Blissful demise, p.7
Blissful Demise, page 7
The Guild Master for the Vampire Guild was a sallow faced European master vampire. He had a slender body and wiry looking white hair. He and every other bloodsucker in his section wore black. Guild Master Reed, the alpha werebear in charge of the Shifter Guild, looked gigantic compared to his colleagues.
In a few more weeks, Guild Master Hahn’s chair would be claimed when the final duel was fought. Most of the guildmembers believed Onvier would be the winner. Only the elves were happy about that prospect. They believed he would give them positions of power. Onvier had won his second duel and he’d been brutal to the warlock he’d defeated. The human had burned himself out, but the elf had melted him with acid to teach him a lesson. Efrem couldn’t care less who ran the Magic Guild. He wasn’t one of their guildmembers and the outcome of the duels wouldn’t affect him.
Lord Dallinar’s face lit up when the door opened. Efrem turned to see Xiara Evora step inside. She was holding a bottle in her hand, but slid it into her pocket at a signal from the fairy lord. She put her back to the wall to watch the proceedings.
Everyone in the chamber was tense, except for the Triumvirate. They were relaxed and in control as the alpha werebear spoke. “Concerning this year’s Energy Tax, my lords,” the Shifter Guild Master said in a deep, rumbling voice.
“What about it, Guild Master Reed?” Lord Graham asked. His amber eyes bored into the other shifter’s and his thick ginger eyebrows drew down in a frown. He was trying to intimidate the Guild Master into silence, but it didn’t work.
“The other Guild Masters and I are concerned that the tax is becoming too much for the inhabitants of Nox to bear,” Guild Master Reed said.
Lord Dallinar snorted out a laugh and received a cool look in return. “I’m sorry, weren’t you intending to be funny?” the fairy asked. His words were slightly slurred and he looked a bit wobbly. “You’re a werebear, after all.” A few nervous titters came from the crowd, but no one laughed outright.
“It wasn’t meant to be a pun, my lord,” the Guild Master said. Lord Dallinar waved for him to continue while shooting eager glances at the Guardian of Nox. It was obvious that he’d been drinking before their meeting had commenced.
“The Energy Tax is hard on everyone,” Lord Kreaton said before the werebear could continue. “Unfortunately, it’s necessary for the survival of Nox.”
“Our people can’t take much more of their energy being drained,” the dour Vampire Guild Master said in a heavy accent. “We are all becoming weak and we are suffering from starvation.”
“What do you expect us to do, Guild Master Latour?” Lord Dallinar asked. “Offer you our blood to snack on?” He giggled shrilly and his allies turned to glare at him for his lack of self-control.
None of the vampire guildmembers were amused. They whispered amongst themselves while shooting daggers at the fairy with their eyes.
Raum stepped in smoothly, proving the demon was an accomplished diplomat. “What my esteemed colleague is proposing is for the Energy Tax to be less...taxing this year,” he said.
“The population of Nox has grown more than usual this year,” Lord Kreaton retorted. “More magic is required to keep each District running. If we lower the Energy Tax, there won’t be enough magic to sustain everyone.”
His logic was undeniable and fresh mutters broke out. No one had a solution to this ongoing problem. Their other business had already been dealt with and there wasn’t much left to discuss, so the meeting drew to a conclusion.
Mr. Prager had been watching the members of the Magic Guild, trying to choose a candidate to approach. None of the alphas had come up with a magic user they could trust yet. Glaring in hatred at Xiara Evora on his way out the door, Efrem joined the flow of shifters who headed for their guildhall across the square.
He needed an ally who was more powerful than a mere witch or wizard. As much as he hated the idea, a fairy or an elf would be his best bet. How to approach one of them was the question. He knew there was discontent in their District, but it was dangerous to talk about treason. Too many rebels had been executed by the Guardian of Nox. Others had simply disappeared without a trace. Some had been found with wounds that were caused by magic or long, sharp blades. He’d even heard whispers that a couple had been turned into mummified looking shells.
