The King's War

14. Hope

NATHANIEL

The first thing I did when I woke up the next evening was to text Avery and Travis to check how they were doing. Avery replied right away, saying she was fine, but Travis hadn't. That was unusual, but not troubling. Chalking it up to preoccupation, I readied for my day.

Strangely, he still hadn't replied by the time I got to my office. I texted again, then set upon checking my emails. At the top of the list was one from Mrs. Brandon. All worry about Travis's silence forgotten, I opened it up.

Mr. Clark,

I've looked into your request and was fortunate to find something that might help you. An ancestor of one of my coven sisters had the curious hobby of attempting to cure vampirism. She was unsuccessful, of course, but her old grimoire had some rather interesting spells and potions pertaining to your kind. One of them seems to be exactly what you're looking for. I've attached a scan of the relevant page. I hope you find it useful.

- Evelyne Brandon.

I opened the attachment, hardly able to believe my luck. The image was of a yellowed page with a scrawled recipe for a "Bloodlust Suppressant." It required human and vampire blood, as well as some other ingredients I'd never heard of. I forwarded it to Dr. Swenson, thinking that if anyone could make headway with the recipe, it was her. Then I printed it out for my own perusal.

I typed out my thanks to Mrs. Brandon, my mind still reeling. Yesterday, I'd managed to secure the Daphne Sinclair's cooperation in preventing war in the South. Avery had called me to confirm that our relationship wasn't doomed. And tonight, this recipe fell into my lap. Everything was coming up Nate Bryce.

I stared down at the printout, memorizing every word. Hope bloomed within me. If this could really work, I could cross a major problem off of my list. It wasn't a long-term solution towards making things work with Avery, but it was a start. She would appreciate it greatly. I itched to tell her about it but decided it was wiser to refrain until it was confirmed to work.

But if it did work... I would hardly be the only vampire to benefit from it. Perhaps it could be patented for mass production...

And perhaps I shouldn't be so optimistic. There must have been a reason for why this knowledge was relegated to some old witch's attic and forgotten.

The intercom beeped. "Duke Hale wants to speak to you."

For once, I wasn't dreading what Balthazar had to say. "Send him in."

The duke entered, his normally dour expression absent from his face. Already a good sign. "I must say, I'm pleased that you finally listened to my advice, and that you were able to talk the witch into a compromise."

Technically, I hadn't. Me working with Daphne Sinclair had nothing to do with Balthazar and everything to do with me being under duress from her sudden appearance in my office. Same went for the deal we'd struck. But I'd happily take the credit. "I realized that it would be easier to work with her than try to remove her and face the potentially catastrophic consequences."

Balthazar crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully. "So how do you plan to honor her terms?"

I scowled. "That I don't know. Where the hell am I supposed to find a suitable replacement for Sheridan that she approves of? Sheridan's allies in the South will not stand for it. They'll have to be removed somehow."

"Somehow," Balthazar repeated, eyebrow raised.

I winced. "I was hoping to negotiate, but it may indeed come to that."

"And here I thought the purpose of this alliance was to avoid unnecessary bloodshed," he said.

"You know there are only two ways this can end for them," I said grimly. Either they submit, or they die. The Sinclairs weren't known to submit. "But we'll worry about that when we get there."

Balthazar looked unconvinced, but he didn't say anything else. His gray eyes landed on the printed page sitting in front of me. "What's that?"

I slid it over to him. "Nothing that relates to our current predicament, but it does have the potential to help our kind."

His eyes widened as he took in the information on the page. "'Bloodlust suppressant?' Where'd you get this?"

I scratched my head, not wanting to get into the specifics of why I'd sought the potion out. "The Sisters of Hecate helped me contact Daphne Sinclair. One of them apparently had an ancestor who was trying to find a cure for vampirism. This came from her grimoire."

"A cure?" Balthazar asked breathlessly. I saw the sliver of hope spring inside the old vampire's eyes and my heart broke for him. Balthazar never truly made peace with what he was. Given how cruelly he was turned, it was hard to blame him.

During those first few years after I was turned, Balthazar was like a father to me. He taught me everything I knew about survival, and he'd done so with patience and understanding. It did not surprise me to learn that he'd once had a son of his own. Once, I'd asked what happened to his family, expecting to hear a story of how his son grew up, married, had children, and grew old the way humans aught. The answer I received horrified me to this day. The two of us never spoke of his old life or his maker ever again.

"Balthazar," I said softly. "Don't you think that if it worked, we'd have heard of it by now?" As soon as I'd said those words, I felt the same longing tug at my own heart. Damn it.

Balthazar's shoulders slumped, but I could still see the gleam of determination in his eyes. "I... must return to Albany for a few days. Good luck, Nathaniel." He departed, leaving me wondering just what was going on inside his head.

I whipped out my phone to see if Travis responded. Not only did he not reply, but the messages I sent him came back undelivered. Something wasn't right. I tried calling him. It went straight to voicemail. I tried calling Avery, which had the same result.

Dread seeped in. I decided to call the Crawfords, to make sure I wasn't overreacting.

Avery's mother picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" she asked in a breathless, frantic voice that told me something had to be wrong.

"Hi, Mrs. Crawford. This is Nathaniel Bryce. I was wondering if everything was all right with your daughter."

"No!" the woman all but wailed. She paused, collecting herself. "I mean— Your Majesty, I'm glad you called. Everything's... not all right. Avery went for a ride earlier this evening and never came home."

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. My thoughts fractured into a dozen different directions for what could have happened. I had to will myself to stay calm. "There was supposed to be a guard following her. Where is he?"

"He's gone and so is his car. The police didn't find anything except my daughter's bike," Mrs. Crawford answered.

The possibility that Travis was a double agent who kidnapped Avery ran through my head. If that turned out to be true, I'd never forgive myself.

"Where was Avery last seen?" I asked.

"People saw her at the pier, but her bike was found by the scenic overlook," she replied.

I shut my eyes tightly. The scenic overlook. Of all the places for Avery to disappear, why did it had to be that one? Was the universe playing some sort of cruel joke on me?

"I'll send a team to aid the police in their search right away," I told Mrs. Crawford.

No. I couldn't just relegate this to other people. I'd come myself, the war be damned. And I prayed I won't be too late.

I know this chapter's a little short, but it sets up some stuff that'll come into play later.