“The last time was five thousand years ago,” Clayne replied. “I lost my wife then. Demetrius was only five years old at the time.”
Maybe the absence of a mother might’ve had something to do with the rot that had clearly warped Demetrius’s brain. Most psychopaths had some kind of motherly issue at the root of their festering darkness. I considered this informational tidbit a piece of a broader puzzle.
“The cycle is approximately every ten thousand years,” Petra said. “We’re not due for another outbreak just yet.”
“Approximately five thousand years left, then,” Amal concluded.
To my left, Kalon sat still, following the conversation. A muscle ticked nervously in his jaw, his gaze fixed on his mother. There was something here, something unspoken and filled with anger. Was Petra lying, perhaps? I would warn Amal later tonight, for sure, just so she’d be careful when dealing with Petra.
“Your aid will be much appreciated,” Danika cut in. “But I think we must make the terms of this collaboration clear from the very beginning.”
Derek was once again caught off guard. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve told us about your GASP federation and how you’ve made friends all over the place, earlier today, if you remember,” Danika replied. She was right. Derek and Sofia had mentioned GASP and our endeavors during blood drinks with Acheron and her after the tournament, after having decided to tell them more about us. “Upgrading worlds, changing governments, defending the defenseless and so on. It’s very noble what you do, but the Lord Supreme and I have already discussed this, and we want you to keep this GASP malarkey all to yourselves.”
“I still don’t follow,” Derek said, his brow furrowed.
Acheron put on a flat smile, leaning over the table. “We’ll give you the blood. You’ll help us with a cure for the Black Fever. That is where our partnership ends. You will not try to change our world. You will not bring others from your planets to ours. We are not interested in diplomatic ties and intergalactic brotherhoods. We want Visio and its empire to be left alone.”
Derek and Sofia looked at each other for a few seconds, then searched our faces for a reaction. I gave them a soft nod, as did my brother.
“GASP doesn’t wish to interfere in any way, but we’ve proven ourselves more than effective against threats that nearly wiped out entire galaxies,” Derek said.
“That’s all good and everything, but it’s still a no from us,” Acheron insisted, his tone sharp. “We’ve been here for too long on our own to have anyone come in and try to police us in any way. We wish to preserve our culture and our laws. It’s why we put the haze around our planets.”
“We wouldn’t even dream of destabilizing your empire, we just—” Sofia tried to explain, but Danika cut her off.
“You can’t have it both ways here, Sofia. We know that you and your people are not exactly thrilled with the arrangements that we’ve made with the Rimians and the Naloreans, after we conquered them. We know that you would try to change that, the first chance you get, because you’re all nice and self-righteous. We like you, sure, but we don’t want you butting in. No one does.”
This was awkward, but I could see where they were coming from. Things had been much worse on Neraka before our intervention—who was to say that one or more of GASP’s senior officers couldn’t convince the others that we should step in and tell the Aeternae to change their laws and free the Rimians and the Naloreans? Danika was right. We had made it our mission to protect other supernatural species. To defend those who could not defend themselves.
But we also needed the protein in their blood, so we could all walk in the sun again. We couldn’t have both, and our people had had enough wars and conflicts and disasters to last them a lifetime. For once, we were better off focusing on the protein, instead of trying to forcibly reshape an entire world that seemed to function quite well on its own, as flawed as it was in its laws and traditions.
“I understand,” Derek said. “You have my promise. No other GASP members will ever set foot on Visio, or Nalore, or Rimia, without your direct permission. In return, we will continue with our exchange. Your blood and our support in finding a cure for your Black Fever, hopefully before it comes back.”
“And you have my word, Derek Novak,” Acheron replied. “No one will harm you or stand in your way while you pursue your mission to give day-walking to all the vampires. You are welcome here, and it is still a pleasure to host you and your team.”
People nodded and murmured their agreement around the table, while Kalon leaned closer so only I could hear him. “See? Isn’t everything better when we all get along?”
I shot him a cold stare. “You should try that with Demetrius before you end up dead tonight.”
He grinned, genuinely amused. “You’re worried about me?”
“It would be a shame for the high priestess to lose a son like this.”
“Right. You’d feel sorry for my mother,” Kalon replied dryly.
“I’d feel sorry for you, too,” I said. “There’s nothing more tragic than dying.”
“There is. An eternity without love or honor,” Kalon said immediately. “Compared to that, dying is a relief.”
He sounded as though he spoke from his own experience. Maybe his arrogance and sense of superiority were merely a thin surface beneath which he’d been hiding for too long. Maybe he welcomed the thrill of dying tonight. I didn’t like the thought.
The more I was around him, the more questions I had. The more I wanted to understand him, to breach the outer layer and reach the core of Kalon Visentis. Hopefully, I’d get my chance before tonight.
Esme
Close to midnight, Kalon invited us to witness the duel. His mother refused. “I will not watch my son be killed,” she said.
“What if I win?” he asked.
“I refuse to even consider the risk of you losing. I can’t,” Petra insisted. “You come see me when it’s done, so I know you’re alive. Otherwise, I shall brace myself for the worst.”
She walked out of the palace square, where a carriage awaited to take her home. Danika and Acheron had retreated to their chambers, and the rest of the dinner guests had also scattered. Derek and Sofia, Tristan, Amal, Nethissis, Corbin, Valaine, and I were the only ones left willing to accompany Kalon to the duel. Even Demetrius’s father had excused himself, likely mentally preparing himself for the terrible news that might follow.
He knew Kalon well enough to understand that his son’s odds had been drastically reduced the moment the duel had been agreed upon. I couldn’t even imagine how gut-wrenching it all had to be, especially since Lord Mefithi had been nothing but kind and apologetic.
A group of ten gold guards escorted us all to the Black Square, which was about half a mile away from the palace. The area had been cleared, as duels normally demanded a certain amount of privacy. The square itself was beautiful, with cobblestone and manicured hedges and neatly trimmed flowering trees. Streetlamps cast their warm light over the narrow street that framed Black Square, and we could only hear a few distant voices nearby.
Most of the buildings in the area were administrative edifices, already closed off and shuttered, but I knew the people were curious, trying to get as close as possible to at least catch a few glimpses of the duel.
Corbin offered himself as the referee. “Demetrius would not dare refuse,” he said.
“Thank you,” Kalon replied as we entered the enclosed green space, where Demetrius was already waiting, joined by two oversized Aeternae friends.
“Took your sweet time.” Demetrius chuckled, though his anxiety was beyond obvious. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, seeping into the ruffled collar of his shirt.
“Thought I’d give you the chance to back out,” Kalon replied. “Clearly, your common sense died along with Krassus today.”
