CHAPTER 37: SECRETS WITHIN SECRETS
“Gods? Why would we need Gods? You, petty creatures, need shared delusions powered by your own belief to feel safe and secure. The beings you call Gods are mere symptoms of your weakness and desire to submit. My kind are not burdened with such failings. We do as we please and challenge any who’d stop us. Dragons know no Gods. We know only power!” - Excerpt from an interview with Zamug the Ever-Shining.
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Mina was utterly exhausted, she’d been at the temple when the wards fell, and the experience had been physically painful. Her aetheric senses rattled by a Seraph’s suffering, the scream of an angel shaking her very soul. Then before that could even settle down, she and every other combat-trained Priest had been commanded to arm and prepare for battle. A battle she and everyone else missed.
Now back at the Temple, after helping transport the captured Vampire and heal survivors, Mina wanted nothing more than to sleep. She’d found a secluded corner in one of the main halls of the temple, where she could be easily found if need be but might otherwise be undisturbed.
Leaning back on the bench, trying to get comfortable even in her chainmail, Mina looked at the two items beside her. Her mace, a well-crafted tool for breaking bones, and beside it, an ash-stained axe. She hoped to return it to its owner or Natalie as soon as possible, but that might take some time. Last Mina had heard, Cole had been gravely wounded, possibly even paralyzed, fighting the two Vampires. Morbidly, Mina wondered if Cole would ever be able to fight again. Even a talented Hierophant specializing in healing might not be able to fully fix that kind of damage.
Footsteps from nearby caught Mina’s attention. Yawning and trying to force down the exhaustion, she looked to see who was coming. Natalie turned a nearby corner and smiled when she saw Mina. Getting up, the Priestess waived to the Vampire and asked. “How are you?”
Natalie shrugged and scanned the hallway, looking for something. Her eyes fell on Cole’s axe, and she shrugged. “I’ve been worse, but not by much. I see Erik was right, and you have Requiem.”
Frowning, Mina looked at the axe with dawning understanding. A snort of tired amusement escaped her. “He named his weapon? Seriously?”
Defensively, Natalie snapped. “Yeah, what's wrong with that?”
Mina rubbed her eyes, thankful she’d taken off her gauntlets beforehand. “Nothing, just a little… never mind.”
Another voice, this one a low steady rumble, said. “I only named it at Natalie’s insistence.”
Shocked, Mina watched as Cole walked around the corner. Blinking in confusion, Mina whispered more to herself than anyone else. “Morri said you were paralyzed.”
An annoyed snort left the Paladin, and he walked over and picked up his axe. “I was, not anymore.”
A dozen questions filled Mina’s head, and she tried to figure out which to ask first. But as she gave Cole another look, she thought better of it. While he was awake and moving, a certain weariness was visible in the Paladin’s movements. Cole normally walked with a calm, almost graceful air, at least as graceful as such a huge man could be. Now he lumbered as if his balance and body were compromised.
Cleaning the axe with a rag pulled from a pocket, Cole buckled the weapon to his belt. Turning to Mina, he asked. “I know who the killer is, and I’m going to catch him. Are you awake enough to help me?”
Blinking rapidly, trying to process his words, Mina felt like she’d been doused in ice water. Bracing herself, she muttered. “Well, I am now.”
After another moment of thought, she asked. “Which Louon was it?”
Cole unfolded his cloak, which Mina hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying over one shoulder. Slipping the black cloth over his shoulders, he said. “The Grafling, but his family helped protect him.”
Looking down at her armored self, Mina sighed. “Well, I guess I’m ready to go; what's the plan?”
Cole picked up her mace and handed it to her. “We get Iron-teeth and the rest of the guards. Then we go to Louon Manor and ask them to surrender their wayward scion.”
Natalie and Mina exchanged worried looks, and the Priestess carefully asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? If we don’t have perfect evidence, we might ruin any chance of catching the Grafling.”
Considering that, Cole made a noise almost like a growl. “I suppose the city won’t take my word for it even after tonight’s events?”
