From my spot half-reclined on a generous mountain of plush pillows on our king-size bed, I watched as the needle and tube connected to the gently whirring medical machine Keel had once brought to dinner whisked away my blood. The whole procedure was oddly clinical given the archaic bleeding devices the Nosferatu employed during social functions, and I found myself zoning out on the rich red liquid slipping through the transparent tubing into the belly of the boxy white beast. There wasn't much else to do as I gave of myself for the cause.
Keel and I had already refined the battle plan as much as possible without having a rough estimate of how much blood I might be able to give or the strength of the spells we might be able to cast with it. Perhaps if we harvested enough, we could run a few trials, but that would be determined by how fast my body replenished itself, and that, like so many things, remained a great unknown. Three extra bleeders and round-the-clock cooks had been called into service in the kitchen to serve up human cuisine as I demanded it. All of this could be compared to being fattened up for the slaughter, only I was turning the food into blood that would later become magic, and the more I gave, the stronger my conviction became. This was something only I could contribute to the war effort and the sorcerers would not be expecting it. They expected Keel and me to be the weapon of mass destruction, not that we would use our combined power to weaponize everyone else. No one believed it possible for a Nosferatu king to share, and we would play that idea against them big time. Let them be destroyed by their own goddamn stereotypes, I thought.
Keel warmed to the plan more with each passing hour, soon making suggestions of all the ways he could help bolster the spells on the battlefield. He understood better than anyone the full power of the unexpected, and the idea of showing the sorcerers up, even just a little bit, made his eyes shine - and my heart quicken.
He did not drink from me while I bled for our troops, except to lick away the excess when he removed the needle. Instead, he let me drink from him, deep and often. Giving himself over to my thirst as I gave myself over to my sacrifice. Each time he did, my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, wishing he'd listen to what my body was telling him and climb onto the bed and give the rest of himself over to me too, but the steady stream of high-ranking Nosferatu travelling in and out of the royal chambers made that impossible. War waited for nothing and no one, not my passion or my hunger.
When Ephraim joined us late in the night, he proved my theories about the plan spot on. As we ran him through the specifics, he offered no arguments, only an expression of sheer astonishment.
Once we finished, he turned to Keel. "Are you certain about this, Your Majesty? It's one hell of a strategy, but it's also quite revolutionary. That's not going to cause any problems for you in execution, is it?" Ephraim spoke carefully, making it easy to read between the lines. He wanted to ensure that Keel wouldn't lose himself to a fit of animalistic jealously at exactly the wrong moment.
Keel looked from the machine to Ephraim. "I won't deny that I don't like the idea of it, but if we don't do something, Mildred and I will be the sole defensive force for this entire compound. Nosferatu aren't any better to equipped to fight sorcerers than we were three hundred years ago. At this point, I'm willing to swallow every one of my natural instincts if it'll prevent this place from becoming a slaughterhouse. That's not how I want to go down in the history books."
"Then you won't," Ephraim said with a strength and determination that straightened both of our backs. "And I'll help you prepare."
The sudden pounding on the door made all three of us jump.
"Come in," Keel shouted, and Arthos burst into the room.
His speed alone indicated that was terribly wrong, and the panicked expression on his face confirmed it. My gut clenched, fisting itself uncomfortably around all the food and blood I'd imbibed.
"You're needed in the war room," Arthos announced, not waiting to catch his breath. "There's been an attack. The enclave in Plattsburgh has fallen."
"What's the war room?" I asked from edge of the bed as I laced up my boots. Given the emergency, I'd settled for casual under my royal robes. Who knew what other surprises the night had in store for us.
"A heavily fortified facility in the dead centre of the compound, only accessible to royals and the Council. Largely unused except in times of extreme conflict."
"So exactly what it sounds like, then?" I didn't like that we'd already reached extreme. We didn't have remotely enough blood set aside for that.
"Come on, I'll show it to you." Keel extended an arm and I rushed to take it, ready for bond's infusion of rightness. He let me lean into him, maybe he needed the bond's comforts as well. We stayed like that the whole way to the war room.
