Hellfire and Honey, page 7
“No one?” King Kadence’s voice shook the Hall.
I lifted my head. He looked around the crowd. Everyone stared at the floor or their hands, anywhere except us.
“No one will stand in place or raise arms for their queen? She has offered her life for one of her subordinates and you would all watch her execution?”
He threw the sword to the ground beside me. The marble cracked.
“You deserved to lose this war.”
He stalked away, peeling back the curtain behind the throne. I caught a glimpse of Cynthia before the silk fell.
I stayed on the floor. My hands were numb and dizziness claimed my head. Zavier knelt at my side. I hadn’t seen him walk to me.
“Your Majesty?” he whispered.
“Send everyone home,” I said. “There’s nothing to celebrate tonight.”
Chapter Seven
I knocked on the door that had belonged to my father’s room. Nestled at the end of the long hallway of royal suites, the doors were the largest and most intricately decorated.
Frustration from the ceremony had fled, leaving me tired and empty. I forced myself to stand tall and walk with purpose. The queen was an example to her country.
Along with the exhaustion and disappointment came dread. It was a black sludge, growing thicker with each moment I lingered in the doorway. I did not want to speak to the king. The contract was signed and I would be expected to uphold my obligations.
I belonged to him now.
“Come in,” the king finally called.
I pushed the door open.
Four great windows composed the far wall, each peering into the east side of the garden. The fireplace stood centered between them, painted with gold leaf. Above it hung a thick black mantle, bare except for an uncorked bottle. A fire, which I’d ordered lit hours ago, provided the only source of warmth in the room. The four-poster bed ate away at the space, great arms stretching to the raised ceiling, and billows of black silk cascaded down to brush the floor. The blankets and sheets were also black. There used to be a couch against the opposite wall, but it was gone, leaving the rest of the room open. With nothing hanging on the walls, the space felt too large and too empty. The room, once so familiar, was now alien and dark. Nothing of my father’s remained. I’d had all of his things emptied out earlier. I’d ordered the remodel in the typical vampire style, even though it felt dark and deary to me.
The king wore the same clothes from the coronation, his jacket still missing. He was barefoot and held a glass with an inch of red-black liquid resting at the bottom. He rested one forearm against the window as he looked into the garden.
I stepped inside and closed the door.
The king took a sip from his drink. The liquid clung to the glass like rouge on a woman’s lips. Is it blood?
“Is your room all right?” I asked. “Did you see the attached sitting room?”
He took another sip, staring into the silver-coated garden.
All right, then. I twisted my hands.
“Are your staff happy with their accommodations? I saw Cynthia in the hallway. She didn’t have any complaints.”
Nothing.
I took a breath. Exhaustion pulled at me, and I longed for a place to rest. There wasn’t anywhere to sit other than the bed and I didn’t want him to think about the bed.
“I can come back in the morning.”
“Did the coronation go as you expected?” His voice was flat, unreadable.
“Not exactly.” The tone made me weary. He took another drink of the red liquid.
“So you weren’t planning to interfere with a direct challenge against me? To force your magic over me in front of everyone? To let a political criminal run away free?” He turned from the window, fire in his eyes. “None of that was part of your plan?”
I had overstepped my authority, embarrassed him in front of his newly conquered kingdom and stolen his opportunity to discipline a subordinate. I had nothing to say.
“Come here,” he said.
I didn’t move.
He arched his brow.
“Are you going to disobey the first order from your king, Queen Sal?”
“No, I’m not.” I stepped forward and the room swayed. The thought of toppling over in front of this man pulled me up. I stuck my chin out. I had pride and dignity. He couldn’t take that from me. My feet moved, slow but steady, and I walked toward the vampire.
I stopped two steps away. I couldn’t convince myself to take the final step.
He set the glass on the mantle and closed the gap between us. Muscles played through his clothes, strong and agile, toned from years on a battlefield. He stood less than an inch away. If I drew a deep breath, my chest would touch his.
I met his eyes. Rage burned within his gaze like a wildfire, years of anger built into the depths of his soul. He didn’t stare at me as though he’d conquered a kingdom and held the victory above my head. His piercing gaze held more desperation, more personal pain, than a political triumph. King Kadence carried something heavy in his heart and blamed me for it. I couldn’t fault him. Years of war had turned my heart bitter in some places, too.
He raised his hand, ran it along the side of my neck, and grabbed a handful of my hair. He turned, switching our places, putting my back to the windows.
His huge body pushed against me, forcing me backward until my back hit the cold glass. Our bodies connected, shoulders to knees. I wrapped one hand around the wrist at my hair, the other a fist by my side. The white noise of battle roared in my ears.
“What do you think would happen if I broke this glass?” The king turned my head until my cheek pressed against the cold window. His eyes bounced to my exposed neck, then back at my face.
“It would be easy.” His breath floated across my skin. “Glass is fragile, highly susceptible to vampire strength. What would your country do if this window shattered and you fell three stories and died in the garden?”
I licked my lips. “They wouldn’t do anything.”
He pushed harder. The seal of the frame groaned. My heart thundered in my ears. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t look away. If these were my last moments, I needed to see them.
