Black Blood - 21. Chapter 21

21

The night was nice and refreshingly windy yet Viko felt like he was suffocating. He needed to get his revenge. The desire to kill Charisma with his own two hands pulsed through him like blood. Before him stood the tall castle with its dark gray walls, the moon shining upon the high towers in the sky.

The first obstacle was the fortress. It was impossible to climb the slippery stone wall. There was a heavy door guarded by a man pacing on the other side. Viko was certain Charisma had taken over and changed him—and perhaps everybody else—into one of her vampire puppets. There was a narrow opening in the fortress door, only big enough for one eye to see. The man guarding it realized there was someone on the other side.

“Password?”

“Um… Bloodsuckers rule?” he tried.

“Wrong.” An angry brown eye looked at him. “How do you even know about that? It has been kept secret.”

“It’s no secret to me. Charisma’s a… She’s a special acquaintance. Trust me, she’ll want to see me.” He pushed back his sleeves in annoyance, losing himself in that loose linen shirt he wasn’t used to.

“It’s not that simple, boy. You have to take an appointment. The Lady is very busy.”

“Doing what? Hanging paintings of herself all over the castle?”

He cleared his throat. “No, I mean, she does like to do that, but—”

This was getting him nowhere. He needed to put his plan into motion. “Listen, it’s about Blake. He’s in trouble, and he needs Charisma’s help.”

Hesitating, he said, “I suppose you’re right, if it’s about him, she’ll want to see you.”

He pulled up the heavy metallic bars blocking the door one by one, and opened to let Viko through. They started up a granite pathway lined by willow trees. Below the grand staircase were white orchid plants; no doubt Charisma had spent great money to have those delivered to her in such brief time. They marched up the stairs in the darkness, stopping when they reached the main door. It was high and painted black with silver curlicues carved on the sides. Before, Viko would have been impressed with how high he had to look to see the starry sky above the castle. Now, after about two months of living in Manhattan, he barely even noticed. The man standing beside him with his short cropped hair and metallic armor was definitely a vampire. Viko could recognize them by now. Their eyes glowed more, and so did their skin. If one really paid attention, they would see that the veins were more visible through the skin. Also, they had a different smell from regular humans. This was easier to pick up on for someone with an abnormally well developed olfactory perception. They smelled of something unnatural, dominated by the scent of blood. And one last thing, which was only true for newer vampires, was that their eyes always darted everywhere eagerly, fascinated by the details they could see with their improved sight. The man standing next to Viko fit all the criteria.

They went inside the castle, stepping into the huge stone entryway lit by several torches and a candle chandelier hung at the high ceiling. A painting of Charisma indeed adorned the wall in between two torches. Viko felt a dark hatred flowing through him. He tore his gaze from the painting. Lining the walls were small exotic trees from the south and some gold statues of various animals. The townspeople wouldn’t be too happy knowing this was how she wasted their collective money.

Many people lived in the castle, from what Viko had heard. The Nomads had often been in conflict with Payan, so they had wanted to know their enemy. Religious people—priests of the temple—lived here in the castle. Rich people and nobles had their own rooms here as well. And of course the royal family owned the place. Now Charisma and her minions had invaded.

Speaking of the devil, she walked down a spiral staircase and came to see him before the guard could even leave to go get her. She had probably seen him from the upper floor balcony. She wore a dress befitting of the rich girls of Payan; violet and lilac with a corseted top and a long flowing skirt whose superfluous fabric rustled with her every movement. She had a soft smile on her dark red lips and a look of feigned innocence in her violet eyes.

“Viko!” she spread her arms, making her gold bracelets dingle. Her long black hair was in a single braid, pinned around her head like a curled up snake. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed you, my friend.” Walking to him, her heeled sandals clicked on the marble floor and echoed throughout the pointlessly wide entryway.

“So you do know this man,” said the vampire guard, relieved.

“Of course I do. You may leave us now.” She dismissed him with a hand. Her fingernails were painted gold. She darted her eyes, lined with black kohl, back to Viko. “You look awful, dear.”

He wanted nothing more than to launch at her and propel her against the nearest wall, smashing her head. Then he could pin her there, strangle her, make her admit her crimes—everything she had done to him, his dragon, his family, his people. He wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine by biting a chunk of white skin off her neck ravenously. Then he could force her to summon the weapon with which she had slain Fraya, and drive it through her little, blackened, rotted heart.

Unfortunately he wasn’t strong enough. So he had to stick to his plan.

