Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (25 page)

“Do not bore our milady with your pitiful lures, Oberon,” Lord Farquat said, pushing the fat fae out of the away. “Lady Natalia knows only a few of us are worthy of her beauty,” he imparted, bowing low and smearing Natalia’s hand with his lips.

For Hiad’s sake! What a bunch of buffoons.

Natalia blinked a couple of times and her cheeks grew slightly pink. It was clear she wasn’t used to so much attention. And Petran preferred it that way.

“Lord Somenski, please take a seat. The walk over here must have tired you.” Petran stood up and reached out to his old friend, making sure he passed between Farquat and Talia, breaking their connected hands. Farquat did not take it kindly, and tried to swing past Petran to stand beside Talia. Unfortunately, he found Petran’s foot along the way. The slimy prick missed his step and tripped sideways, losing his grace and face in front of everyone.

“Thank you, old friend, but Kalaur insisted we sit at his table,” Somenski replied. The hint of annoyance in his voice clearly stated how he really felt about the sitting arrangements.

“It will be my honor to take you there then,” Petran replied, taking Somenski’s by the elbow.

“There’s no need, your majesty,” Natalia uttered curtly. “I can take my father.”

“I insist,” Petran said, pinning her with his eyes.

She held her gaze high, clearly not liking his interference but after a moment, she bowed her head conceding defeat.

Petran smiled inside. Talia was a rebel at heart all right but she was still the daughter of a Lord, and her rigid upbringing had set roots too deep for her to ignore.

They crossed the ballroom together, but in worlds apart. It was as if they had never met.

Thankfully, despite his poor health, Somenski was in a chatty mood and stopped every second step to greet the other guests. Petran was happy to play the chaperone to the old sod as it gave him the perfect excuse to spend more time in Natalia’s company without raising any eyebrows.

After a while, curiosity overthrew her coldness and her grey gaze swayed toward his. More than once, he caught her peeking at him but as quick as it happened, she would lift her chin high and look away.

After a quarter of an hour, they finally arrived at Kalaur’s table. It appeared that the Soartas were on his side tonight because the swine had not arrived yet.

Petran helped Somenski take his seat, and then pulled a chair for Talia. She took it, quite stiffly.

“Somenski, would you mind if I asked your daughter for a waltz?” Petran’s offer was out of his mouth before his brain could stop it.

Talia’s eyes went wide in surprise.

“Of course not,” Somenski replied. “I’ve been telling her she needs to relax, to go watch the games, to mingle with the other ladies, but she refuses.”

“Ah, but a lady cannot refuse the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she has already accepted that of another. And I believe I am
her
first
,” Petran replied, purposefully locking gazes with Talia. “Will you honor me with a waltz, milady?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Father, you need me here, to fetch you food. It’s past the time for your supper.”

“Nonsense,” her father bellowed waving his hand for her to move along. “There are several servants who can fetch me dinner.” Talia opened her mouth to argue but Somenski cut her off. “Go, Natalia, let yourself be reckless for once. Apa Dobrý won’t punish you for enjoying life, you know?”

A cute blush colored her cheeks as she muttered, “I truly hope you are right.”

Petran barely contained the chuckle from curling up his lips, disguising it as a cough. He knew she was also thinking about their night together, and how reckless she had already been. Her dear father had no idea just how much she had already enjoyed life.

She exhaled sharply, then pushed off the chair and accepted Petran’s arm.

Several couples waltzed almost elbow-to-elbow to each other, so he guided her to the far end of the dance area and pulled her against him. She gasped then blinked a few times. With measured movements, he interlaced his fingers in hers and snaked his arm around her waist. She didn’t rebuff him, but her grim expression was quite disconcerting.

“Try not to look too happy, milady,” he murmured, as he guided the first steps in tune with the music. “The others may notice and start talking.”

“I care not for idle tongues, your majesty,” she replied, stiffly. “However, I do mind the deceitful ones.”

Touché, my sweet
. “Not all deceit is planned, milady, sometimes circumstance gets in the way of honor.”

“Only well-versed cheaters use external forces as an excuse,” she uttered finally meeting him in the eye. By Apa Dobrý, they were as cold as the ices of Hiad. It was clear that she despised him for abandoning her.

“It is not an excuse, Natalia,” Petran muttered, trying to keep his voice down. “The world is changing at a rapid pace, new alliances are being forged and I—”

“Truly, your majesty?” she interrupted him. “Oh, I shall thank thee for opening my eyes, for I had not noticed it until you, in your greatness, pointed it out to me.”