Its entrance lay off a hallway on the compound's sixth subterranean level. The door that fronted onto the corridor looked like all the others that housed apartments, classrooms and labs. It was, of course, a decoy, and so was the sparsely furnished room it opened into and the storage closet at the back of that. Only pushing upwards on the closet's top shelf revealed the room's real purpose. Behind the large panel stood a thick steel door, more befitting a vault than a place of politics and military strategizing.
Keel shoved the door open, revealing an uncomfortable-looking Boras blocking the entrance.
"What's wrong?" As soon as it was out of my mouth I realized what a stupid question it was; sorcerers had just taken a Nosferatu enclave, there couldn't be anything more wrong than that. Way to be sensitive, Mills.
"This. You. Here. Your father too," he swung his head towards where my Ephraim was seated at the large, round, ancient-looking oak table that dominated the centre of the room. "Sorcerers in the war room, working with Nosferatu, sharing thrones with them. It's all heresy." He looked as if he might spit.
"The other kings don't seem to think so," I said. "It's not like His Majesty did any of this without seeking the Grand Council's approval. Hell, one of the German enclaves sent my crown and the South Americans made my throne."
Boras scowled. "Those foreigners should stay out of our affairs. Unless they want to contribute something actually helpful, like aid for the New York enclave, which was just gutted thanks to your people."
"Gutted?" The fist in my stomach twisted.
"That's what I said, isn't it?"
"I would have preferred to have heard that news once the meeting convened, as per protocol," Keel snapped from behind me. "Are you requiring another lesson in royal etiquette?"
Boras glared at him. The whole of the bond bristled with Keel's anger.
Leave him, I said, and attempted to counter it with a tiny bit of calm, unsure how Keel would react to my interference. If the sorcerers are attacking other compounds, this is much bigger than Boras' petulance. We'll deal with him later.
Keel's hand touched down on the small of my back and then disappeared. "Take your seats," he boomed, making his way around to the head of the table. The hard lines of anger always put years on his face. His beast lived in that rage, and war would require it. I withdrew the calm.
Boras cleared out of my way, allowing me to take in the rest of the space. It held much more than just a gigantic central table with enough board-room-style chairs around it to hold twenty. Along the sides of the circular room a series of deep alcoves pinwheeled outward, inside them I caught hints of their contents. The war room was not only a meeting/operations facility, but also a fully stocked bunker. An underground panic room of sorts for Nosferatu royalty and their closest confidants. And that's exactly who was here tonight: Keel, Boras, Arthos, my father, and five members of the council. Where were the other seven? I made a mental note to ask Keel later.
His Majesty stood in front of a document that had been laid out on the table in preparation for his arrival. His fists pressed into tabletop on either side of the pages as he read. By the time I'd crossed the room and slid into the empty chair beside him, his facial expression had grown as tight as his clenched hands and his eyes were black and beastial.
"The sorcerers have begun a series of calculated attacks on Nosferatu enclaves, beginning with King Ultrant's compound in upper New York state." He turned to the series of maps that were pinned onto a rolling display board behind him and indicated where the assault had taken place. The slow, deliberateness of his actions spoke to just how hard he was working to keep his anger in check. I didn't dare spike our connection with calm this time. Before meeting me, Keel had hated sorcerers and this unexpected strike had reawakened some of that primal loathing. Not that he directed it at me, but it churned through the bond like a toxin.
"Why are they engaging other enclaves and not coming directly here?" one of the council members asked. Now that I was queen I really needed to learn their names.
Keel pinched the bridge of his nose. "We do not know. Nor have we had any reports of survivors from the New York attack to ask."
A collective sound of shock erupted around the table, and the wood grain beneath my fingers suddenly became incredibly compelling as I found myself unable to look at any of them, afraid I'd see nothing but blame and hatred in their eyes. I was the sorcerer who'd upset the fragile equilibrium that had been in place for centuries. The one who would bring magical armies and death to their door. When I could no longer look down for fear of being perceived as weak, I looked at Keel, but he had his own head bowed again, like he carried the weight of the world on those hunched shoulders, which in a way he did. The things we discussed and decided on in this meeting would ultimately determine whether his people lived or died, and I had not a damned useful thing to contribute to the conversation. Some queen I was turning out to be.
