Blood Ties Read online

  But she’d never seen anything like this.

  The vampire was a god, a specter of fiery vengeance, shining like the sun and the moon all wrapped up in one. The air around him shivered with power. His hair billowed in nonexistent wind, his eyes a red so bright, so vibrant, Lucidia thought for a moment that she’d never seen anything like it before. It was like she didn’t even recognize the vampire, and she pressed into her chair with a bolt of prickly fear. The vampires around the room, Zane included, stared in wide-eyed amazement at the show before them. For a moment, the entire room seemed to swell with the power, with the sheer energy presented to them. Then, one by one, vampires stood, slowly at first, but more with each passing second. Each one regarded the vampire before them, standing next to Robin, and moved their fist over their heart, a silent show of goodwill. When the immediate shock faded, Lucidia couldn’t help but turn to Zane, a wide smile spreading on her face at the show of morale and support contained in the room. He smiled back, a crooked grin, and nodded once. She knew exactly what he meant to say, even though they hadn’t exchanged a single word.

  We might just have a chance at this.

  And after losing so much for so long, it felt damn good. Lucidia stood, too, feeling the unbridled power thrumming through her fingertips, waiting to be unleashed.

  Reykon

  Reykon watched as Robin and Chadwick sat together, draining the vampiric life out of Fausta’s second general and somehow converting it into magic to fuel the massive hordes of children, elderly strongbloods, and humans through the portal and into the mirror dimension. They might not all fit in the beach house, but they’d find a place to hole up temporarily. And no matter where they went, it’d be better than here. Reykon knew sieges. He knew wartime. He knew it, and for some reason, he was really, really good at it. He was good at it then, during his time with Reed, and he was still good at it now. It was like a game of chess, and he was playing Fausta, studying her moves, unraveling the way she thought and gleaning insight from each of her actions. He loved the thrill of the puzzle. And he loved the stakes of the fight. That, after all, was something Reed had told him that he’d been running from for quite some time.

  You come alive for the fight, Reykon, like nothing I’ve ever seen before…

  After his observation, he’d been able to tell a few things about Fausta. First, she wasn’t a natural born strategist, at least not to the extent that Darian was. He supposed that Fausta had had excellent counsel when it came to the siege of the royal houses, nearly three months prior, but this battle was being fought quite radically, all things considered. That meant she either didn’t bring her advisor or stopped listening to them. Either option proved valuable to him.

  Time was running down, he realized, as he checked his watch. It was nearly 3 p.m., and they grew closer and closer to sunset. He could feel the tension surging inside the castle walls, feel the vampires getting jumpy. He could also feel the magic in the air, crackling like nothing he’d experienced before. He could hardly wrap his head around the vampiric energy conversion that must have been happening, and didn’t even pretend to understand it, but what he did understand was leverage, and he knew that every innocent they funneled out of the stronghold was a little bit of leverage that Fausta lost and a little less weight on Darian’s conscience. That was good, because the leader of the battle is pretty damn important. Equality be damned, Darian Xander was still the captain of their ship. Robin had made a bold and epic move transplanting him with energy in front of all the generals, and it had been the perfect step to take, because now, everyone seemed to be hyped up and ready to fight. It was just the morale boost they needed, but the battle was far from won. They had vampires. They had about three thousand vampires, and three thousand strongbloods. Fausta had at least two thousand vampires and ten thousand wolves. The numbers were not in their favor. Not at all. Reykon had faced worse odds, but he knew what it would take to clinch the victory. Where numbers were lacking, they had to make it up in strategy.

  So far, their strategic move had been funneling the refugees out in small groups and putting magical charms in large areas of the castle to make it appear full. If Fausta had any spies remaining in the castle, they would either trust the mirage, or they wouldn’t have enough time to spill the beans about it. But even still, because of the potential espionage, they’d had to be careful about who to send, and had only gotten half of the refugees out. Reykon knew they wouldn’t be able to evacuate everybody. He watched the last people in the room go, Chadwick catching his breath, Robin taking a little more from the vampire that looked to be running low on mojo. Angry steps echoed across the stone floor, and he turned to find Lucidia marching through the doors, gripping Indigo by her skinny little arm.

