Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (38 page)

Chapter Forty One

“I assure you, my friend. I tried my best to save her, to stop the daemons from dragging her out but they had discovered the one thing, which could immobilize me utterly and completely, and no, it wasn’t the silver chains ripping through my skin.

I once told you love was for the weak and a warrior in love was a feeble one, did I not? Well, my story only comes to show that this is the absolute truth, my friend. Even though I was losing blood at a rapid rate, I only had Talia’s safety at heart. I had one last card in my hands, one last hope which might save her life, for I knew, mine was already lost…”

Tardieh turned the page over looking for the end of the story, but found none. The narration ended at an odd spot, as if there had been an extra page but it was no longer there.

“Argh! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Utterly confused and frustrated, he rummaged through Arthur’s old chest for the remaining page, or possibly pages, only to get even more exasperated when he found only useless memorabilia.

This was impossible! Where was the last page? He knew on that same night he had found his father’s lifeless body in that very chamber—decapitated. Soon after, Arthur had reached him and dragged him out of the castle as the divine flames consumed it all. They fled to America, leaving everything behind. Just like his father had predicted, Arthur became his guardian and helped him seek refuge with the local vampire aristocracy, and eventually rise as their king.

He read the last sentences again, “I was losing blood at a rapid rate, I only had Talia’s safety at heart. I had one last card in my hands, one last hope which might save her life, for I knew, mine was already lost ….”

That was not how his father had died. Yerik’s sword would have definitely rendered him paralyzed, but it wouldn’t have been lethal. Vampires could only lose their lives by decapitation or by the fire, hence their ceaseless care against their biggest enemy, the sun. The wound to Petran’s midsection had not been the fatal blow as that last paragraph implied. His father had been decapitated. Tardieh had found the body himself, hanging off a chandelier. His lifeless head lay out on a silver tray on top of the mantel, like a bloody trophy.

Which brought him to one conclusion—this letter was not complete. Someone had removed the last pages.

“Tardieh?” Zoricah called from the door.

He turned around unable to mask the frustration in his face.

“What happened? You’ve been here the whole night long.”

“I was…I found this,” he answered, showing her the letter in his hands.

Zoricah walked into the room and took what he offered. Her eyes went wide as understanding dawned on her as to what she was holding. “Oh Mighty Soartas, Tardieh, what is this?”

“Apparently, it’s my father’s last letter to Arthur. I found it in this junk, together with all these other pieces of memorabilia from my family.”

“But I thought all had been burned in the fire,” she said, mirroring the confusion he felt.

“Exactly,” he breathed out then took a seat on the bed. His wife sat next to him, already devouring the contents on the yellowed pages.

“This is unbelievable,” she exhaled.

“And that’s not the worst of it. Apparently, my own mother orchestrated the entire war. She was the one who ordered the attack against my father, selling herself to Kalaur, and using myself as a bargaining tool.” He lifted his mother’s royal ring again, remembering how Kalaur never got the chance to deploy his mother’s horrible plan. His brow wrinkled when he remembered yet another part of the letter. “You never told me you had met my father.”

Z tore her startled eyes from the words in front of her and gazed at him. “Well, it wasn’t the most amicable of encounters,” she answered with a shrug. “And before today, I never thought it really made any difference.”

“It doesn’t...” he replied, but then again, perhaps it did. The thought that his father had gone out of his way to find him and rescue him was somewhat comforting in a sad way.

There were so many questions reeling in his head. What had been Natalia’s end? Had she died on the guillotine? What about Ivan Milek, was he still alive? Tardieh hoped his father’s blow had done the deal before the Sultan claimed his head.

“Oh bloody Hiad,” Zoricah suddenly cried out, flipping the pages front and back. “Where’s the last page?”

Her exclamation echoing his very words brought a bitter chuckle to his lips. “Yep, I know how you feel.”

“So, where is it?”

“I have no idea. I’ve searched everywhere and nothing. It simply disappeared.”

“But this letter definitely doesn’t end here,” she added.

“I noted that too.” Something crossed his mind as the words came out. “Do you think Arthur would have thrown it away?”

“Why would he do that? If he didn’t want you to read this, he would have burned the whole letter not just the last page.”

She was right, but… “My father clearly states that he wanted me never to know what my mother had done, and maybe that was why Arthur was probably compelled to keep this letter a secret. But what if he had planned on revealing it to me one day?”

“You mean, tell you the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Like on his death bed or something.”

“Yep.”

“That would be so much like Arthur,” Z agreed with a chuckle. “But the question is, what was on that last page that he didn’t want you ever to know?”

A deep crease wrinkled Tardieh’s brow. What was on it indeed. Had Arthur had anything to do with the treachery his mother created? He had been left in the castle filled with dracos and daemons after all. His father might have found him out and could have written this letter to let Arthur know that he knew.

“That wouldn’t make sense,” Z replied, making Tardieh realize that, just like his father had done in the past, he was speaking out loud without noticing. The thought tickled his heart, as if the realization of how he was more like his father than he believed, somehow brought them closer.

“And there’s also a weird time lapse in this letter,” she added. “You told me that you found your father’s body that very evening, after I rescued you.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And according to these last paragraphs, he was about to be taken to Sultan Osman. He wouldn’t have been able to break the chain, write a letter, and then succumb to decapitation. It’s not like he could have said…
Hey guys, before you chop my head off, can I just finish this letter to my chamberlain, please
?”

His out-of-place humor made his wife laugh, and he joined her. For a moment anyway.

