Authors: P R Mason
Rom charged at Prince Leopold grabbing him by the neck and backing him against the mantle. With an easy motion the prince raised a hand and knocked Rom’s arm aside. He pushed Rom’s shoulders with his palms. From the minimal effort the prince exerted I would have expected Rom not to move at all, but instead he flew back six feet as if attached to a stunt man’s rigging and smashed into a shelf on the opposite wall. The shelf broke and shifted sending its books falling to the floor.
“Now see what you’ve done?” The prince strolled to the corner and grasped the bellpull for the servants.
Rom slid to the ground and with one eye still on the prince I ran to him and kneeled down.
“Are you okay?” I pushed the hair out of his eyes.
“I will recover.” Rom put one hand to his head and clutched at his back with the other.
“Don’t do something so stupid again,” I snapped. “The prince has superhuman vampire powers. Remember?”
“Now I do.” He grabbed my hand. “You cannot give him your blood,” Rom insisted.
“Trust me,” I said. “I know what I’m doing.”
I hoped I did know because we only had two hours, twenty minutes, three seconds left.
* * * * *
Surprisingly quickly, Rom and I were loaded into a royal carriage drawn by two of those vampire horses. Our carriage rolled along as part of a caravan. I hoped Juliette and Billy rode in one of the others.
We soon arrived at the foot of Tower Bridge and waited, trapped inside for what seemed an interminable time. Finally, with only one hour, two minutes, six seconds left, a ghoul guard opened the carriage door.
A path into the north tower was spread out before us lined by the prince’s guard, each holding a lantern. My eyes were drawn to the walkway overhead where another row of lanterns burned.
Rom and I climbed out of our carriage as Juliette and Billy emerged from another and joined us on the path.
“Are we finally going home?” Billy asked.
“I hope so,” I replied as we proceeded into the tower.
At the foot of the three hundred stairs to the top, Billy stopped.
“We’re gonna have to climb up?” Billy complained. “Why can’t we take the elevator?”
“Why don’t you go right ahead,” I drawled. “If you make it to the top, we’ll see you there.”
“It's okay, Billy.” Juliette grasped his hand and pulled him to the stairs. “Come on.”
At the top, Prince Leopold and an entourage of extravagantly dressed vampires were clustered around the door to the south tower, the door that would become the portal to the vortex and hopefully our way home. In addition to the vampires, Eugene stood nervously fidgeting. I was shocked to see the wizard Gethin wearing a miserable expression as he sat in a cane wheelchair.
At the sight of us, the prince broke into a wide grin and spread his arms wide.
“Kizzy,” he said. “We are prepared to open the door to the new world. Make me the key.”
“There is just one last thing,” I said.
“Ah yes.” The prince snapped his fingers at Eugene. The majordomo stepped forward and handed me my messenger bag. Flipping back the flap, I noted the Downy Woundwort plants still inside. After closing the bag, I placed its strap over my shoulder and across my chest.
With my heart beating fast, I took a long breath in and then blew it out.
“I’m ready.”
I walked to Prince Leopold and held out my left arm. The pale blue vein on the inside of my elbow stood out prominently, a river of blood rushing through me even as the river water rushed under us.
“No, Kizzy,” Rom shouted and dashed forward.
Two ghouls immediately grabbed him, but Rom’s strength carried all three of them toward me.
“Rom, stop,” I cried.
Two more ghoul guards piled on and this time dragged him to a halt.
“It appears your ghoul bitten boyfriend cannot contain himself,” the prince observed. “Bind his hands,” the prince ordered and a ghoul guard nodded. Another guard brought out a rope.
“Don’t.” I held up a hand.
“The freedom of Mr. Calixo’s hands was not a part of our bargain, Kizzy.”
Rom’s arms were forced behind him and tied together. The ghoul on the right held Rom’s rope tightly, not allowing him to move.
“Are you going to carry through with your part?” the prince asked.
“Yes,” I answered, holding out my arm again. “Go for it.”
My stance was defiant and I fixed my face into a calm mask. But my outward bravado was at serious odds with the inward quaking. What the hell was I doing? Letting a vampire bite me? Hadn’t I seen his promo video? He could kill me faster than Juliette could throw up a fattening dessert.
Prince Leopold approached me with a little boy “I’m about to open a Christmas present” expression. After rubbing his hands together he grasped my arm like an ear of corn. I had to look away. This is just like giving blood at the Red Cross, I chanted to myself. A little pinch wouldn't be bad would it? But the pinch wasn’t little. Not a pinch at all, more like an ice pick piercing my arm.
But if it weren't for the pain in my arm, the slurping and sucking sounds I heard would probably have made me faint. I felt relatively okay for about a minute or so. After that I began to see blue, white and green lights flicking behind my eyelids and perspiration broke out on my forehead.
“Stop.” My voice sounded weak to my ears. “Stop, Prince.”
The slurping and sucking continued. Turning my head toward my arm, I pried open my eyes and took in the sight of the prince’s head bent over my arm. Two rivulets of blood ran down my white skin and dripped to the walkway. The image before my eyes wavered and tilted. I knew I was about to lose consciousness. If that happened, I knew I’d be dead.
