A gentle autumn breeze rustled the falling leaves of the world Anthony had taken them to, the sweet scent of apples tickling Rachel’s nose as the Legend took them further into the woodlands. The snapping of branches and crunching of dying leaves tickled her ears, the wind pressing her blue dress against her figure as they walked.
She gave the man time to collect himself, eclipse eyes occasionally drifting to him on their path through the spaced-out trees, seemingly knowing the terrain. The soft hums of a young woman came from not too far in the distance, accompanied by the clattering of kitchenware, presumably their destination.
Anthony rubbed the back of his neck, looking more uncomfortable than Rachel had ever seen him, not that that had been long. Whatever it was, it affected him on a level he wasn’t accustomed to speaking about; reading the mood, she wasn’t about to make it harder on him, so she let him work his way up to it.
Her focus lifted to the beams of white lunar energy that illuminated the somber, quiet forest; she could hardly hear any animals or creatures in the area, leaving the place sounding quite unnatural and compressing, yet oddly serene.
After a few minutes, Anthony shivered and made his first comment since they started their journey, avoiding eye contact. “I… just want to preface this with the understanding that Amelia will suffer if you leak any of what I’m about to tell you.”
Rachel followed his gaze to just below her upper arm, her sleeveless blue dress revealing her bare skin, where the tattoo teeth marks of the Cerberus Triplets were visible in the bright moonlight. He drew attention to the back of his hand, showing the mark of the black dove.
“Okay,” she responded, not making light of the warning as she returned her wide field of vision to the haunting forest, a light mist now floating down from their upward climb into the surrounding hills. “Nia isn’t going to break your trust. It’s just you and me, and you know I’m not the type of person to run my mouth. What are you wrapped up in?”
He puffed out his stress and rubbed at his watery eyes, fighting the surge of emotion that must have gripped him after holding all of it in over the last few hours. Sucking in his bottom lip, he cleared his throat.
“…The short version… I grew up with this girl back in Ireland, from my kid years to my teens, and we… had this… relationship, I guess you could call it. She started it,” he prefaced, finding it hard to keep his hands still while rubbing his forearm. “You could say that she enchanted me, and it… wasn’t exactly endorsed by my family. Her name is Ciara.
“Everyone is more or less upset because I did have an affair with her a few weeks after Amelia and I were together. I told her about it immediately, and she… took it surprisingly well, which came partly due to her own guilt about having cancer, I believe. Nothing else has come from it since… until now.”
He gulped and slowed to a stop, trying to keep eye contact and not get distracted by her hair, drawn back by the gentle gusts. “At the funeral… Ciara came to me and… asked for my help. Her stipulations are that only one other person can know the facts of this… contract. It cannot be Amelia. I’m… ashamed to ask… but I’m not sorry. You’re the one person I believe I can trust to, mmh… to help me through this, even if it isn’t fair to pull you into this situation.”
Head tilting to the side, Rachel did him the service of looking to the side, keeping her face neutral while pondering his situation from multiple angles. His words touched something within her, though; she was the only one he could rely on. Anthony certainly had a way of making a girl feel special, and the true nail in the heart was that he was always sincere.
“Hmm. You can’t think I’d miss your word choice, ‘asked for my help, stipulations, contract.’ This isn’t her asking. It is a demand that you morally cannot turn down, yet there is another moral burden compressing you from another side…”
Her expectant gaze returned to his pain-filled lime-green eyes, glistening with the tears he’d wiped away. “From reading your Legends last week, am I to assume Ciara is the Legend of Gráinne, who was arranged to marry Fionn mac Cumhaill… The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Gráinne tale. And who is Fionn?”
Anthony winced, clipped fingernails sinking into his forearm as the mist rolled in around them. “My uncle, who taught me everything I know… It’s neither of their fault, though; it’s mine… It’s all my fault. Balor, a cyclops-like demon in Irish mythology, and… she found out that he has a few geasa on him…
“Geasa… which is plural, I assume… and on Balor, not Ciara? Obviously, they aren’t curses, since Maria said the one on you isn’t one,” Rachel whispered, gaze drifting to the dove on the back of his hand. “I could guess from what I read on the rabbit hole I went on, diving through each of your legend’s tales, but why don’t you enlighten me.”
Goosebumps ran along his muscular arms as he tensed and shivered, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. He held up his hand to display the dove.
“A geis is like a seal or magical promised destiny… You can have multiple on you, like Balor somehow obtained, or only one—goddesses or prolific rulers generally have the power to cast them.
“And… typically, they are treated, mmm, somewhat like a curse… only with heavy blessings and benefits: prevent something from happening, abstain from some action, or do something specific, and you will gain some kind of blessing… break it, and the curse will be… hellish.”
Rachel leaned against a tree, glancing left at the hazy outline of a log cabin past the mist. “And if you do as it instructs, then there will be an amazing outcome, such as, say… Amelia’s guaranteed safety and recovery? I can see why you weren’t worried about her and rushed to join this operation. And… what happens if you fail, and how long do you have?”
