NATHANIEL
Days passed since Balthazar staged his coup, if I could even call it that. No force was needed. The other dukes had signed the kingdom away willingly, and I'd unwittingly given Balthazar exactly what he needed to end my reign.
Abel must be thrilled. He was probably up there in his marble tower, dancing in delight. If only the fool knew whom he'd handed my kingdom to. The thought of his smug smile fading when he discovered Balthazar's secret rebel ties was a small comfort, though one that faded quickly with the knowledge that my kingdom would soon be under rebel control.
No one had come for me since I was escorted into the holding cells, which meant Balthazar had either spun a convincing lie to deflect my accusations, or removed all opposition entirely. The man I knew would never stoop to such depths, but as it turned out, I didn't know Balthazar at all.
The more I thought about it, the more his role as the mastermind behind the rebel plot made sense. How else would they have been able to elude me for so long without assistance from someone in his position? They could do as they pleased because they had the Duke of New York and my maker on their side, eager to draw way my suspicion or silence it entirely.
I thought back to that fateful night when the first Duke of Virginia, Daniel Morgan, had been killed. He'd been trying all night to warn me of something, but that warning had died with him. I'd wondered for years what he meant to tell me, and now I knew with certainty.
Daniel had to have known something about Balthazar, and he'd been silenced for it.
Or had that bullet been meant for me after all? Was that what Balthazar planned for me all along? The rebels had certainly tried enough times, but was that done with Balthazar's approval? He'd had more opportunities to kill me than anyone else, but he'd always stayed his hand. I feared what he planned for me was far worse than death.
I'd heard the telltale thud of the heavy door unlocking and looked up to see who'd entered. Sure enough, it was Balthazar, flanked by a series of armed guards. So, the day had finally come.
Balthazar walked toward my cell and stopped. "Good evening, Nathaniel."
His flippant tone caused a spark of rage to flare up within me. I didn't look up to acknowledge him and sat silently on the hard metal bench inside my cell.
The iron bars suddenly slid open as someone triggered the remote locking mechanism. Guards spilled into the room and before I could protest, I was being dragged to my feet. A chain was clamped around my wrists and ankles and I gritted my teeth at the indignity of the display.
"Why have you come?" I finally allowed myself to ask. "Have you erected a guillotine on the palace grounds? Is it finally time for my execution?"
"You owe me far more credit than that," Balthazar replied coolly.
He said nothing more as I was led out of the holding cells. There was no guillotine, not that I really expected one. Instead, and armored truck greeted me, surrounded by armed guards and a series of security vehicles. I cursed as I was shoved into the back of the truck and extra chains were wrapped around me, trying me to the cold metal seat. Balthazar sat across from me, two armed guards at his side.
"So my execution is to be more public then?" I spat once they were done restraining me. "Is Abel waiting in the crowd, ready to see me made an example of?"
"Don't be so dramatic," Balthazar admonished. "I'm only taking you to New Orleans."
My eyes widened in surprise and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped from my lips. "Your witch friend could've saved you a trip if you'd only told her what you planned for me."
"How was I to know what would happen in Houston?" Balthazar replied tersely.
So his coup was thrown together at the last minute, just as I'd suspected. And yet, it still worked. What did that say about him? Or worse, about me?
The truck roared to life and lurched forward, making everyone jostle sideways in their seats. I pictured the gilded gates of my palace opening to let the procession through. I stole a glance out the small, bulletproof window at Rosethorne Hall. Would this be the last time I'd ever see it? The thought sent a jolt of rage and anguish through me, which I fought to suppress. I'd need a clear head for dealing with Balthazar.
"How did you and Daphne Sinclair come to be so close?" I asked. Making small talk with my betrayer wasn't smart, but my curiosity got the better of me.
"Once I'd received news of what happened to Sheridan, I came to New Orleans myself to seek her out," Balthazar explained.
"You sought her out?" I repeated, disbelieving. "You walked into that deathtrap and came out alive?"
Balthazar only shrugged. "She sensed that I meant her no harm, and she was curious as to why. We talked, and we found common ground. Simple as that."
"Common ground being your mutual hatred of vampires," I spat back. "You must've been overjoyed to find the one person who can finally make your twisted dream of our destruction a reality."
Balthazar crossed his arms and looked at me squarely. "I know you have no reason to, but believe me when I say that killing you has always been a last resort for me."
I laughed bitterly. "That bullet in my heart sure didn't feel like a last resort."
"I assure you that Chase Colter was not acting on my orders that night."
"And what about all of those other times? I can't make public appearances as king because of the way the rebels have threatened my life over the years. Are you telling me those rebels acted against you? Here I thought you controlled them!" I sneered.
"I don't control them," Balthazar replied, completely unfazed by my anger. "I aid and advise them. They defer to me on many matters, but I am not some supreme mastermind as you perceive me to be."
I shook my head. Reasoning with him was an exercise in futility, and yet... "I still don't understand what you hope to gain from this. Once you've stopped being useful to the rebels, they'll get rid of you. All you're doing is betraying your own kind and for what? This kingdom was never what you wanted, and the rebels wouldn't let you have it anyway. Are you really so self-righteous that you'd go against your own interests?"
