Hellfire and Honey, page 19
“Oh,” a familiar voice said from far away. I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t remember who it belonged to. “Magic. I can do magic.”
The sand consumed me, all encompassing, devouring, complete. I turned to it and embraced it. Rest was good. I needed to rest.
Air seeped into a tiny hole in my lungs, burning and real. Pain flushed the static from my head. I gasped like a fish out of water, sucking in as much oxygen as I could. My vision cleared in time to see a roundhouse kick coming at my face.
I raised my sword to block and the blade cut into the hybrid’s leg. He screamed and lobbed a flurry of hits that I ducked and dodged.
I blocked and we circled. He lurched, feigning right, and I pretended I didn’t notice. At the last second, he turned left, and my sword was already there. It stabbed through. Blood and fluids leaked down his chest. The symbols stopped glowing. The hybrid's red eyes turned golden brown, clear. He grabbed the sword, slicing his hands on the blade, and pulled it deeper into his body. Inches from my face, his final words were a caress on my cheek.
“The traitor,” he whispered. His eyes darted about before the light of life left them and he slouched, dead. I let his weight drag him to the ground and I pulled my sword from his body.
Shock and confusion twinged in my chest. The vampire had told me something very important, but I didn’t know what it meant.
Saffa’s vampire perched on his knees. She lifted her sword, aimed at his neck. The symbols on his body dimmed and he raised his deep blue eyes to her for a fraction of a second, then squeezed them closed.
Her concentration broke. Her blade hesitated.
The hybrid peeled one eye open.
“Um, hello?” Saffa said.
“What are you doing?” the bloodsucker hissed. A raspy edge lined his voice, as though it hadn’t been used for a long time. “You have to kill me.”
Saffa raised an eyebrow.
The hybrid dragged himself toward her sword and pressed the blade against his throat. His hands trembled while he held it there, eyes shut again.
“Please, please, miss, just do it. I don’t know how long I can be like this. They could come back at any moment.” Tears broke through his closed lids and trailed down his face, smudging the red symbols on his cheeks.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Saffa said.
The hybrid’s eyes snapped open and locked onto the witch.
“You have to, or I’ll kill you. Or her.” He pointed a shaky finger at me. “I’m supposed to kill her.”
“How about if you try to kill any of us, then I will kill you?”
He looked up at her. “You promise?”
She nodded, her dark bun bobbing at her nape.
“All right, that’s all right,” he whispered. He fell to his knees, arms down at his side. His chest heaved as though it hurt to breathe.
“Who’s making you try to kill me?” I asked.
Saffa sent me a sharp look. “You could at least ask his name first.”
“My name is Remi and I need to talk to the queen before they come back,” the man said. Without the glowing symbols and red eyes, he looked tired and sad.
“Before who comes back?” I avoided Saffa’s pointed glare.
“I don’t know who it is, who they are. They kept us locked up in a dark cage.”
“Us?”
“There were several others with me, but I don’t know how many. There was never light, never anyone to see. I could hear the others, but I couldn’t see anything.”
“Shouldn’t hybrids be able to see in the dark, if they’re half vampire?” I asked.
“I’m not sure what a hybrid is, Queen Salvatore. I was born a vampire and we can see in the dark. It must have been magic. They came every couple of days and force-fed us blood to keep us alive. We were bound and there was no way to avoid it. Some days they brought new vampires into the cage. Sometimes, I heard them drag others out and they never came back.”
His gaze hollowed and I knew he was back in that cell, beside the sounds of tortured people, remembering helplessness.
“They came for me. They shocked me with something and I woke up in a chair. My head was shaved and they painted symbols on my skin. Once they were done, they forced more blood into my mouth and chanted something. Then,” Remi shook his head, “then my body wasn’t mine anymore.”
“Like possession?” The word left a bitter taste in my mouth.
He shook his head. “I had my thoughts and my mind. But I couldn’t move. My body was on fire with these symbols and I realized they controlled me.”
“Like mind control,” Saffa said.
Remi nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, like that.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. “There isn’t a spell for mind control.”
“Apparently there is,” he said. “Also, I can do this.”
He stretched his hand, palm out, and a blast of magic hit the nearest tree. The torrent of power ripped through the thick trunk, sending pieces of bark through the air. The great pine split in half, teetered for a moment as though warring with gravity, then crashed behind us, thundering into the open clearing.
My jaw fell.
“We should kill him,” Reuben said as he pondered the remains of the smoldering tree truck. I had almost forgotten he was there. “We should definitely kill him.”
Remi looked at his hands as though he didn’t recognize them.
“I don’t know what they did to me,” he whispered.
I didn’t either.
Nausea ripped through me. I clutched my stomach and the world spun. Bile burned the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down. I swayed on my feet, rocking, and fought to remain upright. Sweat beaded on my skin.
“Sal?” Saffa frowned. “Are you all right?”
Cool air, tinted with the smell of fall, filled my lungs. The nausea slipped away.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I straightened my shoulders. The illness faded as quickly as it had come. “Reuben, ride toward the castle and send the first soldiers you find. Then go to Zavier and tell him to come out here right away.”