Reaching up to rub his mouth, Anthony puffed out his cheeks and eased out his back against the hard bark of the tree he was leaning against. “If I do what I’m asked, Amelia will be healthy. Her cursed cancer will be essentially sealed by the geis. She will recover over the next few days, and I’ve texted her family to come to be with her.”
“That’s… not what I asked,” Rachel sighed, crossing her arms and giving him a worried frown. “I can’t understand how you feel… the lengths you’d go to for Amelia, and… now, apparently, Ciara is tugging at your heart, as well. You’re trying to find a solution that is beneficial to both, no matter the stress it puts on you… but what happens if you break that geis?”
Lips becoming a line, he shrugged his shoulders and scoffed, “It doesn’t matter because I will find a way to… stop all this shit from happening. I mean, we’re practically already set on going to Ireland anyway to help Arthur and Fiona. All I need is for you to support me to get it done—I need to find some way around Balor’s geasa within fifty days… without involving Ciara being forced to become a queen.”
Rachel felt knots tightening in her back; he was in denial and didn’t want to even consider the possibility of not fulfilling his oath, which meant it was bad. In reality, it would need to be a powerful curse in order to counter the cancer and protections he’d want on his fiancée.
“Okay… fifty days is the time limit you’re under. And not becoming a queen is an interesting condition. I’ve done a lot in a short period of time, but it would help if I knew what you had to do to fulfill this ‘destiny’ Ciara put you on. What are Balor’s geasa?”
Anthony cleared his throat, discomfort sliding away as they moved on to things he could actually focus on. “Balor is too strong to handle in open combat due to the geasa that empower him. Essentially, he grows stronger the longer that the following conditions are met:
“One, so long as the nation recognizes no Irish King and Queen, then Ireland will be isolated from the rest of the world in a barrier of winding mists. This is the reason why no one can make it out or inside the country without invoking… special methods.
“Two, he cannot lose a battle against the nation, so long as he does not face both King and Queen. However, that does not mean he cannot draw a conflict, or they can refrain from entering a ‘battle’ to invoke that clause, which is a loophole that the Irish are using.
“Three, he can only open his eye once a day for one minute, which blasts whoever his gaze lands upon with intense amounts of Death Energy. It is basically a one-shot kill. Luckily, illusions and obstruction abilities have worked thus far to… dampen the effects.
“Four… so long as the king and queen have not consummated their love for one another on their wedding night, and no royal heir is within the Irish Queen’s womb, then Balor cannot be truly defeated. Apparently, the first night together will spark the magic,” Anthony mumbled at Rachel’s lifted eyebrow, knowing how hard it was to actually have a baby from a one-night stand from online searches.
“Also, only by the queen’s hand, while with child, can he truly be slain,” Anthony finished, making Rachel roll her eyes.
“Uh-huh. Only a pregnant woman can kill the death-eye laser cyclops. Someone sounds a little too insecure about winning a fight.”
“Haha. Not wrong, I guess,” he sighed. “Finally, five, all these conditions must be made known to the whole of Ireland’s current residents… which doesn’t include tourists or visitors, and was done by a communication spell that… frankly, is too powerful to be used just after The Oscillation. It had to be planned for decades in advance.”
Rachel rubbed the back of her neck with a strained laugh. “Oh, just another group like the Scarlet Hand or brought up by the Scarlet Hand… Great. Is that all? I mean, I guess giving yourself an obvious weakness like that is big, but everyone would need to agree to it, wouldn’t they… a king and queen of Ireland. Shit. I can see a few loopholes already, though.” She gave him a forced smile. “And you think we can do that in… fifty days? Dammit, Anthony. I’m a fighter, not a matchmaker.”
He rubbed between his eyes. “Ciara is… capable of being a queen, and has a lot of pressure on her head to marry my uncle, who is the Legend of Fionn mac Cumhaill. She views him as a father, not like… that, and those conditions require her to get pregnant and deliver the final blow. I… am a king candidate, but I can’t betray Amelia… Yet, millions of people’s lives are on the line.”
Turning to pace, he threw up his arms, releasing everything that was on his heart. “I know that if it were between Amelia and a million random people, I’d choose Amelia without a second thought, and I know I’m a bastard for doing it, but I wouldn’t regret it… I’d feel guilty, and I’d make whoever made me make that choice suffer, but she is everything to me. The issue is…”
“Ciara,” Rachel whispered, feeling the urge again to try and comfort him as he spiraled; it would be like someone telling her to choose between her parents, or perhaps even stronger, considering how strongly Anthony cared for the two women. “It’s not just one million random people… It’s millions of random people, your family, and Ciara.”
Anthony’s pain-filled eyes shifted to her. “I… can’t lose either of them—this is the only way I can even attempt to make things right,” he said, holding up the black dove tattooed on the back of his hand.
“You’re the only person I know of who… can help me make this happen. You’re amazing, Rachel—it’s stunning to see how well you’ve navigated these waters… and I know I shouldn’t involve you in my problems… but I have to ask,” he cried, looking up at the foggy sky and letting out all of his shame. “I have to ask.”