An undignified snort escaped Natalie, and she hid her smiling face. Recovering slightly, she frowned and approached Cole, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you really alright? Tonight has been a lot. I know you like to smash through noble goatshit, but this seems… ill-advised.”
Cole sighed and rubbed his face. “I fear if I wait any longer, then Liam and his whole cursed family will slip through my fingers. Aristocrats are like eels, slippery and coated in slime.”
After hesitating, he shut his eyes and admitted what else was at work. “Graf Louon backed the Vampires at the ball; he’d sell out his city if it meant protecting his family. That sort of person cannot be allowed to operate freely, especially when they are partially exposed. Cornered animals and all that.”
Shrugging, Natalie glanced at Mina and said. “Well, if Louon is guilty of siding with Scapin, so are the Temples.”
Mina spluttered. “I”m sorry, what?”
Cole muttered. “I think it's more complicated than what we see. The servants of Uncle Trickster are key to these events, and they never do anything for a single reason. If I gambled, I’d set good coin on their being plans within plans. If they really thought the Tenth Temple was subverted, then they wouldn’t have told Morri everything. It’s a bigger bloody picture, and we are just looking at one part of it.”
Mina repeated her question, this time with a little iron in her voice. “What are you two talking about?”
The Paladin and Vampire glanced at each other and then explained to Mina what had happened. By the time they finished, the Priestess had settled back onto the bench and was utterly stunned. Looking up at her two allies, Mina asked. “How could the Temples be so stupid?”
Cole nodded in agreement. “I don’t think they were. We just aren’t seeing everything. Still, a meeting is due with this Troupe Master, but that might take some time.”
Considering his words, Cole added. “The Duchies hold the Temples in contempt and also fear them. The Priests of the Pantheon, in their eyes, are simultaneously deluded fools and incredibly dangerous zealots. A contradiction, I know, but typical of Vampire society.”
Natalie chimed in then. “That makes a strange sort of sense. They don’t want to admit weakness, and acknowledging the Priesthood’s power would be tantamount to doing so. Neither do they want to act like the only group capable of consistently killing them is harmless.”
Mina let out a snort of grim humor. “The enemy is simultaneously all-powerful and hopelessly weak.’ Yeah, that sounds like something from my studies on cults and corruption.”
Retracing their conversation back to Cole’s earlier words, Mina asked. “Why do you bring this up?”
The Paladin shifted his cloak and said. “It’s a subtle weak spot a clever Priest can exploit. Ego and pride define many Vampires. Give them a chance to prove their genius, and they will leap for it. Even the cannier of their kind might fall into that trap.”
Frowning, Natalie sighed. “It’s so stupid; last I checked, I wasn’t a megalomaniacal idiot. So why are all the other Vampires such melodramatic egotistical bastards?”
Cole’s lip quirked in amusement. “Empathy, humility, and traits we associate with being a true person don’t grow easily in a Vampire’s mind. What they had as a person can be maintained and even cultivated. But if those traits are ignored or actively discarded, they can wither shockingly fast. It’s part of the curses’ malice, refining a Vampire into a better predator.”
Natalie seemed sobered by those words, and Mina asked. “How do you know so much about them? This isn’t the sort of thing you learn hunting a Vampire, is it?”
Cole and Natalie shared a look, and the Paladin sighed. “Morri knows, so there is no point in hiding it from you. But I do ask you to keep this to yourself. I was… raised in the Duchies in a Vampire’s court. I got to know how they work from a very intimate perspective.”
Mina got the sense there was more to the story, and Cole wanted to use a word other than ‘raise,’ but she didn’t press the issue. “Well… that’s something, and it certainly answers some questions and summons a few more.”
Shrugging, a gesture that sent his cloak flapping, Cole said. “I think we should at least meet with Iron-teeth and get people to watch the Grafling and his family. I don’t want him fleeing, or at least I don’t want him to flee successfully.”
Natalie nodded and asked Mina. “I have something I need to check in the archives. Could you chaperone me while I’m there?”
Frowning, Cole looked to Natalie, but before he could say anything, she cut him off. “I don’t think being outside the Temple tonight would be smart of me. Scapin’s lies might have stuck in some people, and… well, the Alukah did surface at the Ball.”
