▪︎ Chapter 120 ▪︎ “Since it was my mistake,”

Gwendolyn came down through the canopy quickly enough to send leaves spinning in her wake, white hair streaming behind her as her wings folded at the last possible moment. 

She landed on the enormous branch beside Lavinia, took one look at her, and immediately dove forward.

Lavinia barely had time to shift before Gwendolyn wrapped both arms around her waist and buried her face against Lavinia's stomach.

"I thought I'd find something interesting," Gwendolyn complained, her words slightly muffled against Lavinia's dress. "Instead, I flew around for an hour and found absolutely nothing."

Lavinia looked down at the mass of white hair pressed against her and smiled faintly. 

Whatever else had changed in five years, apparently Gwendolyn had not lost the ability to attach herself to another vampire at the slightest opportunity. 

Lavinia lifted one hand and gently stroked the top of her head, letting her fingers disappear into the silky strands.

"What were you looking for?"

Gwendolyn immediately perked up. She tipped her head backward without actually releasing Lavinia, empty red eyes brightening. "A Dryad."

"A Dryad?"

"There's one who always hangs around nearby. Well, not always nearby, but nearby enough." Gwendolyn frowned thoughtfully. 

"Recently she's been wandering off more often. I thought I'd find her before she went too far."

Valerie leaned forward from where she sat farther along the branch. Her orange hair spilled over one shoulder as she gave Gwendolyn a deeply concerned look.

"You do know Dryads aren't actually trees rooted to one spot, right?"

Gwendolyn's expression flattened.

Her leg snapped outward.

Her heel struck Valerie squarely in the chest, knocking the orange-haired vampire clean off the branch.

Valerie's laughter followed her through forty feet of foliage before she struck the forest floor below with a heavy thump.

Lavinia stared downward.

Gwendolyn calmly settled her cheek back against Lavinia's stomach.

"She deserved that."

"You could have just told her to shut up."

"Less satisfying."

Another laugh drifted upward from below. 

Valerie climbed out of the shallow vegetation she'd flattened, brushing leaves from her black dress without any particular urgency.

Gwendolyn ignored her entirely, only for her pointed ears to twitch a moment later.

Then her nose wrinkled.

She sniffed once.

Twice.

Gwendolyn pulled her face away from Lavinia and sniffed the air around her. "Why do you smell like a Witch?"

"A rather powerful Witch came to visit."

Gwendolyn's mouth immediately twisted into a pout. "Witches are annoying."

"You know several," Valerie called from below.

"That doesn't make them less annoying! Their rituals are annoying. Their magic is annoying. Their wards are annoying. Everything they do has some strange little rule attached to it." Gwendolyn waved one hand irritably. 

"Can't touch this, can't step there, don't say that name inside this circle, don't drink something if it's blue unless it's supposed to be blue, and if you kill one in her own house you might discover she decided dying was optional three weeks ago."

Lavinia blinked.

Gwendolyn looked up at her. "They're annoying."

A blur shot upward beside them.

Valerie cleared the forty-foot distance in a single jump and landed lightly on the branch, barely making it sway despite the force that must have gone into the leap. 

"The Witch of Thorns isn't the worst of them. Even with her little tendencies, she doesn't really cause us much trouble."

"Her little tendencies?" Lavinia repeated.

Valerie grinned. "You met her."

That was answer enough.

Lavinia glanced between Valerie and Gwendolyn. 

There were so many things she could ask now that she'd discovered the peculiar restriction surrounding her missing five years. 

Or rather, years that were not missing at all. She hadn't forgotten them. She had never lived them.

She could ask questions.

She simply couldn't tell anyone why she needed the answers.

"What exactly is a Vampire Princess?"

Valerie's smile faded into mild surprise.

Lavinia continued before either could question her. "Or a Royal, for that matter. I don't feel any different."

Gwendolyn blinked rapidly at her, seemingly puzzled by the question, but unlike when Lavinia had tried to explain that she couldn't remember the past five years, she didn't freeze.

"A Royal is..." Gwendolyn hummed, searching for the words. "They're a member of a supernatural species who intrinsically draws others of their species toward them."

Lavinia frowned slightly.

Gwendolyn stared at her for another moment before her expression suddenly brightened. "Wait! Remember Cordelia? And Ophelia? Adeliza and Sybil too?"

Of course Lavinia remembered them. Cordelia had crossed an absurd distance to reach Oakridge. 

