The King's Consort Ch. 09

Caitlin could almost hear Marianne rattle as she nodded, tears streaming down her face. "You gave me your word that you'd let them go." She got on her knees as fast as someone her age could, the oversized bag falling to the elevator floor at her side. Marianne clasped her hands tight as if in prayer. "Please, let my boys free. They don't know anything."

"I'm sure they do by now." Eamon's smile widened; his canines were already long but his eyes had yet to go black. "But, unfortunately, I am a man of my word." He dipped his head slightly in admission. "Your children are free."

Marianne slid to the elevator floor, sobbing in relief as Eamon's attention turned back to Caitlin, his dark eyes glinting. By the time she realized he was reaching for her, she was already pulled to him, her stomach colliding painfully with his.

A thick hand circled her neck and forced her face up. When she inhaled, it was more shadow stuffs than air around him. Something about him was different than the last time she'd encountered Kalen's father. She'd been surprised not to feel his shadow energy at all, as if he didn't have any.

Now, she came to the dreadful realization that he'd kept it contained within his body whenever she'd been in his presence.

Not anymore.

He was a wellspring of darkness, with nearly as strong a pull as the void, itself. She let a timid breath out as he brought her even closer, the plume of his beard pushing into her chest. "Such a fool, my son, to leave you in this place all by yourself."

His hand gripped tighter, nearly cutting off her airways. Though her heart hammered in her chest, she grabbed his arm and tried to relieve the painful stretch of her neck. "P-please don't-"

Eamon burst into laughter, a loud, echoing sound that resonated through the empty building. He stopped laughing abruptly, his face darkened to something menacing and his eyes finally went black. Then he turned and tossed her to the ground, making her skid a few feet on the unforgiving tile floor. "Spoiled you, he has," he said with disgust. "I should have taken you, myself. A moment of insanity, I assure you." He took several steps towards her, casting a long shadow over her. "I will rectify that mistake tonight."

Caitlin scrambled to her feet and took several steps backwards. He was faster, stronger, and more cunning that she, with nine hundred years at his disposal and fully realized in his vampiric nature. "What did you do to Kalen?"

"Nothing." Eamon shrugged, mocking her with another slow step forward. "At least, nothing that will leave a permanent mark. But my inglorious son was never the target." His eyes bore into her, their blackness all-encompassing as he strode forward, waiting for her to comprehend his own inane goals. Then he inhaled triumphantly through his wide nose. "There it is, that delicious surrender. Do you know what I've got planned for you, vicious girl? You, who erred in tasting my Queen's precious blood?"

Caitlin had forgotten all about Marianne, and even Sara and Zakari, who should have been waiting for them in the lobby. She glanced around the abandoned space, seeing no one. Not even Eamon had brought his own guards. It showed how utterly reckless he'd become.

"No one will help you, here." Eamon's chuckle was low. "Kalen is rather occupied at the moment, as I assume he will be for quite some time. Long enough, at least, for me to become familiar with my newest-"

Through the haze of Eamon's shadow energy, she saw the front door open and a lean, dark figure stood in the entry way for a second, staring intently at the King.

Zakari.

Eamon, too, looked to what had gotten her attention, then his smile widened.

In a flash, the figure was gone, appearing behind the King with a wicked knife ready to strike. Eamon twisted around, throwing a swift backhand into the escort. The strike did not sound like flesh against flesh, but a knee-jerking crunch that obliterated Zakari's features.

Caitlin watched in horror as Zakari was flung against a far wall, hitting with another terrible crack, making the wall groan against the pressure. The escort's body was mangled, ground unrecognizably into the wall like a put-out cigarette. She saw the mass of blood, bone, and cloth twitch, then Zakari went still.

Eamon brushed off his hands with a clap, grinning at her expression. "Really, I'd think he'd give a little more effort to the assassination of a King. But it is immaterial now, I suppose." His grin widened. "Now, where were we?"

Caitlin was shaking all over, stunned by the sudden dispatch of Zakari. She took a breath, unable to settle her nerves in the slightest. The child, she could feel, did a flip inside of her, his darkness leaking into her limbs.

And suddenly, she remembered the knife in her coat.