“Talia—” Petran paused just in time to greet a fae couple who danced by. “Good evening, sir, milady,” he said cordially.

“Good evening to you too, your majesty,” the fae lord replied.

Damn this overcrowded ball!
Cautious not to look too obvious, he waltzed them further along the room to the empty space behind the stage. When he was sure no one was close enough to hear them, he carried on, “Were you aware that your bedroom is being watched by Kalaur’s sentinels day and night?”

She tried to avert her eyes but this time, he tightened his grip on her back, forcing her to look at him. “And so am I. They have been following me ever since the night after Kalaur announced your wedding.”

“I may have been a virgin when you took me, your majesty, but do not take me for a fool,” she growled, making him almost regret forcing her to look at him. “You can dematerialize at your whim. No other vampire manages to do it, but you can
cloud out
and roam around freely, so please spare me your ridiculous excuses. I know exactly what happened.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You wanted me because you could not have me. I was a prize for you to win—a virgin, a draconian duchess, one never yet touched by a man. And like every other male in history, once you had your prize, the quest was no longer appealing to you.”

“What in Hiad are you saying, woman?” Petran felt completely taken aback, and did not know what cut him deeper, her bitter tone or her rude words. “I never meant to—” 

“Please,” Talia said cutting him off. “There is no need for justifications. I knew very well what I was getting myself into with you. As I said, I may have been a virgin, your majesty, but I was not a fool.”

“Stop calling me that,” Petran growled.

“Stop calling you what, your majesty?”

“That…your majesty!”

“How else am I going to address you, your—”

“Don’t,” he commanded, stopping her before she uttered that lousy word again. He could not help it. Natalia was playing with fire and he was about to burst in frustration. He locked her waist in a firm grip, tugged her arms up around his neck, and leaned down against her ear. “I want you to call me by my first name, Talia,” he drawled. “The way you did when we were together. When my lips were on yours, when I had my arms wrapped around you and your legs enveloping my waist. I want you to scream my name and beg me for more.”

Her breathing picked up pace almost immediately. Her milky torso popped up at every breath.
Yes
, the little devil inside him cheered. His touch still made her tremble, probably as much as he trembled to touch her.

“Only husband and wife call each other by their first names,” she whispered, but didn’t pull back. “You are not my husband.”

“No, I am not. Kalaur is to take that title,” he groaned. Their lips were so close, almost touching. It took all his energy to not to close the gap and do what he knew both of them were craving for.

“You say it as if I was to blame for the marriage agreement,” Talia exclaimed.

“I do not see you fighting against it.” As soon as his words came out, Petran regretted them. It was not true and he knew it but her stiffness had cut him deep, and he was a proud vampire after all.

Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened in fury. “How dare you even think that?”

“Your father has been awake for almost two full evenings. One does wonder why you have not talked to him about Kalaur’s betrothal announcement.”

“He is still recovering,” Talia growled through clenched teeth. “Besides, there are always guards and maids around him.”

“Oh, please, Natalia,” Petran chuckled bitterly. “Do you want me to believe that you, who have all the servants under your wings, could not find a moment of privacy with your own father to talk about the most important decision of your life?” His words were dripping with frustration. Damn the Soartas, he was losing his grip on his emotions. Again. 

“You have no idea how exasperating it is to be a woman in our society, to have your entire life decided for you, and being barred from even having a say in it, as if you were mentally crippled, and unable to make your own choices. I have been fighting this ever since I was born, Petran. Do not accuse me of complacency because you have no idea.”

“You are right, Natalia, I do not know what it feels like to be a woman in our society, but I know too well what it is to have your life planned out for you and have no escape. Do you truly believe my life is my own? I have a race which depends on me, a council who plots against me, a wife who cheats on me, and a son who despises me, so what else do you want?” Petran as much as spit it back. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he could not contain his frustration.

Natalia cringed at his harsh words, and blinked fast, as if fighting tears.

Well done, Petran.

He closed his eyes and tried to remind his nerves that she was the victim here, caught in the middle of a political game between land lords. He was the villain for dragging her innocence into it all. It did not matter how he came to feel about her, to care about her. It was wrong to have taken her virginity, and it was even more despicable to have deserted her afterwards.

He caressed his thumb against her palm, and pulled her tighter against his chest. It was a dangerous move, the other guests could easily spot them cuddling up but he could not help it. He needed to feel her, and he needed her to feel him.