“Mmm.” Vision falling to the leaf-covered forest floor, Rachel let the silence hang for a time as the sobering cry for help shivered down her spine to her tail. Another consideration she had to make was how Fiona might feel about this news; her whole family lived in Ireland, after all, and now that she had the full context of what was happening inside, she knew the Fairy would be anxious to fly right inside to protect her family.
“…Ciara still loves you—she feels betrayed—and you still love her… yet you love Amelia, as well.” Looking into his tortured face, she sighed. “What guilt are you carrying that is weighing you down this much, though? Yes, Ciara means a lot to you, but… you chose Amelia. Do you regret that?”
Sagging against the tree again, Anthony searched the scattered stars, twinkling through the mist that momentarily thinned before hiding them away.
“No,” he flatly stated. “But I care about both of them; they’re both on my mind… I think about them all the time, and I hate that I can’t give Amelia everything. Yes, I chose and choose Amelia… But if Ciara is in front of me, asking for help… I can’t deny her. I’m a letch. How can I be worthy of either of them if I can’t give either my everything? I think about it all the time… and I regret everything.”
Rubbing his face, he forced a laugh, making Rachel’s heart go out to the conflicted redhead, clawing at his own heart and imperfections as the weight of not only his world but of Ireland fell onto his shoulders.
“Amelia should be cured. Maria could make it all better… but because of my damn Legend, she’s in that bed, fighting for her life every second. Because of me, Ciara is put in an impossible position; she’s forced to marry someone she sees as a father, and he sees her as a daughter… I’m the common denominator. Me. It is all because of my Legend. I have to get stronger—I have to make it right.”
Ears folding forward, Rachel could feel the pressure winding around her own heart at the emotion in the redhead’s voice, and she almost wanted to walk over to pull him into a hug, which was very unlike her; maybe it was because she wasn’t used to men being so vulnerable, yet willing to take on so much responsibility. It kind of felt like he was trapping himself.
Restraining herself, she kept her distance and tried to separate herself from the situation, dissecting how he felt rather than feeding into it.
“False logic… but I can understand where you’re coming from… You can’t put the burden of being forced into this Legend on yourself, as much as anyone else can for something outside their control… I have to have control and have a solution. I get it…”
Anthony remained passive, shaking his head, and her ears twitched as his heart jumped like pounding drums. [Beastial Instincts], [Divine Beast Empowerment], and [Mental Acceleration] were not her friends right now. Her sensory Feats drew her in and helped her relate, which was exactly what they’d done regarding her relationship with Alexa. Only, this was far more visceral with the man right in front of her.
Even from this distance, his hot skin felt like a radiator, her wide field of vision catching every twitch with his expressed emotion. Her mind and heart were a whirlwind of thought and emotions she’d never experienced before, and [Strategic Mind] was all too willing to inform her why: she’d never had a guy trust her so much and rely on her before, much less break down in front of her.
Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. She wanted to help, and he needed someone to release this stress gripping his soul—to help him with this mess. Was she the best person to provide that help? Yes. There wasn’t anyone else that could help him.
She looked into his shame-filled, liquidy green eyes as he glanced away, gripping his elbow with frustration. “I was making progress… I had solutions, and then… and now Ciara is suffering alone, trapped, and feeling isolated… like I hate her.
“How can I fix it? I can’t see Amelia or talk to her—I can’t tell her—or both of them will die. How can I cut contact with her… even if she’ll be safe? I know she’ll blame herself… What am I supposed to do?”
Breathing out the tension in her own lungs, Rachel whispered, “Exactly what you did. I know you’re looking for someone to help carry the load. I have your back, okay? Just focus on what you can. I’ll take care of it.”
Anthony stammered out a caustic laugh, finally accepting her embrace, his strong arms closing around her upper back. “You’re already carrying Scarlet and so many other things… Dammit. Dammit. I should be helping you with your load.”
Chuckling a little, Rachel used her ear to flick under his chin, making him stiffen and let go for her to pull away. She gave him an aggressive smirk.
“The world’s gone to hell, Anthony. Do you think I would have been able to do half the bullshit I’ve done without the members of Omen and the talents each of us have? If the roles were reversed, you’d just do me a solid and help a hare out. Cool? Now, we gonna kick this Legend Quest’s ass or let guilt bury us?”
Red cheeks puffing out, Anthony forced a laugh and used his shirt to clean his face. “Son of a bitch. You really are made of nails, Puffy Tail. Thanks for having my back. I don’t suppose that big brain of yours already has a plan in motion?”
Rachel shot a dubious smirk his way as she walked toward the misty cabin. “Is that a hit on my head being out of proportion, or am I reading too much into that?”
“Phew! Haha. I thought you’d focus more on the puffy tail part than the head; nice redirect.”
“Oh, no,” she snickered, finding her hands behind her back again with a sly, side-long look at the Legend, “that was most definitely a slip on your part, but why attack the obvious angle? I’ve got a nice ass, and I’ve seen the looks guys give my backside. Facts are facts.”
“Right, that ultra-wide field of vision,” Anthony mused, rebounding with a vengeance as he compartmentalized his emotions for the tasks ahead. “Facts are facts… A tail with a dress certainly does leave an impression in the wind,” he casually noted, almost making Rachel trip.