The Paladin nodded, gave his lover a kiss, and left them. Natalie let out a surprised breath once he turned a corner and muttered. “He really must be not well; he usually fights me on things like this.”
A little worried, Mina asked. “What exactly happened at the Ball? What do you mean the Alukah surfaced?”
Natalie sighed and started walking to the Temple Library. “I really should just start writing things down so I can give my account to whoever wants it.”
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Natalie finished her abridged version of the night's events just as they arrived at the Library. Mina looked exhausted, not as bad as Cole, but still not great. Part of Natalie felt almost a little guilty for her comparative energy. She was ‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed’ as her father used to say thanks to her earlier meal. Feeding on the Scapin and Dietrich had been a gamble. Vampire cannibalism could be incredibly dangerous. But Natalie’s readings about the Alukah’s offspring and her own desperation pushed her to play the card.
The Library never shut, but it wasn’t staffed at this late hour, especially on the solstice. With Natalie’s help and insistence, Mina removed her armor and got comfortable in a reading chair. They were near a fireplace that Natalie was reasonably certain was an illusion giving off light and heat. Even if it wasn’t real, it was enough to put Mina to sleep. Which had, in part, been Natalie’s plan, not out of any malicious intent but because she saw how worn the Priestess was. Natalie couldn’t talk Cole into resting, but she could trick Mina into taking a lighter duty.
Natalie slipped through the dark shelves of the library, her vampire eyes letting her work easily in the shadows. A genealogical text, a tome on dragon slayers, and another on dragonbloods all made their way to Natalie’s table. The confrontation with the Louons had raised many questions, and Natalie hoped to answer them.
As she flipped through the old books, Natalie settled into a steady rhythm of research. She’d never considered herself the scholarly type before, but her recent experiences had changed that. It wasn’t that different from collecting and organizing town gossip, except that nobody got upset with you.
That thought stirred up some of her worries. Natalie didn’t know how the city would react to the night’s events, and a knot of worry had settled inside her. Over the past few weeks, Natalie had gained some hard-won acceptance in Vindabon, which might have dissipated all in a few terrible moments. Grumbling to herself, trying to push the worries away, Natalie almost looked forward to facing Scapin again. The lying goat-botherer had lots to answer for. Till then, researching her questions was a good distraction.
The genealogical text was the first Natalie went through. It was the same that had served her earlier, and she wanted to double-check a hunch. Lord Kronor had referred to Graf Louon as ‘cousin,’ and something about that stuck in Natalie’s mind.
Natalie didn’t take long to confirm it wasn’t just the dragonblood noble being elegant; Graf Louon and Lord Kronor were indeed cousins. Graf Isac Louon’s mother had been a Kronor. Flipping through the text, Natalie pulled up some of her mental notes. Kicking herself for not asking Cole to grab the pertinent papers from the Guard Tower as she did. Still, if her memory was good (and it usually was), then the timeline lined up. The misfortunes of House Louon started roughly fifty years ago. Right around that time, the Graf and his siblings reached adulthood.
Isac Louon hadn’t actually been the heir apparent. He had two older siblings, both dying oddly in their early thirties. Natalie guessed they were the first two to suffer the family curse. Tapping the book and marking her page, Natalie went to the text on dragonslayers. It proved remarkably useless, being mainly a collection of stories about dragonslayers. The only thing she did find of note was references to the healing properties of ‘wyrmbane blood.’ How a dragonslayer’s ichor could be used in medicine.
That fact had caught Natalie attention; the Louon’s blood had been incredibly powerful. Had she been sensing the magic at work? It seemed the most likely explanation. Moving onto the book on dragonbloods, she was slightly surprised to see references to healing blood as well. In theory, it made sense, but she’d gotten fairly close to Lord Kronor, and he had none of the nauseating spice the Louons’ blood had. Leaning back in her chair, Natalie ignored the temple bells ringing and mused on all this.
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It seemed obvious that something had gone wrong with House Louon, probably caused by their intermarrying with House Kronor. While she was no Magi, common sense and Vampire-instinct said mixing the blood of a Dragon and Dragonslayer might not have been a good idea.