“That’s right, Sal,” he whispered. “Your country, your people, they wouldn’t do anything. You have given them peace and they don’t care. Yet you came to me tonight. You expected the worst and you’re here anyway. Why do you keep protecting them?” Did this anger sprout from his frustration with my people’s actions toward me? I didn’t dare hope.
“It’s my duty,” I said.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. I took vows. I was raised for this.”
“Your father was too, but he wasn’t willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for his kingdom or his daughter. He abandoned you and now you’re cleaning up the mess.”
“I am not my father,” I said. “I have fought in this war alongside soldiers that died. My father was a capable warrior, but he didn’t understand the battlefield. He never held a comrade as they bled.” He never wished to trade places with a dying soldier.
“How far will you go for these people, Sal?”
“These people now include your people, Kadence.” I guessed we were on a first name basis. “I would die for any of them.”
“You’re a fool.”
Anger slipped through the fear. “I am willing to admit defeat in a two-hundred-year war. I am willing to set aside the loss of countless loved ones, my birthright to the throne, my body and life if you choose to take them. I have fought next to soldiers better than me and I will continue to do that for my people, for your people, for any innocent that needs to be protected. If you think that makes me a fool, you should wish the title for yourself too.”
His eyes sparked. I had fueled the flames. My instincts screamed to flee and hide, but there was no escape from his hard body pressed against me. He loosened the grip on my hair and slipped his fingers between the strands. I thought, perhaps, a flash of a softer emotion drew across his face, but he pulled the cursed silver bracelet from his pocket.
“Put it on.” He held it out to me. No markings marred its matte silver surface. It wrapped into a three-quarters circle with a small opening wide enough to slip my wrist through.
Memories of the dread and hopeless feeling of the loss of my magic surfaced. My hand shook as I reached out and grabbed the bracelet.
Shock pierced me along with pain, a thousand sharp cuts through my mind. I forced my hands to move. Shaking, I put the jewelry on my wrist. Unlike when I touched it in the dim tent, I knew what to expect this time, and the pain ebbed. I let out my breath. My head cleared. The opening of the bracelet sealed and it became a solid cuff on my right wrist. A witch had certainly crafted this item. What traitor would make the vampires something like this?
Kadence watched me. I piled all the hatred, all the pain and anger into my gaze so he could see hellfire in my eyes.
One corner of his mouth turned up.
“Take the dress off.”
“What?”
“Take it off.”
“You want...me to do it?”
He nodded.
I fumbled with the single button of the lace cardigan. At some point while breaking the fight between Reuben and Kadence, the lace had ripped. The seams stretched apart, thread unraveled and hung like golden cobwebs on my arms. It took several moments for my shaking fingers to persuade the tiny button from the hole. The freed fabric dropped to the ground in a golden puddle. The strapless white dress underneath bared my shoulders and hugged my breasts and hips.
“I guess I can take it from here.” Kadence grabbed my waist and pressed against me, hot compared to the icy glass on my back.
He wrapped one hand into my hair again and pulled my head back hard. His eyes, wild and unfocused, roamed my neck, my breasts, my lips. I put my hands on his chest, maybe to push him away, but I stopped. I wasn’t naive. I would do anything to keep my people alive.
“What do you think, Sal?” His breath ran over my neck. His eyes bled to silver and twin peaks of white fangs poked through the dark smile. I couldn’t feel the icy window anymore with his body pressed so hard against mine. “Are they worth this, the people that would have gladly watched me kill you tonight?”
I shut my eyes, too scared of the answer that may have slipped through my lips.
The vampire stopped. Breath froze in his chest and he turned to stone against me. One hand moved to my face and he rubbed my cheek with his thumb.
He was suddenly gone.
I collapsed to my knees, scraping my hand along the rough rock hearth to stop my fall. My breath caught in my chest.
“Leave, Sal,” Kadence said from halfway across the room, his back to me. “Leave me.”
I rose to my shaking feet. My head swam. More controlled than a sprint, but barely, I crossed the room, pulled open the heavy door, and slipped into the hall. Afraid of what I would see in the king’s face, I didn’t look back.
My mother’s old room felt dark and foreign. Her bed had been replaced with my own, but the familiar headboard didn’t eliminate the hollow echo saying I didn’t belong here.
I turned the key in the door’s lock, although it only created a faux assurance of safety. If the vampire wanted in, he would make short work of the iron lock. As it clicked in place, trapping my sorrow and grief outside, a new emotion funneled from my soul—loathing. A match against paper, it consumed me from the inside out and hungered for more.
I staggered away from the door and opened the chest at the foot of the bed. Nestled on top of armor plates and leather buckles, lay my sword. The familiar weight in my palm was the bandage I needed to help heal from this broken night. Dragging the weapon with one hand, I climbed onto my bed. The fire had died long ago and the bedding harbored a chill from the brisk air.
I settled the sword beside me and pulled the blankets up to my neck. My country may crumble, but if the vampire wanted another visit tonight, he would greet sharp steel first.