  Jesus, the two of them were like peas in a pod.

  Lucidia was all anger as she marched towards the arch, when Indigo finally managed to wrench her arm free.

  “I’m not going! I want to fight,” she snapped, stepping into a fighting stance as though she’d have a snowball’s chance of taking Lucidia down.

  “You’re going,” Lucidia seethed, pointing at the arch.

  They could see the shimmering image of the beach house, a dim, nearly transparent sight.

  “You can’t boss me around!” Indigo said, a deep scowl on her face.

  “But I can,” Darian’s slightly amused voice came from behind Reykon. “Go.”

  Indigo’s scowl deepened as she stood, still as a board, angry at everybody in the room. Reykon suppressed a smile at the fact that Indigo wasn’t moving. Lucidia finally let out a long sigh and took Indigo by the arm, pulling her over to the portal and pointing at the show.

  “Look at all those people,” Lucidia said, holding Indigo in place. “What do you see?”

  Indigo peered into the arch, narrowing her eyes. “They’re weak.”

  “Yeah, and what are you?”

  “I’m not like them!” Indigo said sharply.

  “Exactly,” Lucidia said, pulling the small strongblood to face her, holding the girl by both arms. “You’re stronger than them. Braver.”

  “So let me fight,” she said, nearly begging.

  Lucidia shook her head. “And if you fight, what about them?”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re weak and they’re scared. What do they need?”

  Indigo shrugged, letting her gaze swivel back to the arch.

  “They need someone strong. They need someone to remind them about who’s fighting for them. They need a leader. There? You can make a difference, Indigo. That’s where we need you to go.”

  “But I don’t want to,” she said, nearly stomping her foot in anger.

  “It’s not about what you want,” Lucidia said softly. “It’s your job. It’s your duty, and it’s your part in the battle. This is just as important as the fighting we’ll be doing.”

  Indigo’s little head sunk for a moment as she looked at her feet and then nodded. Silence settled into the room and Chadwick fired up the arch, casting a blue glow over the whole space, letting the sharp crackle of magic diffuse into the air again. Indigo looked at it for a moment before launching forward, nearly toppling Lucidia over with the force of her hug. Lucidia wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her there for a moment before Indigo stood up and sniffled, wiping her nose quickly. “Don’t die,” the girl instructed.

  Lucidia grinned. “I’ll try my best.”

  Indigo hesitated, fidgeting as she pulled something out of her pocket and pushed it towards Lucidia. “I made this for you.”

  Reykon looked at the simple black leather cord with purple beads woven onto it. “Battle ties,” Lucidia murmured, taking the cord and wrapping it around her knuckles.

  “I don’t know what weapon you’re gonna use, but… well, you’ll find something,” Indigo muttered.

  “Purple… for House Xander,” Lucidia said, her eyes fixed on them.

  Indigo frowned. “No, it’s purple because of your eyes.”
r />   Lucidia raised an eyebrow. “That’s even better.”

  “If you want, you can use my bow,” Indigo said. “I left it in the training room.”

  Lucidia’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Thank you, Indigo.”

  “Just don’t break it,” she said with her signature scowl.

  Lucidia nodded at the young strongblood, watching her slip into the blue arch, the crackle of magic surging and fading once more.

  Reykon crossed the room, walking over to Robin and Chadwick. “How are you holding up?” he asked Robin.

  “Fine,” she said, her eyes shifting down to the vampire chained up next to them. “He doesn’t have much left. I just hope it’ll be enough.”

  “Half of the refugees have been relocated,” Darian said from across the room. “This is a blessing beyond belief, that you two have accomplished so much.”

  “What about the others?”

  Darian raised an eyebrow. “I suppose we will just have to win the battle to ensure their safety.”

