To Pine for Pink Opals

Chapter 4: The Guard

Heldon barely remembered to take his saber back from the trembling attendant when he left the chamber. His stomach glued itself in his throat and he fought the urge to retch.

There was no way the trinity would agree to his proposal without his magic. The swamp would have to be developed and vampires detested construction work. The jewelry, especially the pink opals, were grand, but they weren't historical heirlooms.

And on top of it all, he'd have to stay an entire night with vampires, and the last time that happened, he let his father die.

This time, he would let his whole city die.

The werewolves would continue to kill, undeterred. He didn't know how to live with himself. Maybe he couldn't.

Maybe he shouldn't.

“–iator, wait!" Somehow Tival's voice rose over the rush of blood in his temples.

Heldon paused, what did he want now?

“Hey, I'm sorry about the terrible timing, but I think that they liked your proposal." Tival puffed, a bit out of breath due to catching up to him.

Heldon scoffed, his despair igniting to irritation because he didn't even know where to begin.

“It's over. They only liked it because I used my last two magic charges. I can't face my brother now, and…it's all because you dragged me into this. I never wanted to be here!" Heldon's voice twisted dark and fierce.

“I—" Tival started but Heldon warned him back with a finger.

“No. Don't even start. Everyone knows my brother Erik is the elite negotiator, not me. Yet you brought me here to humiliate me. For what? So, your coven can keep its silver and let us die like dogs to the werewolves? You know what? I don't care. It doesn't matter!" Heldon's eyes narrowed like flint, and he didn't feel the least bit guilty when Tival's striking face turned frantic.

“I did have a selfish reason for requesting you, but-–"

“I knew it. I knew deep down you couldn't possibly—" Heldon trailed off…flirted, be interested in, admired me? “...deep down I figured you were manipulating me, and I wish I hadn't been so stupid to fall for it."

Heldon's anger had deepened into a ball of lead where his heart had been.

“Heldon, I'm sorry let me –"

Heldon's rage flashed hot at his name.

“Do not use my name; this is not a social call. You did your duty wonderfully as Opalgate's envoy. You met me, you introduced me, now it's finished! Leave me alone, and never speak to me again." Heldon commanded with stern authority.

If Erik could see him now, even he'd have to respect him for this.

Heldon didn't wait for Tival's reaction as he marched down the hallway. He could use a drink.

His brother liked honeyed mead, his best friend liked wine, but Heldon preferred bitter ales. He could cheers to his last night as an honorable jawforcer.

Heldon had almost reached the visitor wing when he heard a laugh come from outside. The laugh was harmless, but he knew that voice. Heldon crept closer to the window, looking out into a moonlit garden.

“And that's when I showed my cards, full house, nines over ladies! I took all of Lady Sloane's guard's feeder money!" A tall vampire with long brown hair, dressed in Steelpoint's gray and red, bragged to another Steelpoint vampire.

The blood in Heldon's veins flowed in reverse.

'The Steelpoint coven will fulfill the prophecy.' Heldon remembered the exact words his father's murderer said, and they came from that carefree vampire in the garden.

Heldon just found his father's murderer enjoying life.

He was going to end that.

“Ryce, this is why I don't gamble. He's gonna be so hungry tonight." The other vampire replied. Ryce. He could remember that name. He just needed to make a plan.

He didn't have anything like a crucifix, but he did have his saber and his charm earrings. His earrings were little capsules filled with holy water. They prevented a vampire from feeding on him. He could break them open and bless his saber with the holy water. He'd do to Ryce just like that guard did to Tival.

A flash of Tival standing in the sunlight flitted through his mind, and he physically shook it out.

No, he needed to focus because slaying Ryce was his only chance at redemption. If he could get justice for his father, he'd fix everything.

“Negotiator Flay, we have your room prepared. We strongly suggest you stay there and rest until the trinity summons you." The attendant startled Heldon right out of his skin. He needed better situational awareness than this.

“Oh yes, um, please show me the way," Heldon answered. Strongly suggested meant there'd be a guard outside his door making sure he stayed inside.

The attendant nodded and took him up a few flights of stairs and down a long corridor with his room at the end.

“Inside is some food, and your personal provisions. Enjoy your rest." The attendant handed him a key and left.

Heldon opened a door to reveal a richly furnished room, which was nicer than even his own at his house. Canopy bed, furs on the floor, a desk, a covered tray of food, and most importantly a large window that looked out onto the grounds.

Perfect for sneaking out.

Heldon locked the door and opened the window. He took in a deep breath, gazing at the harvest moon. He breathed fresh night air into his lungs, and they filled with a rush of melancholy.

He swallowed down a sticky knot in his throat. Just yesterday he was practicing his swordplay and playing cards in the tavern. Now he let some ridiculously attractive vampire royal con him into failing his entire kingdom. With looks like Tival's it probably wasn't his first con.

