Hi,
So some of you believe Anna could stand a chance against Vladislav, while others disagreed. So if Anna could or cannot win over Vladislav at this point in time, why is that? What ingredient is/was missing? What do you think does Anna need against this opponent? Is it a battle of minds and/or wills? Oh, and what is Alexander up to??
Anyway, enjoy the chapter and as always, thank you all for reading :-)
Lara
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Chapter 61
Vladislav was standing in front of me. Back in the real world. Cold sweat pearled on my forehead like icy raindrops and I was breathing hard. Gone was the vision of my inner fortress. And I knew why. I was no longer one step away from the abyss, fighting for my mind and my life. Without my knowing I had stared into it too hard, and the abyss had looked back.
Vladislav had gotten into my head.
I shuddered and stared at him with wide eyes, gulping in air. Where had he been? What had he seen in my mind? Was I his servant now?
The great three witches help me. Anything but that.
I knew that Helèna Bathoryn was still there, somewhere beside or behind Vladislav, but my being couldn't seem to focus on anything else. My eyes unfocused and my vision blurred whenever I tried to look away from his eyes. I licked my lips, trying to concentrate on a spot beside him and failing.
Vladislav held up his hand, in his palm the ring I'd gotten from Alexander in the club. I stilled. It took a lot to get this ring back from the head vampire. The magical artifact was one of my best trump cards. One I'd counted on. I narrowed my eyes. How had Vladislav gotten-
"I am over one-thousand years old. You cannot hide from me," Vladislav said.
His eyes were two pools of blackness that spoke of bottomless abysses, approaching apocalypses and a never-ending reign of darkness. The smell of burned skin drifted into my nose, a small reminder of what I'd seen when I tried to get into Vladislav's head on my own.
If he had the ring, it could only mean one thing. Vladislav had been long enough in my mind to gather that I had the magical artifact and where I hid it. What else did he see?
"Did you think I would not know? This trinket will not help you. Neither will it help Adorján", Vladislav said.
Time moved forward, slipped through my fingers. Vladislav had lifted his head and was glancing into the distance, caught up in a statuesque pose that suggested he could do it forever.
I licked my lips. Vladislav had moved and I'd missed it again. The realization hovered over my head, sinking slowly. If I didn't do something, I was going to lose my mind. I couldn't lose this. Not to Vladislav. Not to anyone.
Vladislav's eyes turned back to me. "You will remain here and await my orders," he said softly. The weight of a century-heavy gaze slammed back into me, locking my limbs into place. The power of the grave washed over me like a cold, suffocating blanket. I couldn't move, could barely think.
The magical planes seemed to be obscured by the dark powers of the grave. It felt like someone had cut off my magic and my feel of the elements, rendering me breathless and blind. My breathing quickened, rising in a steady crescendo.
My magic. Where were the elements?
I swallowed, tried to slow my breathing. They were still there. Had to be. I just couldn't feel them at this point in time. I couldn't â no, I wouldn't lose my head to Vladislav.
I closed my eyes. Vladislav entered my mind, but I knew when and where it happened. It was in the fortress of my mind. If I could somehow rebuild the walls in there, I might be able to-
"You think of fighting me?"
I opened my eyes.
Vladislav had moved closer. The smell of burned flesh stung my nose, in time with a squeezing sensation around my neck.
"You are mine to command," he said. "You will not move, unless I tell you to." The words pounded in my head, reverberating off my skull.
I shook my head, tried to shake it off by motion alone. I had to move, anything to get away from him and his suffocating presence. The words echoed in my head, becoming louder the more I tried to move and resist.
I stilled and stayed motionless. Slowly, the sounds abated and I could breathe again.
Vladislav turned to Helèna Bathoryn and nodded. And there it was: a miniscule change in his facial expression â the first one I'd seen.
"Ah, Adorján, how good of you to come," Vladislav said, still looking at Helèna.
My eyes widened.
No. It couldn't be. Alexander wouldn't â
My eyes searched for him, trying to part nightly shadows â until they finally found him, there, standing on the other side of the street.
He was dressed in black slacks and a rolled up, black dress shirt with the three top buttons open. Moonlight illuminated his white skin and made him look like an ethereal vision of a god emerging from the throes of war.
For a fleeting moment our eyes met. Deep blue. Familiar, yet without motion. If there was any message, anything Alexander might have communicated, it was lost somewhere in the street between us. His eyes moved away from me and back to Vladislav, his face bland and emotionless. Unreadable.
