CHAPTER 13

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Isabel asked with her eyes fixated on Presten’s.

 

“Do we really have another choice?” he said, reaching into the cloth and pulling out a bronze handled dagger. He stared at his own reflection in the blade before he cut his hand with it. The blood came gushing out of his palm. “Fuck,” he said.

 

“Are you okay?” Isabel asked, her eyes wide as a set of plates. Presten grimaced, but nodded. She took the dagger and cut herself too, smearing her own blood all over the blade. “It’s the only way,” she said, rather to herself.

 

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Presten asked.

 

“Kind of, it’s not too deep, though,” she said. “Alright, there are only a few hours left… all we have to do is wait until lunch time.”

 

“Did the note say two o’clock?” Presten asked, clenching his eyes. A sharp pain shot up his arm, but he ignored it.

 

“Yeah,” Isabel said, putting the blood-smeared dagger back into its cloth. She held onto it like dear life and when her gaze met Oz’s, her lips curved into a smile.

“Do you want me to go over the note with you?” he asked, his lips barely moving. Isabel could tell he had gotten weak.

 

“No, that’s okay… I think we’ve got it covered,” she said. “Listen, I don’t want you to worry about me. The note carries clear instructions of what we’re supposed to do, and I promise you, Oz, I promise you… we’re going to make it back safe.”

 

“My part here is done,” he said with the contentedness of a great master. “Now it’s all up to you to get us all out of this mess.”

 

“No pressure,” Presten laughed.

 

“So is it true that the rebels have infiltrated the council?” Oz asked, turning to Isabel.

 

“Yes, it says so in the note. They’ve been there for a long time, but they were dormant. It turns out they were waiting for Presten and I.”

 

“They are a strong force,” Oz said, his voice boiling down to a whisper. “And they tend to form rallies… they’re probably more in number than you think.”

 

“That’s probably the most reassuring thing I’ve heard all day,” she said, her lips curving to a smile. She exchanged brief glances with Oz, and then he got up on the balls of his feet.

 

“Listen to me, both of you,” he said. “Be careful of the King Vampire… they don’t write about him in books for no reason.”

 

Isabel’s face drooped to a scowl. She thought back to that day when she and Presten discovered Gavin’s secret book library. She thought back to that book she had been saving all this time. She had seen pictures of the King Vampire all over the pages; he was strong, intimidating. Isabel thought he resembled the devil. She couldn’t help but feel afraid, but somewhere at the back of her mind lingered the little girl’s face, and it was telling her how to act.

 

The hours rolled by and Isabel knew it was time to go. “It’s almost one thirty,” she said. “We should probably get going.”

“Do you think they’ve set up the lunch table yet?” Presten asked.

 

“Of course not, which is why we need to get there early… we need to go into the kitchen first so we can, you know, seep it into their drinks.”

 

“Do you have the map she gave you?” Presten asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s in my pocket,” Isabel replied. “We should take one last look at it.” She spread it out in front of them; it was a hand drawn map. The little girl had slipped it into the prison cell the very first time Isabel had been down in the dungeon. Presten inspected the map and then he checked his watch, motioning for Isabel to follow him outside. “Did she leave the door open?” she asked.

 

“Yep,” Presten said, pushing it open. They both crept outside, and as they were about the leave the dungeons, Abeo called them.

 

“I pray that you come back to us safe,” he said, his voice trailing off.

 

“We’ll be waiting for you,” Solange said, beaming. Isabel looked around and they were all staring at them, smiling. Isabel could tell they were filled with hope, that they depended on them. She nodded towards the door; they didn’t have a second to spare.

 

“Wait,” she whispered suddenly, stopping dead in her tracks.

 

“What?” Presten asked?

 

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. Her body shuddered momentarily before she let out a sigh and opened her eyes again. Presten heard a loud thump.

 

“What was that?” he asked, rushing up the stairs. The guards were scattered over the floor like dead birds. Isabel felt a strange energy being channeled towards her. She turned around to look at Abeo; he was also crouched down on the floor with his eyes clenched. Isabel knew straight away he had helped her hypnotize the guards.

 

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes moving over to Solange, who was also fixated in that same position. Isabel then turned back and followed Presten. “Did you really think there would be no vampires standing out there?” she asked, casually trotting up the stairs. Presten’s lips curved to a smile. He had to admit, he was quite impressed.

 

“Well, we should probably get going if we want to make it there on time,” he said, stepping over the guards’ motionless bodies.