He wanted to be needed so bad and look where it got him.

The wind tinkled his charm earrings and Heldon took in another long, shaky inhale. It was time to be a man.

He unsheathed his saber, the moonlight casting the silver and steel a bright blue.

Spinning around, he placed his saber on the desk and took off each earring as if they were made of eggshell. He held one gold teardrop earring up and carefully unscrewed the top.

He murmured a prayer and with the care of a master artisan, dripped holy water carefully onto one side of the sharp steel blade. He reached for his handkerchief to rub in the water…

That was right, Tival had it. He bit his lip knowing his envoy…former envoy still haunted him.

He took the napkin from the desk and wiped the water down the blade and repeated the same with the other earring. He broke a major human rule of not wearing protection in a vampire coven, but he was exhausted and just didn't care anymore.

If he couldn't even do this, why bother?

He opened the food tray and found various cheeses, pieces of bread, and what looked like steak but he never trusted the meat in a vampire coven.

Famished, Heldon stuffed some bread and cheese into his mouth while stretching his back, preparing to descend the scaffolding. He used to climb everything as a kid, and this was only three stories high. Piece of cake.

He eased himself down off the small windowsill till he dangled by his hands, feet touching the scaffolding below. Heldon eased his weight onto his toes then let go, finding handholds.

He repeated the same catlike move down until he heard a clamorous crash. Not unlike the sound of furniture breaking, a sound he knew well.

It came from his room.

“You stupid servant, where is he?! His stench and that of holy water are still here. He will pay for humiliating me and costing me my rank!" Heldon froze like a statue. Lady Sloane's guard was hunting him, and he'd find him.

Heldon couldn't fight him and hold onto the wall. He'd have to jump from here.

Lowering himself so that he dangled from another scaffold, he exhaled, relaxed.

And let go.

His bent legs hit the dirt and immediately rolled to distribute the force.

“There you are, time for some fun." The guard peeked his head out from the window, his long hair whipping.

“You picked the wrong night to mess with me." Heldon picked himself up, and his left ankle protested a little. He should've regretted using his magic on this vampire. It may have cost him his proposal and his one chance at slaying Ryce.

But this scumbag deserved it, so he didn't.

The guard lept from the windowsill and softly landed in front of him. What a show-off.

“You messed with me first. See, I don't have any more money for a quality feeder, so you're going to treat me." The guard growled out and Heldon remembered it was Ryce who took his money in poker.

“Sounds like you're bad with money and threats." Heldon unsheathed his saber just in time to parry the massive guard's attack. His arms rang from the force of the vampire's sword. He'd never sword fought a vampire before; the power difference was formidable.

But he was winning the deadlock.

Steel shrieked against steel as he counter attacked. Before the guard could swing his sword back around, he pivoted and found an opening. However, his ankle rolled, and his thrust caught him deep in his gut instead of his heart.

The guard shouted and dropped his sword. The wound hissed like water on hot rocks. Heldon tried to pull out his saber, but the guard grabbed it by its blade. He ripped it from Heldon's grip and threw it down the path.

“It will take more than just a little holy water to kill a royal guard." The guard slammed Heldon against the stone manor. His skull cracked against the wall and Heldon saw stars. Blood ran down his neck from where his head struck the sharp stone.

“For a guard, you're a second-rate swordsman." Heldon locked eyes with the glowing red glare of the Steelpoint guard. Bloodlust. Whenever a vampire was hungry, angry, or aroused, their eyes changed to crimson.

“But I won." The vampire yanked him up by his braid to make him dangle. With one hand, the vampire pinned his neck in place and air vacuumed out of Heldon's throat.

He kicked the smoking wound, but he only winced. The grip on his neck tightened like a vice. Heldon couldn't inhale, and the world got even dimmer.

“Feisty. I like it when humans struggle," the vampire opened his mouth to reveal his fangs and he dipped his head. He licked up the blood with a wet stripe of his tongue. “But I don't get what all the fuss is about you. You don't taste that great."

“Well, I'm great at cards." Heldon rasped out. He was going to die here, and he forgot to write a letter telling Erik about finding Ryce. Damn.

Fangs pricked his skin and instead of despair, he felt tired.

Thuck.

Heldon fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air, eyes-rolling. Everything swirled around him as his blood flow returned. Before he could even sit up, a strong pair of arms lifted him up as if he weighed nothing.

A hand cupped his jaw and moved it. And while everything sounded underwater, and his vision blurred out of focus, he knew the scent of sandalwood, earth, and rain.

“Tival?" He murmured.

“Thank the stars he didn't… you're alive. I was almost too late." Tival choked out, his voice pitching. The moonlight lit his golden hair up almost silver, and his eyes blazed a vivid pink. Pink like the gems he had offered. What were those gems called?

“...pink opals." Heldon slurred, the pounding in his head swam his vision and he blacked out.