Cerie scowled as she paced the living room of the Victorian home that she and Cora had taken up residence in. Her mind whirled for a solution to her dilemma. She’d blatantly lied to the zombie in an effort to assure his cooperation. Over the centuries, cruelty by her enemies that often involved the amputation of hands to prevent casting spells was done to her people. Because of this, she’d long ago learned the correct magic for the regeneration of body parts. She could easily correct the situation with the witches, but she had no intention of tackling the curse that King Landon had cast on the zombies. To do so would be beyond stupid.
Recently, rumors had reached her ears that the king was finally softening toward those he’d cast out of his realm and he was contemplating allowing their return. Since she longed for her home, she wanted to do nothing to jeopardize that possibility.
Unfortunately, zombies weren’t all that forgiving when crossed. She dreaded what they’d do once they realized that she’d never intended to honor her promise. Her only hope was that the pesky scientist would figure out how to do it for her.
She wondered if he’d remember her visit to the castle while he was held captive and hold it against her. After all, she did nothing to help his plight. The fact that he was attempting to stunt the vampire traits of the infants instead of destroying them was also a problem. First and foremost, she needed to find out his exact attitude toward those babies. Maybe he just didn’t have it in him to kill something that he considered innocent. They may be evil creatures in the making, but for all appearances, they were simply innocent newborns and he was a mere human. She not only understood his situation, but she didn’t fault him for it. If it looked like he could be persuaded to abandon his quest to bind their vampirism and turn away while she did the deed that he just couldn’t bring himself to do, she wouldn’t have to seek the aid of the zombies. Thus, there’d be no worry about her false promise to them.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave,” she muttered aloud.
“When first we practice to deceive,” said a familiar male voice from a distance.
With her eyes whirling about, she frantically tried to locate the male belonging to the voice that she knew but couldn’t place.
“Who are you?” she bellowed. “Where are you? Come! Show yourself before I get angry.”
Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Samuel sauntering toward her house in the distance. It was no secret that vampires had acute hearing capabilities, but the fact that he was able to project his voice so clearly from so far away meant only one thing. He’d syphoned a goodly amount of magic from the witches.
Her thoughts quickly flashed back to when the vampire king, Rowan, overdosed on her magic through sex until he exploded. Clearly, his replacement had learned from Rowan’s mistake. If it was a mistake, that is. She knew that the ancient vampire had mistreated his body to the extent that it was wearing out and ready to expire. This was a rarity with vampires, but it did sometimes occur. More than once when she thought back on that fateful day, she wondered if it hadn’t been the old king’s choice of exit rather than a foolish mistake.
The true mistake had been on her part. She’d foolishly allowed him to syphon so much magic from her while reveling in the aggressive passion between them that, by the time she realized how much he was weakening her, it was too late to stop him. As a result, she’d been victim to Oscar’s abusive assaults and Samuel’s systematic syphoning from her through sex and the drinking of her blood. Had she not been able to convince Cora to help her escape, she’d more than likely have died at their hands.
With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, she shouted, “Come no further, fool. I am not the weakened old crone you abused. My magic is back and stronger than ever!”
With a smile that bordered on sarcastic, Samuel stopped in his tracks. Cocking his head to the side, he said, “I guessed as much by your beauty.”
“Why have you come?” she asked. “You are either very brave or desperate for a favor.”
Making no move to get closer, the vampire king stood with a relaxed stance and spoke in a clear, steady tone that, without magic, would never have been able to reach the witch’s ears.
“Perhaps it is a little of both,” he cooed.
Placing her hands on her hips, Cerie snarled, “Out with it.”
“I am sure that you heard about the massacre at my home,” Samuel began. When Cerie sneered and chuckled, he scowled and said, “The zombies are no friend to the witches either. You could be next.”
“Did they not rescue the witches you were holding captive?” Cerie asked with raised brow. “Witches that you butchered, raped, and impregnated?”
“The butchering was not my idea,” Samuel weakly protested.
“Ah, but it was something that you allowed,” she chastised. “You are the new king, are you not? You could have prevented it, could you not?”
Samuel looked away as he admitted, “It was done before I learned of it.”
Cerie sucked in air as she asked, “By Oscar?” When the vampire king nodded, she added, “He is your protégé, is he not?”
“I am his maker, yes,” Samuel admitted.
“His maker and his king, yet he shows you little, if any respect,” she mused with a tone that hinted of amusement. “I doubt very much if he would have done such a thing prior to getting King Rowan’s permission.”
Annoyed that she was pointing out to him what had already passed through his mind, he scowled and said, “We need to stop those zombies before they try something else.”
“I understand you avoided the massacre because you were on another raid,” she grumbled. “Do you have more witches?”
“We need them more than ever now. Our numbers are so low,” he explained with conviction. “Once they have birthed more offspring, we will release them.”
“You will release them now or you will deal with the zombies on your own,” she demanded.
“How will we rebuild if we let them go?” he asked with sincerity.
“How about doing it the old fashioned way?” she snarled. “Go visit the humans and bite a few of them.”
“You disapprove of our new abilities for procreating,” he said with angst.
“It is against the way of King Landon,” she said with surety. “It is risky to go against such a powerful king.”
“Is he a reality?” Samuel earnestly asked. “I have heard stories of him, but they sound more like fables than truth.”
“Trust me, he is real,” she firmly stated. “Let us hope he does not catch wind of what is happening. A visit from such a beast would not be pleasant.”
Samuel raised a brow and smirked. “The great and powerful witch fears?”
“The great and powerful witch absolutely fears the even greater and more powerful warlock king,” she assured him. “You should too. He is no one to mess with. He took away vampire magic and their ability to procreate in the womb, he bound a good deal of my powers and forced the werewolves to turn every full moon as punishment for a foolish petty argument over land. He is also responsible for the state of the zombies. The man has power and a temper. If you know what is good for you, you will act with prudence. You will destroy the offspring you have created and cease making more. Be a wise king. Go back to your old ways.”