Efrem figured it would be wisest to seek an ally among the fairies. Maybe he should find out where Padavion was hiding. The fairy’s wings had been melted by Onvier during their duel and she would no doubt be bitter and full of rage. She was still powerful despite being horribly disfigured. It might be possible to turn her hatred against their rulers.
A figure in a dark red cloak brushed past him and murmured an apology. Mr. Prager barely glanced at the man he assumed was a wizard. He did a double take when he saw amethyst eyes beneath his hood. He was far too handsome to be human, which meant he was fae. From the package he was carrying, he was just one of the low-level lackeys from the Magic Guild, so he wasn’t a worthy candidate as an ally.
Chapter Sixteen
HALLOWEEN WAS ONLY three weeks away when Eden entered the training room to see both Malachi and Sorcha training together. It was rare for the trio to be home at the same time. Her half-brother was holding the punching bag for Sorcha and was trying to taunt her into losing her cool. Tall, blonde and slender, Sorcha’s skin had a gold tinge to it. It looked like she’d been sunbathing, but it was just her natural skin tone. Her eyes were silver-gray and she was almost as beautiful as Eden. Few could match the allure of a succubus, so that was saying a lot.
“Your puny, sticklike arms are too feeble to throw a good punch,” Malachi said teasingly. “You’re barely making the bag move.” If he’d been human, he would have been sent flying when his colleague smashed her fist into the bag. Because he was supernaturally strong, it didn’t move at all.
Sorcha wore tight white workout clothes that showcased her stunning figure. She wore her hair up in a ponytail and it hung to the middle of her back. She was half sorceress and half undine, which was apparently a water spirit. The combination made her a powerful magic user. Lord Dallinar had locked a lot of her magic away, just like he’d done to her two colleagues. Even after binding them all to himself and to his cronies, they still didn’t trust their assassins. It was a good call, because the trio hated their rulers’ guts.
“Come on, Sorcha, put some effort into it!” Malachi said in mock exasperation.
Sorcha’s cool expression didn’t change, but she took a step back, held both hands out and sent a blast of air at the bag. The bag smacked the incubus into the wall and he fell to the floor in a daze. “Was that enough effort, Malachi?” the sorceress asked with a smirk.
“Can’t. Talk,” he gasped as he fought to get his breath back. “Ribs. Broken.”
“It serves you right, little brother,” Eden said in amusement. “You should know better than to tease Sorcha.”
“He’ll never learn,” their blonde housemate said with a sigh. They all healed fast, so his ribs would be fine again soon. “You look like you have something on your mind,” she added, studying the succubus’ face intently.
Eden waited for her brother to climb to his feet before speaking. “Have either of you seen any stone hounds scattered throughout the city?”
“Yeah,” Malachi confirmed, glowering at Sorcha and holding his aching ribs. “They’re kind of creepy,” he added.
“I’ve seen them, too,” the sorceress said. “They started showing up a few weeks ago, but I don’t know where they’re coming from.”
“Do you remember that old story about a stone hound hunting Night Cursed fae creatures before we were born?” Eden asked as they headed for the living room across the hall. It was furnished with comfortable tan colored leather couches and armchairs that sat in front of a fireplace. A heavy coffee table hulked in front of the couch.
“Vaguely,” Malachi said and took a seat on an armchair. The girls sat on the couch and various drinks appeared on the coffee table. Eden’s was wine, Malachi’s was soda and Sorcha’s was tea.
“I remember that story,” Sorcha said as she wrapped her hands around her mug. “Crowmon created it from the ruins of a wall near the black oak tree in the Vampire District. He brought the tree to sentience and Xiara Evora had to kill it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Malachi said when he recalled the story. “I heard the Guardian of Nox had to ride a stone horse to chase the hound down. It was one of Crowmon’s epic pranks.” He grinned at the thought of the deity’s numerous tricks he’d played on the inhabitants of the city. The jester had stopped tormenting people after a shrine had been built for him. He mostly stayed in his own territory somewhere to the west of the Fae District now.