As Natalie reviewed the night's event,. She remembered that Liam, the killer’s eyes, weren't golden like the rest of the family. She’d seen references to dragonslayers and dragonbloods, both inheriting ‘echos’ of draconic features like the gold eyes. So why didn’t Liam have them?
Returning to the genealogy book, Natalie looked for Liam and then for his mother. She found the deceased Battlemage and noted her family name. Flipping through the tome, she found Grafinling Margret Louon-Frieda’s noble House. The family tree of House Frieda wasn’t as well documented as Louon or Kronor. Still, the House did have an interesting origin. House Frieda claimed descent from Galehaut the Gilded, the same Dragonslayer House Louon traced themselves to.
There were enough generations removed, so Natalie didn’t think Liam was inbred. Still, you could never tell with aristocrats, or at least that’s what Barnabas used to say. Still, the whole thing smelled bad, and Natalie was reasonably certain it wasn’t just the cat-urine-treated books. Finishing up her notes, Natalie shut the tome and exhaled, driving dust from her nose. Much to her incredible annoyance, she couldn't sneeze anymore and was forced to blow her nose violently when exposed to dust, mold, or anything else nasty in the air.
Threads of thought suddenly snapped together, and Natalie stood up so quickly that she knocked her chair over. Moving inhumanly fast, she returned to the sleeping Mina, waking her up with a shake. Mina’s eyes blinked open, and she almost screamed. Natalie winced; she realized looming over a training Rest-bringer in the middle of the night wasn’t the smartest idea.
Backing away, Natalie held up placating hands and forced false-life into her body, in an attempt to look less like a red-eyed corpse coming for Mina’s blood. Mina had a hand raised, and a faint silver glow emanated from her palm; breathing heavily, the Priestess let her hand drop. “Do. Not. Ever. Do. That. Again.”
Natalie had the sense to look abashed. “Sorry, I didn’t think.”
Blinking away sleep, Mina looked around the empty library and asked, “What time is it?”
Shrugging, Natalie said, “A little past two, I think? But that doesn’t matter; I need to ask you a few things.”
Pulling herself out of the comfortable chair, adjusting her under-armor padding, Mina asked, “What?”
Natalie held up the notes she’d taken and asked. “The two people with House Marks were sick, right? Like something was seriously wrong with them, but they were being treated?”
Mina nodded, a little confused but glad she wasn’t being attacked by a Vampire. “Yes, they had mold infections, probably from the tunnels. Why are you so excited about that?”
Plopping down in a chair nearby, Natalie set out her notes on the table between them. “Dragonslayer blood has been used to treat demonic taint; it's part of the stories. House Louon has also been doing charity work with healers, helping the poor get medicine. It’s all connected!”
Squinting at Natalie’s papers, with only the phantom fireplace to provide illumination, Mina muttered. “You are rambling; what do you mean?”
Clicking her tongue in excitement, Natalie laid out her theory. “We’ve been wondering why the house marked were so loyal. Well, I think the Louons were treating them. Using their blood as medicine, keeping the hellspawn mold at bay. Fear of having your body and soul devoured by a demonic parasite is the sort of thing to get people to cooperate.”
Pausing and thinking about the killer’s victims, Natalie added. “Especially if you have loved ones also infected and needing treatment.” In a flat, almost sick tone, Natalie added. “It’s the perfect way to control people. It feels like something the Vampires would do.”
A shiver of revulsion played across Mina’s face. “Why wouldn’t the infected just go to a Temple for help? We would gladly heal them!”
Natalie chewed on her lip; she’d gotten better at doing the old nervous habit without hurting herself. “What would you do with people utterly ravaged by the spores? Like people Cole and the guards encountered in the warrens?”
Mina frowned and made a face. “In cases like that… well, ending their suffering is the only option.”
Nodding as she’d expected that, Natalie leaned back and thought about Cole’s nightmarish encounters in the warrens. “The Cultists had no love for the Temple. Something that demon probably helped inflame. So… I think the Louons offered an alternative, hope, and healing in exchange for service.”
