The Caged Bird

40. Rebirth

The wait was over. The time to strike was now. Vayn's scout described the scene he had witnessed. The corridor just outside the birthing chamber had several arched windows. One had been opened despite the cold and it was this opening that would grant them access to the mansion. He had watched servants leave the lord's chamber one by one and was confident that the Lord and Lady were now alone. He could smell the heavy metallic scent of blood in the air. The quantity was enormous. The lady must not have survived the birth of her bastard. Vayn smiled at this news. It was just one less target to eliminate. The group moved efficiently through the dark courtyard and began scaling the building. They used hooks on long ropes to pull themselves up the cold stone and towards the open window. When they reached it they rested for a moment and gathered their thoughts before sliding into the corridor. Vayn sent one accomplice to the end of the hall to block the exit and led Devroe into the chamber. The first room was empty. Only a few stray candles illuminated the space. It was a sitting room lavishly decorated with furs and mounds of fresh flowers. The heavy sweet fragrance of the flower was strong but the scent of blood lingered with it creating a nauseating aroma. Vayn was tempted to raise her sleeve to her face to stifle it. But there was no time. She had to act now. The indisputable leader of the group, Vayn sent the last two accomplices to investigate the doors that led from the sitting room to the private chambers. All of them were empty. She and Devroe focused on the final door, the only room that had not been searched. Without hesitation Vayn ran to the door, unsheathed her blades, and burst into the room.

Inside the smell of blood was overpowering. The wide bed in the center of the room was covered in red stains that had soaked through piles of blankets, pillows, and towels. In some places it had dripped to the floor forming sickly pools of black on the carpet. The room was dimly lit but she could see that the soaking tub in the floor was filled with bloody water. It was like the scene of a massacre. But Vayn was not deterred. With Devroe close behind her she did a cursory search of the area. But there was no one there. The door they had come through was quietly closed and they faced one last door that was tucked into a corner. August and Lark could not have escaped the chambers. They had been watching the area closely. There was nowhere for them to flee.

As they approached the closed door Devroe began to grow impatient. He pushed past Vayn, a growl forming in his throat, and threw the door open with great force. Standing just inside was August, a sword held tightly in his hand. Lark and her infant were nowhere to be seen though the room was large and they could be easily concealed somewhere inside. Though it was impossible that Lark had survived the traumatic birth, her corpse must be hidden among the heavy drapery and tall bookcases lining the walls. The baby must be here also. But where?

As Vayn surveyed the room Devroe had already rushed forwards towards his rival. He yanked his sword clumsily from its gilded scabbard and roared as he brought it savagely down on August's head. But the lord sidestepped the aggressive attack and responded with a smooth parry that sliced a gaping wound in Devroe's chest. It was clear that Vayn and Devroe had been expected to appear. But where was Lark? Vayn slipped past the battling vampires and deeper into the chamber. August attempted to pursue her but was cut off by Devroe's fanatic advances. She hurried towards the hidden recesses of the dark space where she sought proof of Lark's death. If she had somehow survived she would be weak. Very weak. And extremely vulnerable. Vayn turned around a row of bookcases and through a maze of stacked volumes and aging antiques but could not find her prey. Just as she had decided to turn back and help Devroe, whose screams had begun to fill the room, her eyes were drawn to a faint glimmer in a dark corner. Shrouded by a thin black curtain sat a still figure in a cushioned chair. Was is Lark? Vayn crept closer, expecting to find a pale corpse hidden from sight to lessen the pain of her loss. But she found something very different.

The glint she had seen was the flash of a sword. It rested in the hand of a woman who was very much alive. The figure rose slowly to full height and though they were still obscured by the darkness they radiated an aura of power and dominance. Vayn almost fled but her curiosity and rage drove her onward. She straightened up and closed the distance between them but at the last moment, the figure stepped into the light. It was her target. Now illuminated by the distant candlelight, Lark showed no sign of her weakened state. She stood tall and imposing with the sword held loosely at her side. She was prepared to fight. Vayn's surprise caused her to hesitate. How was this possible? Whose blood painted the nearby chamber? Where was the child?

Vayn raised one of her daggers and flicked it expertly in Lark's direction. But despite the accuracy of her throw, Lark avoided the weapon easily. She moved so quickly that Vayn could barely perceive that she had missed. A realization began to dawn on her. She could not risk losing her other dagger and so darted forward and slashed cleanly at Lark's exposed face. But to her horror Lark avoided this strike as well and grabbed the wrist that held the second dagger with surprising strength. Vayn was immobilized momentarily and it was in this second that Lark held her sword to Vayn's throat. Devroe's screams echoed around them as Lark stared coldly into Vayn's eyes. Fear began creeping into Vayn's consciousness. She might not escape this alive. She had never seen Lark like this, using her body as a weapon. The Lady stood before her exerting an otherworldly control of the assassination attempt. Both she and Devroe had been so easily thwarted. The other assassins had no chance of escape. Vayn's anxiety overcame her and she lost her footing, falling to her knees. She gazed up at Lark with contempt, filled with a burning disappointment and humiliation. The sword was sharp and cold against her skin.

"I surrender," Vayn spat. There was no other choice. She would be killed otherwise. A small smile appeared on Lark's face.

"What was that?" she hissed, tilting Vayn's face up with the point of the sword.

"I surrender," Vayn repeated. She felt sick. She never could have predicted it would end this way. How could she have known what August would do to make sure his wife would be by his side forever? As she kneeled in the shadowy chamber and Devroe's screams finally ceased she finally understood. The cries of an infant began to rise and fall from a chest nearby. It was left slightly open to keep the child from being smothered. Lark's son lay safely in a bundle of blankets, hidden from the violence that had just occurred. August ran into view and retrieved the child from its safe place. He cradled it close to him despite the blood covering much of his body. His fight with Devroe had been violent. Though his foe now lay dead and mutilated, August had not escaped unscathed. A wound in his side was bleeding heavily. Despite this he approached Vayn and Lark with the child in his arms. His face was expressionless and empty as he stared down at Vayn. The fondness he had once had for her evaporated leaving nothing but contempt. She shrank away from his intense eyes.

"I'll leave her to you, my love," he said softly. Lark nodded. August took his son and left to find the doctor. Sara would watch over the child until Lark was finished with her captor. She lowered the sword slightly as if to give Vayn an opening to retaliate. But Vayn knew she had no chance of leaving this room alive if she resisted. Lark loomed over her, leaning down to her level to look her directly in the eyes.

"You have made a grave mistake," she whispered. Vayn stayed still and silent. But her submission could not save her now. Lark threw down the sword and it clattered loudly against the stone. She wrapped a cold hand firmly around Vayn's neck and brought her closer until her mouth was nearly touching her bare throat. A snap of electricity passed between them, one of prey succumbing to the power of a predator. Lark felt a hunger she had never before experienced. The blood rushing through Vayn's body was like an elixir of life. The heady rich scent was overwhelming. She could no longer resist. Her pent up rage exploded outwards and she bit savagely into Vayn's flesh. And for the first time in her life, she drank.