Chapter One

 

PHILLIP

 

I do a slow circle of the room at the top of the tower, trying to keep my breathing calm and steady.

It’s hard. The only reason I’m managing is because of all the meditation I’ve done over the last century. Otherwise, I’d be going crazy.

I’ve never been to this part of Mother’s castle before. I’ve seen the tower’s angled spire, but it has always been off-limits.

For the first time, I understand why.

Silver. Hoards and hoards of silver, lining all the walls, piled as jewelry and cutlery on the ground, spilling out as coins and necklaces and rings from intricately-carved chests. Ancient suits of armor stand erect around me, made entirely of the accursed-metal.

The mere sight of the room would fill any vampire with dread. Being locked inside…?

It’s unimaginable.

I lose track of the safe path along the room and misplace a step. As soon as I do, enormous pain crashes into me, coming from all sides, coming almost as radioactive waves from the silver.

I cry out and, with extreme effort, pull myself back. The pain subsides. I’m okay—for now.

When Mother first imprisoned me by latching that silver collar around my neck, I thought she’d put me in a cell underground. I thought she’d keep me where we keep the prisoners awaiting trial—though with her at the helm, the trials had never been more than theatrical shams. If a vampire of The Haven did something to warrant being held prisoner, his fate was all but decided: he would become one of The Convicted. No matter what.

So in a way I was relieved when we emerged above ground. I wish I could say it was a surprise that she would hold me hostage… but Mother never hid her disdain for my choice to stop feeding on human blood. There was a time she was afraid the other vampires would see it as weakness pervading through the Soren family. She believed my decision could start a revolt.

That didn’t happen. I can thank James and Raul for that. My two older brothers were her bastions of strength, and with Mother leading, none would dare rise against her.

Except, of course, her cousin Rebecca. Yet Mother put a very effective stop to that by… by…

I can’t even think it.

I look around the room, at the gleaming metal reflecting the candlelight… and continue my careful path in that slow, precise circle.

Silver usually does not have this sort of radiating effect. In most cases, it’s simple: either the metal touches our skin, and it burns—or it does not.

But I’m sure Mother cast one of her spells on the items surrounding me so that just being in the room is near agony.

If I stood still it would drive me crazy. The reverberations through the air feel as jarring as jackhammers pounding at my temples. But by moving in the path I found, I manage to ease the worst of the silver’s effects on me.

Movement. Movement is essential to everything, movement is essential to life. As a vampire, I’ve watched as our coven has stagnated, because it’s been stuck within the protective wards surrounding The Haven.

It all stems from Mother. The other vampires of our royalty look to her for guidance and leadership. It’s part of the natural hierarchy. They see her growing restless, and they grow restless, too.

Abruptly the doors slam open. A gust of wind blows inside.

I jerk that way.

Mother stands on the threshold, the wind emanating from her and somehow taking the worst of the silver’s effects away.

I try to summon up hatred for her… but I cannot. That she would turn against me and Raul doesn’t strike me as a great surprise. She was desperate after having lost Eleira. Desperate people do desperate things.

Besides, it’s not so much hatred that swells through me, but… pity. Pity that she would be so power-hungry as to go to these extremes.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?” she asks, her voice a sing-song mockery of its usual self. The wind dies down, but the effects of the silver remain lessened. “I never understood you, Phillip. How you could be so calm, so complacent, so…”

“Peaceful?” I suggest.

She narrows her eyes. Both her hands go out to grip the sides of the doorway.

“Yes,” she admits grudgingly. “Peaceful.” She steps into the room, her elegant blue gown flowing around her legs as she walks. “It’s not in our nature to be peaceful, my sweet.”

The hairs on the back of my neck go up. She’s never addressed me using that term of endearment before. Raul, yes. James, sometimes. But never me.

“Come.” She holds out her hand. “I think you’ve spent enough time here. Don’t you?”

“You’re letting me go?”

She laughs. “You’re jumping the gun. Raul and Eleira have not returned yet.”

A nasty feeling rises in my throat. Enough time has passed for Raul to find Eleira. It feels like I’ve been here for days.

“Then where are we going?”

Morgan gives a coy smile. “You’ll see.”

I follow her down the long, icy hall of her castle. Empty canvases framed in gold hang on the walls.

They’re an eerie reminder of what she’s capable of.

Nothing—nothing—could be worse than severing a soul from its body. It’s a crime against nature. If the thought of feeding on human blood makes me ill, what Mother has done to every one of these vampires in the paintings… the way she did it… it makes me want to throw up.

We walk to a curling staircase leading down. Mother glances back at me. “You’re not stupid enough to try to run, are you?” Out of nowhere, that silver collar she’d flung around my neck appears in her hands. “Please tell me you’re not. You don’t know how it pains me to use this… device… against my own flesh and blood.”

“No,” I say stiffly. “I won’t run.”

“Good.” The collar disappears up her sleeve. “That makes me so happy.”

We descend the narrow stairs. At first I think we’re going to the ground floor. But then Mother takes me lower, deeper into the earth.

