Court of the Vampire Queen: Part 3 – Chapter 44

I don’t know why it still stings to be reminded that I’m not human, vampire, or dhampir. I’m something else, something rare and dangerous and unknown. “I’m aware.”

Rylan sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He tugs me closer as Malachi offers a forearm to Wolf. Wolf bites quickly and drinks deep. Within a few minutes, he’s looking more like himself again. Relief makes me a little woozy. We’ve exchanged blood before—all of us. It’s never been truly dangerous, not like it appears to be now.

No. That’s not true. From the moment I met Malachi, and then the others, they’ve been dangerous to me. One bite taken too far could end my life. It’s something none of us have really spoken at great lengths about, but we’ve all been aware of it. This is different.

I’ve never been dangerous to them.

When Wolf finally sits back, Malachi levels a look at me. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to discuss our next step with Cornelius.”

I start to argue that we need to talk about it now, but his rationale makes sense. If we don’t survive the fight with my father, it won’t matter that I’m dangerous to them, because we’ll all be captive or dead. What a cheerful thought.

Rylan huffs out a breath. “Why don’t we start with where we are? Did you figure out the state or the town, at least?”

“Still Montana. Best I can tell, it’s the next town over from the compound.”

“Azazel didn’t take us far.” Wolf shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips. “That wily bastard.”

Malachi nods. “We won’t fly under the radar for long. We have to move while Cornelius is still scrambling to search for us.”

Every time he says my father’s name, I have to fight back a flinch. He’s no demon to be summoned by speaking his name, but I can’t shake the strangely superstitious feeling that we shouldn’t say it. I swallow past my fear. “Even if I kill him publicly, what’s to stop my siblings from finishing what he started? They’ve all had their powers for years at this point. I won’t win in an endless string of duels.” Our plan had seemed so reasonable—if a long shot—when we put it together on the run after escaping Malachi’s house. My time with Grace poking holes in it has only made me doubt myself. My father is powerful. He stopped Rylan, who is a bloodline vampire who can change his entire form, with a single word.

Seraph or no, my father can compel me to do whatever the hell he wants if he gets a chance to speak.

“It has to be public. Witnesses. You have to take control of the entire compound with one shot by killing him by doing it bloody enough that they won’t challenge you. He’s already primed them to fall in line when faced with a strong leader. We just have to convince them that you’re that strong leader.”

I give Malachi the look that statement deserves. Most of my siblings considered me beneath their notice while I was growing up, and I preferred it that way—fewer people who wanted to kick me when I was down. That might have benefited me growing up, but it hardly primed them to follow me as a leader. “The only chance we have is an attack he doesn’t see coming. He needs to be dead before he’s able to use his magic. If he gets one word out, we lose. How are we supposed to manage that in public?” Otherwise, we’re delivering ourselves right into his hands.

“I don’t know yet.”

I can’t stop my bitter laugh. “Isn’t that rather crucial to the plan?” It’s not fair to take my frustration out on Malachi. He didn’t exactly choose to be held captive by my father for over a hundred years, or to be bonded to a seraph when the attempt to gain freedom came with more strings than any of us expected. He needs my father dead just as much as I do.

“Ear plugs?”

I’m already shaking my head at Rylan’s suggestion. “A few years ago, one of his subordinates tried it. His magic might not work well over electronics or long distances, but normal means of muffling sound doesn’t seem to have an effect.” Logically, they should, but magic likes to play by its own rules.

“It was worth a suggestion.” Rylan gives my shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We keep saying that, but no brilliant ideas have come.” I’m not being fair and I know it, but I can’t stop. I shrug out from under Rylan’s arm. “I’m going to wash the blood off.” I hold up a hand when all three of them tense. “Alone. I need to think.”