"Are they trying to start a continent-wide war?" the same council member asked.
"Maybe, but it's more likely they are wielding their considerable force to discourage other enclaves from aligning themselves with your king and queen," Ephraim said, and my gaze flew to him, surprised that he'd answer a question directed at Keel.
"You brought this upon us," another of the council declared, pinning his king with his red eyes.
That's it, he going to snap, I thought, but His Majesty didn't waver. In fact, he straightened and met the accusation head on.
"True," Keel allowed, "but the result would have been the same had my father achieved his goals with our queen, and we wouldn't have the new allies we do either."
The dissenter fell silent. This compound had been on a collision course with the League of Sorcerers for a long time, everyone in the room had to know that.
"The good news is that although this action has been sanctioned by the League, it doesn't appear to have spread to the lower states," Keel continued. "We have every reason to believe this is a regional conflict."
"And how exactly is that supposed to help us?" asked the first council member who'd spoken.
"Because it means relocation remains a viable option," said Keel.
This time the Council's collective gasp was louder and followed by shuffling and the scraping of chair legs on the tiled floor. "Nosferatu don't retreat," someone retorted, and at least three of the vampires seemed ready to launch themselves out of their seats and start shouting.
"We also haven't ever won against an army of sorcerers," Keel said, raising his voice over the noise. Like the throne room, this space seemed as if it had been designed to amplify it. "The queen and I do have some new tricks, but provisions must be made for retreat should we get overwhelmed. I refuse to march any of our people into certain death."
The room fell quiet.
"The sorcerers, myself, and our troops will remain behind to fortify and fight. But most of you," Keel swivelled his head towards the Council, "will need to go south and prepare a new compound space should this one not survive the onslaught or become commandeered by sorcerers. King Frennik in Texas knows of an abandoned facility we can use in his state until Michigan becomes safe for us again. Go there, get the cattle installed, get security and infrastructure up to standard. I know it's rare that your king won't join you in such a move and I know it's dangerous for us to travel such a long distance, but I think we can all appreciate what we're facing here."
"Is there no convincing you otherwise, Your Majesty?" Another new voice. Was anyone on board without an argument?
"None," Keel said. "This is not up for further discussion. Boras will distribute instructions for the remainder of the evacuations in the next few hours. Start on them immediately. Our compound may fall, but our enclave will not."
The room emptied quickly once Keel finished speaking.
I rose from my seat and approached the map of the US eastern seaboard, first running my fingers over New York City and then where the fallen Nosferatu compound had been. "I don't belong here," I said. Guilt bore down on me like grave dirt on a coffin. "How many lives are going to be lost because of us?"
A complete and utter stillness blanketed the room, and then Keel said, "You belong wherever I say you belong."
"Maybe that's the problem." I dropped my hand from the map. "Ever since I found my magic and saved your life the first time, everyone has been telling me what to do and how to do it. My father, you, the blood contracts, the bond. How else am I suddenly married and preparing for a war? Neither of those things should be on a teenage girl's to-do list. "
"You didn't destroy that compound, the sorcerers did." Keel's fingers wrapped around my shoulders, gently kneeding them.
"Only because I'm here with you, bonded to you. You lied to them, you know, your father could never have brought this upon the compound because he'd never have unlocked my magic."
"Without that magic we wouldn't have our greatest weapon."
"Without it there wouldn't be any need for that weapon."
"We can't change the past, Mildred, we can only prepare for the future."
I spun to face him. "But I'm no queen, even if you stick a robe and crown on me and marry me in a lavish ritual. The more I sit on that throne and in on these meetings, the more I realize that. You've trained to be a ruler and to fight battles your entire life. You're prepared to do whatever needs to be done to keep your throne and save your people, and that's incredible. I'm in awe of it, in awe of you. But I don't know a damned thing about being royalty, and worse, my magic is still so untrained and unfocused. If we're being completely honest, I'm as likely to get you killed as I am to save you in this war."
"Come with me," Keel said, grabbing my wrist and practically dragging me out the door. I had to pick up my pace to keep my shoulder from being wrenched from its socket.