  Robin smiled. “That’s a good way to think about it.”

  Chadwick stood, rubbing his hands together and doing a strange little jump-walk. He looked like he was on crack. “You good?” Reykon asked, giving him a funny look.

  Chadwick quirked his head to the side in a twitchy motion. “I’m more than good…” he said, shaking his hands again. “I mean, this is… sublime.”

  “Don’t let it all go to your head,” Reykon said lightly.

  Chadwick snapped his fingers and ran over to a tarp in the corner. “I almost forgot! In my spare time, between enchanting the empty halls and playing Moses for House Xander, I made gifts.”

  “Gifts?”

  “Oh yeah. When you have this much time, talent, and energy, you don’t let it go to waste.”

  Reykon smiled, shaking his head. “Is any of this stuff going to get us in trouble with the caster’s guild?”

  “Probably, but they don’t need to know that.”

  A slim smile spread on Reykon’s lips as he watched the caster pull out an armful of clanking items. “Okay, first,” Chadwick said, pointing at Reykon. “I snagged your sword from the room before we left.”

  Reykon grinned just as Chadwick tossed the gleaming weapon across the room and he caught it with one hand, twirling it around for good measure. It didn’t escape him that Darian stiffened.

  “What is it?” Ezra asked with a scowl.

  “A weapon forged for use during the insurgency,” Darian muttered.

  Ezra’s eyebrows crunched together. “How did he…?”

  “Talk to the caster,” Reykon beamed, watching the firelight dance across the blade.

  Chadwick laughed and tossed Reykon a bundle of cloth. “Also, I adapted these with the same technology as that sword.”

  Reykon set the weapon down carefully, respectfully, and unfolded the leaves of cloth until he saw what lay inside. “No way…” Reykon grinned.

  “Call it an overdue thank you for letting me use you as a lab rat.”

  “You’ve more than made up for it,” Reykon said, pulling out the golden brass knuckles and interlocking his fingers in the slim rings. “Oh boy,” he laughed. “This is gonna be a fun battle.”

  “Don’t get too cocky, strongblood,” Ezra said lightly. “You have to get close enough to a vampire to use those.”

  Reykon flashed him a smile. “Hopefully you’re a better teacher than you are a fighter.”

  Ezra ticked his head to the side in admission.

  “For Lucidia, conveniently enough, I have a weapon, but it’s not like the others.”

  She frowned.

  “I owe you a special apology because I took the bindings off while you were asleep. I let my own interests get in the way, and for that, I am sorry. Hopefully, these will make up for it.” He held out two arm guards, slim, tapering into sharp points at the end. They were made out of silver metal and had beautiful design work etched into the top.

  Reykon could tell Lucidia was trying to be polite when she took the gauntlets.

  “Thank you,” Lucidia said, nearly putting a question mark on the end. As soon as they connected with her hands, a bolt of blue magic raced up her arms and she staggered back. “Chadwick, what the hell!” she roared.

  Chadwick held both hands out as the room stiffened, watching Lucidia with caution. “Don’t get mad at me until you try it out,” he said.

  Lucidia raised her eyebrow, looking at the arm guards that had magically wrapped themselves around her forearms. “What’s to try out?”

  “Think of a weapon, any weapon, and then attack the wall.”

  “Attack the wall?” Lucidia shot back.

  “Humor me!”

  Lucidia let out a sharp breath and closed her eyes. “This is stupid,” she grumbled, charging to the wall and extending her hand. Just as Reykon thought she was going to hit the stones, a shimmer of light burst from her arms and the metal guards liquified, melding together and forming a vicious Morningstar just in time to smash into the wall, sending a cloud of dust and gravel out from its impact crater. Lucidia’s eyes went as wide as Reykon’s did. “Holy hell,” Lucidia muttered looking at the weapon, that now morphed again, slinking back to the unassuming arm guards.

