Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus
Chapter Six
Iwasn’t exactly sure what I intended to do when I reached the temple, but I knew I couldn’t drag Willa down this destructive path. She guided me to a magic socket by the Hatch and handed me a charger.
“Thanks.” I slipped it into a connector in the hem of my floor-length tunic, and an image of my uniform appeared as an empty power gauge on the Hatch’s door.
Willa whistled. “You’ve been busy.”
“I overdid it with the holy flames,” I said with a nervous laugh.
After charging my habit with magic from the veil to the wimple to the boots, I pulled out my phone, fired up the Überwald app, and tried to order the budget service. The phone buzzed, and an effort message flashed.
ORDER DENIED.
“What?” I frowned at the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Willa rose from where she’d been sitting on the mattress.
“It’s not letting me order a car,” I muttered.
“Let me see.” She stood at my side, tapped at the handset to look up my history. My latest attempt at ordering a car was at the top in red with the label, INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.
“It looks like the Achtung you ordered wiped out your account,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Your new top-of-the range spellphone probably didn’t help.”
I clenched my teeth and smoothed out my pained expression. Prince Draconius had spent my money on the phone, a sumptuous meal I didn’t get to eat, and goodness knows what else.
“Let me order you a car from my account,” Willa said.
“There’s no need.” I slipped the phone in my pocket. “Night busses run from the center to the stop outside the temple. And they only cost a bronze.”
Willa shook her head. “With everything going on right now, I think you should use a more secure method of transport.”
I was about to protest, but she held up a hand. “Please, Yana. I wouldn’t be able to relax if I knew you were out there in the dark.”
My shoulders sagged. “I’ll pay you back.”
“After everything you and the Sisters have done for me?” she replied with a scoff. “Without Mother Hecate’s petitions to the Supernatural Council, Neutrals like me would never have qualified for government jobs.”
I gave her a tight smile, still feeling awkward for having come here. After everything she’d suffered, Willa needed a fresh start, not my vampire-related baggage. I hoped Prince Draconius wouldn’t track me to the Council.
Willa tapped a few commands on her app, which pinged. “That was fast.”
“Is the car downstairs already?”
She nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”
My driver turned out to be the same one from before, who took me back to the temple in silence. The center of Logris whizzed past in my periphery with specks of light reflecting on its lakes, but I pulled my gaze away from the sight to stare down at my lap.
Prince Draconius hadn’t said another word into my head since issuing that ultimatum. Perhaps he had given up on tormenting me because I hadn’t responded? I reached beneath my veil and rubbed the fabric covering the back of my neck. My transgressions against the ancient vampire were mounting. There was no way he would give up on me so easily.
“Temple of Light.” The driver pulled up outside the gates.
It was still dark outside, with strips of white light streaming down from the patches of snow that had formed atop the domes. I stepped out of the cab, thanked the driver, and stared at the temple.
The priestesses had lit more torches, including the huge fire pit we usually reserved for festivals. Today, with most of the lights still not working, it shone like a beacon in our corner of the village. I could see the outline of the other Sisters still tending to the gardens, and my heart twanged with a pang of guilt.
I’d left them when they needed me most. Worst of all, I needed to sneak past them so I could work on the next stage of my plan to protect myself from the wrath of Prince Draconius.
Two of the chattiest novices in the temple stood at the open gates. They were deep in conversation as I crept inside, and neither of them noticed my presence. Keeping to the garden’s darkest spots and away from the numerous torches, I headed toward the building’s side entrance.
If I could activate the protective spells I’d set up against powerful vampires, I might be able to ward off the prince. There was always the option of making a second doll, but that would require getting close to him and stealing more of his samples.
“Yana.”His hard voice hit me like a bludgeon, and made me stumble over my feet. I bumped into a pile of logs, knocking one to the ground.
The darkness shifted, and bright light streamed down from above. I gazed up at the snow-covered dome that encased the city and scowled. Of all the times for the darkness to disappear, why did it have to be while I was trying to sneak past the other nuns?
“Sister Yana?” said Richelle’s nasal voice. “Where have you been all this time?”
A thin figure jogged toward me, her pink blotches clashing with her purple habit. My nostrils flared. Richelle was the queen of pointing out my screw-ups. She’d probably noticed I was missing the moment I disappeared.