"What I want is of no importance to you," Balthazar said. "It never has been."
I sneered. Of course. The war had come to pass long ago, in spite of Balthazar's protests to keep things the way they were. He'd never wanted our kind to our ourselves to humans because of the predictable consequences such an act would bring. Well, we'd prepared for those consequences and we'd come away victorious. And he wanted to take that from us; to force us back into the shadows.
But it was far too late for that. Humanity would not simply forget. Once we stopped being a myth, there was no turning back.
"How do you expect to wrest control of the world away from vampires? How many must die for your idea of peace? You got lucky with me, but others will not be so easily separated from their power. No vampire wants to go back to the days of slinking in the shadows after we'd had a taste of being kings. And no human would let us."
"And why wouldn't they, I wonder?" Balthazar said, glaring crossly at me. "You, Abel, and every other fool who dared call himself a king deserve to meet Sheridan's fate for your arrogance."
I leaned back against the cold metal wall of the truck. "So why not just have your men train their guns on me and end it? Right now! It'll spare both of us the torment of having to continue this wretched conversation."
My remark earned a scowl from him. "I have different plans for you."
He would not tell me what those plans were. The rest of the ride passed in silence. I was unloaded onto the nearby military base and escorted into a helicopter, and flown north. When we finally began to descend, I chanced a glance out the window and found myself looking at a startlingly familiar site, albeit one I'd only seen in satellite pictures.
The helicopter made landfall in a forest clearing. As I was escorted onto the ground, my mind reeled with questions as to what we were doing in the forest outside the Bell's lakeside cabin in the Catskills. There was nothing of note in this particular area of the woods. Then my eyes fell upon an aberration — two birch trees with their lowermost branches twined together in an arch — and an uneasy feeling settled over me.
"Give me your pocket knife," Balthazar said to one of the men guarding me. He obliged. Balthazar walked over to the strange tree arch and unhooked the blade, drawing it over his thumb. Then he stuck his injured hand into the air between the trees.
To my astonishment, the arch began to shimmer and brighten until it glowed a blinding white. Balthazar looked at it with obvious satisfaction, then walked back toward me. "Come," he said, laying his uninjured hand on my shoulder and leading me towards the glowing doorway. Then he gestured for me to step through as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
I gulped. "How do I know this isn't a trap? That this magical light won't blow me to pieces?"
Balthazar smirked. "You'll feel some pain and discomfort, but nothing quite so drastic as what you're describing. Avery Crawford can attest to that."
I whirled on him at the mention of Avery's name. Balthazar's amused smile quirked even higher. "How did you think we were able to move her without you noticing?"
I shot a glance back at the cabin. She'd been held there? If I'd known, I would've pushed harder. Demanded it be searched, due process be damned. Then this whole mess would be over with, and I'd still have my throne. Damn the rebels, damn the witch, and damn Balthazar for orchestrating the whole affair.
He nudged me forward. I grit my teeth and let out a huff of frustration. I readied to take a step forward, then paused, remembering the guards. They still had their weapons trained on me, no doubt to ensure I didn't try to escape or fight back, but they weren't following.
"Aren't you going to send your guards with me so that I'll behave?" I asked.
"I don't need to," Balthazar replied in a tone so calm it set my teeth on edge.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
There went my guilty fantasy of strangling him with my the chain of my handcuffs. It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt like hell and allow me to incapacitate him long enough to deliver a more permanent blow.
If I'd been told last week that I'd soon be fantasizing about murdering my maker, I'd wouldn't have believed it.
Balthazar, having tired of my stalling, pushed me through the portal.
He'd been right about the side effects. Traveling across time and space via a magical gateway was just as painful and disorienting as he said it would be. I imagined this was what falling through a wormhole must've felt like.
I landed on my back, my head thwacking painfully against pavement. Forget my revenge fantasy. That portal ensured I was no danger to anyone except myself. With some effort, I managed to scramble to my knees. Balthazar chose that moment to land directly in front of me with far more grace than I had, making it look momentarily as if I were kneeling in fealty before him. I stood up immediately.
"It gets better with time," he said reassuringly, as if there'd even be a next time.
Come to think of it, there was no way of getting back that I could see. The portal had dropped is in a long driveway that wound around a dried out mermaid fountain, and a wrought iron gate in the distance. Something about this setting struck me as familiar, but before I could think of why Balthazar surprised me by unlocking my handcuffs.
I stared at him. Was he really foolish enough to remove my restraints? Or was he merely confident in his own strength? Given that the last time I'd fed was days ago, he did have a significant advantage. Still, just what was he planning?
"Welcome back to New Orleans," he said with startling sincerity.
Now that he'd reminded me, I could feel the difference in the air. It was warmer and strangely humid, even at nighttime in the fall. I could hear the flow of the Mississippi in the distance. And when I turned around, I was met with the brilliant white facade of a Greek Revival mansion.
I realized then why the place seemed familiar. I'd been here before, during my diplomatic visit to the South.
This was Sheridan's home.
So, as of right now we've got about 10 chapters before the story ends!