Ophelia and Diana had traveled toward them as well. Adeliza and Sybil had been doing the same the last time Lavinia had known anything about them.

Gwendolyn gestured animatedly. "There were other vampires closer to them. Lots of them, especially after the Second Divergence made everything farther apart. But they still came to you. They didn't even really know why. They just wanted to."

She smiled and promptly returned her face to Lavinia's stomach, nuzzling against her before inhaling deeply.

"Berries, pine and blood," Gwendolyn murmured happily. "Lots of blood."

"Gwen."

"Mhm?"

"Continue."

"Oh." Gwendolyn giggled. "Royals are focal points, I guess. Loyalty isn't demanded. It's offered. Other species aren't always as good about it as us, though. Witches sometimes try to backstab their Queens. Royal Werewolves get usurpers trying to dethrone them sometimes. Vampires are so much better."

Valerie reached over, planted both hands on Gwendolyn's face, and began peeling her away from Lavinia.

"You've cuddled enough."

"No."

"Yes."

"I just got here!"

"You've been attached to her for five minutes."

"That's nothing!"

Gwendolyn tightened both arms around Lavinia's waist while Valerie pulled at her cheeks.

"The other Princesses even put 'spies' around you," Valerie said, making exaggerated quotation marks with one hand before resuming her attempt to remove Gwendolyn. 

"They're not subtle. And they wouldn't really fight us if we caught them. It's more like keeping one of their vampires nearby so they can tell their Princess what's happening."

A face immediately surfaced in Lavinia's thoughts.

The unfamiliar vampire she'd passed in the castle. Lavinia hadn't known her, yet the sight of her had provoked an inexplicable flicker of irritation. 

It hadn't been hostility. Certainly not hatred. Just the strange feeling that the vampire's presence was bothersome in a way Lavinia couldn't explain.

Perhaps she belonged to another Princess.

Before Lavinia could ask, a rhythmic beating of wings sounded overhead.

Evangeline descended through the open air above the treeline, bright red hair shifting around her face as she hovered.

"I met an Elf."

Gwendolyn immediately stopped fighting Valerie. "You did?"

"I did."

"Did you bring her?"

Evangeline stared at her.

"What?"

"Why would I bring her?"

"I wanted to see her."

Valerie snorted. "Elves are nature's darlings, Gwen, not stray kittens."

Gwendolyn finally let Valerie pry her loose, although she immediately caught Lavinia's hand instead.

Valerie continued, "They live forever too—or close enough that time itself isn't the problem. Humans still view them as monsters, though." Her lips curled upward. 

"But humans will try to sell and buy anything pretty enough if they think they can get away with it. Vampires, Witches, Sirens, Dryads. Elves would sell for a fortune in some human societies."

Evangeline's nose wrinkled. "If I found humans trading vampires, I'd make them regret being born."

"That hasn't happened in a while," Gwendolyn said casually.

Lavinia wasn't sure whether that reassured her.

Her first thought was how humans could possibly capture enough supernatural beings to establish any sort of trade in them. 

Then she remembered that immortality didn't necessarily mean invulnerability.

Elves were apparently a perfect example.

"How strong are Elves?" Lavinia asked.

Evangeline descended enough to place her feet on the branch. "Physically? Not very, compared to us. Maybe around a Thrall. They're fast, though. Almost as fast as vampires."

"Almost," Valerie emphasized smugly.

"Yes, Valerie. Congratulations."

Valerie beamed.

Evangeline continued, "Archery is their specialty, and they have magic. Different from Witch magic. They don't need a dozen organs, somebody's childhood memories and a bowl carved from a tree struck by lightning to accomplish anything."

"You're exaggerating," Gwendolyn said.

"Only slightly."

Lavinia listened quietly. Elves didn't age, but they didn't possess the endless physical recovery that made vampires so difficult to restrain. 

An injured Elf remained injured. Hurt one badly enough and she couldn't simply knit herself back together and stand again. 

Their speed, archery and magic made them formidable, but if humans actually managed to capture one, there wasn't the same inevitable problem of a body repairing itself over and over until restraints failed.

"And they still beat humans senseless," Evangeline added cheerfully. "They're very good at that."

Lavinia sighed.

She stepped away from Gwendolyn, and her wings emerged from her back, unfolding through the gothic dress without tearing it. She spread them wide before driving them downward.

The branch dropped away.

