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The Vampire Gift 2: Kingdom of(67)

By:E.M. Knight


Victoria shrugs. “What of it?”

“You used it to take control of her and open the Book of the Dead,” I snarl, unable to keep myself composed any longer. “You possessed her!”

Victoria looks at me… and laughs.

“The ‘Book of the Dead?’” she asks. “What, like the parchment from ancient Egypt? What on earth would I have to do with—”

Mother snaps the whip forward. It catches Victoria just beneath the eye. A line of blood forms on her face.

“Lie again,” Mother says, “and the next lash will take out one of those pretty blue eyes of yours.”

Victoria scowls at the Queen.

I step forward, and demand, “Well?”

“Fine, so I know of the book,” Victoria spits. “Anyone who’s studied magic does.”

“But who would give you the education for that?” Mother wonders. “The Spark you possess is miniscule. It’s barely discernible. Who would waste her time teaching you magic?”

Victoria dabs at her bleeding face. Her strength has been suppressed so much by the poison that I doubt she would even be a threat to Phillip—before he broke his human blood fast.

“That’s the question I asked myself the entire time,” she answers sourly. “My ‘education’ was a farce. The one tutoring me knew I could never amount to anything. But she made me try, anyway. I can’t tell you how many days I spent bashing my head against the wall, trying to understand what was wrong with me, why my spells never amounted to anything more than a pathetic fizzle, nothing more than a dull blue glow.”

She raises a hand in front of her face and cups her fingers. Her eyebrows knot together. She starts to focus. Her eyes concentrate on her fingertips. She focuses, and focuses, and focuses…

A tiny blue flame leaps from her forefinger. It disappears before I can even blink.

Victoria slumps back, clearly drained.

“There,” she tells us. “That’s all I can do.”

“Oh, child,” Mother smiles at her sadly. “How difficult it must have been for you.”

“Don’t mock me!” She fires backs. “It was my twin they wanted, my twin who died. My twin who would have made a great witch. But my teacher was too frightened to tell your husband, the King of The Crypts, that he had the wrong girl. After it all ended, I learned that was the true reason she persisted in my education. That was why I was made to suffer constant humiliation at her hand.”

“And your teacher,” Mother says. “Would I know her? What is her name?”

“She’s dead now, so not much use to you.” Victoria sighs. “She was a human caught by the vampires. Her Spark wasn’t very strong, either. It was much too weak for her to be useful to the King in any capacity other than as my tutor. She belonged to one of those off-shore witch clans, the ones who cowered before the might of the original Five Families.”

Mother considers this. “I know how difficult the training can be.”

I stare at her. Is that actual sympathy in her voice?

“But I also know you are not easily broken, or dissuaded from what you want. As you’ve so aptly demonstrated in your time here. So the next thing I want to know…” she stands up and walks toward Victoria, “…is exactly how one so weak as you took possession of Eleira’s mind. You have the connection with her. You can’t hide that.”

“From you, there’s not much I can hide,” she grumbles. “But if you’re looking for someone to blame, you can look elsewhere. Eleira closed her mind to me the moment she discovered the link. I have not been able to communicate with her since. And that—” Victoria shoots a defiant look at Mother, then at me, “—is the absolute truth. Do with it what you will.”

She draws her shoulders back and exposes her body. “Whip me, hurt me, I don’t care. There’s nothing more you will find.”

An icy silence falls upon the room as Mother considers this. Then, in a flurry of skirts she spins around and storms out the room.

“And you?” Victoria asks, turning to face me. “What will you do now that you have me alone, and your precious Eleira is injured?” She fills the other girl’s name with so much hate and spite and jealousy that it’s a wonder she managed to keep her features so calm.

“Less than you deserve,” I say. “But more than I should be capable of.” I toss her a tiny vial of blood. “Drink that. It’ll heal the cut on your face, lest it become permanent while your powers are subdued.”

She catches the vial… and with a dismissive sneer, chucks it against the far wall.