Chapter Sixteen
The hare roasting on the spit was nearly done by Nikolai’s sense of smell. The sky teetered between day and night, a pale glow softening the eastern edge. Sienna had sat quietly, saying little since they’d stopped to rest. She nibbled absently on the bread he’d found packed in her saddlebag with a dazed expression fixed on the fire.
He took the tin plate he’d also found in the saddlebag and pulled some of the meat off the bone and passed it to her before resuming his position with his back to the tree, arms crossed, facing the trail in the near distance.
“That doesn’t burn your fingers?” she asked, then blew on the rabbit meat, still steaming.
“No.”
“Why doesn’t a vampire feel hot and cold?”
“How do you mean?”
“You never wear gloves or seem affected by the extreme cold as I am. And you put your fingers over that red-hot fire. I can’t even touch the rabbit right now, it’s so hot.”
“We feel hot and cold. Just not like humans. Or I should say, it doesn’t hurt as much.”
“Seems odd to me.”
She finally fingered a bite of food into her mouth, and for some reason, that relaxed some of the tension stiffening Nikolai’s shoulders.
“How so?”
She took a second to swallow. “Well, most of your senses are heightened, right? Sight, sound, smell. What of the others?”
She had his attention then. “All of our senses are heightened, including touch and taste.”
She gulped, drawing his gaze to her slender throat. The prick of his fangs reminded him how wonderful she tasted.
“I see,” she said, setting her near-empty plate to the side and wiping her hands on a handkerchief. “Then why don’t you feel the cold and heat as humans do?”
He shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure. It’s always been so for vampires. I’d say it’s part of our genes’ resistance to mortality. But how it happens? I don’t know. We feel cold. And heat. But our skin is simply more…durable, I suppose is the best word.”
“Hmm.” She stood and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. “We’d best be getting on to Dale’s Peak. How much farther do you think?”
She ambled over to where Astrophel and Ramiel were munching on a bag of oats he’d set on the ground for them to share. This, too, had been stored in his saddlebag. Friedrich, or perhaps Grant, had thought of everything.
“Are you worried about returning to Dale’s Peak?” he asked, stomping out the small fire with his boot.
He wrapped a portion of the rabbit in a kerchief of his own, knowing they’d need to make one more stop before they reached the town. He threw the rest away in the woods for the beasts of the wild.
“No.” She stroked Astrophel’s neck while the horse continued to munch on the oats. “As I said before, my mother and her new husband moved away years ago.”
“But the memories are still there.” He stashed the bit of rabbit in his saddlebag for her later and cinched it tight, then moved around Astrophel to her.
“Yes. But they don’t haunt me as I suppose they should.”
“How do you mean?” He gripped the horn of Astrophel’s saddle and angled toward Sienna.
She stroked underneath Astrophel’s pale blond mane, then glanced up at him. “I suppose there’s something wrong with me, but I never fit in at the home of my birth. I was raised by a strict nurse who never showed affection.” She continued to stroke Astrophel. “I only ever saw my mother for formal occasions or when she demanded I sit with her at tea to receive suitors. You know, I don’t recall us ever even touching one another?” She frowned up at him, seeming to recall the shock of it. “Not once.”
Nikolai tried to imagine this beautiful young girl raised in such cold isolation. Never receiving a gentle embrace at the end of the day. His own mother had been a nurturing woman. His memories were vivid—the gentle sweep of her hand across his brow, combing back an unruly lock of hair, the melody of her voice when she sang a lullaby. Her death in childbirth with his stillborn sister was keenly felt by him and his father. But they clung to one another in their grief, forging a tight father-and-son bond. He wondered what his father would think of his red-haired beauty. Actually, he knew quite well what he would think of her, the old bastard.
“What of your father?”
Sienna gave a sad little laugh. “My father was kind to me. But he died when I was young, leaving me in my mother’s care. And she was more interested in the alliance a good match would bring her. I was certainly her greatest disappointment when I fled to live with Grandmother.”