“Damn! Not bad, lover boy,” Rachel chortled. “On the more serious side… we’ll make it work. Ireland is already on the schedule. We can talk about details that we can share on the way back. We’ll figure something out.”
He smiled at the cabin as the door opened, and a young, blonde-haired woman exited, wearing an apron. “You’re too good, Rachel… Annabel, it’s Anthony; I assume you felt us getting near your cabin?”
The woman showed a crooked, somewhat yellow-toothed smile, her ratty hair pulled into a bun with a ribbon. “Fireweed, you’re back!” she chimed, hopping down her steps to jog over to them. “And… you brought another weird woman. Great…” she finished, upbeat voice cheery but her undertone far from it. “Who is this showy hare? What a pretty blue dress. I hope you didn’t eat any of the gray mushrooms that grow on northern fallen trunks.”
Rachel lifted an eyebrow at the sudden, off-handed hostility. “No? Uh, don’t mind me; we’re just friends. I’ll just be over there, Fireweed,” she mumbled, scooting to a tree a distance away. “Have your way with him, sweetie.”
“Oh? I could have sworn I felt two people sharing their hearts… Maybe I imagined it,” she giggled. “Friends. Friends. Mhm! So, Fireweed, I finished my brew for you. Some nasty stuff to fight that little infection to that blood you gave me. I hope your brother recovers swiftly!”
Brother… right, Rachel internally laughed at the doting woman, no doubt the hag or witch of this forest that Anthony had charmed. She gave the pair a parting glance while checking herself out of the conversation. I don’t know how Amelia isn’t more defensive and threatened… The dude is a literal chick magnet, and he isn’t even using his Love Spot.
Waiting for them to conclude their business, Anthony expertly maneuvered his way out of the dubious creature’s lustful claws, taking the potion she’d brewed for him. And once on their path back through the forest to meet up with Nia, she got the low-down on the Quest details.
Apparently, the hag wasn’t entirely bad and mainly fed off sexual desire, which… had its problems in the nearby town regarding infidelity and making quite a mess. Selvaria had wanted to dump gasoline on the hag and watch her burn, but he saw a way to tone things down with a more… entrepreneurial method, having the hag provide ‘lovers’ counseling, which, evidently, had its benefits for the townsfolk.
Rachel couldn’t help but shiver at the minefield Anthony had navigated; their party’s entry into this town had been a tense one, with the men and women being more than a little aggressive in some uncomfortable ways. Once again, Selvaria wanted to burn down the whole town, not doing well in those situations and transforming into her monster form on the land, causing a panic.
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Making their way into the recovering town, she found Nia had attracted the attention of a traveling merchant who had spotted her on the way to fetch something from his cart; the soldier bun was totally playing up his flirtatious comments to get him to give her more goodies.
After a brief exchange, she got Nia away, beaming with pride at a new shawl that he’d gifted her. Anthony had a strained smile as Rachel led them out of the town, the merchant waving them off.
“Please, return tomorrow for more wonderful items, Lady Nia!”
“We’ll think about it!” Rachel swiftly returned. “Have a good night.”
Nia hugged the white shawl around her frame, bouncing with excitement. “This world doesn’t have your trade rules, Captain. Such an interesting fabric, as well. It is entirely natural and tastes sweet. What a wonderful man.”
“Sure. Haha. Well, let’s get back before Scarlet thinks we’ve been kidnapped. Anthony?”
Now outside the wooden walls, protecting the small woodland town, Anthony summoned his sword and made a slashing motion. “Already ahead of—well… isn’t this awkward?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed, instincts going on high alert as the split opened up to the cozy room they’d left, and two figures sat inside two of the armchairs, Cássia maintaining her lady-like cadence beside one.
“Aurora, Countess Elizabeth… to what do we owe this ambush?”
The sparkling, green-dressed fae Mythickin held her mouth with a playful smirk, emerald eyes taking in every inch of their appearance, and wearing a black, flowery masquerade mask that contrasted her silvery hair. Worse, they’d caught her when she wasn’t wearing Nia.
“What a lovely dress that is, Puff Ball; I especially adore the boots—feisty!” she chortled, her hidden goat legs crossing the opposite way under her long green gown. “And what an… unusual fashion choice that shawl is, Little Ears.”
Nia’s face instantly fell into a scowl. “Well, I hate her all over again.”
“No, Darling,” the fae earnestly returned, glossy lips shimmering with amusement. “I’m complimenting you!”
Anthony was the first through, Rachel following as she glanced between them; The Countess’ eyes were closed, almost looking as if she were in a hibernation state.
“Is that supposed to be a jab at my ears, then?” Rachel muttered, recalling the proper brunette 13-year-old speculating that her mistress would make an appearance. “I thought you would not be seeing us until the bell rang.”
A slight upward tilt came to The Countess’ mouth, her considerable bosom expanding with her deep breath before letting it out in a silent, controlled exhale, eyes opening, and intense ruby irises drifting to her, yet Cássia was the one to speak first.
“The Countess apologizes for the abrupt entry. She is positive you will be invested in what she has to say.” Providing a deep curtsy, the teen performed perfectly. “I will return to my duties attending to Lady Scarlet and leave you to your privacy.”
