Chapter 8
KING OF THE VAMPIRES
CORA
Idon’t retain many memories from my final days in Ochre. There are only a handful I hold inside my head, and they are the most painful of all. By themselves, they are enough to eat a person alive, to devour them whole until death feels like the gentlest option.
Maintaining these memories is an art. I keep them far enough they won’t destroy me, but close enough I never forget.
As I lie in bed that night, I feel the scratch of old memories at the edge of my mind. I don’t ignore them like I normally would. I sift through them, rejecting any that include Elliot, until I find the one I inexplicably crave.
Cora Reed
age 15
Neutral territory
Don’t stop, I beg myself. My legs are numb. Maybe from the stark cold. Maybe from the countless miles they’ve carried me. I don’t know how long I’ve been running. I don’t let myself slow enough to take a guess.
I keep moving, knees buckling as I cross the neutral territory.
The ground here is scarred and black, still reeling from the witches’ curse years ago.
My people see themselves as the Echo’s saviors, and yet, they destroy far more than they protect.
The neutral territory is meant as a safe haven, but their magic is a disease here, contained only by the thick black ledge surrounding these cities.
I run for so long, it’s too difficult to think. I rely on instinct alone, eyes blurring against the brutal wind.
It is only once I reach an outer ledge that I pause.
My legs tremble until I finally allow them to collapse.
I fall to the burnt dirt in a heap, digging my bloodied fingers into the soil.
I am soaked in blood. It’s splattered across my clothes, my face, my hair.
It’s beneath my fingernails, dark and dried.
I don’t know where I am. I’m hoping this is the Flight Realm. In all the times I dreamed of running away from Ochre, I imagined going to the mountains. I can see them from here, but I can’t tell if this ledge borders the Flight Realm…or enemy lands.
I have heard terrible things about the Night Realm. Heartless vampires. Volatile werewolves. Monstrous fiends, neither human nor other.
I glance over my shoulder. There’s a neutral town less than a mile from where I sit now. Every town I’ve crossed thus far has been sleeping, and I’ve been grateful. Sleeping people don’t ask questions.
But in the Night Realm, the safest hours come with daylight. Most werewolf packs are deeper north. Vampires are my greatest threat, and until sunrise, I won’t risk crossing into their lands.
I may be without golden bands for the first time in years, but that doesn’t mean I know how to use magic.
The power pulsing through my body feels more like a liability than a strength.
It was enough to get me out of the prison, and I’d like to believe I could take any number of vampire attackers.
I’m just not sure I’m ready to bet my life on it.
I let out a shaky breath. My vision is going hazy. I don’t know if it’s fatigue or if it’s an effect of using magic for the first time. All I know is I want to throw up and cry and maybe sleep for the next fifty years.
Does Elliot know? I wonder. Has he heard?
I dig my fingers tighter into the dirt and glare at the skyline. There’s at least an hour left of nightfall. I could wait here until daybreak, but that’s an hour for one of Lyrie’s soldiers to find me. To capture me before I even see them. To drag me back to the Day Realm.
I won’t escape a second time.
“Go,” I hiss under my breath. “Don’t think. Just. Go.”
I’m back on my feet. Legs pumping, eyes locked on the distant mountains. It’s easy to distinguish the neutral territory, but the realms fade into each other. In the darkness, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
“Focus on the mountains,” I say. And I run and run and run, far longer than my body should allow.
My breath is harsh and ragged. My heart feels ready to burst out of my chest. My vision dances with spots, and maybe that’s why I don’t see him coming until it’s too late.
He crashes against me, and I pummel into the dirt like a wounded bird. I roll twice before coming to an abrupt stop on my stomach. Letting out a rough groan, I rotate onto my back.
Everything hurts. I’m positive I’ve broken a few ribs. Possibly my ankle too.
“Hello, little one,” the man says. He’s standing several feet away, watching me with his head tilted.
He wears all black. A buttoned shirt. Straight-leg pants. Shoes that reflect the moon. It’s all simple, but undoubtedly expensive.
I’ve never seen this man in person, and still, I know him with unwavering certainty.
“Sebastian Vulce,” I whisper.
I have been taught to fear this man. King of the vampires. The ruler who fed from Madam Lyrie’s throat in a show of resistance. The man who brought the sun curse over his people. Madam Lyrie did it to punish Sebastian, but she’d punished them all. And now, I’m at his mercy.
“You’re a far way from home, little witch,” he says. He doesn’t have fangs that I can see, but I don’t doubt their existence. He could have my blood drained in seconds, and I’m assuming that’s on his agenda.
“I hate her,” I blurt. “Madam Lyrie. I hate her as much as you do. Maybe more.”
“Is that so?” Sebastian muses. He steps closer, his shoes kicking up dust. The Flight Realm, I realize. We’re definitely in the Flight Realm, but I’m not sure why I thought that would protect me.
This is the king of the vampires. He won’t fear the Flight Realm’s laws. By the time they find my drained body, they’ll have no idea who killed me anyway.
“Yes,” I say. My mouth is dry.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks. His attention flickers from me, almost bored, as he surveys the space around us. “Dangerous place for a young witch. Though by the blood on your clothes, you may be the danger.”
“I’m due for execution,” I tell him. There’s no point in lying. “Madam Lyrie wants my head, and I wasn’t interested in giving it.”
Sebastian’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes return to me.
“Your crime?” he asks. His voice is chillingly soft, and I get the eerie sense he’s playing with his food. Luring me into a sense of calm before going for my throat.
“Murder,” I say.
Sebastian’s eyebrow ticks. I wait for him to ask whether my victim deserved it. Whether I feel guilty. Whether I’m ashamed.
Instead, he holds his hand toward me. I stare at it, seeing it for the viper it is.
“We cannot delay,” he says. He steps closer, roughly grabbing my elbow and pulling me to my feet. I’m shaking before him, trembling so hard my knees knock together. “Sunlight is coming.”
“Do it quickly,” I say. It comes out as a command, and for whatever reason, I hope I sound brave.
“I will not be killing you,” he tells me.
Without asking, he scoops me into his arms, holding me like a child. I shriek, hands instinctively grabbing his collar. My entire body hurts, but I can do one more spell. Just one more, and then I can keep running for the mountains.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
There’s no time to close my eyes, and there’s definitely no time to cast. We’re already moving, the world zipping around us faster than I can comprehend. My vision blurs and my stomach tightens. Before I realize it, I lose consciousness.
Some time later, I wake in an unfamiliar place. The walls are grey stone. The air is bitterly cold and unpleasantly stagnant. Dust covers every surface around me, including this bed.
I gasp, surging onto my elbows.
I expect to be alone, but the vampire king stands before me. He leans against the wall, surveying me with a displeased expression. I pat over my body, surprised to find my bloodied clothes still on but my wounds gone.
“You healed me,” I say. It’s more accusation than gratitude, but I can see the dried blood on his wrist. He’s healed me—and a vampire favor never comes without a cost.
“Yes,” he says.
“Why?”
“You claim to hate Madam Lyrie,” he says. “I’m giving you the chance to prove it.”