Nikolai’s jaw tightened at the mention of her being sold off into marriage. He finally hit the reason for her absconding from wealth and luxury to confinement in the dark woods of Silvane Forest. A subject she seemed to tiptoe around.
“And so you did not favor the match your mother had made for you.” A statement. Not a question. He wouldn’t let her wiggle out of this before he had answers. Not this time.
Her hand stilled for a brief moment, then she began combing her fingers through Astrophel’s mane, her long, delicate fingers untangling the mass. “No,” she said quietly. “I was not in favor.”
“What was this man like?”
“Rich. Handsome. Sophisticated. And arrogant. Cold. Brutal.”
Nikolai stopped her hand by taking it in his own, gently rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. She watched the gesture rather than meet his gaze.
“Did he ever hurt you?” His question was soft, but the timbre of his voice rolled with menace.
“No.” An immediate reply. And an honest one from what he could sense of her steady heartbeat. “I saw how he treated his servants. Once, on one of our weekly visits, there were Legionnaires staying in his home. I heard him speaking to them in the corridor as I waited in the parlor. The Legionnaires complained that they were thirsty. For blood. He told them to take two of the maids and do as they pleased.” She paused and cast him a pitiable look. “You see, it’s not just the vampires that the working class must fear. He is one of many humans loyal to the crown. Anyway, I couldn’t help those poor maids, even if I had married him. The only thing I could think to do was…run.”
“And so you did run. Into the woods where your grandmother lived.”
“Yes,” she answered with pride and a tilted smile. “I could never abide cruelty. The nurse always said I was too sensitive and should know my station. And that I gave too much time to the feeble animals in the barnyard than I did my lessons. She scolded me once for giving cream every morning to a stray kitten in the yard, saying I was being wasteful giving good cream to a creature on the verge of death. That the sickly kitten was too far gone and couldn’t be saved.”
“And did the kitten live?”
“No,” she replied, voice wavering. “She was too small and too sick like she’d said. But I nursed the little gray creature for two weeks, hoping for the best.”
Nikolai imagined little Sienna sitting in the barnyard and feeding the kitten, offering it compassion when no one else would. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips to the underside of her fingers, then clasped her hand against his chest. “It is in your nature to help those who cannot help themselves. That is not cruel. That is the greatest kindness.”
“Even when the poor creature has no chance of life?”
“Especially then. You gave that creature two weeks of compassion and care. That is mercy.” He brushed a loose curl of hair at her temple, then wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck, drawing her close. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Yes, your outward beauty is a bright beacon all men covet and most assuredly many less confident women despise. But they are all fools.” He trailed his hand, flattening his palm over her heart. “For it is the beauty that lies in here that would be the envy of the world. If they could see what I see.”
She pressed both her hands over his, her bosom rising and falling on a deep breath, her green eyes bright with tears, and a sweet smile she seemed to hold only for him. “I have no words for that, Nikolai,” she said on a little laugh. “I always thought myself wicked for my selfish love of animals over mankind. Over my mother and my nurse. Animals weren’t cruel or heartless like the humans I’d known. I always thought, maybe I am the witch they proclaim me to be.”
He smiled, leaning down to sweep his lips across hers. “You have certainly bewitched me.” He pried her lips open gently, just enough to stroke his tongue against hers and taste the sweet divinity that was Sienna. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her palm before stepping away on a heavy sigh. No time for indulgence now.
“Get your gloves on, sweetheart, and saddle up. I want to get Dale’s Peak behind us.”
After a moment’s pause, she snapped to and reached for Astrophel’s reins. “And what then?”
“You know what then.” He wrapped up what was left of the oats, stashed them away, and buckled the saddlebag. After launching himself into the saddle, he arched a brow at her. “Cutters Cove.”
