Page 79 of The Vampire King's Victory

Balthazar gave a sharp laugh. “No one we know, Arcius. No one who has ever stood out. No one of any importance. At least not to my mind.”

The Kaly slice’s final form was that of a man in his late twenties or early thirties. He had mousy brown hair and a rather pallid complexion with a spray of freckles across his nose. He was only 5’7” in height with a narrow body that bent forward asif he needed to peer ahead to ascertain that every step he took was safe. He was the type that shrank away from loud voices and kept to himself on the edge of parties. He watched and chewed his fingernails to the quick. He was unremarkable. Completely unforgettable.

But that was only on thesurface.

“Well, he’s bloody important now that he has Fiona!” Arcius cried.

“It’s not your fault that you didn’t know, Balthazar, who he really was,” Christian told him, intuiting the blame he was placing upon himself.

“I don’t know him at all, my darling, yet I should have. He passed by me many times. I vaguely remember his face, but I thought him to be of no consequence. In my greatwisdom, I saw only what he wanted me to see,” Balthazar said bitterly. “All this time, Roan was still alive. Roan was Kaly. My bastard maker. And I didn’t know at all! All this power and yet none at all.”

He stared down at his hands that he lifted up before them. He had been having fun taking down the Kaly slices. He had actually thought himself clever and powerful, actually Eyros again, and now…

Am I the Master?

Or the slave?

Daemon should do this. I should step back. Ask Daemon to take charge. I can’t do this.

Arcius’ hands were suddenly grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Balthazar, Fiona needs you!” He focused on his friend. “You beat him before when you were barely a babe out of the woods in Vampire terms. You can do it again!”

Could he? Or would he fail again? Like he had so many times before.

“Balthazar,” Daemon’s voice was soft, but it had the effect of a whip crack in his ears.

The Vampire King was dressed all in black except for his beloved long fur coat. He stood up, his imposing frame alone would have made him unforgettable. He did not hide who or what he was. He was the king. He spoke and Balthazar acted.

“YouareEyros, Balthazar,” Daemon said in that same soft, unhurried tone that yet seared the ideas into his mind. “Destiny isyourcity. You need to take it back and fully assume the mantle of leadership of your Bloodline.”

“You handled over half a dozen of me at once, Balthazar,” Caemorn reminded him. “You can handle this last remaining part. Roan-Kaly just wants you to believe you can’t. But objective reality says otherwise.”

He looked at Caemorn. As he had absorbed more of himself, Caemorn had become different. Not crazy or murderous or sociopathic. Well, not more than he already had been. Quieter though. More thoughtful. A little moreremote. And Balthazar knew that was where Caemorn liked to be, because there was less noise and less chance for rejection in this distance. But he spoke up now, in a way denigrating his own power, which cost him to say.

“I thought I handled him before, but I was wrong,” Balthazar said. “And I only did it by the skin of my teeth.”

“No, you did not.” Caemorn’s lips formed a small smile. “Surely, you understoodwhywhat you did was so very frightening for all the older Vampires.”

Balthazar frowned. “I killed my Master--”

“Withease,” Caemorn added. “It was the last part that gave me the leverage over them I needed to exile you. Roan was no one’s favorite, Balthazar. He was almost universally loathed. Having you kill him was agoodthing all around.”

“Can’t let fledglings go killing Masters and all that though,” Balthazar said with faux amusement.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But the way I was able to move them to act so swiftly, instead of sweeping it under the rug, was that you shouldn’t have been able to do what you did as easily as you did it,” Caemorn told him. “You were too strong too soon. I told them that you would rule them all in no long time if they weren’t careful. And, as always, I was right.”

Balthazar snorted. “As always?”

“Yes. As always.” Caemorn inclined his head. “And you,as always, will defeat me.”

Balthazar stared at him. He couldn’t mean that. Caemorn did not look away. He did mean that.

“I am more powerful than you, Balthazar,” Caemorn said with no false modesty. “But you… you always defeat me, because you understand me better than I do myself. And no matter how much I know about you, you are still a mystery to me at your core. That is just as true, if not truer, for Roan-Kaly.”

Click. Clack.Silver eyes locking on Balthazar’s. Fiona mouthing the word, “Help. Destiny. Help.”

No more delay. No more hesitation. He had to do something here.

“Daemon, can you open a gate to Destiny?” Balthazar asked.

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