“I think he’s up to his old tricks again,” Eden said. “Who else could have created the stone hounds?”
“What’s he planning to do with them?” Sorcha asked.
“Who knows?” the succubus replied with a shrug. “I saw him a few weeks ago,” she added as an afterthought.
“Where was he?” Malachi queried, lifting a perfectly formed eyebrow.
“In the Fae District in the suburbs where the human witches and wizards live.”
“What was he doing there?” Sorcha asked.
“Another witch had just been murdered,” she told them. “He was sitting on a rooftop, staring down at the body and giggling.”
Malachi grimaced and tapped his fingers against his glass. “Weird,” he decided.
“No kidding,” Eden agreed.
“Do you think he has something to do with the problems between the vampires and the witches and wizards?” Sorcha asked.
“I have no idea, but my gut says he’s involved,” Eden said.
“Halloween is getting close now,” Malachi mused. “I wonder if he’s going to pull another prank?”
Sorcha’s expression darkened at that prospect. “If he does, I hope it doesn’t involve the Night Cursed. We all know how hard they are to deal with around this time of the year.”
Her friends nodded in agreement. Their training had revolved around learning how to stalk and kill their targets rather than the history of Nox. All they knew was rumors they’d overheard during their missions.
“The second last duel to decide who will be the next Magic Guild Master is being fought tonight,” Sorcha said. “I hope that awful elf, Onvier, doesn’t win next week.” She wasn’t a member of the Magic Guild, but she was still a magic user and she didn’t want her kind to be treated badly.
“He will,” Malachi said with certainty, then gulped down some soda and put the glass down.
“How do you know he’ll win?” Eden queried.
“Because he’s smart, vicious and ruthless,” the incubus replied, ticking the traits off on his fingers. “I’ve heard enough rumors about him to know he won’t allow himself to be defeated. Especially after what he did to his first two opponents.”
Sorcha shuddered and rubbed the goosebumps that had appeared on her slender arms. “I heard he burned the fairy’s wings off,” she murmured.
“Yep,” Malachi confirmed. “He also melted the warlock. After the guy had burned himself out.”
“Great,” Eden muttered. “The Magic Guild will be run by an elf who likes to torture people. I’m sure he’ll get along well with the Immortal Triumvirate.”
They succumbed into morose silence at the prospect of yet another megalomaniacal tyrant being in charge of others in Nox. There was something about this city that allowed evil to fester and spread. It was like a disease had permeated every District. It was hard to believe Nox had only been created forty-nine years ago.
The sounds of a letter slithering beneath the front door filtered to the incubus and succubus. The sorceress’ hearing wasn’t as good as theirs. She only turned to the door when the envelope fluttered into the living room. It headed directly for Sorcha and came to a stop in front of her face. She plucked it out of the air, tore it open and read the contents. “I’ve got a job to do,” she said in an emotionless tone and stood up. She left her half-finished tea behind as she headed for the door. The cup vanished now that it was no longer required.
“Watch out for demons,” Malachi said with a smirk. “Are they still hunting for you?”
“Yeah,” the sorceress said in annoyance. “You kill one hell spawn and you end up having an entire pack of them on your back.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, then sauntered down the hall towards the stairs. She would need to gear up before embarking on her next mission.
Letters soon arrived for Eden and Malachi as well, calling them to do their duty. It was a busy night for the Assassin Guild, but they couldn’t exactly complain about it. The Immortal Triumvirate didn’t want anyone else to know about their existence, so they had to keep to themselves and refrain from mingling with normal civilians.
Chapter Seventeen
SEBASTIAN HAD THOUGHT long and hard about the advice Xiara Evora had given him. He knew he didn’t have the ability to break through Lord Kreaton’s shields. He’d been stalking the Triumvirate leader and had witnessed several assassination attempts. He’d seen arrows splinter, magic spells dissipate and knives shatter against the invisible protection that surrounded his enemy. It was obvious he needed an ally who could use magic. If Kade Sinclair was half fae and half warlock, then he would be a good candidate.