I begin to grow wary.

At the very bottom is a set of dungeon doors. Morgan shares a conspiratorial look with me. Then she opens them.

My heart sinks when I see what’s on the other side.

Patricia and Jacob are hanging limp from the walls. Silver gauntlets bind their wrists and ankles. Their heads droop low, but Patricia manages to look up—weakly—at our entrance.

Mother pulls the doors closed with a bang. The sound echoes through the dark, rocky chamber.

As soon as that happens I sense we’re not the only ones here. Sure enough, from behind a jagged column emerges an ensemble of the Queen’s personal guard.

There are six of them altogether. I scan the faces. Two of the six I know from before, but the other four are new. Their Commander, identified by the gold stitching on his black coat, is no one I’ve ever seen before inside The Haven.

“You’ve changed your guards,” I say. My mind searches for an explanation. Mother’s previous guards had been stable for decades. They had the utmost loyalty to her. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that,” Mother coos. “After all, it was you and Raul who started the fire in the village—along with these two accomplices.”

She casts an arm toward Patricia and Jacob.

“What does the first have to do with anything?” I ask.

“Well…” she taps her lips. “Four of my most trusted guards were found dead in the aftermath.” She turns to me. “They didn’t burn. They were murdered.”

A wave of shock passes through me.

Who would kill four vampires?

“These two,” Mother continues, walking closer to the husband and wife pair, “have proved surprisingly stubborn in admitting their guilt. But that’s not a problem. Because, down here, my word is law… and the law finds them guilty of murder!”

I give a strangled choke. “No!”

“Yes.” She looks like a puma glorying in the moments before the kill. “Patricia and Jacob have proven their unworthiness to remain part of our coven again and again. This final insult, it was too much.”

The hanging woman’s eyes roll up and meet mine. The despondent resignation in them breaks my heart.

I look at the guards again. They all have smug smiles on their faces. They know what’s going on. And I’m starting to suspect that I do, too.

Mother brought me here to witness an execution.

“You think they killed your guards?” I say. “Look at them! They barely had the strength to stand after you kept them prisoner and brought them to Eleira’s introduction ceremony. How could they have gone against four of The Haven’s most accomplished fighters?”

Mother gives a little laugh. “Oh, that’s the same story they’ve given me. It’s funny how such things align. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you three are colluding against me.” She glances at the ring of guards. “Wouldn’t you say, Smithson?”

The Commander instantly drops to one knee and holds a fist to his chest. “Yes, my Queen.”

Morgan strolls up to him and casually rakes a hand through his hair. “Oh, you’re most obedient now, aren’t you? Of course, that’s just how I like my companions.”

The commander glances up and meets her gaze for the briefest moment. There’s something more going on between them—I wouldn’t be surprised if Mother has already taken him to bed.

I don’t know if her promiscuity should repulse me or not.

“Why’d you bring me here?” I ask. I barely stand above Patricia and Jacob in terms of strength, but I try to channel some of Raul’s fortitude.

“I brought you here…” Mother turns to me, “to show what befalls vampires who oppose my rule.”

Everything happens at once.

She flings an arm toward me. That chained silver collar flies from her sleeve. I raise a hand to protect myself but it does little good. The collar simply binds it to my neck.

The force of the strike throws me back. All the air rushes from my lungs as I slam against the wall. Mother’s magic instantly pins me in place.

The guards surround the prisoners. They shove a strange looking sack over each of their heads. Patricia and Jacob start to convulse the instant the sacks are on.

Their bonds are released. They drop to the ground and jerk about with absolutely no control over their limbs.

“Hold them tight!” Mother commands.

Two guards grab either of the pair. Patricia and Jacob don’t so much fight the guards, as the guards fight them, doing as much as they can to keep the convulsions in check.

Mother gestures to Smithson. “Bring it now.”

The Commander rushes off into the depths of the cave and comes back carrying two empty canvases.

Exactly the same sort that I saw lining the hall.

Realization sinks in. “No!” I exclaim. I fight the silver collar with all my might. “No, Mother, don’t—“

“You dare call me that?” She turns on me, dressed in all the fury of a Queen. “I am your Monarch, and you will address me as such!”

She slaps me. My head snaps to the side, and my glasses go flying. Everything becomes an indistinct blur.

Jacob and Patricia keep convulsing on the ground. Smithson raises the two canvases onto hooks on the wall, right where the husband and wife pair were previously hanging.

Morgan towers over them. The way the shadows fall across her face make her all the more menacing.

“For the murder of four of your kind,” she declares, “I sentence you both to eternal suffering. The lives you stole will never be brought back. I would not do the same to you, but I will ensure that all the pleasures of this world are denied to you as you continue to linger, as trapped souls, for all eternity!”

Her voice gets louder and louder as she delivers the two sentences. A wind gusts up from the sides of the chamber and surges around her in a violent tornado. Her dress flaps this way and that. For the first time in my eyes, she looks like a real witch.

She pulls a silver dagger from her waist. The wind howls, ripping away my screams of protest.