There was motion behind him. Alexander hadn't come alone. The shadows parted like a veil, revealing Zack, George and a number of vamps I had come to know as being part of Alexander's trusted circle.
"To what do we owe the honor of your presence, Vladislav?" Alexander said. His voice was low, his manner calm to the point of total disinterest.
Vladislav remained still, his arms lose at his sides. The posture looked unnatural, as if he truly was an inanimate statue come to life.
"I didn't believe you would be this foolish," he said. "You made a mistake when you killed Titus."
Alexander stared at his maker. "I do not know what you are talking about, Vladislav. Why are you here?"
"To put a stray dog in its place. You killed one of my own. Even more than that, your insolence and your disregard for protocol and manners are offending. Disobedience is not something I tolerate well, Adorján. The past should have taught you that."
Time split, shifted. Moved. Vladislav was standing behind my back.
Shit. I hadn't even felt him move. The cold of the grave beat on my skin like a set of icy knuckles knocking against a wooden door.
Vladislav's power expanded, crawling all over the place. He swept away my hair, baring one side of my neck. I tasted bile in my mouth. A rush of goose bumps marched down my spine, but I couldn't move.
"I have tasted her blood," Vladislav said. The cold of the grave wrapped itself around my neck like an invisible garotte. "It seems you had a lucky find, Adorján."
Alexander's face was still as a winter grave, his blue eyes cold and untouched.
"You said you were here to punish me for killing one of your own. You came here to New York without a formal note or invitation. You stand here, accusing me of murder, spreading falsehoods in my city. And yet you fail to produce the name of who you say I killed. It is apparent that this is merely a pretext and a means to achieve your own agenda."
Vladislav stilled behind me. The smell of burnt flesh entered my nose, suffocating, burning my skin.
"You killed Titus and it could be argued that you killed Ramondo as well," Vladislav said. "Yet here you stand and dare to accuse me, using my own speech against me. I have lost a faithful protégé. I will leave New York only with an adequate compensation."
"As far as I know, both of them were killed shortly after the festivities", Alexander said. "You are well aware of the fact that I had to leave Red Night's Eve in a rush. I returned to New York the same night I left the festivities, which makes your argument and your accusation obsolete. Drop your pretense and reveal your true intentions and why you are here."
Heléna Bathoryn cocked her head beside me. The motion was odd, considering the stony-faced spiel of emotionlessness she'd displayed ever since she appeared â if you counted out the murderous looks she'd thrown my way. Her eyes were searching the street, focusing on Alexander and his party. It was weird, almost as if she was taking a closer look at him and his vampires' auras â something she would have done the moment they appeared.
Finally her eyes settled on Alexander and stayed there.
Unless, this isn't about auras but something else.
I frowned. The motion felt strangely alien, like trying to lift and move weight with your eyebrows alone. Ever since Vladislav commanded me to stay still, I had done only that. It hadn't even occurred to me once to move. The stillness felt right. Safe.
But it wasn't. Something about the thought seemed perversely wrong. I'd never felt completely safe, except ... that night I spent with Alexander.
I blinked. Alexander.
I had to get myself away and out of Vladislav's clutches.
I probed my magic, tried to feel for the auratic environment around me. Nothing.
I tried again, concentrating on that part of me that governed magic.
The smell of burned flesh entered my nose. I was back in Vladislav's wasteland of corpses, dying humans and crosses, kneeling on burned ground. Someone was squeezing my throat, pulling me forward and down down down! I tried to scream, but couldn't.
I let go of the magic, screaming a soundless cry that wouldn't travel past the threshold of my lips. Slowly the vision faded. I was back in the street, motionless except for my harsh breathing.
Helèna Bathoryn was still staring at Alexander, eyes squeezed to narrow slits. She stiffened, then took a step back.
"Alexander is carrying at least one magical weapon," she said, turning to Vladislav. "I do not know what it is."
My breathing hiccupped and died down.
Alexander is carrying at least one magical weapon.
And I knew exactly which one. Alexander was probably carrying the one magical artifact he kept after handing over the ring: That meant he had brought the golden file. The artifact was created by a very powerful fire witch, its purpose to ignite itself once its power was released. Sonya Bernards said it was powerful enough to kill someone as old as Alexander. It was the ultimate vamp killer; deadly because the fire was magical and instant. Only, Alexander might die himself, if he tried to use it to kill Vladislav.