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“Where is everybody? I thought this was going to be some kind of mass meeting?” Will voiced another valid concern. It was not Maddox who answered. Nor was it Lorien.
“MADDOX!” A voice rang out through the echoing emptiness. A figure appeared on the stairwell. A short, slight, unimpressive figure with dwindling hair slicked over to the side. Maddox could see that all the way at the relatively great distance. It was Chauvelin. And it was a trap.
“What are you doing, boy? Wasting my time will not go well for you.” Maddox sighed, thoroughly annoyed. He did not have time for this.
“I’m not here to waste your time. I’m here to kill you.”
“From all the way over there? Come down here, boy. Face me if you wish.”
Chauvelin did not move.
“You killed me,” Chauvelin pointed at Will. “You buried me alive,” he pointed at Lorien. “And you killed the kings of New York,” he jabbed an accusing finger in Maddox’s direction, which was very unfair but also didn’t much matter anymore. It was the truth as commonly accepted, and that meant the actual truth was a complete irrelevance. “I am here to avenge all those cruelties and crimes, and I have the support of the populace to do it.”
“I don’t think the vampires of New York are going to unite behind a fledgling who only very narrowly avoided becoming a feral. You are weeks old, Chauvelin. You have no history. You have no legacy. You barely know how to use those fangs; I am sure they keep slipping out when you least expect it.”
“I studied at the feet of the kings. I was their prince,” Chauvelin spat. “And I am ready to face you now.”
Maddox laughed. It was ridiculous. “Who turned you? Who fed you? Who are you being puppeted by now?”
“Someone who noticed when you put my breathing body in the ground.”
“Someone who doesn't have the nerve to show his or her face now.”
“Someone who trusts me to handle a little garbage disposal. That's what the three of you are. That’s what you’ve always been, Maddox, you human fucker. You mate with men because no vampire worth his salt will have you, and no female will touch your cursed cock.”
Maddox laughed. “You sound a little hungry, boy. Is that what you need? Cock? Would fucking you the first time you came to my house have saved all this trouble?”
“No, Maddox. You can’t corrupt the just with sex. Your criminal consorts are already fallen.”
“You do know you’re a vampire now, right?” Lorien interrupted. "There is no being just anymore. You’re a filthy undead waste of decay just like the rest of us. You’re a fucking joke.” He punctuated the words with mocking laughter.
It died on his lips as the shadows surrounding the circular point of light rolled back at a gesture from Chauvelin to reveal several hundred vampires, none of them more than middle-aged, but still quite astonishing and intimidating in numbers. Chauvelin had not only not come alone, he had come in force.
“Where are your makers?” Maddox asked the question.
“Our makers don’t want any part of this,” Chauvelin said.
“Sounds like you," Lorien pointed out.
Maddox appreciated the irony, but it was not the time for it.
“Revolutions are the actions of the young and the brave,” Chauvelin said. “We stand against your murderous tyranny, Lord Maddox.”
“I’m not a Lord.”
“But you are a tyrant and a murderer.”
“I am trying so desperately hard not to be either of those things, but you make both terribly attractive,” Maddox deadpanned. There was a giggle from the crowd. They were all so young, so misguided, so lost. So in need of real leadership.
“It’s you,” Lorien said to Maddox. “It has to be you. Take the fucking crown. Take charge.”
“It’s me!” Chauvelin declared. “It’s going to be me! Attack!”
The crowd of vampires surged forward. Maddox was not concerned for himself, but he needed to protect Lorien and Will at all costs. He dropped all pretense at humanity and became the thing all humanity has feared from the beginning of time. His fangs grew terrifyingly long, and his eyes shifted silver black.
His human features were consumed by the ancient evil that usually slumbered at the core of him, making him more fierce than ever. Wings sprouted from his shoulders, a vast black expanse of black bat skin tipped with clawed ends. His span cast a shadow over the approaching army of young vampires who could never have dreamed of being what he now was. He could kill a half dozen vampires in this form. There was none who could stand against him.
But it was not enough to stop an army of irate, starving fledglings and ferals with no sense, no intellect, nothing in their minds besides the need to kill. And Maddox, no matter how powerful he was, could not kill all of them. They would overwhelm him; they would sweep around him and attack Lorien and Will. He was going to lose everything, even if he himself survived.