Dipping my head, I stalked toward the temple’s steps and acted like I didn’t notice she’d spotted me.
“Yana, where are you going?” Richelle shouted loud enough to attract the attention of Sister Mariah.
“Sister Yana.” The priestess who had taken care of us when we were little stalked toward me. She was a tall, round-faced woman with high cheekbones that gave her a permanent smile. She wore a black habit like all priestesses, which contrasted with her pale-as-milk skin.
“Sister Richelle has been concerned for your whereabouts,” she said. “I understand she looked for you in the temple and in the cells but you were nowhere to be found. Where on earth did you go?”
“That’s why I need to see Mother Hecate,” I blurted.
The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “Our Goddess Mother is in prayer. Is there anything we can do to help?”
I shook my head. “It’s something I wanted to run past her first.”
Sister Mariah wrapped an arm around my shoulders and steered me toward the other end of the garden. “You may as well make yourself busy while you’re waiting for her to finish.”
My heart sank. This was a waste of time. Prince Draconius would descend upon us at any moment to snatch me away, and I needed to act. Now.
“I’m in trouble,” I said.
Sister Mariah paused. “In what manner?”
“One of the vampires I encountered recently wants to punish me for disrespect.”
“Caliban,” Richelle said from behind us. “While we were all confined to a blood salon, Sister Yana engaged him and his friends in a spot of banter. I wondered why I saw a flash of red hair from beyond the gates.”
I turned to meet her translucent blue eyes. “He was here?”
The other novice raised her shoulders. “I’m not sure, but it certainly looked like him.”
“Sister Richelle,” Sister Mariah said, her tone sharp. “You would do well not to tease another on a matter so serious.”
Richelle dipped her head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Any other day, I might have felt a flare of triumph that Sister Mariah had seen through Richelle’s tactics. The older woman had known us all since we were either born or handed to the temple’s orphanage. Today, the tremors in the pit of my gut turned into a full-scale earthquake.
I had three excruciating choices. One, tell the Sisters what I’d done, and I would get excommunicated. Excommunicated, homeless, and wholly at the mercy of Prince Draconius. Two, I could stay quiet, deal with the Vampire Prince myself, and add to my alienation with more dirty secrets.
Option three was out of the question. If I ran away from Prince Draconius, he would report me to the Council for dark magic, and I would condemn every innocent woman in the temple to a deadly punishment. Mother Hecate would be without worshippers, and the people we helped would continue to suffer.
“Yana?” Sister Mariah’s voice was like a balm. “Is there anything you would like to tell me in confidence?”
I swallowed hard. There was no such thing as secrecy in a temple as small as ours, especially when everyone’s first loyalty was to our goddess, who happened to live among us.
“This is something I need to tell Mother Hecate.”
The older woman nodded and swept her arm to the side. “The earthquake broke the holy cypress tree in half and snapped off its branches. Why don’t you help put it back together?”
I turned to a six-foot-tall evergreen that bent and twisted like a bonsai. Two other novices and a priestess called Sister Lindsay held hands in a circle around its split trunk and tilted their heads up toward its snapped branches. They chanted the same incantation over and over, attracting pieces of wood from all corners of the garden, including the rubble-filled containers.
I walked over to them, placed my fingers on a pair of joined hands, and pushed my magic into their bodies. It was our way of indicating that we were ready to connect to the circle.
The two acolytes released their hands and laced their fingers with mine. I tilted my head up toward the branches, my heart sinking. Repairing anything that was broken required a lot of magic. Magic that I needed to preserve for fending off Prince Draconius.
Hours later, my coif was drenched in sweat, and every muscle in my body ached from the amount of power I channeled with the other Sisters into the cypress tree. It stood tall and proud, looking as though it hadn’t been the victim of a supernatural quake.
Sister Lindsay released the circle and stepped back.
“Good work, Sisters.” She placed her hands together and beamed. “Thanks to you, the holy cypress is now restored.”
The other acolytes sagged alongside me, each exchanging smiles. For the first time in months, I felt a connection with my Sisters.
By now, the sun hovered close to the horizon, and the shadows lengthened across the garden like wraiths. It was darker than the usual January evening, but I expected that the Council was still adjusting the wards to compensate for the humans knowing the location of Logris.
