The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

Dimly, he noted that about two of his men were ushering the woman away-he didn’t know where exactly-but she was screaming, fighting against them, probably thinking that they wanted to harm her-or maybe she knew that they didn’t want to harm her but she was too hysterical to let them help her. One of the guards had the little girl in his arms and the other, held the woman, gently pulling her along.

When her hysterics showed no signs of reducing, the guards shared a look then traced them away.

If he had to guess, they were taking her to the physician.

“Should we bring some cars out?” Edgar asked when he had returned and Bran shook his head.

“Cars would bring attention to us and it would also take longer for us to get there. Longer than tracing, that is.”

Edgar gave a sharp nod.

Turning to face the men, Bran yelled, “Gather around. We will all trace to the location.” They did quickly, linking their hands together as it wasn’t the first time they were doing something like this.

Then Bran traced them to the bar… and right into the bosom of choas.

It was pathetic. The fight, that was.

If it could even be called that.

Vampires kept running towards a woman from all directions, throwing weapons when they couldn’t reach her fast enough, but every single thing was deflected by the woman, while the vampires that tried to fight her, all ended on the ground, dead. Some groaning in pain, blood pouring from their injuries and bones protruding from their flesh at odd angles.

Bile rose up Bran’s throat when he saw both children amongst the dead, their small forms injured, and expressions frozen in pain forever.

How could someone be so evil as to do this to children?

The woman wading the vampires off was the sorceress Bran had seen with Ariti that day-the one who had hexed Bran with the mortality spell-and anger tightened his chest anew at the sight of her.

Next to her, merely enjoying the show, was Ariti, a sneer on his face as he watched everything play out, at the same time his eyes scanned the perimeter. Searching for what?

It was when, as he was looking, his head turned and fixed on Bran and his eyes lit up, that Bran realized he was the one that the sorcerer had been waiting for.

“Ah!” He exclaimed, drawing closer to the vampires and away from the sorceress. He wasn’t scared that the vampires would harm him because he believed the sorceresss would fight them away. “The king finally joins us. I’ve been expecting you, I must say. But how do I show my excitement that you’ve finally joined us?” He tilted his head, lips drawing up in a chilling smile. “Do I bow?”

“Tell your dog to stop attacking.”

That drew the sorceress’ attention, as Bran had hoped. She paused her attack and her head turned swiftly in Bran’s direction, a look of absolute shock on her face. “Did you just call me a dog?”

In the short time it took for her to realise that she’d stopped fighting the vampires away, one of them shoved a sword into her back from behind her and she shrieked in pain. Her back arched and the sword dislodged with a burst of light as she whirled around, grabbing the vampire with a hand around his neck and snapping.

The man dropped dead.

Bran’s fangs bared in anger at seeing another one of his people killed so effortlessly and yelled, “Ask her to stand down now or you will not get what you want.”

“Foolish vampire!” The sorceress screamed, drifting closer, her feet not touching the ground. “Do you know who I am? One does not tell me what to do.”

“I just fucking did!”

She shrieked again and ran into Bran. He’d seen the move coming so before she could reach him, he moved out of the way. She was so hellbent on getting to him and him alone that she didn’t take note of the other men closing around her and she only saw them when it was too late and they were already launching strikes.

The fight continued for several minutes more. Bran got some hits at her but she too, got some hits at him. The only upper hand she had was her powers. They enabled her launch a strike without coming close.

Several of Bran’s men had fallen but the remaining still fought. When Bran traced to the side of the sorceress and drove his sword deep into her side, she groaned and stumbled. Bran quickly drew back his sword and plunged again at another spot, enjoying her screams of pain far more than he should have.

“This is payback for that mortality hex,” he sneered as he kicked her, forcing himself not to allow guilt creep in that he was hurting a woman. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t just a woman-she was an evil one, and she deserved it.

Glaring up at him with watering eyes, she stretched her hand out and Bran felt something connecting with his chest that sent him flying backwards.

Ariti, fed up with everything, screamed, “Enough!”

The men that had been fighting them before Bran and his people showed up, had all retreated, dragging their injured people away.

“This fight is unnecessary.” Ariti continued, the smile on his face dying as a cruel look took root. “Give me my daughter and I will return your sister. Peace will reign between us and all will be right with the worlds.”

Bran’s chest flew up and down with the force of his breaths, his hand itching to throw a dagger at Ariti as he rose to his feet, stifling a groan at the bite of pain he felt in his back . “You started the war when you murdered the king and queen,” Bran grated, red clouding his vision that they were having this discussion in front of everyone to see and hear. “You started the war when you abducted my sister-”

“And now, I want to end it.” Ariti cut him off, spreading his arms out wide. “I see now how I have wronged you,”-he faced the people listening-“I apologize sincerely for the death of your beloved king and queen. Never will I harm anyone from the vampire realm again if he gives me back my daughter.” Ariti’s voice grew louder and it was clear that he was addressing the crowd. “There will be peace and I will have no reason to step into this realm ever again if and only if he gives me back my daughter. If he doesn’t, however, you can guarantee that I, and my companion,”-he pointed to the sorceress-“will keep visiting. A lot.”

Bran was shaking with anger, shame scalding him as he took in the looks of betrayal on his people’s faces.

But what could he say?

What could he do?

He didn’t want to let Maria go, but he also couldn’t let his people continue to suffer.

Bran could think of nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t open his mouth and ask Ariti to leave-which would mean that he was telling him to leave with all hopes of getting his sister back-and he also couldn’t give Maria to him because that would mean subjecting her to more suffering by his hands-and living without his mate.

His silence rang loud and clear, clearer than the hushed whispers of his people as they watched him.

“Well,” Ariti spoke again. “There you have it. Your king has just guaranteed my return and by extension, guaranteed more deaths in this kingdom.” He waved the sorceress over and she got up reluctantly, glaring at Bran, her look telling him that the fight wasn’t over. “Come, we have somewhere to be. And of course by somewhere, I mean torturing the Princess.” He grinned. “Oh, how I love her screams.”

A roar tore from Bran’s chest as he let his sword clatter to the ground, shoving both hands into the fronts of his pockets in a flash, producing the daggers, and sending them sinking into Ariti’s chest.

Ariti groaned and yelled curses at Bran, even going as far as lunging at him, but they were already leaving and the portal closed before he could make it through.

Bran’s shoulder hunched in shame as his men carried the dead bodies and the injured, tracing them out of the area.

The dead bodies were now out of Bran’s sights but their blood remained, causing Bran to face the consequences of his own actions.