eventually, we came to a set of grand black and gilt doors. Two more masked, tunic-clad vampires opened them, revealing another ode to the vampire aesthetic.
This one was less Bram Stoker, more Nosferatu. An enormous stone cave lay before us. High above, razor-sharp black stalactites dipped their points low. A narrow path wound through thousands of sinister looking stalagmites. On every flat surface, a black candle shone, dripping wax.
At the far end of the cave, a long slab of gleaming black marble had been carved out of the floor, forming a long table. Eerie figures sat behind it, deathly still, their pale faces illuminated by candlelight.
I examined them as we walked the million miles through the cave towards them.
There were twelve in total, both men and women, from what I could see.
All were stunningly beautiful, wrapped in sumptuous robes and gowns, draped in luxurious-looking furs and shining black leather.
They certainly didn’t look ancient; in fact, the oldest one looked around my age.
Most of them appeared, like Jillian, to be in their mid-thirties.
One boy on the end looked like a kid, no more than ten years old.
At first glance, he looked almost adorable—chubby cheeks and bowl-cut blond hair.
Then, you saw his eyes, and it was obvious that he was no kid.
The whole company had given me a crash course in vampire culture while we were dressing.
Now I knew that vampires, like most Middle World creatures, were born like human babies and grew in a relatively similar manner—less baby bottles and more bloodsucking.
I knew they had the ability to halt the aging process, so they could stay young forever if they wished.
What I didn’t understand is why any vampire would want to stay looking like a ten-year-old kid. It sounded awful. Although all that extra collagen for all eternity would be a bonus.
“Not digging the set-up, Chosen?” Cecil whispered to me. He’d obviously sensed my mood.
“No, I was thinking maybe I could activate my vamp genes, stop aging, and throw away all my expensive skincare.” I let out a little snigger, then cut myself off abruptly when Jillian’s eyes shot towards me.
I know, I know. Time to be serious.
I didn’t want to, though. The vampires were taking themselves seriously enough. All the pomp and posturing just felt a little silly to me.
Maybe I was tired. Maybe I was a little overwhelmed, run down, whatever. But all this bullshit…
Don’t forget about Connor, my brain whispered to me. These people could give him their spark stone. He could devour it and get powerful compelling magic. Then, we’d all be screwed.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus.
The Ancients watched us approach, unmoving.
In fact, they might as well be statues. Jillian stopped twelve feet from the marble slab they sat behind and bowed deeply.
“My lords and ladies,” she called out in a loud, deep voice.
“As requested, I bring you the one they call The Chosen.” She rose, and backed away, leaving me front-and center.
The Ancients stared at me.
I stared back at them.
Silence stretched on.