Her hand twitched as if to go for it, then she thought better of it. Eamon was too far away, too fast. She'd have to catch him by surprise, if that were even possible. With the knowledge that she had the one thing that could kill him, she almost relaxed.

That didn't stop him from advancing.

"What're you thinking, luv?" He was there, so close she was surprised he didn't sense the knife. He mocked a gentle caress of her hair, then his meaty fingers dug in, grabbing her auburn locks by the fistful and causing her to stifle a pained gasp. His other hand grabbed the swell of her hips, pushing into the bone so that she did cry out. "Are you still holding out hope that my disappointing son will come and rescue you? Or-" Eamon yanked her head back, exposing her neck entirely to him. "-are you imagining all the things I can do to you before you break? I know I am."

Caitlin hissed at the pain, grabbing a thick arm for support. Her other arm lay intentionally limp at her side as she considered the moment that she'd have to use the blade. She felt his nose and the hairs of his beard brush the crevice between her neck and shoulder, remembering with stark clarity the girl he'd teased into a passion on the council floor before devouring. She choked back an irrational laugh, making the King pause. "You can't-" She winced as he levered her face to his glowering one. "You won't break me," Caitlin spat, hating him for everything he'd done to Kalen, for everything he was going to do to her.

The room dimmed around them both so she could hardly see the walls of the lobby, plunged into a darkness that belonged only to Eamon. His black gaze bore into her. Then his mouth opened in a silent snarl, displaying not one, but two sets of fangs. "You care to wager on it, foolish girl?"

Caitlin's fury fueled her, and with the added shadow stuffs from the child inside her, she swelled with energy, feeling more connected to the veil than ever. Still, pinned so by him, she wouldn't be able to reach the knife, but she could keep him talking. "What do you get out of this?"

"So naïve you are, attempting to stall me. For what? My mistake of a son won't be joining us anytime soon, and I'm afraid your escort is rather too occupied at the moment." He shook his head, his black eyes twinkling. "I will teach you the proper way to address your betters in good time. Have patience, luv."

Eamon stroked a thumb down her face, over her burning cheeks and catching her lower lip. He squeezed, so that she cried out in pain, then yanked her even closer. Caitlin could smell fresh blood on his breath, as if he'd just come from a hunt. His mouth threatened to descend on hers, and she squirmed in his grip, trying in vain to pull away.

Her other hand reached to the fold of her light jacket, but his eyes flickered to the spot with a gleam. "What do you have there?" He shoved his hand into the pocket and withdrew the obsidian knife. "You meant to kill me? With this?"

He doesn't know, she thought as her breath hitched.

He twirled it with more dexterity than she would have thought possible in his meaty fingers. Eamon's skin didn't sizzle and she wondered if Gabriel had been lying to her about obsidian's usefulness when it came to killing 'their kind'. He laughed again, reappraising her. "You really are full of surprises. I can see why you diverted my son's attention for so long, though, he is not difficult to distract."

Caitlin reached for it, but he lifted it away from her.

Eamon clicked his tongue. "You think I don't know what this is, little Helsing?"

The world stopped spinning for a moment, at least for Caitlin. "What?"

His hand closed over the petite knife. "That's right, girl. I knew your father."

"My- father?" Caitlin racked her brain, knowing she'd never heard the name Helsing in regards to Abraham. At least... never that she could recall. Had Janice, Kalen, Sara, everyone been keeping this from her? But the situation left no room to feel betrayal.

"You look confused, luv." Eamon watched her with fierce glee. "No one ever told you, then? That your father wrote in the books of history with the blood of my kind? It was quite a treat when my son delivered your brother to me. He's a spitting image of your father, you know."

"You- knew him?"

Eamon's wide cheeks widened further. "Knew him? Child, I made him what he was. Were you foolish enough to imagine a human could learn the secrets of our kind without assistance?" He threw his head back with a laugh, then caught her collar and lifted her off the ground. Their noses nearly touched when he spoke. "Your father and I had an arrangement. And unfortunately, he didn't hold up his end of the bargain." He did snarl, then, the darkness pressing in around them, swirling so that Caitlin lost her equilibrium. "But that's alright. I've got both his children now. The great hunter Abraham Van Helsing will be writhing in his grave when I'm finished with you. It will be the sweetest victory, after all he'd done to my kind. I really must thank you though, for your contribution in killing his successor. Truly, it made my efforts easy."