It’s only when I step beneath the water nearly hot enough to scald that my brain starts working properly. I close my eyes and let the worries and mental knots unwind. The men are here. That’s already a huge victory, and one that shouldn’t have been possible if my father had his way. He’ll have paraded them before the compound the way he always did in the past with his conquests. Losing them is a blow. Being the one to steal them away is a power play that will help establish me as a leader if I manage to kill him.

What they’re asking for feels impossible, but they don’t have the same history with him that I do. No matter how hard I fight it, my father remains larger than life in my mind. The same isn’t true for my men. I need to stop letting my fear control me and listen.

By the time I finish my shower, I feel halfway human again. I smile a little at the irony. I might feel halfway human, but I’m not human at all. There has to be some way I can use that. If the seraphim were so feared as a whole, there has to be a reason why. Surely it’s not just because when they have sex with vampires, they can bond with them. There must be more.

There has to be.

The men aren’t in the bedroom, which is just as well. We ruined another bed. I stare at the bloodstains and grimace. Someday, when this is all over and we’ve settled somewhere, we’re going to have to invest in plastic sheets on the bed we have sex in and have a strict no-biting rule in the bed we sleep in. I shake my head and pull on a dress from the closet. Like the fridge, it was fully stocked when I arrived. Once dressed, I follow the faint tug of the bond downstairs to the kitchen.

They all look up as I descend the stairs, their expressions varying degrees of wary. Malachi is the one that approaches me. He’s always the one who takes that first step, and I’ll love him forever because of it.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m scared, but that’s no excuse. You’re trying to help.”

Malachi takes my hand and tugs me down the last stair and into his arms. “It’s nothing. A few sharp words are hardly enough to require forgiveness.”

“Still.”

He chuckles. “You’re forgiven, little dhampir.” After one last squeeze, he sets me back. “Shall we feed you?”

Instantly, my mouth waters at the thought of more blood, but he turns to the fridge and that feeling sours. I shake my head. “No. I’m good. I’m not hungry.” In fact, I feel the opposite of hungry. I want to fling myself away from the fridge and what it contains.

Malachi frowns. “When did you last eat?”

I start to say this morning, but that’s not true. No matter how good it felt to drink Wolf’s blood—and Malachi’s last night—it doesn’t change the fact that it’s not eating. I touch my stomach. “I’m not hungry,” I repeat. When all three of their attention sharpens on me, I sigh. “I ate… Um.” I can’t remember. I haven’t eaten since the demon deal, I don’t think. Maybe the morning after? I vaguely remember being sick. “A day or two.”

“Malachi.” Rylan says into the silence after my answer. “This isn’t outside the realm of possibility. We discussed this. We don’t eat. The…baby…is half ours.”

“Mina is not a vampire.” Malachi speaks softly but he might as well have yelled. “She is not going to be harmed by this pregnancy.”

Irritation flares. “For the last goddamned time, I am standing right here.” I march past him. “I feel fine, so we’re going to chalk this up to some combination of pregnancy, magic, and my strange bloodlines. We have bigger things to focus on. If, at the end of this, we’re all left standing, then you can worry and pester me about the pregnancy. First, we need to deal with my father.”

Rylan looks like he wants to argue, and I can’t see Malachi from my current position but I can feel his displeasure like a flame at my back. Wolf, of course, seems as relaxed as ever. He grins, flashing fangs. “I take it your shower helped.”

I nod. “My father has to be our priority. The rest of it can wait. I don’t know how we’re going to get onto the compound, let alone take him out, but you’re right. It’s our only option, and we need to do it quickly.” I clear my throat and sink down onto the chair next to Wolf. “I’m not going to pretend I have a brilliant plan, but I’m done running.” I place the map of the compound I drew for Grace on the center of the table.

It feels strange and a little uncomfortable to sit like this, all of us around the table, but better the table between us so no magic goes funky and we end up having sex for the next three days. I would love to be able to do that, but the longer we wait, the higher the chance my father finds us. I don’t think there’s anything magical about this house. It’s location of being out of the way and entirely unconnected to any of the vampires is enough to keep us off the radar for a few days, but it won’t last forever.