Turning on her heels, the 13-year-old made her exit, leaving all eyes on the high-class woman, and now that Rachel was closer, she saw the woman’s hair was more brown than black as the previous backdrop had made it seem. Rachel didn’t look away, but suddenly, a new theory plucked in the back of her mind.
Cássia is clearly given special treatment… Is she Elizabeth’s actual daughter? Mateo mentioned that she had children in her historical biography. It would make a lot more sense why the other servants treat her differently, despite her earlier story. In fact, it could still fit with the narrative.
“Please, sit,” the woman whispered, low and laced with barbed irons. “I have a proposal that you should find quite amenable for all three of you.”
Nia snorted, arms crossed under her bust. “Am I invisible, Countess?”
The woman’s gleaming, liquid-like pupils drifted to Nia, making the rabbit shiver instinctively with the feeling of the entire room examining her from every angle. “On the contrary, I count you as one with Rachel as her Soul Item. Now, will you entertain my visit, Hare of Misfortune?”
Rachel gave a non-verbal gesture to Anthony as he glanced at her, smoothly moving to the three armchairs that had been moved to face the pair. “Are you aware of what we are about to discuss, Aurora?”
The magical woman removed her mask, holding it to the side with a teasing lilt to her sing-songy voice. “Would it be so challenging to preface it with Lady? I’ve quite enjoyed this noble atmosphere; it makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside. As for your inquiry? No, which is quite thrilling,” she said with a welcoming glance toward The Countess.
“I was mysteriously called out of my room with the bait of tempting you again, which… is ever so alluring. The Countess is too good to me.” Rachel maintained her mildly annoyed posture as the jade-eyed woman’s provocative voice and gaze lingered on her. “Have you thought of me? You have, haven’t you? I’m going to blush; how much do you want to hurt me? I’ve thought about you…”
Elizabeth’s unbothered tone drew their focus, the bone-chilling clanking sound of chains echoing through the walls as Rachel saw the ruby blood surge through the murky floor and walls; it was hard to tell if she was really here or somewhere else entirely.
“I think that is enough foreplay, Lady Aurora.” The Countess paused, unblinking eyes drifting to each of them as she addressed them, words like needles digging into their flesh. “I will not draw this out… I know the location of The Spider that Adele hid. I take it your Outlaw King is interested?”
Aurora’s fingers linked in her lap, her entertained allure washing away. “What game are you playing, Countess? It is not Adele who stole The Spider.”
“Is that what you’ve been told? Hmm. It reminds me of a few promises Adele made me,” Elizabeth said, gaze drifting to Anthony and her. “I know how you can enter Ireland without tipping off any… unsavory parties, Anthony, and the identity of a certain refugee from a higher dimension.”
The tension continued to rise as the mysterious Countess of Blood stared at Anthony, and Rachel had no doubts in her mind; somehow, she knew about the lightning entity that bound himself to the Legend. And when the ruby-eyed woman’s controlled stare met her, Rachel’s gut cramped.
“The things I could tell you, Rachel… about your mother, Scarlet, or so many other topics, but I think we should settle on something less… drastic. What would you say if I gave you a dangerous little secret?” Her bloody lips lifted into a half-smile as if hiding a tantalizing mystery.
“Fablekin and Mystickin are only the tip of the iceberg. Not all Legends and Myths were born at The Oscillation… Some Greater Seeds are dormant, waiting to be activated. I’m sure you can see the trouble that may bring within the vampire scene. Care to listen to my request as my dear guests?” Her bright eyes didn’t blink as Rachel met the threatening woman’s gaze. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
Crossing her leg, Rachel felt the threads of misfortune weaving around them in a dance of push and pull, and a small smirk lifted the edge of her lips. “I always did enjoy a good dance with the devil. I’m listening.”
“Splendid,” the woman whispered. “I will sadly not be present for the start of this Vampire’s Masquerade. Leopold, my closest confidant and a member of my company’s board of directors, will be taking my place. I will explain your parts. You see… the Four Great Baronys have arrived, and there’s been a murder.”
* — * — *
Scarlet groaned as she lay on one of the cushy red sofas, heels rising and falling on the armrest as Maria and Fiona were being measured in the room over. The main reason she was taking up most of the couch was so Illa wouldn’t try to snuggle next to her; the girl was nervous, but it grew too much at times to have her always latched onto her arm.
What do I do, Rachel? I can’t see that far through these walls, and I don’t want to compromise Fiona or Maria’s privacy by spying on them… Do you take off your clothes when you get measured? They didn’t tell us…
“I’m so thirsty, Scarlet…”
Leaning to the side to look down at the ginger vampire girl lying on the floor and rolling around as if bored, Scarlet sighed; she had to have ADHD. “You’re always thirsty, Illa. I swear, I haven’t had a drop in like… a while, and I’m fine. It probably won’t be long before the party starts anyway.”
“Yeah, but you’re totally awesome, and I’m a little wimp,” Illa cried, flipping to her belly to look up at her with big blue eyes. “How long do you think Cássia will be gone for? What if she’s getting bullied by those other maids who totally want her job? You saw how she was fidgeting and struggling in that intro. Maybe we should go look for her.”