“You have the right to be mad at me and hate me for what I’ve done, Talia.  You may never believe me, but I am truly sorry. I wish circumstances were different. I wish I were a better man and had had the strength to resist my thirst for you when we met at your father’s castle. But I wasn’t, and I am sorry for that, just as I am truly sorry for hurting you.” He bore his heart out on his sleeve. It felt like a stone had lodged itself in his throat, preventing the air to flow to his lungs. All he wanted was to kiss her, to hold her tight, to take her away from the ugliness of this world, and spend the rest of his life making love to her.

Talia gazed up at him with eyes filled with emotion. “I too am sorry, Petran,” she whispered. “But unlike you, I do not regret having met you, or having given myself to you. It was the most magical moments of my life. I am glad I experienced love and pleasure for many women live their lives doubting either truly exists. I regret, however, that you are sorry for having met me.”

Petran stared at her, completely lost for words. Holy Apa Dobrý.

She suddenly pulled away from his arms but not before he saw a fat tear roll down her cheek.  “My apologies, your majesty, I must return to my father,” she muttered and darted across the dance floor as fast as the other couples allowed her to pass through them.

Petran stood there, feeling numb. So many words crossed his mind, so many justifications—her room was under surveillance, he was the Vampire King, she was now Kalaur’s property—but none felt right. He was used to fallouts with his lovers, quarrels filled with
it’s not you, it’s me
, or
you deserve someone so much better than me
, but not this time. No other love quest had left him so…frozen. He did not know what it was, what the clench in his gut was, he just knew it hurt too much. Seeing that tear skate down Talia’s beautiful face, the face, which had brought so much ecstasy to his life in the short period since they had met, cut him in a way he had never experienced before. His guilt and his wounded ego were insignificant scratches in comparison to the hole in his heart, carved by one single teardrop rolling down her cheek. For the first time in his life, Petran did not feel like thrashing out or getting revenge by flirting openly in front of his ungrateful lover. He felt like crawling at her feet and begging for forgiveness.

But he did not do that, instead he just stood there, munching on his confused mind.

Chapter Twenty Nine

“What is the matter, my daughter?”

Talia stared at her father, trying hard to calm her heart. Her muddled up mind could not form a reasonable response, so she just gave him a light shrug as if to remark, “Nothing, why do you ask?” then poured herself a goblet of water.

“But you are shaking,” her father said with insistence.

“It’s nothing, Father. I haven’t waltzed in years and I’m afraid I’m not as fit as I used to be,” she lied, hoping her father would accept her lame excuse.

By Apa Dobrý, her heart was still racing, and the lump in her throat refused to budge. Seeing Petran tonight had been a harder blow than she had expected. She had tried to prepare her mind for this encounter, for seeing him once again and to be honest, after crying her eyes out in the gardens the night before she thought she had purged the Vampire King from her system.

But how wrong she had been.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the main door, her eyes had found him as if they knew exactly where to look. He was there, surrounded by his usual royal horde and his wife, Hillia, who looked like a goddess as usual. Talia had averted her eyes as much as she could muster, but the filthy traitors kept on pulling her back to him. Then the Hiad’s son decided to ask her to dance. Why had he done that? Was it just to waste her time with excuses about why he had abandoned her? Fair enough, she had noticed Kalaur’s guards following her around but if she had managed to lose them to get Zoricah’s plan underway, so could Petran. No, they were just excuses, and Talia refused to acknowledge them. Petran was a well-known seducer. He was probably just bored and wanted to ensure he still had her wrapped around his finger, in case the world was suddenly empty of virgins in the future.

Damn him!

Talia had to find a way of calming her heart. Her only solace was the fact that tonight marked the end of the Open Games and if she could help it, this would be the last time she set her eyes on the Vampire King.

A gong resounded throughout the room, quieting everyone, including the orchestra. “Lord Kalaur requests your illustrious presence at the pit.”

Talia held her breath.

This was it.
Crunch time.

She shook her head, and with it gone were any thoughts of Petran. Her friends’ lives were at stake now. There was no space in life for frugalities.

“Come, Father, I’ll help you walk out,” she offered.

“Thank you, my dear, but I have seen enough decapitations in my life. I’d rather retire to my chambers.”

Uh-oh.
“But the evening is so mild and your illness has kept you confined in your quarters for almost the entire time we have been here. Do you not wish to enjoy some fresh air?”

“I’ll enjoy it once I get better,” her father replied.

