‘He thrashed and bore us down, boots kicking my bleeding belly. We crashed into a sunken stone, something inside me ripping. I roared and tried to hold him, but his panic had him by the short and curly ends. His thumb found my eye and his heel crashed into my bollocks and I felt him slip from my arms. Half-blind, I seized a fistful of ashen hair, dragged us back up in an explosion of half-drowned breath.
‘“You kicked my balls, you fuck-eyed little pigdick!”
‘“I c-can’t—” he gulped and gurgled as he sank again.
‘“Stop arsing about and hold onto me!”
‘He tore at me a moment more, two fingers hooked in my mouth and his other arm wrapped over my eyes. But I was yet my father’s son, a strength beyond strength in the curse he’d gifted me, and with the boy gasping on my back, I swam. The bank was too tall, the current too swift, and so we ran with it, along a rising shore, searching for the others.
‘And then, like a hammer on my skull, I felt him.
‘Lonely dark and nightmare deep. The weight of blood-soaked centuries on the backs of my eyes. I peered into the gloom above and I saw him, smelled him, felt him, stalking along the high-flung bank like the father of all wolves. Clad in a long frockcoat and silken frills, a blood-red hunter just a few feet and a thousand miles from his kill.
‘Danton Voss.
‘The rapids rushed swift, but he flitted tree to tree, licking dagger-bright teeth and watching with large, liquid eyes. Dior saw him too, and I heard the boy gasp as Danton’s gaze fell on him. Hand outstretched.
‘“Come here, Dior,” the vampire breathed.
‘“Listen to nothing he says,” I warned, paddling backwards from the bank.
‘“Come to me.”
‘“He’s Voss, he’ll get into your head,” I hissed, kicking hard to keep us afloat. “Think of nonsense, think of nothing. Fill your mind with noise, loud as you can.”
‘The vampire held Dior in his black gaze, and I felt the boy tense like steel. But strangely, I saw Danton’s eyes narrow, his fingers clench. Dior stared back, ashen white hair plastered across his eyes, but I could tell in a heartbeat that, somehow, he was the stronger. That for all the centuries in Danton’s veins, the lad’s mind was a locked room.
‘“’Tis true, then.” The vampire smiled, bewildered. “All true …”
‘I kicked away into the rapids, ever closer to the northern shoreline. Danton followed on the babbling river’s edge, dark eyes swallowing Dior whole.
‘“I’ve no wish to hurt thee,” the Beast vowed. “’Pon my royal blood, I swear it, boy. My dread father bids me spirit thee to his side. A black crown shall he place upon thy brow, and do thee homage, as a priest to Gods of old. Fear. Pain. Hatred. Dread sovereign of all this shalt thou be. The Forever King himself shall bow to thee, Dior.”
‘“Dead tongues heeded are Dead tongues tasted,” I spat.
‘“Worthless wretch,” the vampire snarled. “I speak not to thee.” One hand, pale as marble, still extended. “Come to me, Dior. And I will show thee a life undreamed of.”
‘I felt the boy tense on my shoulders. And for one terrible moment, I thought he might let go. But instead, half-drowned, wheezing, he pulled himself up and spat like poison.
‘“F-fuck you.”
‘The Beast of Vellene’s lips twisted in a dark smile.
‘“You must say please, love.”
‘Danton lowered his hand. His eyes fell on mine, and I could taste it between us – all that blood unspilled. What we each had stolen, and then had stolen from us in kind. The vampire pressed tongue to teeth and spoke into the black rainbows between us.
‘“Thou shouldst have stayed buried, de León …”
‘We reached the northern bank, low enough to the waterline that we could stagger onto it. I helped Dior, dragging the boy through the shallows by his collar before dumping him on the shore. When I turned to face Danton again, he was gone. But his shadow remained, heavy and cold as the water and blood pouring off me in floods. The Beast had forever, but he wouldn’t keep me waiting that long. Still, he’d given me one more kernel. One more sign of how desperately important Dior seemed to be to these bastards.
‘They want him alive …
‘I glanced to the shivering rat at my feet. “You aright, boy?”
‘“I’m all r-right,” he wheezed.
‘“Because you look like shit twice stepped in.”
‘Dior squinted up at me and coughed. “We look n-nothing alike, hero.”
‘I almost laughed, shaking my head in wonder at his front. “Most folk would spare a merci for the man who just saved their lives, Lachance.”
‘He dragged his sopping locks from his eyes, lips pressed thin. But he said nothing.
‘“That fucking coat nearly drowned you. Why didn’t you rip the damned thing off?”
‘“Told you.” Dior coughed hard, spat. “It’s m-magik.”
‘I scoffed, looked up and down the river’s edge. The night was black, the rapids’ roar throwing chill mist into the air. But I saw distant movement, sighed with relief as I spied Jezebel wandering the bank. Her flanks were steaming, mane and tail soaking, but she seemed unhurt, tossing her head and nickering as she spied me in the shallows.
‘“Lucky bitch …”
‘“Gabe?” came a distant cry. “Gabriel!”
‘“Chloe! Down here!”
‘I grabbed Lachance’s magik collar, hauled the boy upright with one hand. We’d cut it close to the bone, but Danton couldn’t pursue us ’til he found another place to cross the river. My greatcoat was rent from those sword blows, blood dribbling over my leathers, but the wounds were slowly stitching closed. My pipe was safe at least, nestled snug against the curve of my …
‘“Oh, shit …” I hissed.
‘Dior blinked, his arms wrapped tight and shivering. “What?”
‘I spun on the spot, heart sinking. “Oh, you saints-buggering, cack-gargling TWATGOBLIN!”
‘“What?” Dior demanded.
‘I knew not how it happened. Mayhaps it’d been cut away when that thrall stuck me with his pig-sticker. More likely, I lost it wrestling with this idiotic little turd as he tried to drown us both. But the hows of it made no difference at all.
‘I’d lost my bandolier. And with it had gone my black ignis, my spare silvershot, my few remaining silverbombs, and worst, worst, worst of all …
‘“God spunks in my spuds once again.”
‘I clawed the waterlogged locks from my face and sighed.
‘“My sanctus is gone.”’
XII
OLD MONARCHS, NEW SOVEREIGNS
‘“WE’VE LOST MOST of our weapons. All our food. And every horse we had, save Jezebel.”
‘Chloe sighed, head in hands. “You should really think of a better name for her, Gabe.”
‘We were gathered in the shallow belly of a sandstone cave, somewhere in the hills north of the Dílaenn. Dawn had broken like a bridal chalice at a wedding feast, bringing all the same ill fortune. The weather was running straight to hell, and our only meal was the mushrooms Saoirse had scrounged. Phoebe had managed to find us at least, the big cat purring like an earthquake as her mistress scratched her behind the ears. We’d got a fire going to dry out our freezing clothes, but that was the extent of our good news. And the bad news was piling up like bodies to the sky.