She shook her head and saddled up astride, then pulled on her gloves she’d tucked under the saddle by the horn. “Nikolai, I’ve told you. Once this is over, I’m returning to my cottage in Silvane Forest. My heart aches that I’ve been gone this long.”
“Well, then let’s skip Dale’s Peak and head straight there.” He clicked to Ramiel and veered through the trees toward the path. “A good month’s rest for the two of us in your cottage before we sail for Cutters Cove would do us both some good.”
“Ha! First of all, we’re not skipping Dale’s Peak. We need the recruits. And I doubt seriously the two of us would do much resting holed up in my cottage for a month. You are a devil, lieutenant.”
He captured her gaze, knowing full well the smoldering look he gave her was what put the sudden blush in her cheeks. “You have no idea, my sweet. But I plan to show you.”
…
It was mid-morning when they reached the Bluestone Mountain Range. Snow-capped peaks in the far distance guided them toward their destination. Winding through the foothills, Nikolai stopped at a gurgling brook and let Ramiel drink. Sienna stopped beside him and did the same. He caught her staring at the mountainous horizon.
“Is it beginning to feel familiar?”
“Yes.” She flashed him a smile, once more reminding him how weak he was where this woman was concerned. “Though my home is now in Silvane Forest, I have missed these lovely mountains. I always did love them.”
Nikolai nudged Ramiel forward. He took the lead across the shallow brook, wanting to be sure there were no loose rocks that might make Astrophel stumble. The icy water sloshed, a drop hitting his hand.
Sienna squealed. He whirled around in his saddle to find her grinning and sitting with her knees drawn up. “It’s cold,” she laughed. “Some splashed my leg.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, he clicked to Ramiel to climb up the small embankment. He did with ease. As did Astrophel. The path forked, one road leading down through the trees, the other crossed an open prairie.
“Both of these roads lead to Dale’s Peak. We’ll take the northerly route to use the cover of trees. It’s a bit rockier but we—”
He stopped on an instant. That smell. And there was the faint sound that often accompanied such an odor.
“What is it, Nikolai?”
He jerked his head to the left, the direction of the northerly path through the woods. He narrowed his gaze over the treetops, finding the plumes of smoke he sought.
“You’re scaring me. What do you see?”
Ramiel whinnied, as if he too could hear and smell death nearby.
“Come. Swiftly,” he ordered and heeled Ramiel into a gallop down the lane.
At the first break in the tree line, he pulled his steed to a halt. He pointed into the trees and glanced to be sure she was right behind him. She was. Venturing off track, he led Ramiel down an incline into a small gully, protected on both sides with dense brush, even in the dead of winter when leaves were scarce. He leapt from his mount and tethered Ramiel to the nearest elm.
He pulled Sienna down and set her roughly on her feet. “I need you to stay here and stay quiet.”
“What!” She grabbed hold of his forearms, his hands still gripping her waist. “You’re not leaving me here.”
“Not for long. I need to go and see what this is.”
“What what is? I don’t see or hear anything at all.”
“It’s too far away for you to. I won’t be long.”
“No.” She clung to his arms. “Please. Take me with you.”
He gripped her by the upper arms, reading the fear and tension in the strained lines around her eyes and mouth. “It could be too dangerous.”
“It could be too dangerous to leave me here alone. Let me go with you.”
She had a point. He glanced around. Though he didn’t want her to see what he knew he would find, she would be safer by his side, not alone here in the woods.
“All right. Hold on tight.” He lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Whatever you do and whatever we see, don’t make a sound. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, certainly closing her eyes as she hated to travel this way.
“Here we go.”
He stared ahead through the woods and sped away—climbing the hill on the other side of the gully, speeding in between and around trees at breakneck speed, leaping a chasm that opened up in the valley floor and coming out to a rocky outcropping where an icy gale whipped up the mountainside.
He lowered her to the craggy ledge, and he too flattened himself onto his belly. “Slide up beside me,” he whispered.