He didn't say anything as he pulled me through the compound, and I was breathing hard by the time we arrived in the royal chambers. He knocked the remainder of the wind from my lungs by crushing me up against the same door he had earlier, only now he wasn't kissing me.
"Stop doubting yourself." Keel breathed the words into my face. "Especially out there. You and me, we can never show weakness. We must be rigid, unyielding in our rule. You must face your people. Hold your head high. You will not feel guilt for the actions of the people who betrayed you and put a bounty on your head and mine, regardless of the looks on my Council's faces. Do you understand me?"
So he was pissed I'd been staring at the table, and the doubt monster that reared its head after the meeting probably hadn't helped.
"Do you understand me?" he repeated, the question almost a growl now and I wondered if it was Keel or his beast that was asking.
"I understand," I said quietly. "No more weakness." I thought of the stories Garstatt had told me about him and Etan. Did it start like this? Joining. And then agreeing. And then doing things you never would have done? Keel was a chameleon, a shape-shifter, a master manipulator, but I was still grasping for what he needed me to be, what the consummation had given me, who I was in all of this.
"Good, because you are Mildred Argarast. The first Nosferatu queen. And when you're in the same room with me your blood, your lips, your body drowns out everyone and everything else. I thought that would end after we sealed the bond, but it hasn't. I may be a king of the night, but you're fire, you're the sun. Beautiful and destructive. Everything I have ever wanted." Keel dropped his lips to mine, and repeated his words in his kiss. The moment he pulled away he started speaking again. "I hunger for you from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, and then during the day in my dreams. It's the bond. It's your blood. It's you. You cannot doubt yourself, because I do not doubt you. Not for one minute. You might be the strongest person in this whole compound, and you don't even realize it." He took a step backward and unclasped the front of his robe, his fingers making short work of the shirt buttons underneath until his chest lay bare. A slash of a claw drew forth a line of dark crimson and the smell of Keel's blood exploded into the air, dizzying me. "Let me help you understand."
"No fair," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from the cut and the trickles of red making their way down Keel's abs. I'd drank from him earlier, but that didn't tamp my need or desire. It was like the first time every time.
"You're fighting it again. Why? Refusing it only gives it more teeth."
I had no idea why I was holding back, especially not when I'd need to connect myself back up to the machine and start bleeding again soon enough. The longer I resisted the more my fangs ached, and the harder it grew to hold onto my thoughts. Need. Blood. Want. Blood. Want him. The desire was so carnal, so raw it shocked me.
"There it is," Keel said. "Feel it. You have to stop being so afraid of the Nosferatu parts of yourself. They will help you, both out there and in the coming battle. And don't think I haven't noticed that even your grand plan involves bleeding yourself for us."
I did feel the Nosferatu cells inside me. They roiled and shoved against the sorcerer parts. They wanted and wanted and wanted like the rest of me never did. I stood there feeling until I was nothing more than the sum of that want and hunger, a bundle of nerves that would implode if Keel didn't touch me and feed me and kiss me and-
"Stop it," I whispered, unsure if this was his doing or my beast's.
"Give in," he said, sharper, almost an order, just enough to break the tenuous grip I had on my self control. I flew at him, mouth colliding with the bloody swath of skin. He wrapped his arms around me and lowered us both to the floor, where he laid back and allowed me to scrabble over him, licking at the blood.
As always, he tasted like heaven, like power, and all exotic points in between. When his blood was in play nothing else mattered. He stroked my hair as I drank from him, and I didn't stop until the cut had dried and there was nothing left to lick away. My fangs ached for a nibble more, one quick dip into his cold, white flesh, but I was back to denying.
"How do you feel?" he asked, sitting up and meeting my eyes with his own.
"Like I could tear down a mountain with my bare hands." I flexed my fingers. "And still hungry."
"Perfect."
"Also a bit embarrassed," I admitted somewhat sheepishly. Keel may be used to letting go, but it still didn't feel right to me. Control was important, without it there would only be chaos, and the regret that would inevitably follow.
"Let's focus on the mountain."
"Why?"
