Night Kings: The Complete Anthology (12 page)

Reapers know the shadows better than monsters
born of the darkest depths. To catch one unaware was not a task to
be taken lightly. Whoever killed this particular reaper knew what
they were doing. They were a threat to the lady and a threat just
wouldn’t do. Not while she drew second breath.

So why leave the body for anyone to uncover?
If word spread of the reaper’s death in Salem it would only be a
matter of time until the Order heard of what took place. It would
mean one less place in this world a queen could reign in peace. So,
an alliance was enacted with the mayor of Salem to make sure not a
word of the incident would come out. That alliance saw her betray
many of her kind and she would do so again under the guise of
survival. Her enemies would fall, only it wouldn’t be entirely by
her hand.

There were years Xenia would go without a
thought towards Cain Vetus, the reapers, and the night that began
it all. Then there were the dark years where she couldn’t go one
night without those thoughts finding their way inside. When the
darkness came for a monster such as the lady in red there was only
one that could ease her pain.

“Something troubles you,” Remus said as he
approached the lady atop the crow’s nest of Blackrose Manor.

“On the contrary,” said Xenia, “tonight my
conscience is clear.”

Not since her unholy coronation has anyone
spoken to her with such disregard over the centuries. It wasn’t out
of love or loyalty that she spared him for a fate that befell so
many. It was respect that she allowed Remus Castalon to live after
the contempt he had shown her and the belief he could one day
replace her atop her crestfallen empire.

That respect was born in the shroud, an
unearthly power that only the most gifted of vampires could
command. All kindred clung to the shadows and yet those with
mastery over the shroud were able to force their will upon those
shadows. Remus had such command and it was that mastery alone which
staved the lady’s blade.

“You will fail,” the lady said. “You realize
this?”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

“I won’t be there to protect you when you
fall,” Xenia was quick to remind him.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

The lady stepped out from their lofty glass
enclosure and onto the highest balcony the manor had to offer. The
wind whistled past them and below in the treetops the sound of
countless grackles could be heard. The entire land stirred on this
night as if aware of what was to come. Only it wasn’t of the lady’s
doing. Someone else had control of the land now.

“Your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed,” said
the lady in red coolly. “Wherever did you go? The city of Salem
missed their dark savior.”

Remus refused to answer the vampire queen. A
false pretense would be picked up immediately by one that knew him
so well.

“You’re in search of a vampire militia,” the
lady said without hesitation.

With a tinge in the eye of her progeny Xenia
knew her information to be accurate. Perhaps her deposed heir had
intentions on the crown after all. It was an occasion that
should’ve filled the lady in red with pride, but she already knew
what the end result would be. Any kindred he spoke to would’ve
reminded him in case he forgot. None take up arms against the lady
and live.

“Tonight is the night,” the lady affirmed.
“There can be no further delay.”

“Much blood will be spilled,” said Remus,
“all for the soul of one werewolf.”

“He is more than wolf,” the Xenia replied.
She turned to Remus and gave him that fateful stare she would give
once every hundred or so years. He knew it well for each time it
was accompanied by a bloodbath that poured out into the streets.
“He is the one I have waited for.”

The vampire queen and her dark prince hadn’t
agreed on much in the last century. Remus fought her at every
chance he could in attempt to weaken her dominion over the kindred
race. This wouldn’t be one of those times and he stood there in
silence with his lady in red—together until the end.

Chapter Twenty Two

Night Kings: Dayside

Gregory Blackman

The Heavy Hand and the Light Foot

The Dukane household was known for its many
visitors that would come in the middle of the night. Tonight was no
different and it found one particular caller inside those very
walls. That man was the only person the embattled mayor of Salem
could rely on in these difficult times.

“It was right of you to bring this
information to me,” Victor said with a distressed sigh, “but I
don’t believe it best to alter course. We continue on as
planned.”

