Time stood still.
Argentalium bent, steel cut through the air and for a second, just a second, Mir prayed that he'd find peace in death. Then the spell broke. His wrists suddenly gave way as the cuffs snapped in half and he flung the two half-fangs aside. He ducked backwards.
Dust flew up where the antique sword hit the floor, where his neck had been moments earlier.
Mir snatched it from Valtov's hands and threw it. The weapon crashed somewhere behind him, but he ignored that. All he could concentrate on was the combination of fear, relief and rage flooding his veins. He snatched the elder vampire by the throat and dragged Valtov down to his level where he was still chained to the floor. His nails dug into the vampire's neck so sharply that blood started to leak between his fingers.
Valtov choked something but his vocal chords were too crushed for it to be discernible.
With cold eyes and a taut jaw Mir reached one hand behind him and released the chains on his calves. The other remained clenched around his attacker. His gaze remained locked on the table of council members. Many of them looked shocked and many of them he recognised but not one moved to protect their so-called leader. Phaelyss wasn't even bothering to conceal his glee.
His hand wormed around with the buckles on the chains as Valtov started to struggle again. The vampire swung his head upwards, splashing red over them as his hands yanked Mir's away. He stumbled away from the vampire, spitting blood through smiling teeth.
"If we'd found you like this, Dracula. You could've been our leader."
Finally free of the chains on his legs, Mir stood. "I will be your leader,"
"No." Though he appeared calm, Mir knew Valtov was afraid. The vampire's eyes sailed around the room, focussing briefly on everything, constantly flicking back to his. He seemed aware that Mir was going to kill him. "This council is loyal to me,"
Mir snatched up the fallen sword.
"Even if you manage to overpower me, the vampire world won't have you."
He hefted the weapon. Valtov continued talking and Mir saw Phaelyss moving behind him.
"No vampire will have you as their King."
"-You sure about that?"
Both vampires stopped as the tip of a stake erupted through Valtov's chest. He exploded in a shower of dust leaving Mir with his sword and Phaelyss, clutching the handle of the stake.
The turncoat vampire nodded to the council. "I think I would." His eyes flicked to Mir. I'll set the terms was what his eyes said.
Mir didn't say anything but he let the vampire speak to the council. They were as stiff as the stone gargoyles lining the walls and just as ugly. It made him wonder why he didn't just slaughter them all.
Phaelyss started talking to the council, words, excuses and platitudes rolling from his lips with the soft cadence of a manipulator. Mir didn't pay attention. His eyes trailed up and down the walls, identifying the mould growing on the walls and watching spiders weave cobwebs.
Should he have re-entered the fold? Mir almost laughed. Apparently he hadn't lost all of his impulsiveness. If he was smart he should've run away like Vlad had been intending to.
It slapped him in the face right there and then. He'd been so caught up in restoring his memories that he had managed to undo every single thing Vlad had done. That wouldn't have been a problem, except he felt guilty…
He suddenly realised that everyone was staring at him. Backtracking the conversation he realised one of the council had just made a scathing remark about the length of his reign – specifically how he would barely last another month because of his reputation.
In response he ripped open his shirt. "Take a shot, I dare you." His torso was a canvas of bullet holes and scars including the two failed attempts at staking him, twin silver slices, right over his heart. A few eyes flicked to the sword, flicked to the stake that rested in Valtov's ashes. Mir almost hoped that one of them would try it; he'd love to make an example out of something.
Self-preservation won out. Not a single council member shifted on their seats. The accuser was trying their best to turn invisible.
Maybe an hour had passed since Ingrid had left. Conversation had blazed, and then dissolved into silence. Erin stood on the far side of the cell, doing her best to ignore the half fang's fidgeting and the rings of the padlock as Cheyenne tried her best to open the door. Erin knew better than to force an argentalium lock.
Her thoughts were far from the pointless vampire behind her; all she could see in her mind was Mir – because Cheyenne would be pointless if Mir was gone. If Mir was gone… Everything would be pointless.
She laid a hand on the stone wall, watching how the candle light flickered across her fingers. What happened to her now? The two half-fangs of the Chosen One, trapped together in a cell. They were the most powerful bitten-vampires in the world – what would the council do to them?