Morgan raises the dagger above her head. She plunges it straight down into Jacob’s heart. Blood spurts out, but it’s caught by that wind and directed straight into one of the empty canvases. Mother chants an incantation, and the flow of blood is surrounded by a glowing blue light. It streams right into the frame, where slowly, the image of a wretched Jacob starts to form.

What little I make out without my glasses is ghastly. The Jacob in the painting is barely a skeleton. The muscles take shape over the bones of his skull. His eyes appear there, too, looking infinitely haunted. The barest layer of translucent skin starts to cover the red muscle fibers…

And then the flow from his body stops. I look at the shell that remains. It’s a horrible sight. Inside the painting, he starts to move, but then Mother utters another spell, and he goes still.

She stands and brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “One done,” she says. “Never to trouble me again.”

Her coterie of guards snickers.

She turns her attention to the woman. “My dear, you’re in luck,” she says. “You get a few more minutes on this earth while I recover my strength.”

I see it as my chance. If I can save Patricia… if I can make a difference…

“Morgan, you mustn’t do this!” I stop fighting the collar around my neck—it’s not like I can do anything against it. “Think of the consequences! You speak of killing vampires as the greatest crime—surely, this is worse! A soul is not meant to be separated from a body. Not while still remaining on this earth! Please, please, don’t mar your rule by doing something while lost in the grips of madness!”

She barely looks at me. “Madness?” She scoffs. “No, Phillip. This isn’t madness. Madness would be allowing the seed of rebellion to linger. You think I can turn a blind eye when four of my guards are dead? You think I can sit on my throne and do nothing while filthy vampires such as these seek to undermine everything I have? Everything that we’ve built?”

“You’re not listening to yourself!” I cry. “You feel their strength. You know Patricia’s never been powerful enough to challenge one of your personal guard. How would she or Jacob have killed them? Why would they kill them?”

“Because they’re filth,” she spits. “Because they were humiliated by my guards in front of the entire assembly. Because in the fires that you and my other son began, in the mayhem and confusion, they thought they could have their revenge! How they did it, I don’t know. I don’t care to know. Maybe they took them by surprise. Maybe—”

“Andrey would never have been taken by surprise.”

“SILENCE!” she screams. “Silence! Don’t you dare talk about Andrey. Never again—never again will you speak his name to me. Or else… or else…” she’s starting to sound hysterical now, “…or else you’ll end up in a painting on the castle wall, too!”

One of the new guards gasps. Mother turns on him in a blind rage.

“You don’t think it’s within my right to do?” she demands. “You don’t think that I have absolute rule in The Haven?”

“No, my Queen. You do, my Queen. Forgive me, my Queen.”

The apology seems to appease her. She takes a few deep breaths to compose herself.

Then she addresses me again in a sweet voice. “My son,” she says. She walks toward me. “My sweet, precious, youngest son. Don’t you know how hard it’s been for me to watch you toil away as a result of your… choice? Don’t you know how hard it’s been for me to see Raul and James rise up above you, when you were the one always gifted with such potential?” She touches my cheek.

I stare into her eyes, unflinching.

“You know what I speak of,” she tells me softly. “You were always the intelligent one. You sensed the same darkness inside you that I did when you were made. You knew it could overtake you, if you only let it, and you knew that its power would be unrivalled by any in our coven. You knew that had you embraced it, you would have risen in power, and, eventually, stood above even me.”

The silence in the cave is palpable. Each one of the guards is listening to his Queen with bated breath.

“Yes, Mother. I knew,” I say. That is my greatest secret—that I can become the strongest of all.

And now it’s out in the open.

“But you rejected it,” she says. “You rejected it, because of your love for me.” She wipes away a fake tear. “You did not want to challenge my rule. Why, then, do you do it now?”

“I made the choice for myself, not for you,” I tell her. “And yes, I loved you once, as a child loves either of his parents. But who you’ve become today is a far cry from the woman who raised me.”

She smiles in a cruel way. “You think your words hurt me.”

“I don’t resort to holding my sons hostage,” I challenge, “when things don’t go my way.”

She gives a flippant little laugh. Then she directs her gaze at Patricia, still being held on the floor.

“You want to save her?” she asks. “You can. I’ll tell you how.” She leans in, and whispers in my ear, “Feed. Feed, and embrace who you are meant to be.”

She turns away and clasps her hands. “Bring her,” she tells Smithson.

The Commander immediately retreats into the far reaches of the cavern. I hear a door open. And right away comes the fresh scent of human blood.

Smithson pushes a girl into our midst. She’s bound, gagged, and blindfolded.

It’s April.

“I’ll leave you alone with her,” Mother says. She releases the collar around my neck. I stagger down. “Feed, and I’ll spare the vampire’s life. We both know that it’s much more valuable than that of a human’s.”

On that note, Mother walks out the door, trailed by her guards. They drag Patricia with them.

April is shaking. She’s in very rough shape. I can’t imagine the horrors my Mother must have inflicted upon her.

“You wouldn’t,” she whispers. “Would you?”