Ruvan blinks, shock passing across his face quickly before he releases the tension with a low chuckle. “The thought crossed my mind, too.”
“Good to know we had so much in common from the start.”
“Ah, yes, both contemplating murder, a smart match made right there.” Ruvan holds out his elbow. “If you’re still willing to see, I’d like to show you my people.”
I take his elbow and enter a cavern colder than death.
Everything is awash in a faint red glow. But the light is so faint that it cannot reach the cavernous ceiling overhead, nor the walls on either side. The space is so vast it seems as if it goes on for infinity. I blink, forcing my eyes to adjust, leveraging the magic Ruvan gave me to see. But even I can’t see to the farthest reaches.
The glow is emitted by jagged points of what look like rubies the size of people. I nearly trip down the short stairs to the floor of the room as I realize—therearepeople. Hundreds of them.
I cross over to one of the vampir, frozen in time. It’s a man with his arms folded over his chest. He’s suspended just off the ground, the crystal built up slightly underneath his heels and toes. Small orchids bud up around the base of the crystal, also glowing, and emitting a faint, floral aroma. He seems peaceful, as if he’s sleeping. I tilt my head this way and that, getting a better look through the jagged edges and smooth planes of the chrysalis.
Ruvan allows me my inspection and then continues to lead me through the rows of sleeping people of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I’ve never imagined a place of so many people. But it would take a mighty population to fill the streets above. “This is…everyone?”
“This is only a third of what we were. And these are just the people we could save. The people who could be rounded up fast enough and who could manage the blood rites to slumber through the long night.” He comes to a stop before a book positioned on a pedestal at the center of the room. People are missing in rungs out from the tome—jagged crystals on the floor, no longer glowing and as dark as old blood, are the only remnants of hundreds.
“Did the magic fail at one point?” I ask.
“No, these are the ones who were awoken. The lords and ladies and their covenants who came before us.” Ruvan sighs. “About every eighty to a hundred years, assuming everything goes right, the guardians and leaders are turned over. There’s a new vampir lord or lady awoken and seven are woken with him or her as their assistants and sworn protectors. At the end of their life, however quickly it comes, if the curse has still not been broken, they awaken the next round.” He rests a palm on the book. “The original founders planned five thousand years of lords and ladies. Who would’ve thought that might not be enough?”
Every jagged crystal base, dull without the magic of the vampire within to sustain it, represents a person. Someone with a dream. Someone who had a life that they left behind as they closed their eyes for the long night.
“It must be jarring,” I whisper, kneeling to run my fingers over the crystal points. “To go to sleep and wake up thousands of years later.”
“It’s certainly not easy. It can take us months to acclimate… Callos wandered the academy for days on end when we first were restored and Lavenzia sat in the shell of her favorite bakery, silent,” Ruvan says, guarded. His gaze is distant and haunted. “The guardians are little more than ghosts. And from the moment we’re awoken, we know our chances of ever seeing our loved ones again are next to none.”
He turns away from the pedestal and book, starting down the rows. I follow silently. I can imagine the eyes of the vampir staring at me as I pass from behind their lids. Accusatory.
Did the early hunters really do this? Even if they did…and even if Ruvan is right and King Solos treated a group of early humans as little more than animals to be experimented on and killed for our blood…those were the actions of one man. How much longer must these people wait until their dues have been paid? How much suffering should be inflicted upon them until it is enough?
Who were the real monsters thousands of years ago? Who are they now? I was once so sure of that answer and now I have no idea.
“Here,” Ruvan says softly, stopping before a broken husk of dark ruby. I stand next to him. Something compels me to wrap my arm around his. Our sides are flush. I examine his face in profile as I wait for him to be ready to say whatever he clearly has locked away. “This was where I was.”
“How long ago were you awoken?” I stare at the empty shell. The broken stone, dull without his magic to fuel it. This was mentioned at some point, I think, but it feels like years ago that I first arrived. I wasn’t the same woman then as I am now and heard things—or didn’t hear them—differently. My world was still simple.
“Only about a year ago. The last lord held on a long time to wake us just before the Blood Moon so we would be at our peak strength. Enough time to acclimate, read the records of the previous covenants, hone our skills, and shake off the dust; but not long enough that we’d languish or, worse, succumb to the curse.”
I see Ruvan in yet another new way. He was born in a different time. He, all of them, grew up in a Tempost that was in the midst of its fall. They encased themselves in ruby as their world was crumbling, not knowing when,or if, they would ever wake up…or what they would wake up to.
“The first thing I did when I awoke…was kill the last lord.” Ruvan’s arm trembles slightly. He stares at nothing, no doubt looking straight back to that night a year ago. “He was succumbing to the curse but holding on because the rest of his vassals had already fallen. He had to be the one to wake us. He pushed himself to the brink to do it. And I had to be the one to kill him.” Ruvan covers his face with his hand, looking away. “Yet every night, I still think of him. His dark eyes. Covered in his blood. And I—I—”
“It’s all right.” I tighten my grip and shift my weight from foot to foot. Without thought or hesitation, I rest my fingertips on his chin and guide his face back to mine. His hand falls away and he looks at me with those eyes of his—haunted and bright. “You did what you had to.”
“I know. But it… I was the one to carve out his chest and yet mine is the one with the hole in it.”
My hand drops to rest on the center of his breast. “There’s no hole here,” I reassure him. “Just the strong heartbeat of a good man.”
His hand wraps around mine, holding me to him. Without looking around for where Ventos might be, Ruvan tilts his head down and presses his forehead against mine. His eyes dip closed and mine do as well. For a moment, we breathe together. We lean on each other and my thoughts melt away.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
“For not being the hunter I thought you were.” I can hear the smile on his lips without opening my eyes. “For giving me—all of us—a chance.”
I laugh softly. “Even the strongest steel can bend…with enough patience, time, and force.”