She watched hopelessly as he dashed the knife to the ground, where it shattered against the tile floor into a hundred shards. Her last chance at besting the King was gone. Caitlin felt her knees weaken, and was almost relieved he held her so tightly, so she did not collapse to the ground. A natural, welling sadness crushed her spirits as a tear leaked from one eye.

Caitlin only regretted the child's life. Eamon would surely follow through with his threat in the council chamber. He'd remove the existing child and seed her, himself. Then, another true monster would be born. Her last chance was taken from her and she closed her eyes.

Abraham, an old, old memory whispered, and she saw her mother, ranting about her 'absent father', all her letters returned by the post. Useless man, your father is, her mother said in her mind's eye, hugging her small frame tightly, he won't return my calls, answer my letters, nothing. Leave it to a Van Helsing. Don't ever be like him, my sweet girl. You're a Stone, just like your mother. You always will be. She could almost feel the tousle of her hair and the warmth of a mother's hug, the soft touch of...

Fingers grabbed her chin and squeezed painfully, rousing her from her stupor. "Don't flee to your mind yet, girl. We haven't even started."

Caitlin's jaw tensed as shadow energy from the child and Eamon seeped into her skin. She wasn't strong, she'd never been strong. But something changed in her.

The 'test' Gabriel had inflicted on her had never been completed. She'd been rescued from the bunker before they had a chance to give her the final dose of the mysterious drug. Now, she felt a strange click inside her, her energy breaking free and swirling with the child's creating a storm of her own within.

She grabbed Eamon's hand and tore it from her chin, surprising both of them when it actually moved at her efforts.

Eamon looked more surprised than she, releasing her to the floor as a result. "You're just a human." His shock disappeared, replacing itself with darkened resolve. Before she had a chance to use her unnatural strength on him again, he'd flipped her around and pressed her back to his wide chest, gripping her tight around the throat. "I don't know what sort of magic you're playing with, but I've broken vampires just as easily. Do not thing for one moment that-"

She felt the collision before she was deposited onto the ground. Something hard had descended onto the King and forced him to let go. Kalen? She'd fallen to her knees, hard, sending twin jolts of pain up her legs and into her hips. But she rolled to one side, catching herself against the abandoned reception desk. Caitlin looked up to see none other than Sara pinning the King to the spot in a struggling arm-lock.

"Sara!" she cried out in relief, realizing he must have been waiting for the right moment to strike on one of the floors above.

Her brother shook his head. "Kill him!" he bellowed, staring at her with furious intent, his eyes piercing black. Sara was barely managing to keep the King subdued, and she could tell by the strain of his muscles as the King bucked beneath the big man's weight.

Eamon thrashed beneath Sara, nearly freeing himself. "Traitorous maggot!"

Caitlin took a breath to steady herself and looked to the broken knife, nearly weeping with grief that her only opportunity had been destroyed. But then she saw a fragment of the blade's edge, just long enough to slide through a pair of ribs, even ones as big as Eamon's.

She grabbed hold of it, the sharp end biting into her palm as she turned to Eamon and Sara. Eamon, whose focus had been on her brother, turned to her. His face was contorted with rage as he bared his teeth in her direction. "You will not get the better of me, you little breeder cunt."

The energy that arose inside of her lashed out on its own, so that she didn't know if it were her own actions anymore, the veil's influence... or the child's. The fragment pushed past the King's thick shirt and between two ribs nearest his heart, slicing through his toughened flesh and the flesh of her palm. She had to draw back immediately, as his gnashing teeth went for her throat. Caitlin didn't know where her own speed had come from as she caught her bleeding hand, cupping it to her chest.

She could see Sara's movements as if the whole world had slowed. He yanked the King backwards and threw him bodily to the ground, then palmed Eamon's chest where the fragment stuck out, and the swirling energy around them thickened momentarily.