Hans Brackhaus sat across from the mayor; his
bulky frame lurched over the round table they found themselves. It
was a large table made for many, but on this night only two
remained.

“It was only a matter of time before the
other councilors uncovered our plans,” Hans said with a data stick
in hand. “This videotape only proves that their involvement has
been compromised. They know too much.”

“That may very well be the case,” said
Victor, shaking his head in disappointment. “However, until we know
more I refuse to sanction any move against them.”

He accepted the data stick given to him by
trusted confident, certain of its contents as they were described
to him. He knew the implications of their discovery; knew the
ramifications. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to harm those who
had once been so close. Not yet.

“This puts our mission in jeopardy,” said
Hans, sharply. “They may very well warn the others.”

“Who will they contact,” Victor rebuked, “a
few wolves and some crusty old women? I do
not
believe them
capable of what’s essentially self assured destruction. No,
Bernhard and Cetra know as well as we that if word spreads of the
reaper’s death all our lives will come to an end. They might not
agree with our methods, but they want this mess cleaned up,
too.”

Victor’s hands trembled as he sat on the
verge of casting two of his oldest friends into the abyss. He’d
known what they were since the beginning of their union and not
once did he think of turning them over to the authorities. Bernhard
and Cetra were monsters, perversions of the divine, but not once
did they act as such in his city. To a man with so many enemies
they were as close to friend as he could hope to have. Even now, as
Victor looked back into the steely eyes of his compatriot, he
looked at a man that was no friend to him. He was simply the only
one left.

“They’ll see things as we do,” the mayor
said. “They must… or we shall all suffer the same fate. Death or
disgrace by reaper inquisition. I wouldn’t ask that of my worst
enemy.”

Victor Dukane would do anything in this world
to keep his daughter from harm. He saw the murder of a reaper
masked behind a mile of red tape; turned beloved friends into
enemies; and when it was all said and done, he did it all to spare
his daughter the same fate that would one day befall him. .

“Our first priority remains the reaper,”
Victor reminded his associate. “If we can find the reaper’s killer
we can put an end to all this madness before it spins out of our
control.”

“
If
we find the killer,” replied the
disheartened Norseman, “a feat proving all the more difficult with
each passing day. The trail has gone cold and none of the vampires
are talking. Perhaps we would get somewhere if we question the
werewolves…”

“No,” said Victor, hurriedly, “Despite these
recent findings, Bernhard would’ve told me. I have to believe that.
None know better than him what a regiment of reaper’s means. No
wolf has met a reaper and lived. He’ll lose more than his place on
city council. That’s a certainty and even he knows it. It
was
a vampire, Hans. I’m more certain of it than ever.”

He reached for a file folder beside him and
slid it across the wooden table in Hans’s direction.

“What’s this supposed to mean?” asked Hans,
shrugging his shoulders as he leafed through the pages. “I’ve got
the criminal records of four people we’ve picked up over the
years.”

“Read their names out loud for me,” Victor
said, softly.

Hans shot the guarded mayor a glance in
distrust before he looked closer at the file he’d been given. “I
see a Julie Harrow, Merle Bellevue, Sarah Matheson, and Harrison
Franks. Are these names supposed to mean something to me?”

“They’re vampires,” said Victor, “and they’ve
all gone missing over the last few days.”

“They probably fled,” said Hans as he waved
his hands in skepticism. “Vampires on the hunt have been known to
do that. There’s something in their bloody heads that tells them
danger lurks nearby. I’m telling you, Mr. Mayor, if it
was
vampires that killed the reaper then they’re far from the city of
Salem.”

The mayor pushed back from the desk, lifted
from his chair, and thumbed through an old, leather-bound book
behind him. Anything he could do to keep his gaze from the burly
Nord. He was certain these vampires had been kidnapped. He could
feel it within his bones. Something dark was at work here and it
wasn’t by his hand. Yet, not a single reason could be shared with
his cohort. This was a secret that must be kept from all.