“She’s with Rachel right now,” Scarlet defended, now having worrying thoughts about the 13-year-old getting whipped with chains by her abusive seniors. “We… don’t know if they abuse her. She was really, uh, formal with them, I guess you could say.”
“Duh! Scarlet, why wouldn’t she be nice to her bullies? Plus, you heard her talk about manners and how The Countess makes her act all uppity and classy. Don’t get me wrong! I think it is absolutely adorable, and I want to smother her in hugs and head pats, but don’t you feel, like, I don’t know… something’s wrong?”
Belly squirming without Rachel nearby, she filtered out the walls, only able to penetrate two rooms at max past the veins of blood that ran throughout the whole of the colossal castle; it wasn’t nearly enough to find Rachel with how far they’d gone, but one thing caught her notice.
“Cássia is back?”
“Huh?! Where?” Illa demanded, legs rising, spreading out, and hoisting herself up to look left and right like a drug addict looking for their next fix. “Do you think if I act more cold she’d look at me like a big sister and want hugs? Maybe it’s how they operate here in Torture Land? Ooh. You don’t think she’s a sadist or a masochist? I’m not quite sure which one she is yet.”
“She’s thirteen—allegedly—so chill,” Scarlet shot back, getting up and stretching out.
“And I’m sixteen,” Illa huffed before a giggle shook her frame. “Allegedly! Maria’s fun, by the way. It’s so cool that she can tell when someone is lying—oh, hey, Cássia! Where’s Rachel?” she asked, a frown touching her mouth as she looked past the brunette in the empty hallway.
“Occupied,” Cássia smoothly returned, showing her charming, little-fanged smile while displaying a wine bottle. “I told you we would cover your thirsts, Lady Illa. I was careful in selecting it from the stores.”
Illa’s eyes began to water, her nose coloring as emotion overtook her. “You do care about me, Cáss! Will you pour it for me? Please! I’m too weak to open bottles. Show me more of your cool floaty blood stuff! How do you even do that? I get Scarlet and The Countess, but how do you do it?”
Cássia strained a laugh, her noble facade breaking a little at the ginger’s pushy personality, jumping up to crowd the brunette. “I, umm, get the feeling you are asking me those questions to direct me to want to pour you a cup instead of answering. Well played, Illa.”
“Ho-ho! See, Scarlet,” the girl boasted, puffing up her modest chest as she joined them. “I’m smart like Rachel, too! Aww. She’s actually pouring me a glass. We’re budding pillow buddies, Cáss!”
Scarlet didn’t even feel like it was worth reigning the girl in at this point; Illa was just a really weird, touchy-feely teen, awkwardly looking for friends. The smell that blasted out of the bottle made her cover her nose and step back, though.
“Umm, I think—eeesh! What the hell is that smell? It’s… so strong?! Is it poisonous blood or something—bad blood? No, it’s just… ultra-potent. What is it?”
Illa lit up at the reaction, eyes sparkling as she accepted the glass the 13-year-old poured. “Oooh! Mystery blood. Blah-blah! Watch out, Scarlet, Cássia’s trying to do something sneaky. Hehe. Is she trying to dope us up to do unspeakable things to us when we’re loopy and easily persuaded into dark, cozy, fuzzy places? Hmm-hmm?”
“Eh-hehe.” Cássia placed the bottle on a chair-side table, the red liquid flying out of the glass to fill Illa’s cup. “You have quite an active imagination, Illa. It is from the private stash of this castle’s former owner, and I am told it was quite the delicacy within this world, taken from one of the rare Sea Maidens within the depths of the ocean.”
Scarlet was more interested in that story than the intoxicating blood itself, trying not to let her mouth salivate as she refrained from partaking in it. She sat on the couch and motioned for Cássia to join her, with Illa already having her first cup without a care in the world.
“Please, sit. I want to hear more about this world of… vampires; is it a world of vampires, or are they a minority?”
Illa choked as the blood touched her lips, cheeks going bright pink. “Eh! W-Woah, Scarlet, youb godda try this,” she burped, having only taken a tiny sip. “Is my tongue numb? Ack-ack! Wooh! Mmm. I-I can’t speab right. Hehehe. Hic! Ugh…”
“Illa? Illa!” Scarlet hopped up in a panic as the ginger’s eyes rolled back, and she slid onto the carpet, her dress being dragged up to her lower chest, showing her slim belly, small black bra’s underside, and short-shorts. “Cássia, what did you do to her?!”
Cássia giggled, the blood in Illa’s cup freezing in the air as she took control of it. The brunette smoothly took her seat, and her thin blood snaked out to lift the sleep-mumbly girl onto a nearby couch to rest. The Noble Vampire was now drooling out of her mouth and pink-faced, totally wasted.
“It is a blood narcotic of this world that I mixed into it, usually personally crafted for progenitor children when going through their… difficult ages. At least, that is what the young serving girls at the castle told me when The Countess took up residence here. I figured you might need a break. Was that too forward of me?” she asked with a nervous smile. “I will admit that it was done more for my sake than yours.”