Perhaps they would join Mir as dust.
Cheyenne halted her offensive on the door. "Erin?" She was a mere child in vampire terms and her behaviour begged for approval. "Erin, can you-"
"Shut the fuck up Cheyenne." Mir was dead, she needed time to come to terms with this. The new vampire slumped on the floor, big eyes fixed on Erin's back. Erin ignored her. She'd done this grief-dance once before, in a split second, in the other slayer base when Mir was staked. It started with denial – but that had passed already – and now she was in numbness.
Who was she, now that anyone who'd known her truly was gone? Ryan, Jonno, Vlad, Mir all gone from her, one way or another.
Cheyenne started to murmur again, but a scarlet glare from Erin stopped her.
What would she do if she escaped and was back in world, untethered?
The answer was that she didn't want to know. And she needed to believe, if only for now, that Mir was alive. She turned around sharply and her pale green eyes fixed on the newly-transformed vampire.
"If I told you to dash yourself against wall, would you?"
"What?" Cheyenne looked less glad that Erin was finally talking to her.
"Would you dash yourself against the wall?"
The half-fang leaned away from her. "I don't know?"
Erin yanked her to her feet and pointed her at the back wall of the cell. "Do it now." Two wide brown eyes stopped on her, seemingly terrified. "Go on then," She smiled and tapped her on the shoulder.
Cheyenne nodded unsteadily and moved into position to charge the wall. She leaned forwards slightly and shot a glance at Erin. The vampire nodded. Cheap boots skidded on a damp floor and the younger vampire leapt forward.
Erin snatched her wrist and halted her sprint entirely. "You're loyal!" She snarled through clenched fangs and dropped the other vampire, disgusted. Seeing her, chocolate eyes pleading to Erin, craving approval sent revulsion spiralling through her system. She darted back until she was pressed against the wall that Cheyenne had very nearly killed herself against.
She hadn't expected it. For some reason despite knowing perfectly well how a human is transformed into a vampire she had let this particular fact pass her by. Cheyenne was loyal… to her.
The half-fang in question looked at her helplessly.
"Stay back." Erin snapped. Her eyes were blazing with panic, and rage and aversion and before she could stop it she was reliving her first moments as a vampire. There had been no loyalty. Far from it, the second she became aware of the distinct lack of throbbing pulse seething, frothing hatred had begun to consume her and it hadn't stopped.
Not until she came across a twat called Mir in a lavish bar.
Why had she never experienced loyalty, but Cheyenne had?
Erin's eyes, sharp and shattered, like broken glass, shut in resignation. She knew why. It was a horrible little word that she lo- she needed – to ignore that began with L and ended with an O. a V and an E.
Fucking Vlad and his bleeding fucking heart.
She allowed herself to sink against the wall slightly. Here it was – disgusting proof that Vlad had loved her, and that like he'd begged her to believe – that same love had overwhelmed him. The half-fang sat on the floor. This knowledge shouldn't have made such a difference. This new information wasn't new – it was something she had suspected but hadn't allowed herself to believe. This discovery was just a discovery about a boy she had loved a long time ago but no longer did.
Ah, fuck it. She was terrible at lying to herself.
She scowled at Cheyenne, the young vampire still had an expression of a kicked puppy and tried her best to forget what she was thinking about.
"What does loyalty feel like?" She barely derailed the conversation from her thoughts. Barely, but just enough to let her concentrate on something else. Cheyenne's lips broke in a smile at the reprieve from abuse and undeserved rage.
"Like a thread." The vampire's voice was filled with wonder – as if she was experiencing it for the first time as she vocalised it. "An invisible thread connecting me to you. It's electricity, it's a bond, it's everything." She looked at Erin fully. "It's more than just blood and bite."
Something about the way Cheyenne spoke reminded Erin of the strange connection between her and Mir, but she had no time to ponder.
There was noise in the corridors and Ingrid leapt into their cell block. Her eyes shot to them and for a second Erin thought she recognised panic.
I'm alive, I'll get you and Cheyenne out. The telepathic message confirmed that Ingrid was afraid, and she had good reason to be.
Mir had survived. And the joy that filled her felt like electricity.