House of Kings(58)

“It’s amazing,” I say as I shake my head. “An entire town, centered around the vampires, and no one knows about it.”

“It’s not been an easy thing, keeping it hidden,” she says as she raises an eyebrow. “Plenty of blood has been spilt in keeping our secret.”

I can only imagine.

We continue the drive around the lake, which takes fifteen minutes. We crest around the west edge, and houses begin to crop up from the ground. They’re old. Most of them stone. The coloring is weathered, as if they have been here for centuries.

Farms stretch out around the houses. I see barns off in the distance, housing sheep, cows, even yaks.

The further we drive, the closer together the houses become. Some newer structures crop up, here and there. Small shops indicate this is indeed the main road. There’s a small commerce that exists here.

And then, the houses drop away. Fields of grass take over, but only for a few minutes.

And suddenly, there’s the palace.

It rises up, the road’s elevation climbing quickly. The side of the mountain holds it close, promising an impossible to take location. A stone wall surrounds it, difficult to follow as the trees swallow it over and over again. Great spiraling towers are scattered on the corners. Tall poles rise above them with flags that wave in the night.

Black with a red crown in the center.

I thought the Conrath Plantation was old. That it had history.

But it is an infant, barely taken its first breath, compared to Cyrus’ castle.

“Wow,” the word leaks out from Trinity.

Flames in giant bowls line the road leading up to the castle. Abruptly, we come to a bridge, and off to the west, I see a waterfall cascading from the mountain. It runs down a seam in the mountain side before rushing beneath the bridge. Light and flames dance around the castle walls, and through the dark, I see black, hooded figures walking the walls, each holding crossbows, rifles—an assortment of deadly weapons.

Before us, a giant set of gates swing open, allowing the first of the limousines through and into the courtyard.

Our car rolls through, and once again I am struck with wonder.

The mountain hides the true size of the castle. The courtyard alone feels as big as the Conrath property. Cobblestones line the entire area, branching off into two roads, one headed north east, the other north west. And in the center is a giant garden area. Grass just showing signs of life. A fountain at its center. Bushes, and the beginnings of flowers.

Towers rise from the ground, stair stepping up and up, the castle climbing the mountain.

But I only get a few seconds to take it all in before the cars branch off onto the north west road, and we disappear into a tunnel. Narrow walls hug around us, and I am instantly more claustrophobic. The walls are only inches away from the sides of the vehicle. We wind and wind, up and up, climbing up into the belly of the beast.

Suddenly, we break into a huge cavernous space. The ceiling must be twelve feet tall, and it alone must cover an acre of space. Great, stone pillars support the ceiling here and there, gigantic things that must be twenty feet around.

The space is filled with all kinds of vehicles. Fast sports cars, barely an inch off the ground. Huge SUVs and trucks. There must be over fifty vehicles.

“Let’s go,” the woman says, nodding her chin for the door. We climb out and she instantly stops me. “Just to be safe.”

She binds my hands, and Trinity’s, with some kind of flowing silver cord. I want to test it, surely I could break it with my strength. But that wouldn’t look good when I am the prisoner.

“Welcome to Roter Himmel,” Cyrus says as he climbs from the vehicle, spreading his arms wide. “I hope you find your visit here…pleasant.”

The smile on his face says it will be anything but.

Movement catches my eye, and I look to find Raheem climbing from one of the vehicles. “I can take the prisoners from here,” he says as he crosses to us, his eyes fixed on me.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Cyrus counters, closing in on us. “It has become quite apparent things have been happening and I can’t go having you aid in an escape plan.”

“I would never,” Raheem challenges as he looks down his nose at Cyrus.

“Do not test me, young pup,” Cyrus growls.

“Stop,” I say, directing it at Raheem. “It’s okay. We will do as the King says.”

He turns to look at me, and the look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t like this. There’s a fear there that drops a piece of ice in my own heart.

“Wonderful,” Cyrus says, clasping his hands together. “Now that we’ve got that squared away, let’s retire to the castle for dinner, shall we?”