Scarlet knelt down to check the girl, allowing her instincts to take hold of her. Crimson eyes swept through the ginger’s burning body, and she felt a weird, compelling heat radiate out of her. So far as instincts went, Illa wasn’t dying; in fact, it felt like she was in a dream world, hunting for something to satisfy her incessant thirst, which was better than outside, Scarlet supposed.
Still a bit on guard, Scarlet forced a laugh and went to sit across from the brunette. “I guess she could use a good sleep. I just hope she isn’t too hyper after waking up. Umm. Where’s Rachel?”
Cássia smoothed out her silky dress, a charming smile brightening her cheeks. “You needn’t worry, Lady Scarlet. Anthony, Nia, and Rachel are making plans with Lady Aurora and The Countess. I returned to save you from Illa… in several ways,” she said, shaking her head and looking at the giggling 16-year-old, now twisting left and right on the couch, hugging a pillow close to her breast.
“Yeah…” For some reason, Scarlet felt comfortable with the cute brunette’s disarming presence. At the same time, she felt like there was something she was hiding; of course, that went for everything in this whole castle. “So, did you have the time to tell me more about yourself and this world?”
Nailed it, she internally cheered, thinking that this was precisely what Rachel would do. I need to scope out the land and figure out what exactly is off about this girl. Now that Illa’s been taken off my plate for a bit, I can put my full attention on Cássia! What are you about?
Cássia’s fangs gleamed with a toothy smile. “I’d love to chat! Oh, ahem. I mean, of course, Lady Scarlet. Can I begin by suggesting you do drink a little blood from… this other bottle I brought,” she asked, pulling out a small vial.
“Why?” Scarlet slowly asked, accepting it as the girl floated it over to her. “Why is it blue?”
“Another special item from this world,” she explained, a concerned frown now touching her face. “I would suggest it because the Crimson Moon accelerates and intensifies the thirst for blood. You do have a very high tolerance and are very immune to most any instances of mental impairing effects, but I expect that this will be one of the few that can… excite you. That is supposed to help… at least a little.”
A shiver ran down Scarlet’s frame, wondering if that was the reason for Illa’s sudden desire for blood and that maybe she’d let a ray of the red moon touch her skin when they left the hall. “I’ll… think about it.”
“No, don’t stop!”
Scarlet jumped at Illa’s shout, her throw pillow pressed against her face and giggling giddily while nibbling on the edges. “Haaa. She’s going to kill me.”
Cássia’s voice lowered slightly while observing the blushing ginger, having a makeout session with the fluffy cushion now. “You should learn how to control your abilities quickly, Lady Scarlet… Soon, you will not be able to rely on Lady Rachel. You must make hard decisions.”
A short silence ensued, and Scarlet sat back, eyeing the worried look on Cássia’s young face. “Are… you saying you know something that you want to tell me… but you can’t?”
The brunette shook her head. “I could tell you… but I was warned not to. Please, just trust me,” Cássia said, fingers knotting in her lap, “please, do not hesitate to kill. Trust yourself. Trust your instincts. That is all I can say.”
Vision falling to her black fingernails, Scarlet curled them into a fist. Rachel told me the same… I have to do better. There is a deeper game being played here, and Rachel is off doing her own thing. I have to do my own part. There are things only I can do. I can do this! I can get my dad back.
Eyes rising, determination on her face, Scarlet rose to her feet. “Cássia, can you take me to Selene’s room?”
Uncertainty crossed the brunette girl’s face for the first time, looking off to the side as if looking for permission from someone. “Mmm. That… could end badly, Scarlet. Are you sure? Until Virgin Blood is spilled within the castle, the bell will not chime, and The Hunt will not begin, but if it happens when you are near her… or the Crimson Moon touches you.”
“I’ll take us right there!” Scarlet chirped. “I can teleport us through shadows to not touch them. C’mon! I can do this. I’m not useless. Okay? I’m sure I can come to… some agreement with her. I can do things, too.”
“If… that is what you desire, Lady Scarlet. I will show you the way,” Cássia smiled, rising to her feet. “Should… we leave a note for the others?”
“Oh, right! And cloaks; we’ll wear cloaks. Let’s do this.”
“Yeah!” Cássia grinned. “I’m happy I was able to serve your party, Lady Scarlet. Thank you for being so kind to me.”
* — * — *
Selene sat in her given room, having just sent her provided serving girl to inform Countess Elizabeth that she would not be coming to the opening ceremony of her game. Naturally, The Countess would win whatever plot she had, and then, when all the ruckus was done with, she’d seek out her company.
Alone in her room since Aurora had ditched her, going to some mysterious rendezvous, likely with the hare everyone was so upset over. It wasn’t uncommon for the woman to become obsessed with a particular man or woman, and she had to wonder if this really was a task given to her by her king or Adele.
“How dull,” she sighed, leaning against the side of her chair and not enjoying herself on this rather overly long trip. “Why did someone so important decide to get themselves killed?”
Plucking the small, extravagant coffin that Aurora had shrunk from the chair-side table, she examined its handiwork. It wasn’t anything special like hers, a wedding gift Dracula had given her. Yes, she may be the twelfth concubine he’d made, but she was special; twelve was his favorite number, which meant it had to be her.