“Fine,” said Hans with a shrug of his broad
shoulders. “I’ll see what I can do, but there isn’t much time. Must
I remind you that phase two begins soon?”

“I’m aware of the schedule!” Victor became
enraged by what he saw as insubordination from the councilman and
threw his book down on the ground in a furor.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said, flush with
embarrassment, “I just pray that we find ourselves on the right
path, brother.”

A slow creak enveloped the room as Hans slid
his chair back; eyes fixed on the beset mayor, hand in his jacket
pocket. Hans moved next to the addled Victor and forced open the
mayor’s clenched hands. As he stared the man dead in the eyes he
placed a single, silver token in Victor’s palm, and said, “So say
we all.”

It was a dark night for the city of Salem.
One made darker by those that meant to see it see it safe. They
made their secret pacts; oversaw shady dealings take place within
their walls; and they did so with the hope that one day they might
be able to reclaim the city they’d so easily lost.

Tonight’s particular dealings would see these
two men conspire long into the night and it proved the perfect
opportunity for a sneaky daughter to make her way out the back door
with her father none the wiser. Elsa Dukane had been cooped up far
too long within these walls, unable to leave while her father
resided inside.

When he was gone the servants were under
strict orders to make sure Elsa didn’t leave the compound. Those
same servants would see orders superseded every once in awhile;
when the need for a girl to live her life proved too great to
contain.

On this night, Elsa sought out a friend
that’d tried to tear her in two only a few nights ago. She held
those actions not against the man, but the lady in red that had
corrupted all he once was, and would be again.

Elsa didn’t know what she would find at his
doorstep. She heard Gemma’s warning. Heard it out and clear. Lukas
couldn’t be trusted. Not while the black veins of the lady in red
still gripped him. None of that seemed to matter to a girl in
search of herself; in search of what stirred inside her.

It wasn’t feelings of love that drove her
forward. It was the desire to learn the truth, of herself, her
friends, and the city that raised her. To the shadows Elsa fled in
search of those answers. Yet, little did she know of the darkness
that followed.

Chapter Twenty Three

Night Kings: Dayside

Gregory Blackman

The Wolf Pack

Possession had robbed Lukas Wendish of
rational thought, the friends closest to him, and the freewill to
determine his own path in life, but it was his return to the pack
that proved the most difficult bridge to cross. The others in the
pack looked at him with pity in their crestfallen eyes, the wounded
cub, brought back from the void by way of his mother’s tempered
hand.

He didn’t think of it that way. To him
possession was a dream state that he never wanted to leave. The
lady’s red love was all he needed for that short while they were
together in spirit. He cared not that they were mortal enemies or
that she was queen of the kindred. He cared only for the lady. Now
he would have to do without her embrace. That’s how Lukas Wendish
was robbed.

It was a slow road to recovery, and although
he knew the lady in red wanted him for nefarious means, he couldn’t
help the feelings that stirred within. Only, now that love was
replaced with a hatred that wouldn’t be quenched so easily. He
would end the lady’s life if it meant a return to normalcy, or as
close a wolf could get to the normalcy of human life.

Still Lukas’ face was mired in bruises and
black lesions that snaked outward from his sleeved shirt. He
watched his father speak to the pack from as far back he could get.
He was humiliated by their constant stare and sought the shadows
his monster was so fond of. Yet, no matter the distance from his
pack mates, Lukas couldn’t separate himself from the scornful
stares of his peers.

His father, Bernhard, stood atop an
overturned oak with hands raised high above his head. His war calls
bellowed out past the crowd to the forest that surrounded and let
all the predators in the region know what beasts lay claim here. He
was dressed in ceremonial wolf skin pelt with sizeable fangs
displayed to show all how fearsome a prey the beast he’d slain had
been. It wasn’t attire he brought out often, but the Old World
still ran hot in his veins, and on nights such as these he would
prominently display it for the whole pack to bear witness.