The Vampire Gift 2: Kingdom of(82)

“Because,” Smithson says, “the others fear a massacre. They considered the invitation a Trojan horse. Get them here, get them comfortable—and slaughter them in their sleep.”

“We would never—”

“You might not,” he interrupts. “But the Queen? Have you noticed her behavior recently?”

Smithson steps away. “You aren’t aware of the mystique surrounding The Haven in the outside world. This coven is spoken of in hushed, reverent tones. It is the only one on this continent that has survived for centuries. It is the only one governed by a witch. The other covens are nowhere near as organized. Mostly it’s a clan here and there, wandering through the world, mixing with the world of humans. Some live in cities—New York, for example, has fifteen blocks around Central Park secretly owned and lived in by vampires. They feed using the Little Drink and mingle with humans as if nothing separates our species. They go to plays, they explore the nightlife, but they are always—always—vulnerable and exposed to the currents of the outside world.

“Compare that with what you have here. A perfect piece of paradise. Nothing can touch you. You are free to feed. Yes, yes, I know all about The Hunt, but that is mostly for ceremony and sport, isn’t it? You keep the blood banks full. No Haven vampire has to worry about a crusader against evil murdering him in his sleep.”

I narrow my eyes. “Crusader?”

Smithson laughs. “You don’t even know?”

“Tell me.”

“Crusaders are humans devoted to hunting down and killing every last vampire in existence. They make their purpose known openly. Most regular humans think them insane. After all, how many regular humans believe in the preternatural? In a world of science and discovery, it is precious few.

“But the crusaders have weapons. They have funding. They are almost fanatics in their zeal to seek out and kill.” Smithson lowers his voice. “Do you know the best thing about killing a vampire?”

I wait for him to tell me.

“They leave no bodies. A week, two weeks, after the death, the force that gives us eternal life dissipates. All the shells we inhabit, our stolen bodies, waste away with breathtaking speed. They disintegrate, first into dust, then into nothingness.

“So the crusaders can kill, if they’re smart, without being caught. Not caught by vampires, no. Caught by other humans. By the police, by the authorities.” Smithson spreads his hands. “Without bodies to give evidence, there is no crime.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to open you to the world around you! To the vampire existence you are utterly blind to, shielded here in these magnificent redwoods. I’m trying to show you that not all live a life as privileged as what the Queen provides. And as such, in the vampires of the Outside, there is jealousy, jealousy and suspicion. The best thing the Queen can do is to remain hidden, to let the rest of the world forget The Haven exists. Instead, she is at the top of the mountains, screaming with all the brashness God gave her: ‘WE ARE HERE, WE ARE HERE, COME WITNESS US!’ And if you think that can end in anything but disaster… I pity you.”

Smithson stops talking. I look at him for a long moment, taking it all in.

Could he be right? Could the world outside The Haven really be so dark?

“You’ve gone quiet,” he observes. “I trust you’ll leave the matter of Patricia’s death on the down low. In return, I’ll speak to your Mother about Eleira. That is what you really want out of me, isn’t it?”

Before I can answer, he turns away to rejoin the party. “Have a good night,” he tells me. “Please try not to do anything stupid. The Queen is, going to be very much occupied until the false morning. The guards I’ve posted around the castle are bound to let their attention waver. It would be such a shame if something unexpected happened to Eleira the night we welcome another coven to our midst, don’t you think?”

With that, he closes the door, stranding me outside. I turn immediately for the castle.

A more blatant hint of what he’s given me permission to do I could not imagine.





Chapter Fifty-Three




JAMES



Supressing the almost insatiable urge to cough, I push the top of the sarcophagus off just a sliver, and test the air.

I hear nothing. No movement. No sound. No indication that my hiding spot has been compromised.

Then again, this is exactly what Beatrice promised.

With a grunted effort, I push the massive stone slab the rest of the way off. I sit up. My eyes pierce the dark.

I can’t help but smile.

I’m in the very familiar lower keep of Mother’s castle. This was the place originally reserved for outside guests. It is just one level below the main floor. It was designed before she cast the spell that maintained eternal night over The Haven—back when she actually entertained delegates from other covens.