Mina, Camilla, Silvia, and Illyana can eat their hearts out. Damn sluts. I was the one chosen for this mission because I was the best suited to it. Once this is complete, we shall finally share a room with one another. When is this spy going to show, though? Must I wait the full week? Maybe I should have brought treats…
Her gaze lifted to the doors as she felt the heartbeat of a mortal man enter the hallway, the scent of his sweat carried along the air pressure sweeping down the corridor and through the cracks of the door.
Finally. Sitting straighter, Selene’s eyes illuminated, speaking to her personally turned attendants outside, the slave vampire women shivering as her touch caressed their minds. Allow him inside.
It wasn’t long before the door swung open, revealing a handsome blond-haired man in a three-piece suit; tucked under his arm was a cherry-colored bottle and, in his other hand, a letter. “Lady Selene, my most humble apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“Soon to be Countess Selene, Lord Leopold,” she mused, remaining seated while the showy human tickled her fancy; it was so hard to save herself for Dracula, but he was worth the wait. “Welcoming gifts from The Countess?”
“Of course, Countess,” he smoothly replied, sky-blue eyes lifting to show a smile that made her undead heart quiver. “And no. Would you be angered to hear this is from The Company? The Count has been quite gracious. Please, enjoy. Ah, and I heard that you would be refraining from joining the masquerade. Perhaps… you would enjoy some company yourself? I could free up my schedule.”
Her hungry red eyes lifted to his slow-pumping veins at his neck, looking ever so inviting. “As much as I would love that, My Lord, I have a duty to perform.”
“Naturally. Should you reconsider, my door is always open. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be ready for when the bell tolls. I will leave these here.”
“Have fun,” she said with her best charming wave, and with that, he was gone.
Saddened by the loss of entertainment and temptation, she rose to her feet, smoothed out her dress, and moved to the letter and bottle. Fingernail extending, she sliced the seal and unfolded the letter, a small twist lifting her lips at the hand-painted welcome card. The sway of the golden trim looping around each other on the outer edges painted a new picture within Selene’s mind as she mentally deciphered the code.
Is that The Countess’ plot? Naughty, naughty, naughty. How crafty she is. So, her surprise meeting with Empress Wu wasn’t her only deviation from Adele’s plan. I should leave before things become… too chaotic. What an interesting painting, though… The ocean at twilight?
“Humph.”
Her gaze drifted to the bottle of blood, curiosity sparking within her breast. A drink or two shouldn’t hurt. It would be a shame not to partake in this world’s finer things. Perhaps I should bring some back for My Love… It would make for a wonderful wedding gift, but first, a small sample.
Popping the cork, she winced as the potent scent punched her in the nose. “Mmm! Well, I have not smelled anything so enticing… Such a shame to lose its source.”
Pouring the devil’s brew into the crystal glass, she brought it up to swirl in front of her face, sampling the intoxicating scent that brought giddy jolts of electricity bouncing through her thighs, spine, and breast. The liquid touched her lips, and her mind melted into ecstasy.
My Love… take me into your dream…
* — * — *
Bouncing through the halls, being careful so as not to be seen, Scarlet felt like a ninja as she teleported through shadows. Cássia was right beside her, keeping close. Making it to the grand ballroom, she noticed several figures dressed in fancy attire and wearing party masks.
Traveling through the limited sight she had in this stupidly complex, gigantic, and blood-laced palace, Scarlet was surprised that they didn’t have to travel far to get to the hallway where Selene had supposedly been given a room. Even better, not once did she let the Crimson Moon touch her skin.
“Up that hall?” Scarlet whispered, drawing in shadows around them.
Cássia nodded, sounding a little nervous now. “Yes, but… I don’t know if we should be doing this, Lady Scarlet. We’re not supposed to take guests to each others’ rooms until the bell rings. It’s for all of your own safety.”
“We’ll be quick,” she promised. “We gotta be fast before Illa wakes up; five minutes tops. Okay, we’re—”
“Scarlet? What’s—oh, no.”
A shiver ran through Scarlet’s entire frame as a bell rolled through the entire castle like thunder, each gong rattling the floor.
The brunette’s crimson eyes grew big. “No. No, it’s not time—not this soon… Not everyone would be ready.”
“Well, it rang,” Scarlet muttered, steeling herself to make a decision rather than sitting still and worrying for Rachel to help her. “We’re going—how many halls down?”
“Umm. Two, and at the end of it.”
“Got it! Two, and… Cássia, why… are there ashes everywhere? Hey!” She shouted as a crimson-cloaked figure vanished in a swirl of rose petals just before she could activate her vampiric vision to filter it out, but it wasn’t hard to guess. “Dammit, Red! Selene, where—”
Teleporting to the doorway, her mind froze, and she stumbled back, falling to her butt and carrying Cássia with her. The entire hall was covered in the ashes of dead vampires, the door half-broken off its hinges, and in the middle of the room was the crumbling figure of a beautiful 17-year-old girl, her visible body littered with spike-like holes that brought her mind back to the night she’d killed her father—Selene was dead.