Betrayed

It all would have been perfect. She clearly remembered the Sword, sitting there, on the floor of the King’s Chapel, in the aisle, just feet from her grasp. She was only seconds away from having it, from fulfilling her mission, from being the hero of their coven.

And then Kyle, and that awful sidekick of his, Sergei, had to come marching in, knocking her out, stealing it from her grasp. It was unfair. How could she have expected that?

And now, what was she? The villain. The one who let the Sword go. The one who failed the mission. Oh yes, there would be hell to pay. She was sure of that.

All she wanted now was for Sam to be safe. He had been knocked out, unconscious, and she had carried him away, had taken him all the way back here. She’d wanted him close. She wasn’t ready to let him go, and she didn’t know where else to bring him. She had snuck in, and had stored him safely, way underground, in an empty chamber in their coven. No one had seen her, at least as far as she knew. He would be safe in there, away from the prying eyes of these vampires. She would report to Rexius, suffer her punishment, and afterwards, she would wait until daybreak, when everyone was asleep, and she would escape with Sam.

Of course, she couldn’t just escape outright. She’d have to report back first, to suffer her punishment, or else her coven would hunt her down, and she would be on the run for the rest of her life. Once she was punished, no one would pursue them. Then she could take Sam, and they could flee far from here, and settle down somewhere. Just the two of them.

She hadn’t expected the boy, Sam, to grab hold of her feelings the way he had. When she thought of her priorities now, she thought of him first. She wanted to be with him. She needed to be with him. In fact, as crazy as it sounded, even to herself, she could no longer picture life without him. She was furious at herself. She did not know how she had let it reach this point. An infatuation with a teenage boy. Much less, a human. She hated herself for it. But it was what it was. There was no use trying to change the way she felt.

The thought of this gave her strength, as she slowly approached Rexius’ throne, preparing for her sentence. She would undergo indescribable pain, she knew that, but the thought of Sam would keep her strong throughout it. She would have something to go back to. And Sam would be protected, spared from all of this. That was what made it all bearable.

But would he love her after she had undergone the punishment? If she knew Rexius, he would reserve the Ioric acid treatment for her, would scar her face as best as he possibly could. She may lose the best part of her looks afterwards. Would Sam still love her? She hoped that he would.

A hush descended over the chamber, as the hundreds of vampires edged in closer, eager to see the exchange. Samantha took several steps closer to Rexius, and got down on one knee, bowing her head.

Rexius, just feet away, stared down from his throne, his harsh, icy blue eyes piercing right through her. He stared at her for what felt like several minutes, although Samantha knew it was probably only seconds. She kept her head down. She knew better than to ever meet his gaze.

“So,” Rexius began, his gravelly voice cutting through the air, “the chicken comes home to roost.”

Several more minutes of silence followed, as he studied Samantha. She knew better than to try to explain herself in any way. She just kept her head bowed low.

“I sent you on a very simple mission,” he continued. “After the failures of Kyle, I needed someone I could trust. My most valuable soldier. You had never let me down before, not in thousands of years,” he said, staring. “But in this, this one simple mission, you have somehow managed to fail. And to fail miserably.”

Samantha lowered her head again.

“So. Tell me exactly what happened to the Sword. Where is it?”

“My master,” she began slowly, “I tracked down the girl. Caitlin. And Caleb. I found them both. And I found the Sword. I even got Caitlin to release it. It was on the floor, just feet from my grasp. In but a few seconds, it surely would have been in my grasp, for me to bring back to you.”

Samantha swallowed.

“I could not have foreseen what happened next. I was surprised, attacked by Kyle—”

A loud murmur erupted throughout the room of vampires.

“Before I could grab the Sword,” she continued, “Kyle had already taken it. He fled from the church, and there was nothing I could do. I tried to find him, but he was long gone. The Sword is now in his possession.”

An even louder murmur spread throughout the room. The anxiety in the room was palpable.

“SILENCE!” screamed a voice.

Slowly, the murmur died down.

“So,” Rexius began, “after all that, you let Kyle take the Sword. You practically handed it to him.”

Samantha knew better, but she couldn’t contain herself. She had to say something in her defense. “My master, there was nothing I could do – ”

Rex interrupted her by simply shaking his head. She dreaded that gesture. It meant bad things were to follow.

“Thanks to you, I must now prepare for two wars. This pathetic war with the humans, and now a war with Kyle.”

A heavy silence blanketed the room, and Samantha felt her punishment was imminent. She was ready to accept it. She held fast in her mind the image of Sam, and the fact that they could not absolutely kill her. They would never do that. There would be a life after this, some kind of a life, and Sam would be in it.

“I have a very special punishment reserved for you I,” Rexius said slowly, breaking into a slow grin.

Samantha heard the wide double doors open behind her, and she turned to see.

Her heart dropped.

There, being dragged in by two vampires, chained by feet and hands, was Sam.

They had found him.

He was gagged, and as much as he squirmed and tried to make a noise, he couldn’t. His eyes opened wide in shock and fear. They dragged him to the side of the room, chains rattling, and held him firmly, forcing him to watch.

“It seems you have not only lost the Sword, but have also developed an affection for a human, despite every rule of our race,” Rexius said. “Your punishment, Samantha, will be to watch suffer that which you hold dearest to you. I can sense that that which is dearest to you is not yourself. It is this boy. This pathetic, little, human boy. Very well,” he said, leaning closer, grinning. “Then that is how you will be punished. We will put this boy through horrific pain.”

Samantha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was something she had not foreseen, and something she could not let happen. At any cost.

She sprang into action, leaping in the direction of Sam’s attendants. She managed to reach one, kicking him hard in the chest. He went flying backwards.

But before she could attack the other, several vampires were on her, grabbing her, pinning her down. She struggled with all she had, but there were just too many of them, and she could not match the strength of all those vampires at once.

She watched helplessly as several vampires dragged Sam forward, towards the center of the room. They positioned him on the spot – the exact spot reserved for those undergoing the high Ioric acid treatment. On a vampire, the punishment was indescribably painful. It scarred for life.

On a human, though, the pain would be incalculable, and the punishment meant a certain, horrific death. They were leading Sam to his execution. And they were forcing her to watch.

Rexius grinned even wider, as Sam was chained down on the spot. As Rexius nodded, one of the attendants tore the tape from his mouth.

Sam immediately looked for Samantha, fear in his eyes.

“Samantha!” he yelled. “Please! Save me!”

Samantha, despite herself, burst into tears. There was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do.

Six vampires rolled forward a huge, iron cauldron, bubbling and hissing, mounted at the top of a ladder. They put it in position, right over Sam’s head.

Sam looked up at it.

And the last thing he saw was the liquid leaving the cauldron, bubbling and hissing, and heading right for his face.

Four

Caitlin was running. The field of flowers climbed as high as her waist, and as she ran, she cut a path right through it. The sun, blood-red, sat as a huge ball on the horizon.

Standing with his back to the sun, on the horizon, was her father. Or at least, his silhouette. His features were unrecognizable, but she knew that it was him.