“Why do I have to go?” Reuben crossed his arms.
Saffa made a face at his disrespectful tone, but she didn’t say anything.
“Because we have a possible enemy prisoner and you’re the only one who didn’t bring a sword.”
He stuck his lower lip out and looked between me and Saffa, whose blade hovered close to Remi’s neck. Just in case.
“Fine.” Reuben stomped to the horses, skirting around the blood and the bodies. “I’ll do it for you, Sal.”
His eyes caught mine as he pulled the horse around. A shadow flickered through them, dark and bitter, the same expression he had in my bedroom earlier. He looked at me the way he would look at a cow at slaughter. Distasteful, sad, but with a hint of anticipation. He turned and rode away.
“He’s going to be a problem.” Saffa narrowed her eyes at Reuben’s retreating figure.
“Yes.” I sighed. A problem I would deal with later. There seemed to be a lot of those stacking up.
Jon Chan stared blindly at the sky. His throat was a torn mess of flesh and blood, and evidence of teeth marks suggested he had been chewed on after his death. Blood wet his wrinkled clothes. Gently, I put my hand over his eyes and closed them, letting him rest. His skin was still warm.
“I’m sorry,” Remi said. Silent tears washed away the chalky red symbols in twin rivers that flowed down his cheeks. “I don’t know if I killed him, but I know I helped.”
“It’s not your fault,” Saffa said gently.
I dragged the guard’s bodies next to Jon, lining them up in a neat row. They had been killed cleanly, all their necks broken. They had quick deaths, painless. Maybe that would bring me comfort when I tried to sleep tonight.
I didn’t touch either of the dead hybrids. The symbols on their bodies were almost pristine and I needed my historical spellwork experts to look at them. But my heart ached. These innocents had gotten caught as collateral damage in a vendetta against me, a result of the escalating assassination attempts. Their families were missing them, as they were locked away in the dark and hopelessly waiting for rescue. We didn’t even know any vampires had gone missing. It was unacceptable and I vowed it wouldn’t happen again.
Tears brushed against my own cheeks and I wiped them away. There would be more to cry for in the coming days. I couldn’t spare any tears now.
I stood and the world tipped. I rubbed my face and splashes of color stole my vision. Sweat trickled down my forehead and my back, seeping into my black dress. Nausea returned and I couldn’t fend it off. I staggered to the tree line and threw up in the grass.
A sliver of something vibrated through my bones, a faint hint of an alien magic. The taste of sand stung the back of my throat. Strong and fierce, like an ocean wave, my magic beat against the bonds restraining it. I clawed at the silver bracelet again, blindly, frantic. My fingertips became slick. I had scratched into my skin, leaving bloody nail marks on my arm.
The foreign magic swelled again, eating into my body like acid. A scream cut through the wind. It might have come from me, but I couldn’t feel anything. Just the pain, a torrent of burning and ice swirling through my body, searching for my soul.
Someone flipped me over. When did I fall? I blinked in the bright sun and Saffa’s pale face stared down. Her hands fluttered over my body, searching for a wound.
“M-m,” I whispered, gasping through the icy jaws trying to smash me, “magic.”
Her hands stilled. The warm flickering of her power traced across my skin, a momentary relief to the pain devouring me. It splashed against me, unable to break through the strange magic inside.
“I can’t do anything, I don’t have an affinity for healing,” she said. “Just hold on, Sal. Help is coming.”
Maybe I closed my eyes, or maybe my sight faded, but the world turned black. Voices became muffled, as though spoken through a cloth.
“I can carry her,” a man said.
“You’re not going to eat her or anything, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” a woman said. Her voice was familiar and comfortable, but I couldn’t place it.
Strong arms lifted me and then everything disappeared.
Chapter Twenty
A flash of light. A wave of nausea.
“She’s going to throw up again,” a voice said.
“She’s too hot, we can’t cool her down.”
I was freezing. My body shook uncontrollably. Icy water splashed against my skin. Please, no more. I couldn’t handle more cold.
My muscles locked, a scream frozen in my throat.
“She’s seizing. Help me turn her. Is there a suction bulb nearby?”
The cold slipped away.
“Someone get the king.”
I welcomed the darkness back.
The light did not return, but the sounds did. Voices buzzed in my ears like honeybees. They grated against my thoughts and I wanted them to stop, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t tell them to go away.
A door opened on squeaky hinges. The voices hushed.
“My King,” a man said. I pushed through the mud that was my brain and a name stumbled forward—Zavier.
“What happened?” A dark, angry, powerful new voice echoed through the room. I wanted to shy away from it, but I was intrigued, captivated. What would he say next?
“Poison, my Lord. The assassins attacked again and one of her opponents had an affinity for poison magic. It saturated too deep in her body before we figured it out. We’ve had our best healers working all day, but…” His voice trailed off. “She’s dying.”
In my blindness, I felt the power move across the room. It settled next to me, cold but inviting, a refreshing drink on a hot day.
“Is this something her magic could heal?” the man asked. My brain scrambled for a name, but it slipped through my fingers like water.