He exhaled a long breath and ran his hand through his black hair. Silence descended in the room, while the many unspoken questions continued to hang over them.

“What if Arthur rescued more than just these pieces of memorabilia?” Zoricah suggested, breaking the heavy quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe he hid the last page somewhere else, together with other stuff. I mean, this letter is pretty significant. I can’t imagine Arthur simply disposing of pages.”

“Yeah, he would have kept them,” Tardieh agreed.

“I think I read something about your father’s exile being in a warm place, where there was a bird with a cackle like a woman’s…”

“Here…” he replied, showing her the very page where the description was.

“I’ve seen these birds before. They’re called kookaburras and they’re from Australia.” She paused. “Wasn’t Sydney called The British Colony of New South Wales when the Brits took over that part of the world?”

“Yes, it was,” Tardieh replied, unable to hide his renewed enthusiasm. “I think I know where that house is. Father never knew it but I used to go there often, to…err…” He let his voice trail off when he saw Zoricah’s raised eyebrow.

“To…err…what, my love?” she asked narrowing her beautiful golden eyes at him.  “Or should I ask
with whom
?”

“I had my past, as you had yours, my love. Let’s not go there,” he replied giving her a peck on the lips, and hoping she would truly drop the subject because if they ever got into a fight over this, he would lose royally.

She smirked at him, as if she knew what he was doing, but let it go. Thank Apa Dobrý. “What time is it now in Australia?

The corner of his lips curved up into a crooked smile. “The sun would have definitely set by now.”

**********

The famous Opera House appeared in front of them as Tardieh materialized in Sydney. He had been to Australia many times as a young lad. Australians were very welcoming, especially to young and single men like he had been. But those days had been a lifetime ago, before his kidnapping, before his family’s tragic death. After he had fled to America with Arthur, Tardieh had never returned to these parts of the world. It was almost as if Australia reminded him of the prince he no longer was, the playboy who had died with his father on that fateful night.

“Come,” he said, taking Zoricah’s hand in his. “I know a short cut to the house.”

“I’m sure you do,” she replied, lifting her eyebrow at him again.

Not wanting to give her any more rope, he made no comment, and simply picked up the pace. His father’s manor had been on the north side of the harbor, and before the famous Harbor Bridge had been built the only way of reaching it was by boat or a long horse journey around the entire bay—or teleporting, of course.

“In the letter, my father said Natalia had walked past the village and through a jungle. Now, this jungle is called Neutral Bay.”

“It’s beautiful,” Zoricah breathed, obviously mesmerized by the amazing skyline of leafy trees intermingled with the high-rises and the bay.

After just a few minutes, they reached the banks of a shallow river.

“Gray rocks which seem to sparkle under the moonlight,” his wife muttered, repeating the words from the letter.

“Yes, we are close,” Tardieh replied. “Look.”

A house stood on the other side of creek. It was modest with two stories, narrow windows and a wide veranda. Modern lights hung from the tall fence, which had not been there when Tardieh last came this way.

He wondered if Arthur had built a fence around the property. Or, had he sold it off?

“I think there’s someone in there,” Zoricah whispered with a frown. “Are you sure this is the one?”

Tardieh nodded unable to voice his own confusion. He had expected an abandoned house, or at least an empty one. “Let’s take a closer look. I need to know what in Hiad is going on here.”

Careful not to raise any alarms, they jumped over the fence and ducked low. No dogs came barking but as soon as their feet landed on the front lawn, light flooded the porch.

Oh, crap.
Tardieh rushed to hide behind a bed of flowers, which were perfectly trimmed, he noted. Someone was definitely living in the house. His father’s house.

Anger churned his gut as the need to find his former butler and give him an ear full overwhelmed him. How had Arthur dared to sell his father’s house without his permission? How had he dared keep this monstrosity of a secret away from him for so many years?

“Psst, Tardieh,” Zoricah whispered loudly from another flower bush, while pointing at one of the narrow windows on the top floor.

The profile of a tall man appeared against the glass. It was dark inside, and the person was probably thinking he was safely hidden in the shadows, but Tardieh’s vampire eyes had clearly spotted him. The man seemed to be searching for something outside...in the front garden. He had heard them, somehow.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mouthed to Zoricah.

The clicking of a riffle being cocked ready echoed in the night. “Put your hands in the air and come out of there before I blow your sorry asses to pieces.”

Oh shit.

The order came to them as a surprise, not so because it was a warning but because it was a woman who had uttered it, and not a man.

“I come in peace. I don’t want any trouble, ma’am,” Tardieh replied, trying to fake a boy’s voice as much as he could.

“I have no patience for vandals or druggies. Now come out and piss off.”

Damn the Soartas.
He’d have to come out of the bushes and attack the lady. There was no other choice. He glanced across to Zoricah, and her determined gaze confirmed she had come to the same conclusion.

“One, two, three,” he counted silently with her, then jumped out of the bed of flowers and tackled the woman to the ground. He was careful not to use too much pressure and hurt the lady. After all, she could be an unsuspecting human.

“Argh!” The woman grunted as the rifle flew into the air without ringing the shot inside the barrel.

Nonetheless, Petran went for the woman’s jugular. He had to paralyze her before she did something stup—

“Tardieh, stop!” Zoricah shouted, freezing him on the spot.

Lifting his head, he finally realized why his wife had uttered the desperate plea. He gazed at the woman lying beneath him and his breath caught in his throat. “Natalia?”

Tardieh could not believe his eyes.