"Because my father, your father, your human family, and I have all done you a grave disservice. We conditioned you to follow rules, to submit, to obey, and none of that is the least bit useful to you anymore. You need to lead now, to rule, to be bold and assertive and unapologetic in all things, and we don't have time to gently unwrite seventeen years of programming."
My stomach tightened as I wondered what exactly he was proposing.
He got up and walked to the training area, where he plucked the horse whip off the wall. I could still remember its whistle and sting, the pain and the blood, all Keel's lessons. I wrapped my arms around myself to hold in the shudder threatening to roll through me. Next, he went to one of the cupboards beside the racks and dug through the topmost drawer until he found what he was looking: a pair of handcuffs.
"Come and join me in the gym," he said, tacking on a pointed "now" when I hesitated.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he secured one of the cuffs around his wrist.
"Trading places."
"I don't understand."
"You need to rule."
"I'm sorry I still don't understand."
He picked up the whip and placed it in my hands. "I've done many terrible things to you since my transition. And while I can no longer hurt you, I'm pretty sure the bond didn't gift me that same immunity."
"You don't honestly think-"
"No, I don't think. I expect." He retreated across the mats and hooked the cuffs over one of the tall joints of the weapons rack, leaving his back prone and exposed.
I stood there for a long time, whip in hand, wondering if I was going to go through with this. When I finally crossed the mats to where he'd strung himself up it was with great trepidation.
"You don't have to do this," I said.
"You're wrong."
I ran my fingers across his oddly translucent skin, feeling each ridge of muscle and bone and scar tissue. He sighed, and I stilled my hand. "What is this supposed to teach me?"
"You'll see. Now uncoil the whip." My hands obeyed the order, old habits died hard.
"Good, now give it a couple swings, get used to its weight in your hand."
I gave it a flick, two, it felt good, natural, even though I'd never had any training with whips.
"Feels nice, doesn't it? All that power right there in your hand, kind of like magic."
I nodded.
"How many times have you wanted to punish me for using you and your friends to get what I wanted."
"But that was an act."
"Parts of it, sure. But you have to know I loved having power over you, loved a great many of those little games, and I wouldn't be relinquishing it now if you'd be any use to me subservient, but you wouldn't. I need a sorceress, not a slave. A queen, not a bleeder."
He was goading me on, trying to whip my beast into the frenzy he'd started with his kiss and his blood, but wasn't this just more of the same? Someone telling me what to do and how to be.
"No," I snapped. "I get that you want me to be a Nosferatu queen, but you need to hear me when I say that as even as a queen I will not do this." I threw the whip at him. It made a dull slapping sound as it bounced off his bare skin and fell to the ground at his feet. "Even now, you're telling me how to rule. Don't you see that? You're part of the problem."
Keel laughed, and popped the lock on the cuffs, freeing himself. "There she is."
My face crinkled up in confusion. "You knew?"
"I knew you wouldn't whip me. Not even after everything. It's your weakness. But you also just proved you can turn it into a strength. If you can't muscle your way through on sheer guts and willpower, use that defiance and frustration."
"Maybe," I said, though I didn't share his confidence. "Perhaps you should just tell me what you want from me?"
"No more submission. Especially out there."
"Okay."
"Good," he said, pulling me close. "I'm happy we could have this conversation." His breath tickled my ear as he spoke.
"Keel."
"Yes, Mildred." He grazed his lips and fangs along my neck in a series of nips and kisses. A bonfire roared to life inside me.
I stepped back to remove myself from the immediacy of its blaze, then met his darkening eyes with my own.
"What is it?" he asked.
When I opened my mouth, the words that came out sounded like the official decree of a queen - firm, clear and unwavering. "From now on you will address me as Mills. Do you understand?"
Keel's hands slipped down to my waist and pulled me back against him. The bond flared with electricity. "Implicitly."
"Keel," I said again.
"Is there something else, my queen?"
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Is there something else, Mills?" My heart pounded at the sound of my name on his lips. I hoped I'd hear it over and over again tonight.
"Yes. Take me to bed."
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Author's Note: This chapter was beyond fighty and I may yet rewrite it for a fourth time when I get to the next wave of edits on this book, but for now I need to let go and move on. There are wars to fight and all that.