Page 20 of The Sanguine Selection
The selection?
Neither monster holding me moves, and whoever spoke rushes forward, pushing Bandar off of me. He howls in pain, and I catch the glint of something being pressed into his side. Smoke and the scent of singed fur fill the air, and I realize they’re burning him—with silver!
Elias suddenly retracts his teeth from my neck and shoves me forward into the arms of another group of men that I hadn’t noticed. He turns to run but a man wearing some sort of uniform grabs him first. “Not so fast. You’ve broken the rules of The Selection and will stand trial before the kings.”
The creature’s sneer is painted red with my blood, adding a sinister air to his words. “The kings are dead and are never coming back!”
“They are coming back, and you’ll rue the day you crossed them,” another man in uniform vows.
A shiver runs through Elias and his smile fades. A shimmer of fear dances in his gaze, and in return, one skids down my spine. For all his bravado, this terrible monster is afraid of these so-called kings.
As I’m led away, a uniformed guard hands me back Papa’s coat, and I slip it over my dress, fingering Mama’s silver necklace through the layers of fabric. I thank him and suddenly don’t feel so alone or defenseless. There are good people in this world, these men… they saved me.
I’m learning secrets of this new world that I never knew existed, but I know I’m still largely ignorant. My only hope is that this ‘selection’ will keep me protected long enough to heal and find a cure for Papa, but a kernel of worry takes root inside of me.
What kind of terrible monsters must these kings be to scare the creature from my nightmares?
10
Jasper
It’s beena hundred years since the kings’ demise, a century of insecurity, of a land in turmoil. A hundred years since I’ve served them, yet here I still stand—a human amongst monsters. It’s astounding I’ve survived this long without meeting my own demise, not from jealous vampires but from time itself. I shouldn’t be alive, shouldn’t be watching out my window as a carriage arrives at Lord Vikkon’s castle just down the mountain from Sintara. It contains guests ripped from the clutches of those wretched wolves for another Sanguine Selection. I shouldn’t be witness to another, part of the hopeless charade which always ends in defeat.
Back when my kings were less undead than they are now, as a gift for my unwavering servitude, I was offered a chalice filled with sweet scented red liquid. Of course most would have assumed a deep, red wine swirled around the golden glass but I knew better, knew immediately what was offered. I could have said no but I could not predict their reactions to my dismissal of something they held so sacred. So I drank and it changed me, altered the very core of who I was—of who I remain to this day.
I believe that is the sole reason I remain alive today, because a part of the kings, however small, still lives within me—their faithful servant. Sometimes I’m filled with regret at my choices. Muddling through this past century has been less than enjoyable. The kings held everything together but now, the world has begun to fall apart.
Vagrants roam the thick woods, leaving their dens deep within the third ring and venturing within the inner two. Yes, we’re well aware of that here in the fourth ring but have allowed it to happen. It gives the wolves something to look forward to, a chance to become the very monster they're so desperate to portray. As if we needed more proof of their brutality.
It must be something in their blood, something they’re born with, causing the fierce need to dominate and prove their power to the fourth ring. But none here blink an eye at their often vile and ruthless displays. We’re too old, the elder coven members too powerful with their minds to be moved by brute strength. They don’t require gnashing teeth and sharp claws for battle when they could crush you with just a thought in their minds. To a vampire lord, seduction is their greatest weapon. Well…aside from the fangs.
The wolves have grown desperate as the decades come and pass. Humans are dwindling, their numbers half of what they used to be while their poverty is the highest it’s ever been. I used to campaign on their behalf, being human myself, but my efforts have not carried much weight since my kings have slumbered.
Imagine if they had listened, even once, to let the humans have more ground to cultivate and grow their population. Perhaps we would have found someone in a previous Selection years ago instead of agonizing through another uncertain round. The more females there are, the more chances to find the perfect match. But the coven had other thoughts, wishing to stay out of the problems of humanity, far below their standards of course, in spite of their obvious need for them for their own survival. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve seen what happens when they eat only from animals—they change and not for the better.
But once, every twenty years, by order of the high ranking vampires of Libarryn, the kings’ coven, the wolves legendary Hunt must cease, and the rumor is—it hasn’t. Not that I needed confirmation. The constant shrieking and cries for aid travel well on the cool wind, even after it was ordered for the Hunt to stop weeks ago.
It never stops—a constant, deadly game played in the bowels of the woods. A blind eye we can turn no more, not now, not after another twenty years has passed and my kings are still withering away, buried within their gilded caskets below the frozen earth.
Outside, the carriage comes to a halt, frozen breath of the braying horses casting a mist around their heads. Carriage is really too grand a word, it’s more like a cage on wheels. A network of thick iron bars offering no protection from the elements is how they’ve traveled. Huddled together, no doubt frozen and shivering, I count at least ten women and hope there’s more.
Hope, that damned word again. When will I wipe it from my vocabulary, bury it alongside my kings?
The members of Libarryn grow restless as the Selection approaches. Some wish to abandon the Novikov bloodline in favor of someone new, a powerful vampire who can immediately take up the empty thrones and lead Libarryn again. More than once have I stumbled upon a secret meeting I was not privy to, strained to hear the whispered words spoken in the dark corners of Sintara. Part of me understands their reasoning though my loyalty remains true in spite of what I know, what I feel.
The kings are wasting away. I fear, if a match is not found this Selection, my kings, Marek and Mikhail, the great and powerful Novikov twins, will be so far gone no amount of blood will be strong enough to wake them. I can feel it day by day, with their blood still running though my own, how weak they’ve become. Their slumber will soon become eternal, the ramifications of which I do not wish to see. Should that come to pass, I shall relieve my veins of every ounce of blood and rest alongside my kings.
A second carriage arrives, pulling next to the first. A wolf bound in silver howls into the night. Beside him is a lesser vampire, one I’ve seen lurking with those who consider usurping my lords who goes by the name Elias. I’ve made it a priority to learn every member of Libarryn, who they associate with, the human’s they’ve enslaved, whose blood they drink, and the children they’ve created without permission from my lords in their extended absence.
It’s a game, a game in which I’m playing behind the scenes. That way, I’m ready. Prepared. Should the kings arise I shall have a century’s worth of information to tell them. They will not be shrouded in the dark, not on my watch.
A knock on my door has me turning away from the display below my window.
“Come.”
Softly it opens and in walks Kara wearing a mostly transparent drab shift marking her as a human slave. When I first began working for the kings, I have to admit that I was most distracted by the obscene display of nudity, though I much appreciated it. So normalized it has become that I hardly even look anymore. Kara curtseys slightly, her head bowed just enough so our eyes cannot connect. “Jasper, sir. The females are being led to a holding room in Lord Vikkon’s castle. They are waiting for your arrival before continuing.”
“Thank you, Kara. Please inform them I am on my way.”