“Blake looks even worst,” he said.

Charisma flinched, her smile fading. “What are you talking about?”

“I found him lying unconscious out in the woods. Thought you might want to know. It isn’t safe out there.”

Viko knew his story was believable. For starters, he knew Blake wasn’t here. Moreover, he had listened in on a few of their conversations back when he was still on their side. He knew Blake’s condition, more or less. His race needed to take long naps every now and then and if Blake kept on ignoring that, he would end up in a very long coma, whether he wanted it or not.

He also knew that Blake and Charisma were somehow connected. If one’s life was threatened, that wasn’t exactly good news for the other. That showed on Charisma’s face at this very moment. She looked panicked.

“Are you telling the truth?” she asked.

He gave a slight nod. “I saw him.”

“And why are you even telling me?” She put a fist at her hip, staring at him doubtfully. “You made it very clear you’re not on our side anymore. Why the change of hearts?”

He had been expecting that question. “Because I’ve decided I’m tired of being weak, so I want you to turn me into a vampire. I’ll take you to Blake. You’ll change me in return.”

She eyed him up and down for a moment, chin raised. “All right. Lead the way.”

He had to repress a self-satisfactory smile. She had fallen for it. It was just so easy for her to believe that anyone would want to become one of her stupid vampires. They went outside, Viko taking a torch on the way. The man guarding the fortress politely opened the door for them. Viko brought her to the pathway leading north, where the town was less developed. There were only wooden houses, and everything was quiet at this hour. Kids were going to sleep, adults were relaxing. Wielding the torch, Viko was tempted for a moment to just shove it at Charisma’s face, hoping that it would burn and kill her. But that was too risky. She could just duck or evade it, moving with the speed he knew she was capable of, and his plan would be ruined.

As the stars shone above, Viko’s nerves twanged painfully. They were getting closer to the woods, where he knew a few dragons waited. He had communicated his intentions to Lord earlier. As kids, Pandra and Viko had spent so much time together with their dragons that they each had a connection. Just like Pandra had been able to communicate spiritually with Fraya, to an extent, Viko could do the same with Lord. He hoped he had brought enough dragons. This would be the perfect revenge.

They walked up the narrow road, and in the light of the torch they saw a black cat skittering across the path right in front of them.

“Ugh,” said Charisma, “I hate animals. They’re so stupid.”

You’re the one who’s stupid, Viko thought. Out loud he said, “Is there anything you do like, except for yourself?”

She grew thoughtful. “Not really, no.”

Well that wasn’t exactly a conversation starter. After a few more minutes of silent walking, filled by the sound of the wind rustling Charisma’s skirt, Viko thought he heard steps behind them in the distance. But when he whirled, brandishing the torch and narrowing his eyes, he saw nothing, not even a flicker of movement.

“Careful with that,” Charisma said with a faked smile. She was gesturing at the torch as he turned back to face the north. They could see the trees looming just a few more steps ahead. The path faded, replaced by the wilderness.

“Sorry. I thought I heard something.”

She glanced at him sideways through long black eyelashes. “Are you afraid of the dark, Viko?”

“I don’t know. Should I be?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Her voice was sweet like honey. “We’re just going to help Blake, aren’t we? And then you can be immortal. You can be on the winning side.”

The winning side? Viko wanted to laugh. Charisma certainly hadn’t seen what Skylar and the others were capable of. And with Lord and maybe a few other dragons having the ability to breathe fire, they could certainly overpower the vampires. Besides, if Charisma was dead, they would have no leader. Well, there was Liham, but that was another problem. He was anxious enough taking care of the current situation. He could hear the hard beat of blood in his ears as they stepped between the trees. Viko thought he saw the tip of a pointy red wing as he looked up. One of the dragons was taking flight.

“So? Where’s Blake?” Dried leaves crunched under Charisma’s sandals as she stopped.

Viko didn’t answer her. Holding his breath, he looked up again, alert. He recognized that red scaled dragon in the sky; his name was Eleni, and he had been trained by his father. He could breathe fire with dreadful precision. It happened so fast that Charisma didn’t see it coming. Viko leaped to the side, dropping the torch carelessly. He landed in some lush ferns and hauled himself up. Eleni roared and when Viko looked again, the space where Charisma had been standing was all flames.

The torch had rolled against a tree and made it catch in fire; at this rate, the patch of forest would be scorched. Viko didn’t care, though. It was all worth it. Charisma was dead. She had been burned, hadn’t she?