Cold air rushed around Lavinia as she shot above the canopy. The distant castle dominated the horizon, immense stone towers rising from the surrounding landscape. 

Within seconds, more wingbeats followed her. Gwendolyn and Evangeline were already bickering again behind her, while Valerie periodically interjected solely to make whichever one was currently annoyed even more irritated.

It was so familiar.

That remained one of the strangest parts.

Lavinia had been dropped into a world she didn't know, among years she hadn't experienced, and yet sometimes she could almost pretend nothing had changed.

Then she remembered the humans hiding inside their homes before sunset.

The illusion disappeared.

They reached the castle quickly.

Lavinia descended before the enormous entrance and pushed open one of the doors. 

Seven vampires occupied an oversized couch in the entry hall, arranged across it with the casual disregard for personal space that Lavinia had long since stopped questioning.

All seven looked up.

Their expressions immediately warmed.

Two of them had apparently been biting each other. One still had her fangs against the other's neck when Lavinia entered. 

They separated quickly and sat upright, looking remarkably sheepish for immortal predators.

Evangeline walked in behind Lavinia, sniffed once, and rolled her eyes.

"Get a room."

The couch erupted into giggles.

One vampire waved at Lavinia. Another called a cheerful greeting. Lavinia returned it, although she couldn't remember the name of a single one of them.

Again, there was that familiarity.

They passed deeper into the castle.

"Where is everyone?" Lavinia asked.

Valerie tilted her head. "Probably the ballroom."

She took the lead.

Calling the chamber they eventually entered a ballroom was technically accurate. 

Lavinia could see what it was supposed to be beneath everything that had accumulated inside it.

At the moment, however, it looked as though several dozen immortal women had collectively decided an enormous ceremonial chamber made an excellent place to dump everything they wanted nearby.

Tables, couches, weapons, books, easels, cushions, crates, half-finished paintings and assorted objects Lavinia couldn't immediately identify occupied the room with absolutely no concern for matching one another.

Valerie spread her arms proudly.

"We clean it when another Princess comes. Or a Royal delegation from another species."

"And otherwise?"

"Big room."

Lavinia stared at her.

Valerie shrugged. "It's a really good big room."

More than thirty vampires occupied it.

Some Lavinia knew.

Some she had never seen before.

Others produced that maddening sensation that she should know them despite possessing no memory of ever meeting them.

Violetta stood over a hand-drawn map spread across a large table, speaking quietly with two vampires. 

Her purple hair fell over one shoulder as she pointed at something marked near a river. The moment she noticed Lavinia, her attention shifted.

Violetta smiled. "Everything okay?"

"Yes."

Lavinia hesitated before looking around again. Even her sense of smell struggled here. 

Dozens upon dozens of scents overlapped, some fresh, some lingering, some so interwoven with the castle itself that separating them was difficult.

"How many vampires are in my territory?"

Violetta laughed softly. "Did the Princess forget how many subjects she has?"

Lavinia said nothing.

For a peculiar moment, Violetta's eyes drifted upward.

Then the moment passed.

"If I'm remembering the latest count correctly, a little over eighty thousand."

Lavinia blanked.

Eighty thousand.

She had thought forty vampires inside the castle was extraordinary. She'd revised that upward after realizing there were many more scent trails than bodies. Perhaps eighty. A hundred.

Not eighty thousand.

She controlled eighty thousand vampires?

"Over..." Lavinia began before catching herself. "Eighty thousand."

Celestine looked up from a canvas nearby and lowered her paintbrush. "We rarely concentrate everyone in one place. That would be a nightmare."

She smiled.

"Everyone who's been with you from the beginning has noble titles now. None lower than Marchioness, actually. Technically we're supposed to spread out more." Celestine glanced toward the others. "We don't."

"Nobody wants to," Violetta said.

Celestine nodded. "Exactly."

Violetta's expression softened. "Vampires are the way we are. Separating ourselves simply to make administration look neater never made much sense."

"And we've yet to lose," Celestine added.

Violetta gave a small nod. "Most wars are handled by Thralls and vampires. Defending our territory isn't particularly difficult. Thralls use firearms, Blood Weapons when available, and whatever else is practical. If humans become too confident and push hard enough..."

She shrugged.

"I send more vampires."

There was no boast in it.

That somehow made the statement heavier.

Lavinia slowly looked across the ballroom.