Damn the Soartas.
Talia could not leave the party just yet. Zoricah needed her to deploy a crucial part of the plan. She had to stay until the time was right.

Talia’s salvation came through an unexpected strike of luck.

“Your presence has been requested, milady,” the master of ceremonies said, coming to their side. “Lord Kalaur wishes to gift you with a surprise after the decapitation ceremony.”

Talia would have rolled her eyes at the prospect of receiving one more of Kalaur’s distasteful presents if it were not for the great excuse it provided her. “Well, in this case, I must stay.”

“Yes, yes, I can find my way back,” her father replied, already dismissing her.

“Would you organize an escort to take my father to his chambers, please?” she asked the master of ceremonies who promptly clicked his fingers calling for a page boy to carry out her request.

In no time, her father left the party with his new helper.

Good, now to the main attraction of the night.

Talia strolled out of the Glass Hall and discretely examined the inner curtain walls of the majestic castle. They were immense and very imposing. A flicker of movement caught her attention. She spotted the silhouette of a tall woman with flowing hair, running along the edge of the wall, then ducking out sight near the first tower. A wave of excitement mixed with fear washed over Talia—Zoricah had just placed herself into position.

Talia glanced toward the platform built in the middle of the inner ward. As per protocol, the stage was almost seven feet tall and five feet wide. But only Kalaur’s guards filled the empty space. There were no signs of a guillotine.

How strange.

But that could be a good omen. If the guillotine was still to be set up on stage, it meant they would have more time to deploy the plan.

When the time was right, Talia was going to pretend to faint calling Kalaur’s and everyone else’s attention. Z would then run out of hiding, rescue Ivan, Dimitri, and Grotzki, and then fly them out of there. At the same time, their army of rebels would invade the castle grounds by using a secret passage Z had found located under the chapel. How she had found it was still a mystery to them all, and a bit worrying to be honest, but that was Zoricah—full of mysteries yet she always made good on her word. She had proved to be as passionate about their cause as Ivan Milek was.

Talia hid behind a group of mer-people walking toward the main stage then ducked out of sight. She rushed through the side corridors, which ran along the entire compound, mindful that if anyone found her there she would have a hard time explaining herself.

Her eyes zoomed in on an old iron gate, which lead to the back of the chapel’s gardens. She glanced at the horde of guests making their way to the courtyard. There wouldn’t be much time to unlock the gate and dash back, so she had better get moving. Careful not to make a sound, she moved the old wine barrels out of the way and…looked blankly at the massive padlock locking the gate shut.

Oh dear.

She had not considered that little detail in her calculations.

There were no bolt cutters or screwdrivers in sight.

Talia glanced nervously back at the main stage, which stood a good fifty feet away. The first wave of guests had already placed themselves in front of the platform. Kalaur wanted her there with him therefore it wouldn’t be long before he began looking for her once he brought out the prisoners.

Right, no time for double guessing, girl.

She tucked her long sleeves under her elbows, held on to the rusted padlock and brought her dragon fire forth. She was not as skilled in this art as Z was, but she had ten years of boarding school to teach her a trick or two about breaking and entering.

At once, she felt her body light up with heat. It started at her core then flooded her every muscle. She closed her eyes and focused. In no time, the iron padlock turned red, and then started melting. It took only a flick of her wrist to break it open after that. Perfect. She finished unhooking it from the hinge, moved away any objects blocking the passage, and then rushed out of there.

“My royal friends and allies,” she heard Kalaur utter from the top of the platform as she sneaked into the first row of spectators. “I am much obliged by your kindness of having granted me a sliver of your attention in this festive evening.”

From the corner of her eyes, Talia spotted one of her kitchen servants bring out three horses. Just in time.

When she turned her focus back to the stage, she found Petran staring at her from the other side of the semi-circle of people. He narrowed his eyes at her and her insides did triple flips.

Did he know about their plan? Or worse, had he seen her open the gate?

If he were a normal vampire, there would not have been enough time for him to warn Kalaur but he was Petran, the only vampire who knew how to bend the castle’s magic and teleport at whim. A white pain crossed her heart with the thought.
He would not betray her in such a way, would he?

Of course, he would
, her mind cried out inside her head. She had cut him deep with her words not even an hour ago, and he was a proud vampire. A cold chill ran up her spine. If only she had kept her mouth shut, and had not antagonized him during their waltz.
Great move, Talia.