“Sister Yana.” Sister Mariah placed a hand on my shoulder. “Mother Hecate is waiting for you in the hospice.”
My posture sagged. I’d forgotten about that excuse.
The older woman marched me around the gardens, which were now a display of greens and whites and browns. Between the Sisters, we had repaired all the most important trees, but some of the shrubs were either sparse or completely missing.
Wood chips crunched underfoot to the beat of my sluggish heart. “Did you set up this meeting?”
She gazed down at me with her brow furrowed. “Your recent behavior is worrying. The young girl I knew was quiet but enthusiastic about her duties and always willing to reach out a helping hand to her Sisters. Now, nobody can fathom why you’re so withdrawn.”
I glanced to the side, wishing I could tell her, but the more people who knew about what I had done to Prince Draconius, the more chance that information would leak to the other Sisters, Mother Hecate, or even the Supernatural Council.
The temple loomed fifty feet to our right, with priestesses in black busying themselves beneath the colonnade. Some swept away dust, others polished the building’s limestone façade. On our left, the garden stretched another fifty feet toward the wrought iron fence. A few men stood beyond the railings, gazing at us at work.
Sister Mariah sighed. “Are you having a crisis of faith?”
Flinching, I met her hazel eyes. “No.” The word tumbled from my lips. “How could I possibly lose my belief in a living goddess?”
“Then why don’t you trust in Mother Hecate?” asked Sister Mariah.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. Then I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”
“The Goddess Mother’s patience is not infinite.”
A knot tightened in my stomach. “Yes, Sister.”
We veered off the wood chip path and joined a paved walkway that led to a much smaller stone building. It was a quarter of the temple’s size, surrounded by a small verandah held up by twelve-foot-tall columns. A plaster statuette of Mother Hecate stood on the roof with its arms outspread, welcoming all.
Sister Mariah paused at the hospice’s wooden door. “Tread carefully, Yana,” she murmured. “You were one of the few children brought to us without a family, and you have a home with us at the temple.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle, waiting for her to say what she’d left unspoken. As an orphan, I would have nowhere to go if Mother Hecate turned me away. As someone who had both lived in and been educated by the temple my entire life, I had no recognizable qualifications to compete in the Supernatural job market, and I had no friends or family beyond these iron gates.
She stepped backward before turning on her heel and striding away.
For the next few heartbeats, I stared at her retreating figure. I didn’t need to be an expert in linguistics to understand that my continued secrecy was jeopardizing my place in the temple. I also didn’t need to be a seer to know that blurting out the truth would accelerate my banishment or excommunication.
I turned back to the hospice’s door and inhaled a deep, fortifying breath. Mother Hecate wanted to know what was wrong, and I would give her something, but not the whole truth. Just enough for me to remain in the temple while I dealt with the problem of Prince Draconius.
The door swung open, and one of the novices from the top floor stepped out. “Mother Hecate says you should stop standing outside and come in.”
I leaned into her and whispered, “Do you know what she wants?”
“No, but be sure to tell me when you find out,” she said.
“Thanks.” I walked around her and into the thirty-foot-wide center of the hospice.
Perspex booths stood to my left and right, each with transparent curtains that offered the patients a little privacy. The booths consisted of a bed with space on either side for a pair of armchairs, a small locker, and a table to contain gifts and cut flowers.
Mother Hecate stood sixty feet away at the back wall. For once, she wasn’t holding her ceremonial torch.
My throat turned to the consistency of parchment, but I forced myself to take the first step over the threshold.
The familiar scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils, mingled with the fresh aroma of cypress. Sisters in white habits tended to patients who were either subdued or sweating under the throes of their withdrawal. Sweat broke out across my skin as I remembered my first and last encounter with thrall.
“Yana,” the goddess’ velvet voice brushed over me like a breeze. “I have been waiting to see you.”
“Yes, Mother?” I rasped.
She stepped through the doorway, leaving me trailing past bed after full bed. Most were victims of vampires. Those who had been exposed to vampire venom over long periods of time, and needed to detoxify, those who had been enthralled to force a dependence on the vampire.