Thinking about that, Mina sighed. “Well, if that were the case, it would explain why Liam Louon knew about the shrine in the tunnels. Fixed-stars, Natalie, this is worse than we thought. If the Louons have known about the Demon and used it to recruit lackeys, then… Oh, Gods, that's utterly insane. Who’d be crazy to even try something like that?”
Natalie gave Mina a flat stare. “A family whose elders are all nuts thanks to mixing two incompatible bloodlines?”
At the Priestess’s perplexed expression, Natalie explained her theory about House Kronor and the Graf’s mother. Mina let out an exhausted sigh and muttered. “Wonderful; what do we do next?”
Looking at the worn Priestess, Natalie sighed. “I have some ideas, but I think you need to sleep. Preferably somewhere other than the library.”
Mina shrugged and sighed. “Fine, fine, can I trust you to stay in the Temple and not cause any problems?”
Natalie nodded and privately thought. ‘Yeah, I won’t even need to leave the Temple to conspire with another Vampire.’
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Back in the apartment, Natalie sat across from Isabelle’s skull. She’d fed a drop of her blood to the ghost and was waiting for her to awaken. It didn’t take long; Isabelle materialized in a nearby chair with a thoughtful look.
The elder Vampire studied the younger one for a moment before asking. “So, how was the ball?”
A bitter laugh escaped Natalie; she really needed to write things down to spare herself from repeating things. Recounting the night's events for what felt like the hundredth time, she explained everything that happened.
When Natalie finished, Isabelle just sat in stunned silence. Part of Natalie decided seeing the arrogant old monster speechless was her reward for surviving the night. But it couldn’t last, and a low, angry hiss started to bubble in Isabelle’s throat.
“HOW ARE THEY SO STUPID?” she snarled, doing an excellent impression of a feline with its tail caught in a door.
Shrugging, Natalie said. “The Temple overestimated their capacity and paid for it.”
Shaking her head with annoyance, Isabelle corrected her student. “No, not the Temple, the Duchies! Sending two Vampires to infiltrate the city hoping to capture you and Cole? Do they think it's a coincidence the League has resisted our kind for centuries? Stupid, stupid ash stains! To be a Vampire is to defy the gods and their petty rules! But we can never forget the Gods’ power and how viciously they enforce those rules. This whole thing was idiotic beyond belief! All it will do is-”
Isabelle stopped herself and considered something. “This Scapin, you are sure he knew about Cole and was the one in the oubliette?”
Natalie nodded. “Reasonably so; it's the only thing that currently fits the evidence.”
Crossing her arms and resting her head in a palm, Isabelle mused on something before speaking. “There are certain… shadow treaties between the League and Duchies. The two empires have decided they prefer familiar enemies over new threats. Neither side truly pushes the other out of fear of upsetting the balance of power. The Sultanate and Tzardom would both gleefully attack if either empire weakened.”
Frowning at all this, trying to keep the details straight, Natalie asked. “Are you implying someone is trying to push the League and Duchies into a full-scale war?”
Isabelle tented her fingers and nodded. “I am. This sort of overt sloppy provocation isn’t how the Ashen Agents act. They’d have hired mercenaries or used the city government against you. Never acting so openly or flagrantly. This seems less like the Duchies trying to grab you and more like someone trying to get you for themselves and then blame the Duchies.”
“What about Dietrich then?” asked Natalie. “He’s a Scarlet Knight and loyal to a fault. I have a hard time seeing him work against the Archduke.”
The elder Vampire snorted in derision. “The Scarlet Knights are supposed to be smart enough to follow orders, not question them. A talented liar with the right documents and signets could talk a Scarlet Knight into watching the dawn. Dogmatic loyalty comes with a cost.”
Gnawing on that worrying suggestion, Natalie sighed. “Well, thank you for the insight, but that's not what I wanted to discuss. Isabelle, what do you know about Dragonbloods and Dragonslayers?”
Isabelle raised a single pale eyebrow and asked. “What could you possibly want to know about them?”