“No,” Zavier said. “Her magic has never been able to heal and the healers have tried everything. There’s nothing we can do.”
Fingers brushed my forehead and coolness soaked into my skin. Part of my mind realized it must be my fever, but the rest reveled in the touch. The fingers trailed across my face and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I can help her.” The man’s power pressed against me, threatening to drown me. I should have been afraid, but I craved another touch. “It won’t be pretty. You all need to leave.”
The room fell silent. Not even a breath was drawn.
“Would your help turn her?” Zavier whispered. “Would she become a vampire?”
“Can you decide that for her?” Power cascaded around my body, a waterfall of strength. It recognized me and pulled a name from my broken mind. Kadence, this was Kadence.
“I don’t know,” Zavier said.
“Can you decide if she would rather die now, quickly in her own bed? Or would she rather survive this as a vampire, the enemy she’s fought against her entire life? Which would you choose for her?”
“She would want to live,” Zavier whispered. “No matter what. She would do anything to be there for her people.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kadence said. “But I’m not going to make her a vampire. Now leave, so I can help her.”
A moment later, footsteps faded and the door closed.
Kadence sighed. His hand wrapped around the back of my head and he lifted me from the soft mattress. His strong arms cradled my body in his lap, and the rhythm of his breathing fought the panic in my mind. Power brushed over me, a thin veil lighter than air. He pressed into my body, sharing his strength. The blackness faded away. The pain receded enough to crack open my eyes.
He studied my face, lips curved into a half smile.
“You look like hell, Sal,” he said.
I licked my dry lips and tried to speak.
“You too,” I croaked. Gee, yes, that’s a good one. It wasn’t even true. His black hair was neat, his shirt didn’t have a thread out of place. The warm, sturdy arms wrapped around me were the most comfortable support I’d had in a long time. He would have to kill me before I admitted that.
“I can help you, but you’re not going to like it.”
His power had chased away the pain, but it ebbed and flowed like a tide. Each time, it swelled up stronger. My voice faded again and my head lulled. I wouldn’t be able to hold onto consciousness for long.
Kadence shifted his hand and held up a small knife. It spanned barely three inches, plain silver, and undecorated.
I pushed the sand from my lungs, fighting for a gasp of air.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.”
The knife slit Kadence’s skin like paper. He sliced vertically down his right wrist, three or four inches into a vein. Blood spilled, deeper than red wine.
“The knife is silver. It won’t heal right away.” Kadence brought his wrist to my face. “You have to drink it.”
I turned, but his strong hand locked my head in place.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered, my voice broken. The sound scarcely escaped.
“Don’t worry, Sal,” he said, “I’ve got you.”
He pressed the blood against my lips. I squeezed them shut, but the liquid flowed through. It slipped across my tongue like fresh honey, sweet and delicious.
A growl ripped through the room, stolen from my throat. I grabbed at Kadence’s wrist, pressing it closer with both hands. My mouth sealed around the wound, and I guzzled the liquid, panting as I swallowed. The blood was warm and metallic, the power inside intoxicating. It was life and love and every beat of his heart pumped more and more into me. The sand in my lungs melted, no match for the vampire’s strength.
My mouth soon pressed against solid skin. Silver slowed down a vampire’s accelerated healing, the same way it slowed our magic, but it didn’t stop it. His wound mended and the blood flow ceased. It felt like when I had first touched the bracelet and my magic had been ripped away. A hole gaped in my soul, searching for more blood, more power.
“It’s healed, Sal,” Kadence said softly. He had shifted me, cradling my head against his chest, and his hand stroked my hair. “There’s no more.”
“No,” I cried. Tears fell from my cheeks onto my chest, pooling between my skin and his shirt. I cried for his blood, for Jon Chan’s eyes staring sightlessly into the sky, for my parents who had wandered away and were now returning to condemn us all. I cried for Kadence, an orphan alone in his own kingdom, then alone in mine. I cried for my people, about to fight for their lives and for the ones that I knew would lose.
Kadence rocked me and ran his hand through my hair.
I cried until I fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
A soft light brushed against my eyelids and I peeled them open. I groaned and my throat hurt, as though I hadn’t had water in days.
“Sal.” Zavier sat up from the chair beside the bed. A stack of papers spilled to the floor, forgotten in his haste. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” I squinted in the dim light. The familiar view of my mother’s room sharpened – my room – tucked into bed. Someone had changed me out of the bloody dress and into a clean nightgown. My head pounded with every movement.
“I feel awful,” I said.
Zavier laughed and grabbed my hand.
I smiled, ignoring the ache his touch sent to my head.
“Kadence said it would take a few days for you to fully recover.”
Days?
“How long has it been?” Panic caught my heart. How much time did we have left?
“It’s only been two days,” Zavier said. “Everything is okay. The new recruits are training well and the Army of the Dead are advancing as predicted. We’ve managed to hold everything together without you, although I’m not sure for how much longer. This is the most lucid you’ve been. Usually you wake up mumbling and then pass out right away,” Zavier said. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
My stomach revolted at the thought, but my throat ached.