 

Presten and Isabel tiptoed across the halls. Isabel had the map memorized in her head and Presten followed her. The mansion was almost completely empty; according to the little girl with the ashen face, most of the vampires would be out on a mission to find the hostages. “We’re almost there, it should be right around that corner,” Isabel said, slowing down a bit.

 

“Are you okay?” Presten asked.

 

“I’m okay,” she said after a pause. She clenched her jaw and carried on. The kitchen was completely empty, but Isabel knew the cooks would be there soon. She held onto the cloth, picturing herself ripping that poison open and slipping it into the drinks. But she didn’t have to picture it anymore. There were wine glasses lined up on the kitchen counter like soldiers. Isabel looked left and right before she walked up to them and after making sure that no one was around, she ripped the bag open and put just a little bit of the poison in each glass, except one. This last one, she needed to spare. Isabel had a special gift for the King Vampire. She exchanged an alarmed glance with Presten as they heard footsteps. Fuck. When Isabel turned around, she was faced with one of the cooks. He was staring back at her with the bloodshot eyes of a vampire, but he didn’t say anything. He just smiled at them and popped the cork open on one of the wine bottles, pouring some in each glass.

 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m on your side.”

 

Isabel breathed a sigh of relief. “Does he sit at the head of the table? You know, the King Vampire?” she asked.

 

“Yeah… only you can kill him, Isabel. No one else.”

 

“I know that,” she said, clutching the bag in her hand. Her mind kept going back to Gavin’s book; only she who bears the ivory dagger shall hold the power to terminate the King. For the past couple of weeks, she couldn’t take that verse out of her head. It lingered in her memory; it propelled her forward towards her goal. Outside, she could hear the sound of plates clicking. She knew it was time. It was approaching two o’clock; the cook took out the salad first, setting it down on the table before returning to the kitchen. He eyed both Isabel and Presten, motioning for them to lay low and be quiet. They held their breath while he went out again with a tray in his hands. Six glasses of wine, all contaminated with the venom. He set them down on the dining table, one after the other, and then retreated back into the kitchen. He peered out the door at the council members as each of them drank their wine; Isabel couldn’t believe this was it. According to the little girl, they would be dead in a matter of minutes. The time dragged on. Isabel could feel her heart beating like a jackhammer. Suddenly she heard a loud crash, followed by coughing. She peered out the door, and soon enough, all six of the diners were coughing. One of them fell off his chair and his body began to shiver. He was going into a seizure. Finally, Isabel caught a glimpse of the King Vampire as he rose to his feet, his eyes wide as dinner plates. Her body shuddered at the mere sight of him. He was clad in black with peculiarly sharp white teeth that protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality for a man of his years. He watched as the council members dropped, one after the other, and it was only then that he realized someone had poisoned them. Isabel looked over at the cook, who was shivering so convulsively that she thought he would have a heart attack. She knew it was time to act. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, her fingers wrapped tightly around the cloth, and then she took the dagger out and charged for the King.

 

It all happened so fast. He was so caught up trying to figure out who had poisoned him that he didn’t think twice about Isabel, or Presten. With her eyes fixated on his, she hurried along the length of the table, the blood-smeared blade in her hand. Without thinking, she jabbed the dagger into his chest, but she didn’t stop there. With the force of a fighter, she stabbed him repeatedly; Presten couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The blood splattered all over her face; it was like she was possessed by some kind of energy, and it kept her going. She pulled out the blade one last time, watching as the blood dripped from it. She was panting like a dog, eyeing King’s body as it lay motionless on the floor. “It’s done, it’s over,” she said, standing over him. Presten stumbled back a few steps and then he motioned for her to follow him outside. All seven council members were lying on the floor; only the King was lying in a puddle of his own blood. Isabel was left breathless, victorious. Her hands were balled up into fists; she knew what she had to do next. “We need to get to Oz, we need to head back to Paris as soon as possible.”

 

“Do you think you can get to him telepathically?” Presten asked, his head cocked to the side.

 

“Yeah,” Isabel said confidently. “But I’m going to need your help.” They closed their eyes and focused their powers. Isabel hadn’t felt this assured in a very long time. Her head was throbbing, but she soldiered on. She had found some kind of a happy place in her head, somewhere she could channel all her energy without many obstacles. And finally, her thoughts linked themselves to Oz’s, and she could feel him answering back to her. It’s time to go back to Paris, he said.