Natalie explained the mess with House Louon and her theory about the mixed bloodlines. Isabelle, at first, seemed disinterested, but as Natalie kept speaking, she perked up. A keen intensity seemed to boil off Isabelle as her labyrinthian mind dissected the information.
Leaning back in her chair, Isabelle smiled. “Oh, this is an interesting puzzle; thank you for sharing it with me.”
Before Natalie could respond to the atypical show of good grace, Isabelle had gotten up and was pacing around the apartment. Occasionally passing straight through furniture, her ephemeral body uncaring of the obstacles. “A magical ailment caused by the intermingling of anathemic inheritances? Yes, yes, that has precedent. So remind me, the killer is the only one without golden eyes, correct?”
Natalie nodded, and Isabelle beamed. “And his mother was a very distant relative of the same dragonslayer stock?”
Again, Natalie nodded, watching as the undead genius reached her conclusion. “House Louon introduced an ailment to their family through their own greed. I expect they thought mixing the two bloodlines would enhance their powers. Instead, they incurred the dragon’s wroth. Dragons are creatures of power and dominance; it's what defines them. They are magically linked to the idea of power, much like spirits, seraphs, and demons are linked to their own concepts.”
Pausing to look at Natalie, Isabelle disassembled her ideas into something more understandable. “The two ancestries are at war with each other, their magical echos in contradiction. Dragons are inherently vain, egotistical beasts who dismiss mundane mortals as petty nuisances.”
Natalie resisted the urge to comment on the irony of a Vampire calling someone vain and egotistical. Instead, she let Isabelle continue the lecture and tried to absorb as much as possible. “So when a mere mortal slays a Dragon, it clashes with their entire worldview, contradicting the godhead every Dragon is connected to. So to rationalize this, the draconic godhead gifts the slayer with power, reasoning that if they are strong enough to slay a dragon, they must be something more than mortal. A dragon trapped in petty flesh if you will. The godhead seeks to ‘correct’ this mistake and give some of the dead dragon’s power to the slayer.”
“But when that inheritance meets with a true dragon’s blood? Things get interesting then; they’d war for metaphysical dominance, tearing at the person's body, mind, and soul in a constant internal struggle. The hybrid might reach a balance, but that would eventually collapse. Probably when the strength of youth finally faded.”
Rubbing her head, Natalie tried to rephrase everything Isabelle had said. “So dragon blood and dragonslayer blood fight inside the person. They can handle it when they are young and growing, but once they become true adults, the balance falls apart, and parts of them start to break?”
Isabelle actually smiled. “You were paying attention! Good, good, I have more hope for you, my student. As I think about this, some bitter parallels exist between these ‘Louons’ and your mother’s family. Both selectively bred themselves like livestock, trying to improve themselves with each generation.”
Natalie grimaced; the Strixscion breeding clan wasn’t something she was eager to think about. Trying to return to the slightly more pleasant topic of brutal murders, she asked, “Was Liam an attempt to correct this mistake then?”
Nodding, Isabelle sat down again, apparently finished with her excitement. “It makes sense; they probably hoped to change the balance with new blood of the same source. But considering your killer lacks the family features and has been killing people from a young age, I suspect they went and did the exact opposite. They just went and made it worse with this poor wretch. Honestly, when they put him on the gallows, I hope someone examines the corpse. There is so much to learn from such an unusual specimen.”
Exhaling in annoyance, Natalie remarked. “The only problem is getting him there. If the Louons have been insane enough to protect him all this time, I doubt they’ll stop now. We need proof strong enough that no one can countermand it.”
Tapping her lips with consideration, Isabelle snapped her fingers. “Ah, yes! My darling recently fought a Demon, correct? A Demon you think these petty wyrmbane spawn were aware of?”
Natalie answered. “Yes, we think they were using the offer of treating its corruption to control people,”
A snort of bitter laughter escaped Isabelle. “Besieging a fortress by attacking its walls is idiotic. It's so much easier to slip through the pipes or fly over the walls. The Louons will be expecting accusations about their murderous scion. So don’t strike them there. Expose this foolishness with the Hellkyn and breach their defenses.”