Another person who could be a useful ally was Efrem Prager. The werewolf hated the Immortal Triumvirate, but he despised Lord Graham the most. Sebastian had heard the stories about Mr. Prager’s only son being executed right in front of him. It had been a way for the alpha werewolf to punish a high-ranking member of the Shifter Guild. That had happened over two decades ago, but Efrem’s hatred had only grown over time. He hadn’t been executed for voicing his displeasure with the Triumvirate, but a lot of shifters listened to him.
Deciding to take a chance, Sebastian sprinted from the Vampire District to the City Square. He intercepted an aged, overweight witch as she struggled to get out of a carriage after several other younger witches. She was wearing an unflattering dark brown dress and ugly shoes. He snatched her up and carried her a few blocks away before she could squawk in surprise. He stared down into her watery blue eyes and ensnared her with his vampire magic within seconds. “What’s your name, madame?” he asked.
“Poppy,” she replied in a dreamy tone.
“I need you to send two letters for me, Poppy,” he said in a seductive tone that worked best on humans.
“I’ll do anything you want,” she replied eagerly and tried to press her pudgy body against his.
He kept her at a distance with his hands on her shoulders as he gave her some instructions. “Send a letter to Efrem Prager and Kade Sinclair, asking them to visit a warehouse in the Vampire District as soon as they can tonight,” he instructed her and told her the address. He could have sent the magical letters himself, since he seemed to be able to call on the magic that powered Nox without any trouble. He didn’t really trust it, though, so he’d opted to use the witch instead.
Poppy had to delve into her reserves of magic to obey him, which was going to weaken her. “I need to send two letters,” she said and two sheets of paper and a pair of quills appeared in front of her. Swaying on her feet from having her magic drained, she repeated the messages the vampire had given her and the words appeared in black ink as the quill went to work. Envelopes were created out of thin air to wrap around the letters, then they fluttered away, heading in two different directions. They would seek out their targets like homing pigeons. “What now, master?” Poppy asked.
“Now I’ll take you back to the City Square,” he replied. In a few moments, he returned the witch to where he’d found her. “You won’t remember any of this,” he murmured, then vanished before anyone could notice him. The witch blinked, shook her head, then stomped towards the guildhall where the magic users worked.
Both letters found their targets within minutes. Kade Sinclair was almost at the door to the Magic Guildhall and Efrem Prager was in his office in the Shifter Guildhall. They opened the letters and hope seized them both when they read the short notes. The message was from an anonymous person who wanted to speak to them about forming an alliance. Both men decided to take a chance and hurried to find a carriage that could take them to the Vampire District.
Kade lifted his hand to hail a carriage that was clattering towards him just as a shifter across the road lifted his hand as well. The carriage pulled to a stop and the werewolf crossed the street. “I have an urgent meeting to attend,” he said in a growl, trying to intimidate the cloaked magic user.
“So do I,” Kade said, not budging from his stance. The skeleton clicked its teeth in annoyance and gestured at the door as if inviting them both inside. A strange intuition came over the warlock. “I’m going to the Vampire District. Where are you heading?”
Efrem looked the wizard up and down, noting his dark red cloak. He saw purple eyes peering at him from beneath the hood and recognized him as the fairy who had brushed against him a few weeks ago. “I’m going there, too,” he said grudgingly. The letter he’d been sent had vanished, but he knew the address of where he wanted to go.
“Perhaps we can share the carriage,” Kade suggested. He had a strong feeling that he’d been meant to meet this shifter. He knew who Efrem Prager was, of course. The werewolf was a well-known member of the Shifter Guild. He attended most of the meetings that were held by the Immortal Triumvirate.
Mr. Prager nodded warily, then told the skeleton the location he wanted to go to. He climbed inside, but his companion didn’t give their driver his destination. Instead, he climbed inside and turned to regard the shifter. “Did you receive a letter from an anonymous person seeking to form an alliance?”