  Chadwick grinned and dropped his hands. “What did I tell you? They’re called Ceres Swords because they attach to your cerebrum through magic. They’re literally an extension of your body, and you can make pretty much any weapon you can envision, within reason. The longer you fight with them, the more they latch onto your habits and patterns, and the more they get a mind of their own. Highly illegal, and highly badass.”

  “Dude,” Lucidia said, shaking her head with a smile of amazement. “All is forgiven.”

  “Good,” Chadwick beamed. “Now, for the next one, I need to preface it with an apology. The casters have a sordid past of picking up all sorts of things that aren’t theirs. This particular artifact was collected after an ancient vampire revolution, and it wasn’t until I heard you mention the storm breaker that I knew what it was that I’d read.”

  Darian’s eyebrows pulled together.

  “The Library of Ahgenstand has a section of primary sources collected from all sorts of incidents. One of them is a journal, found in a cave near ancient Greece. It chronicles the events that led up to the Titanomachy. It’s your journal, Darian.”

  Something crossed Darian’s face, something that Reykon had seen in Magnus before. Memory, but not the kind that was pleasant to relive.

  “Sorry, titanomachy?” Robin asked.

  “In Greek mythology, the titanomachy was the war that overthrew the titans and seated the gods of Olympus on their parents’ thrones,” Lucidia said softly. “Way back when, the old vampires were thought of as gods and played the part, so human mythology often crosses hairs with ours and then just, well, fills in the blanks. The fact that the Greek gods dropped off the face of the earth wasn’t that monotheism rose in power, but it was actually that the vampires’ heirs had to stop their makers before too much attention was drawn to the vampire race.”

  “Oh,” Robin said.

  Chadwick lifted his fingers, sending a parcel wrapped in canvas hovering across the room. “I was able to cross check other sources I’d read, and I even found a few diagrams, not that I had those laying around. It’s close, but not perfect.”

  The whole room held their breath as Darian, his red eyes far, far away, grasped the parcel with his hand, letting the billowing cloth fall to the ground. Concealed underneath was a massive, beautifully constructed war hammer. The stocky handle alone was about as thick as Robin’s forearm, and tall enough to use as a cane. The top was a solid chunk of glinting metal, something dark and primordial. The longer they looked at it, the more beautiful it seemed. The hammer portion wasn’t actually just a hammer, but it was a storm cloud of solid steel. The ends of the hammer had wicked lightning strikes, jagging out in spikes, and looking at the genius, at the craftsmanship of the thing, Reykon actually g
ot goosebumps.

  It took Darian a while to stop looking at it, to stop reliving whatever loop he’d been transported back to. When he finally brought his eyes up, he nodded deeply to Chadwick. “You are an incredibly gifted caster, but more importantly, you are a very good friend.”

  Chadwick smiled, and for the first time in the caster’s life, he kept his mouth shut. Darian ran his fingers across the head of the hammer, as though it were a work of art. “My father had this weapon commissioned for me, from a great caster. The night that Nikandros Raigon began my transformation into a vampire, there was a storm, fiercer than any we’d seen before. It rattled every home in the land and beat down the doors of even our most fortified buildings. Once my transformation was complete, there was a celebration. He bestowed me with this weapon as a gift, and named it Storm Breaker.”

  The room hushed. It wasn’t every day that you were privileged enough to hear vampires talk about history. They often liked to live in the here and now or discuss the future. Reykon supposed that when you were alive for so long, the weight of every tragedy you’ve ever experienced wasn’t something that just went away.

  Darian gripped the handle, his muscles rippling as his hand found its mark. Reykon couldn’t help but be amazed by the craftsmanship, how it seemed so tailored to Darian himself, a true extension of the vampire master’s arm. He watched it pensively, twisting it in the light. “It was the same weapon I used to strike him down during the takeover…” he murmured, losing himself in the train of thought. After a moment, he drew in a breath and regarded the room. “But it does not do to dwell on such things. Thank you, Chadwick Halifax, truly.”