Slowly nodding in understanding, Natalie couldn’t help but smile. “Oh…. OH! Yes, I see your point. That just might work; I’ll suggest it to Cole when he returns.”
A flicker of fragility showed in Isabelle. “His nature… is it really exposed?”
Grimacing, Natalie shrugged. “Probably, if the Duchies know he’s alive, then time is limited even more so with this ‘Troupe Master’ aware of things. I don’t think the Homunculus Knight will stay dead for much longer.”
A low hiss escaped Isabelle, and she seemed to consider her words. “You aren’t the first person to discover Cole’s truth after my death. Those others didn’t react nearly as well as you did. I fear my darling Cole has some very deep wounds in this part of his soul. He hides them well but being rejected and cursed as an abomination is painful. Cole has tried to find himself a life twice outside of being a Paladin. Both times failed horribly because of what he is.”
A little stunned, Natalie whispered. “He never… he never said anything like that.”
Isabelle let out a sad noise. “I’m fairly certain he represses the memories to an extreme degree. He used to talk to me, sharing himself even when I couldn’t respond. I…”
The elder Vampire let out a pained sigh. “I hope you can provide more help than I could, especially with what might come next.”
Natalie tried to reach out for Isabelle’s hand, an almost unconscious gesture of empathy. Her hand passed right through Isabelle, and a choked laugh escaped the ghost. “I appreciate the sentiment, but such gestures are meaningless until I get a new body.”
Wincing, Natalie said. “Thank you for your help.”
Isabelle managed a jerky nod and rasped. “Thank you for… for speaking with me. Thank you for being a friend, Natalie.”
The ghostly Vampire dissipated then, fading back to her skull sepulcher. Leaving Natalie alone, waiting for Cole to return. A conflicted sigh escaped Natalie; in some ways, it had been easier to hate Isabelle. Now that they had a connection… well, little in Natalie’s life was simple, including this relationship.
Getting up, Natalie found her new carving tools and a block of wood she’d bought on her date with Cole. Finding a clean space, she got to work carving a wolf. She didn’t know what Werefolk funerals were like, but she’d make sure Jaks had a grave gift from her.
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Isabelle floated in a lake of blood, staring up at a pitch-black sky, trying to wrestle with her feelings. The cold scheme to wrestle Natalie’s body from her was becoming less and less doable. Not because Isabelle wasn’t progressing in worming her way into the young Vampire’s mind. No, the problem was Isabelle’s resurgent conscience. Cole had resurrected the withered old thing, and now Natalie was busy nursing it back to health. Leaving Isabelle in the worst possible state a Vampire could be in, she was hesitating.
When isolation and fear had kept her at the brink of madness, Isabelle had never doubted the idea of stealing Natale’s body. The younger vampire had been a threat, taking Cole from her and endangering her survival. It hadn’t even been a question if she should do this before. But the insidious little tavern wench had reversed the deck on Isabelle. Natalie wasn’t the one being sculpted as Isabelle saw fit. Instead, Isabelle was slowly being influenced by Natalie.
The whole thing painfully reminded Isabelle of her early days with Cole and how she’d nearly locked Cole away in some dungeon out of fear. Centuries of cold, clinical aloofness had been undermined and ruined by the stupidly kind man. The weakness he’d exposed in her was utterly terrifying, enough to make her consider abandoning her magnum opus.
Now the same conundrum faced Isabelle, would she keep her armor of ice intact and achieve her goals? Or would she let another lesser being slither into her heart, doing untold damage in the process?
Floating up on a pillar of floating blood, Isabelle came to her feet and paced around her prison. She’d defied the gods in creating Cole, survived the Archduke’s wrath, and even escaped death. Now the only thing standing in the way of her triumph was a dull throb of guilt. If she wanted to truly take Natalie’s body, then she’d need to destroy the girl and warp her darling’s memory. Isabelle could do both, but the question was, would she?
Shutting her eyes, wishing the endless lake of blood beneath a dark sky would disappear, Isabelle made her choice. “Natalie likes to prattle on about compromise. Well, I guess I should offer her one.”