“I have vowed to bring peace to our world by capturing the rebels who terrorized our villages for so long,” Kalaur said, carrying on with his speech. “I also vowed to be the advocate of justice and guardian of fairness.”

Wait, wasn’t that her father’s vow?

A flicker of light blinded her for a moment.

The first signal.

She looked up and saw Zoricah crouch stealthily on the edge of the inner curtain wall. Her beautiful golden wings expanded in the dark night.

It was almost time for the real show to start. Talia could not wait to see Kalaur’s face when he saw how they out staged his great performance. 

“I know what your minds claim, my friends,” Kalaur said, lifting one hand up as if pain struck him. “How can one be fair in the face of pure evil? Despite the horrendous distress these rebels have imposed upon our families, we must abandon our own feelings in favor of justice. As a wise Roman draco once said, ‘in case of dissension, never dare to judge until you've heard the other side’. Well, I have heard the other side.”

Talia paused, the hairs on the back of her neck lifted in warning. What in Hiad was Kalaur talking about?

“I abandoned my own wounded heart and sought the rebels I have imprisoned. And in doing so, a surprising revelation was brought to my knowledge.”

Oh dear
.

“The man whom the rebels call leader, Mr. Ivan Milek, was nothing but a pawn in the hands of the true perpetrators of evil!”

What?
Talia’s jaw dropped, along with every other one in the courtyard.

“Yes, my illustrious friends,” Kalaur carried on. “I have uncovered the truth.” Kalaur waved his hand and a guard stepped onto the stage carrying Ivan along with him. There were no scars, no black eye, nor any other signs of torture on her friend’s body. “Mr. Milek wants nothing but to serve and protect our way of life. Tell them, Mr. Milek, tell them what you told me,” Kalaur ordered emphatically.

Ivan’s throat worked up and down then his cold gaze met Talia’s, and a chill ran up her spine.

Oh Merciful Soartas, no!

“Yes, it is true,” Ivan uttered evenly. “I have been a pawn crushed by the claws of the true rebel leaders. They threatened to kill my wife and my two sons if I did not do as I was told. They forced me to burn the villages and kill innocent people.”

Gasps and surprised murmurs echoed throughout the crowd. The royal guests were flabbergasted at the revelation, but not even the sum of them all would get close to how Talia felt. All she could think was why—why was Ivan saying these things?

“I too, my friends, was in shock,” Kalaur carried on, claiming the guests’ attention back to himself. “However, once again, I distanced myself from the emotions flooding my heart and did what every good and fair leader should do. I sought justice.”

At his final words, a latch opened in the middle of the platform, giving way to a tall guillotine, which ascended from underneath the stage.

Talia looked toward the iron gate by the church, and saw shadows coming through, the rebel army. Then her eyes darted to Zoricah, on top of the inner wall, also set to attack. Talia took a deep breath and prepared to perform her part in freeing their friends.

Unfortunately, that was not going to be necessary.

As the guillotine slowly rose to view, it revealed the most horrific sight. Two decapitated heads hung from the top of the tall device. Dark brown blood poured down into a puddle, turning the wooden stage crimson. Dimitri and Grotski, her dear friends were being offered to the crowd on a silver platter, almost literally. Their lifeless eyes were frozen in the last expression they had held—despair.

No!

Talia’s stomach churned, bile rose to her mouth. She gagged, trying hard to keep from throwing up. Her blurry eyes lifted to find Z leaning on the edge of the wall, also paralyzed by the gruesome show. The other rebels retreated immediately, confused by what they were witnessing.

Suddenly, Z straightened up, ready for an attack. Talia couldn’t see her face which was protected by the shadows, but going by her aggressive stance, it was clear Z was after blood.

Talia was too, but not now, not here. She couldn’t afford to lose any more friends tonight.

“No,” she mouthed in silence at her friend, pointing inconspicuously at the blathmac mages watching over from the towers. Even if her friend managed to get past them, the spell protecting the castle would prevent her from reaching the grounds.

Z seemed to have understood her signal because she buried her face in her hands, personifying how Talia felt.

It was over.

Dimitri and Grotski were dead, murdered by Kalaur’s guards and Ivan’s tongue. Their very own leader had deserted them, probably sold them in exchange for his head.
The bloody coward.

A deamon guarding the main gate started making his way toward Zoricah’s hiding place, as if sensing something was amiss on top of the inner curtain. Talia braced herself for the worst but as the guard reached the wall’s edge, Zoricah jumped out of sight and disappeared into the night.