We have to move now. The sooner the better. The vampires disappearing will have disconcerted my father and he’ll be desperate to reclaim them. It’s likely not enough to make him sloppy, but it’s better than nothing.

At least we’re not reacting this time. He is. That has to count for something. We have to make it count for something.

I quickly update them on the information that Grace passed on. From Grace’s information, it seems like not much has changed since I left, aside from increased patrols, and why would it? My father doesn’t see me as a threat. He’s not going to alter his world because I might be gunning for him.

It’s a mistake I hope we can exploit.

“I would wager none of the soldiers he has onsite are powerful enough to be more than a slight inconvenience for you.” I point to a spot just south of the main gate. “This is where Grace spent most of her time scouting the place. Because the compound is tucked into a canyon, there are vantage points here, here and here.” I touch each place with a finger.

Malachi takes the pen from me and marks them with a small X. “That will help.”

“If you say so.” The idea of storming the base with the men is world’s different than storming the base with just Grace. We should be able to get all the way to the heart of the compound without anyone stopping us.

But that’s where it stops being easy.

I stare at the drawing, searching it for anything I’ve missed. It’s as detailed as I can remember, with a few edits from Grace. “The biggest issue is my father’s power.”

“Yeah. About that.” Wolf’s pale blue gaze goes contemplative. “He has to speak to use it, right?”

“Yes. He can glamour and the like without speaking, I think. But to use his commands, he has to speak them.” I turn to him. “But how do you keep him from speaking?”

Rylan drums his fingers on the table. “Injury would be the easiest way. It won’t stick long, not with how old and powerful he is, but even he would take a few seconds to heal a crushed larynx. Maybe up to a minute if someone tears out his throat.”

I know my father is powerful, of course. I was raised under his thumb, and I’ve seen what he does to those less powerful than him. In that compound, everyone is less powerful than he is. Still, it feels particularly worrisome to have these vampires admit he’s a formidable foe. It’s not new information, but it still sends a shiver down my spine. “We still have to get close to him to do either of those things.”

“Maybe.” Malachi sits back, his chair groaning beneath him. “When’s the last time you did a ranged attack, Wolf?”

Wolf shrugs, but it’s nowhere near the careless body language he normally has. Tension bleeds from him through the bond, winding tighter and tighter. “I haven’t had reason to. I’m out of practice.”

Malachi hesitates, glances at me, and then sighs. “We should call in your sister.” He holds up a hand when Wolf tenses. “I know it’s not an ideal situation, but you can’t diagnose issues with your blood the way she can. And she’s a better ranged attacker than you are by a long shot.”

“My sister poisons blood.” Something almost fearful edges into Wolf’s voice. “You’re out of your damn mind, Mal. She’s as likely to kill Mina as she is to help with anything. There’s a reason I haven’t seen her in fifty years.” He glances at me. “You think I’m a loose cannon? My sister is worse.”

He said something to the same effect last night. I’d felt something akin to pity then, but now I don’t know what to think. I look between them, taking in their very serious expressions. “It seems like a long shot with greater risk than rewards.”

“Mal’s right,” Rylan says reluctantly. “Lizzie could shoot Cornelius from a mile away and he’d never see the attack coming. It would give us the opportunity to take him out while he can’t speak. He’s still going to be able to fight, but at least he won’t be able to compel.”

Wolf’s distress flares so brightly, I reach over and cover his hand with mine. He’s shaking, just a little, fine tremors that send a surge of fierce protectiveness through me. I look at the other two men. “We’re not doing it if Wolf isn’t okay with it. It’s easy for you to say things will work out and this won’t backfire, but it’s his family.” His family that makes this mad vampire look well-adjusted. I don’t know what to think of that. All I know is that I don’t want any of my men harmed.

What are the chances of all of us making it out alive?

I don’t have an answer for that question.

No one at the table does.