This was my biggest fear. That Prince Draconius would turn me into a mindless junkie willing to do anything, endure any level of degradation for my next dose of thrall.
I followed Mother Hecate through the door that led to an office she used when she worked in the hospice. It was more of a library of mahogany shelves filled with old scrolls and leather-bound books.
Light streamed in through a twelve-foot-tall stained-glass window that depicted her as a woman with three identical heads, standing beneath the full moon in a burgundy gown. In two of her hands, she held a pair of torches, and in the other two, a pair of green snakes. Two red-eyed dogs sat at her feet and stared at me with identical glowers of disapproval.
I tore my gaze from the display to find a small tray on her desk, which contained a bowl of soup and a thick slice of bread.
“Sister Mariah suspected you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.” Mother Hecate tilted her head to the side and examined me through midnight-colored eyes. “Or perhaps you had something when you left the temple.”
My throat clenched. “I can explain.”
She pointed at the bowl. “Eat first.”
“Thank you.” I crossed the room, sat on the wooden seat, and picked up the spoon. The soup was tomato and basil but instilled with enough cream and magic to soothe my empty stomach.
Mother Hecate walked to the other side of her desk and settled into her wooden throne. While I ate, she gazed down at me with a patience that made my chest tighten. I hated keeping secrets, yet I was compelled to hide the truth.
“Do you know why I set up this temple?” she asked as I mopped up the last of the soup with my bread.
I swallowed my mouthful. “To help others?”
“And to provide a sanctuary from impurity and corruption.”
“There is something I’ve been meaning to confess,” I said.
Her brows rose. I was sure she had the power to pluck my secret from my memory, but she would never violate my mind. The food churned in my gut, and I placed both hands over my full belly. I had violated the magic she’d taught me, and I’d also violated Prince Draconius’ free will.
“One of the vampires I met during a protest has a grudge against me.”
She nodded. “I had hoped the red-haired fellow would return home and forget about the unfortunate encounter.”
I parted my lips to tell her it wasn’t Caliban, but the door behind us opened with a bang.
The Witch Queen stepped into the room, flanked by a quartet of enforcers, each carrying staffs. Instead of her usual flowing gown, she wore the type of leather catsuit that was standard issue for nuns who ventured outside the temple. Except while we concealed our figures with floor-length tunics, the powerful witch had a cloak.
“So, this is where you’re hiding.” The Witch Queen stalked through the room, her white hair contrasting with her mahogany skin and fanning over her shoulders like it was enchanted.
“Mercredi.” Mother Hecate remained seated but leaned forward, resting her chin on her steepled fingers. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon after the attempted invasion. May I be the first to point out how beautiful you looked in the newsflash?”
The Witch Queen’s features tightened. “We’re here for an inspection.”
Mother Hecate’s smile broadened. “Thank you for checking on my welfare.”
The dark-skinned woman’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “This is a raid. And once we’ve uncovered signs of illegal magic, I will shut down this mockery of a temple.”
My stomach tumbled to the ground and rolled across the marble floor. Depending on the Witch Queen’s mood, her enforcers inspected our temple four or five times a year. The raids were mostly to intimidate or to prove a point, and the enforcers were never particularly thorough.
I had always hidden the darkest of my magic beneath the floorboards, but Prince Draconius had abducted me before I could close the one I’d left open. I was sure the vampire had taken the voodoo doll to use as evidence against me, but there were still plenty of incriminating items strewn about in the room. If I didn’t conceal everything before these enforcers checked our cells, excommunication would be the least of my worries.
Mother Hecate offered me a serene smile. “Will you excuse me, Yana?”
“Of course, Mother.” I rose from my seat with as much false calm as I could muster and strode past the group of enforcers to the doorway.
“And Yana?” said Mother Hecate.
I turned to meet her eyes across the room. “Yes?”
“We will continue this conversation after the inspection.”
“Not if my officers find something incriminating,” said the Witch Queen.
She was the nemesis of our goddess, but every time she invaded the temple, we all teamed up together against her and the enforcers. Those were the times I felt accepted and part of a happy family. But today, the Witch Queen was the last person I wanted to see.
My steps quickened across the hospice. It was time to straighten up my room and hide all evidence of dark magic.
And when Prince Draconius returned to abduct me again, I would make him another voodoo doll.