Bombarded now with the pungent smell that had caught him miles away, he cringed beneath the weight of so much blood. He pressed a finger to his lips to signal Sienna to stay quiet. She nodded, then he inched upward on his forearms, until he could look out and see the valley below. Sienna did the same, not making a sound as he’d warned her. Peeking just above the outcropping, his fears were realized. Sienna clamped her hand over her own mouth.
The village of Kellswater was under siege…by Royal Legionnaires. The distinct silver and blue uniforms of Glass Tower blurred this way and that as soldiers captured another human and dragged them to a line of waiting carts with bars—prison carts. One vampire had a small boy by the arm who kicked and flailed, his screams mixing with that of all the others as he was tossed into a caged cart with other cowering children. It took two vampires to drag a brute of a man toward another cart where human men stood inside, yelling to loved ones on the other side. One man outstretched his arm to the neighboring cart where a woman stretched out her own arm, their fingers just touching.
A high-pitched squeal split the cacophony of savagery but did not stop the tumult from continuing. A young girl, certainly not more than sixteen years, bolted from a small hut, her tunic torn from one shoulder, a trail of blood dripping down her neck. A brawny vampire who’d just caged another child flashed across the space and grabbed her around the waist with one arm. A second Legionnaire, tall and blond, sauntered out of the hut casually in his sleeveless undershirt, his soldier’s jacket removed. The two laughed as they met in front of the hut, the larger one still holding the girl who kicked and screamed, her dark hair wild and loose around her shoulders.
A middle-aged man charged toward them with a harvesting scythe raised, screaming like a madman. The blond vampire sped forward and slashed the man’s throat as he tossed him to the ground. Picking up the scythe, he then sliced the man’s head off. The girl reached out and screamed, the word “Papa!” clear and sharp as it echoed up out of the valley.
The blond vampire who had killed the man, now moving with purpose, took the girl from the other man’s arms, tossed her over his shoulder and returned to the hut, her screams reverberating up the canyon wall. The brawny vampire moved on to help another Legionnaire wrangle a feisty adolescent and shoved him in the cage with the men.
Nikolai wrapped a protective arm around Sienna for he could feel the fear and anxiety radiating off of her ten-fold. A bright flash caught his attention to the left. He scanned up the small rise above the village, his heart pounding hard. There, atop a snow-white horse sat Queen Morgrid, donning a royal blue riding gown and silver armor, winking in the sunlight. And at her side was not the king but her son, King Dominik of Izeling. Even from here, Nikolai could see the arrogant tilt of his square jaw and a crooked smile on his face as he watched the scene below. If they should catch the two of them there, they’d—
Dread sank like a stone in his chest, imagining what they would do. Specifically to Sienna. Without warning, he clamped his hand over Sienna’s mouth and flashed in vampire speed out of sight, pausing only for a moment at the bottom of the craggy mountainside to shift her into his arms carefully. She wept and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. He pressed her head to his chest.
“Shhh.”
Then he sped lightning-fast back through the woods, not pausing for a second. The sounds and smells of the horror in Kellswater would drown out their scent even if someone should catch it for a second on the wind, but he would take no chances. Not with her. They’d take the open path across the plains and get to Dale’s Peak as swiftly as possible. For there was no doubt now the Black Lily would need the recruits.
Queen Morgrid was building her army, one village at a time. Nikolai needn’t wonder about her purpose. She was turning the men into vampire warriors, using the women as bleeders and toys for her soldiers, and harvesting the children for when they were old enough to join the ranks.
The war had just taken a very sinister turn. He had been taught to fight with honor and to respect his opponent. It was the way of the Legionnaire. But the queen was making a mockery of them all, spiraling out of control to win back her power with might and cruelty and bloody vengeance against the people she claimed to protect. No more pretending she longed for a strong monarchy. She sought tyrannical rule with an iron fist and rivers of blood.
The only ones capable of defeating her now was the Black Lily.