Caitlin felt the bite of the knife and worried over Sara. If he killed himself to take the King down, she would never forgive him. Not in a million years.

But Sara left the King to writhe on the floor, stepping to Caitlin's side. He did not appear to be bleeding and, when she glanced down at his palm, there was nothing. She didn't have time to be relieved though, watching King Eamon squirm and gasp on the floor.

The swirling, thickening shadows sank into the floor, as if Eamon's darkness had never been. The lobby brightened, and Caitlin realized it was nearing dawn outside. Eamon still writhed and bucked, clutching at his chest, but something changed. Rather than a broken string of curses, black foam began to burble from his mouth. His eyes were wide in what looked like agony and fear.

She could tell by his energies that he'd caused immense suffering. So much darkness had he collected that whatever he was feeling was only a drop in an ocean. He deserved this. A pity that it won't last, she thought, smiling grimly to herself.

Eamon's skin began to steam and sizzle from the inside-out. Sara kept himself between her and the King, but she doubted it was necessary any longer as they watched his body stiffen and choke, his face going unnaturally pallid. His wide cheeks sunk in, his flesh, thick and weathered, emaciated rapidly under their watchful eyes.

Caitlin found herself in a strange sort of euphoria. She did not regret having struck the final blow, as opposed to her participation in Gabriel's death. That man was only human.

Tonight, she'd killed a monster.

The King's body hissed and cracked like an old log, stiffening. Then, she realized, it was over. Over, she mused internally, entirely over. She looked down at her bloodied hands, which were now responsible for taking two lives. Then she looked up to Sara, who appraised her with a worried expression, glancing down at the cut on her hand.

Her forehead crumpled in confusion. "He's... gone forever?"

Sara nodded slowly.

"Good," she said with a breath of relief, letting her jelly legs collapse beneath her. She landed with a thud on the tile floor, the strange reserves of energy steaming from her skin and dissipating into the air around her. With it gone, her body and mind were drained, and she could hardly keep her eyes open.

She saw Sara reach for her with a strip of his shirt in-hand. He hunkered down and put out his own. "Let me see."

Caitlin freely offered it, in no condition to argue. He slipped the black cotton around three times and secured it with a knot on her palm, returning the hand to her. She glanced up at her brother, seeing a weight lifted off his shoulders. She opened her mouth to speak when the doors slammed open behind them, and a familiar group of vampires filed in.

First, she saw Kalen enter, heading a team of his soldiers. Relief washed over her as took in the situation, his eyes settling on her. As if in a strange dream, she saw Amandine flood in from the back with a troupe of bedraggled but wild women in tow. Vampires, by the look of them, all with fiery looks and long, bared teeth.

"Caitlin," Kalen called, and he was already by her side, hoisting her into his arms. He looked around in disbelief, seeing the corpse of his father, a blackened, burnt husk marring the white tile floor. "What happened?"

She did not have the energy to answer, content to spend the rest of the century in his arms. Caitlin rested her head on his shoulder as Sara spoke on her behalf. "Caitlin killed the King."

Caitlin could feel his surprise as he froze at the news, then he looked down at her. "You used the obsidian blade on my father?"

She laughed weakly, hardly able to move after exerting so much of her energy. "If I say yes, does that make me the King?"

His chuckle was full and gentle. "No, but it does make you rather queenly." He nuzzled into her shoulder, but she was not afraid of his teeth. Or anything, for that matter. Relief washed over her as she sighed with a smile, closing her eyes.

"Mother," she heard him say. "Glad you could make it. Sorry it was an uneventful raid."

"No need to apologize," Amandine's smooth voice answered, the same gentle tone as always. "I believe we're all just glad it's over. How is she?"

Caitlin felt a cool touch on her cheek.

"She'll be okay once we get her home." She felt Kalen turn his head. "And Zakari. Get up, or we're going to have to celebrate without you."

She heard a familiar groan from a distant corner, and several women chittering to one another behind them. A few cracks later and she heard Zakari's voice, too. "Sorry, sir. Your father throws a wicked backhand."

"Believe me, I know," Kalen responded. "Where are the others?"

Sara's voice was clear, but low. "Downstairs."

"Wake them up and get them ready. We're going home."