“The blood…can't be stolen,” I choked out. “Remember…prophecy.”
The ice pick teeth withdrew gradually and Prince Leopold's head lifted. He wore an expression of ecstasy with his eyes closed tight, his mouth in a feline smile. His lower face dripped with red.
“Your blood,” he murmured, his tongue swiping at his lips. “Intoxicating.” He licked the two puncture wounds on my arm and the oozing from them slowed. The prince released me and I covered the punctures with pressure. After a few seconds, when I lifted my hand, the bleeding had stopped. Still, I was left with a palm full of blood.
The prince laughed. “Intoxicating!” he shouted to the sky. He whirled but as he completed the circuit, he stumbled, which made him giggle.
“Where’sssss…” His words were slurred as he staggered about.
The prince seemed drunk. Drunk on my blood.
The prince stumbled again.
“Highness” Eugene stepped in to grab him by the arm. “Are you ill?”
“I am vampire!” Prince Leopold shouted. “No illness…How…”
The prince spun around and stared at me for long seconds. “What have you…Did you?” His gaze went to the messenger bag. “Those plants. You ate…Then I…”
Eugene glared at me. “You ate the Woundwort? But that could—”
“Put the prince in a coma,” I finished for him.
The prince, bleary eyed and uncoordinated, stumbled to Gethin in his wheelchair. “Do something,” Prince Leopold screamed, gripping the arms of the chair and shaking it. “You must…”
A smile slowly spread across Gethin’s face.
“No, Highness. I do not need to do anything. You will fall into a coma and I will do nothing.”
“Not do…You?” The prince’s eyes widened in shock and then his eyes reddened with rage. “Traitor,” he screamed.
Prince Leopold's arm rose before swinging down, striking the wizard on the side of the head. The wheelchair flew across the walkway, skidded and rolled to the bridge's edge. When it crashed into the barrier, the chair jerked and the wizard was thrown out. The grinning Gethin lay on the walkway, placing a hand to his head.
The vampire entourage had commenced chattering to one another. A few words— “coma”, “weak”, and “defeated”—were audible. The expressions on their various faces turned contemptuous as they eyed the prince. One member of the group stepped forward clearing his throat.
“Highness,” the vampire said. “There is clearly no portal to another world, merely a plot by this human to set a trap. One which you have fallen into, I might add.” The others nodded in agreement. “We have decided to go and not endanger ourselves in the open this way on a fool’s errand.”
At the words “fool’s errand” a laugh burst from me. I couldn’t help remembering my discussions with Rom about our “fool’s errand.”
The prince rounded and fixed me with his red, penetrating glare. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rom move but the two ghouls at his shoulder held him back.
“You traitor,” The prince cried pointing at the lead vampire spokesman. His arm made a wide sweeping gesture. “All traitors.” He stumbled to a guard. “Sssseize them,” he stammered.
The guard, seemingly confused, glanced at two other guards as if asking them what to do. Then he simply shrugged.
“Ahhhhhhhhhgggggggg,” the prince screamed and turned toward me again.
With another scream he charged at me. His hands were raised as if he would tear me apart. I scrambled backward, but he moved with lightning speed. Before I could blink, his hands were wrapped around my throat.
This was it
, I thought.
Gone. Dead. Over
.
But the prince exerted no pressure. With his hands at my neck, his red eyes rolled back in his head so that only pinkish whites were visible. He slowly slumped to the ground. As he went down, I pushed his body away from me and he landed in a crumpled heap at my feet. He lay there unconscious. In a coma.
Rom broke away from his captors and ran in my direction. Shouting to Juliette and Billy to follow also, I sprinted for the door to the south tower—the door to the vortex if I could open it. At the moment the four of us reached the door, an explosion from around the foot of the north tower shook the walkway.
The members of the vampire entourage screamed and squealed. They ran toward the door of the south tower…the one I should be opening into a vortex. A second explosion sounded, rocking us, from the south tower base. The vampire elite turned and headed in the opposite direction.
The ghoul guard soldiers threw down their lanterns. They milled about in confusion as to what to do with their rifles and swords. An officer stepped out and shouted orders. I hoped it didn’t include shooting us.
Just as a ghoul guard turned his weapon on our group, a shot rang out, followed by a barrage.
Omigod they’re shooting at us
, I thought.
But we weren’t hit. Instead, the ghoul guards fell one after another to the walkway with oozing black wounds. I realized the gunfire was coming from the opposite walkway. A group of at least twenty resistance fighters stood up from the prone positions that had previously hidden them from our view. They had weapons trained on the vampires and ghouls. Amy stood to one side yelling orders.
With the confusion—the chaos of gunfire, the screaming and the explosions—around us, Juliette, Billy, Rom and I huddled at the door. Blood from the prince’s bite coated the hand I’d used to stem the flow. I smeared it on the door then grasped my great grandmother’s necklace and tore at it. The metal chain cut into the skin of my neck before breaking. I pressed the swirling circle disc to the blood smear praying this would work.