Chapter Eight
“It’s madness,” Councilwoman Shanna Bowden said, smacking her hand on the table of the council chamber. “The kingdom cannot hold half of the vampire king’s troops. There is nowhere to put them.”
“I don’t understand why they want to be here.” Councilman Eric Knox’s bald head bobbed when he talked. I usually had to suppress a laugh, but frustration had created a headache and I didn’t feel like laughing.
Rayhan huffed beside me and settled into his chair. He and Cynthia had joined the council for the last two days. Nobody had seen Kadence since I’d fled his room the night of the coronation. I didn’t ask where he was. Renee, my new staff member and Kadence’s spy, waited outside the council chamber with Saffa and the guards.
“Councilman Knox, you have read the fine print of the surrender probably as many times as I have,” I said again. I almost had this speech memorized. “The vampires have the right to live in either kingdom, as do our own people. Many merchant witches are already planning to sell their wares in Vari Kolum, as long as the peace is maintained. The vampires are having the same discussion that we are right now.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “It just doesn’t seem fair.”
I bit my tongue. Surrender wasn’t supposed to be fair. We were lucky with the terms Kadence had set. I would uphold them even if it meant arguing with children.
“Would you shut up, Eric?” Jayne Andrews said, her voice cracking in the middle. The rest of the room smothered a chuckle. “Maybe if you lot had listened to the queen earlier, we wouldn’t be trying to fit six thousand vampires into the city.”
The vampire army still settled in the valley beyond our gates. Half would return to their kingdom, but the rest would be relocated inside. Kadence needed to maintain a show of force and have soldiers to police his new people. Shuttling supplies to their camp cost time and money.
“Look,” I started again, “we have the empty barracks from the five thousand troops that…” My parents stole from us. “…disappeared. That leaves about a thousand people to house. See these plots of farmland?”
A map covered the meeting table, an aerial view of the entire kingdom and the surrounding two miles. Sections of green farmland spread through most of the map, but clusters of houses, shops, and common areas nestled here and there. The castle grounds stood like grey blocks. I pointed to two brown houses at the top corner, less than half a mile from the edge of the castle’s perimeter.
“The families on this land have been trying to sell for years. The property is sloped and water runs down the hill, causing irrigation to be irregular and unpredictable. They haven’t had a successful crop yield in almost five years. If we buy the land and employ a temporary labor assignment, we can have two new barracks built in less than a year.”
“And where would the displaced farmers go?” Knox asked.
I shrugged. “They could go anywhere, Councilman Knox. They would be able to afford new plots of land or to invest in a new business.”
“Where will the vampires stay while the barracks are being built?” Councilwoman Bowden asked.
“I am open to suggestions.”
Julien Amos, the son of a high-status family, sneered.
The flat end of Rayhan’s giant battle axe smashed onto the table. The wooden surface groaned. The legs at the rear tipped up two inches and papers slid toward me.
“Do you have something to say?” Rayhan pointed a thick finger at Amos. “Because I thought I heard you say something.”
“No, you fat leech.” Amos showed his teeth. “I don’t have anything to say.”
Rayhan stood.
“Call me that again and you won’t be able to speak. I’ll carve out your tongue with my axe and my aim isn’t that good.”
Amos pulled a sword that I was sure had never tasted blood.
I reached for my magic and found only a ragged, gaping hole. I teetered at the edge, lost inside myself. I found my footing and drew back. The bracelet looked flat and innocent on my wrist, deceptive.
“Knock it off,” I commanded. “You’re both grownups. Put away your toys or go sit outside.”
Councilwoman Bowden clicked her tongue. “That’s not very professional, Your Majesty.”
“A good queen wouldn’t say something so brash. I wonder what that means about you,” Cynthia said.
I wished I could threaten them all with my own battle axe.
The door opened and Zavier stepped inside, holding a thick stack of paper. He paused halfway and took in the room. Rayhan’s axe sat on the table, Amos had his sword pointed at the larger man, and at some point Cynthia had drawn two dainty knives. I don’t know where she hid them in the skin-tight black dress, but they were clearly well-used.
“I trust everything is going well, Julien?”
Amos lowered the sword. “Yes, sir.”
“Rayhan?”
“Just a bit of fun.” The vampire gave a toothy smile.
“My Queen?”
I smiled, but my face felt too tight for the gesture. “We were having a disagreement about where the surplus troops can be housed while the barracks are built.”
“I had a thought about that.” Zavier put his papers down, shuffled through them, and pulled one out. “Why don’t they stay in the common centers?”
The kingdom had three common centers. One was on the castle grounds, behind the gardens. Two were at the public parks nestled in the city. The centers hadn’t been used much since my parents left. The common center building at the castle could hold almost five hundred cots.
“But then where will the summer art gallery be held?” Bowden asked.
Zavier gave the woman a bright smile and her cheeks pinkened.
“I love your passion for the arts, Shanna.” He turned to me. “My Queen, do you have any alternate venue ideas for the summer gallery? I know how important community morale is to you.”
Zavier was doing it again. He was setting me up to look good in front of the council. I just had to say something smart and popular.