Evelyn sat curled on a couch with a book, wearing a faint smile as she read.

Adelaide was playing some sort of game with a vampire Lavinia didn't recognize, repeatedly slapping the other woman's hand away from something on the table.

Rosaline stood dramatically atop a low platform while another vampire painted her.

"More elegance in the shoulders," Rosaline instructed.

"You've changed positions six times."

"Art requires adaptation."

Across the room, Gwendolyn had already abandoned Lavinia.

She bounced toward the unfamiliar white-haired vampire Lavinia now knew was her mother.

Eleanor.

No.

Sophia.

Lavinia still thought of her as Eleanor instinctively because that was the woman she'd known. 

But that woman no longer used that name. The vampire before her bore little resemblance to Gwendolyn's human mother.

Gwendolyn threw herself against Sophia and stretched the word into an absurdly long complaint.

"Mooooom."

Sophia merely smiled indulgently and patted her daughter's head.

Everyone looked...

Fine.

Happy, even.

They laughed. Painted. Read. Played games. Cuddled. Argued over nonsense. 

Bit each other because apparently even after five years vampires had found no reason to develop a concept of personal boundaries.

These were not monsters.

Not to Lavinia.

They were her people.

Some were her closest friends.

Yet somewhere beyond the castle, humans hid indoors because night had fallen and vampires might see them. 

Millions lived under vampire control, their blood taken as tax, their freedom contingent upon obedience. People taught their children not to draw vampire attention.

To those humans, the women laughing in this room were exactly what monsters looked like.

Lavinia's brow furrowed.

Something was wrong.

It took her several seconds to understand what.

Rosaline wasn't moving.

Neither was the vampire painting her.

Evelyn's fingers rested against a page she had stopped turning. 

Celestine's brush hung above the canvas without descending. 

Gwendolyn remained pressed against Sophia, both perfectly still.

Valerie stood beside Lavinia.

Motionless.

Everything had stopped.

Not quieted.

Stopped.

Lavinia turned slowly.

Someone stood beside the windows.

She hadn't noticed her before.

The figure looked outward across the world beyond the castle, standing with her back partly turned to Lavinia.

A girl.

At least, that was the closest description Lavinia could give her.

She wore nothing.

There was nothing to wear.

Nothing about her suggested nudity because there was no skin to expose, no anatomy Lavinia could meaningfully distinguish, no line where clothing might begin or end. 

She was simply darkness shaped into a feminine form. Long darkness fell around her head in the suggestion of hair, merging almost imperceptibly with shoulders and back that possessed no visible texture.

She wasn't black like cloth.

She wasn't black like skin.

She wasn't black like shadow.

Lavinia stared.

She turned her head.

Pale gray eyes met Lavinia's.

They were the only things about her that weren't swallowed by that impossible darkness.

Her face showed nothing.

No smile.

No hostility.

No curiosity.

Then she turned completely toward Lavinia.

"You skipped quite a few years."

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Lavinia didn't answer.

"That was my negligence," the Figure continued. "I'll fix it."

Lavinia's nails extended instinctively.

Then stopped.

Something about the girl was familiar.

That made no sense.

Lavinia had never seen her.

She was certain of that.

Yet the longer Lavinia stared, the more an old sensation crawled through her awareness. 

Not a scent. She had none. Not recognition. There was no face buried somewhere in Lavinia's memory.

It was something far more fundamental.

Nothing.

For one terrible instant Lavinia remembered standing in a world that wasn't dark because darkness implied an absence of light.

There had been no sight at all.

No sound.

No touch.

No body.

Seconds that felt like forever.

Forever that felt like seconds.

Then reality had returned, and Lavinia had been something else.

The First Divergence.

Then it had happened again.

The Second.

Lavinia stared at the girl-shaped absence before her.

The Figure didn't feel like the Divergences.

That was backward.

The Divergences had felt like her.

Lavinia's extended nails slowly retracted.

The Figure's pale eyelids lowered slightly.

"Since it was my mistake," she said, "you may have one wish."

Lavinia stared at her.

"One?"

"One."

"For what?"

"Anything."

There was no emphasis.

No dramatic shift in the room.

The girl made of darkness merely looked at her with those pale gray eyes while thirty vampires remained frozen around them.

Then she added, as casually as if discussing where Lavinia intended to go after dinner,

"Afterward, I'll return you to your own time."

???

Spoiler

The Thing in the Darkness

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