“Only a little bit. I mean, I know about the Propagators.” I shuddered at the memory of Julius and his little harem.
“Yes, and they make up the largest portion of the opposition, along with the Wampiri—they hunt from noon to midnight—and a few feral, ancient tribes. Let me put it this way—our kind can basically be divided into two groups. One believes that vampires are the higher race, superior beings to mere mortals. Ultimately, they’d like to grow their numbers to the point that they can subjugate humanity. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
A shiver raced down my spine. “Yeah, I think I get it.”
“The others,” she continued, “feel far more connected to our humanity. Our aim is to coexist with mortals, to remain cloaked by the screen of myth and legend. We fear that the discovery of our existence would lead to panic and panic to mass destruction of our kind. Up till now, the two sides have managed to agree to disagree. Some of the dissenters choose to live under Tribunal law and therefore are afforded our protection, and some choose not to.”
“What’s changed, then?”
“The Propagators’ numbers have swelled recently, and they’ve launched several mass attacks on the populace in Eastern Europe. We’ve contained the situation, but just barely. The Tribunal decided to send out an army, which basically amounts to a declaration of war.
“But then there was a coup from within. While the battle for the Eldest rages among the ancients, the Propagators are taking full advantage of our state of disarray. Worse, we’ve learned that a traitor—a member of the Tribunal—has given valuable information to our enemy. Information about our greatest weapon.” She paused, glancing over at Aidan, who sat now with his head cradled in his hands.
This had something to do with him, obviously. I couldn’t help but remember the time I had breached her mind, right here in her office. She’d thought of Aidan as her “crown jewel.”
“Go on,” I prodded.
“There’s a legend—a prophecy, if you will—that the Tribunal has carefully guarded for centuries. The legend speaks of a leader—the Dauphin, we call him in my native tongue—who is a male vampire of royal blood, turned before his eighteenth birthday.
“There are several elements to the legend, including the fact that the Dauphin’s maker cannot know of her victim’s royal blood at the time of his making. You see, so that no one sets out to intentionally fulfill the prophecy.”
The full effect of her words finally sank into my muddled brain. Aidan was the Dauphin. At least, she thought he was.
“Other parts of the legend specify the Dauphin’s exceptional abilities. One, he cannot be destroyed—not by a vampire. Two, he will possess the ability to command the Sâbbat and the Krsnik, giving him power over both breed of vampire slayer.”
I must have looked surprised by this, because she smiled, arching an auburn brow. “Yes, there’s another kind, chérie. Perhaps Luc can answer your questions about the Krsnik later. Luc is, after all, the most knowledgeable of our kind where slayer legend is concerned.”
I remembered the ancient, dusty book tucked away in my dorm room. It had been Luc who’d given the book to Aidan, who’d translated the page about Sâbbats and the Megvédio. Did they know the truth about Matthew? Or did I still have one secret left to keep?
“Anyway”—she waved one hand—“there’s much, much more, but I won’t bore you with the details. The most important thing is that the Dauphin’s power usurps all others, even that of the Eldest. He will take control of the Tribunal, and all will bow to him. He can bring peace, you see. Safety to the human race. With the Sâbbat and the Krsnik under his control, he can ensure that those who refuse to follow the law will be summarily destroyed.”
“And you think Aidan is the Dauphin,” I said, stating the obvious.
She nodded. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he is. It would appear that Blackwell figured it out before I did. He was a clever one, that Augustus Blackwell—clever and ambitious. I should have known that, with his vast knowledge of legend and lore, he might eventually stumble upon something, a hint of some sort.
“But it was Goran Petrović who ultimately betrayed us all, giving Blackwell the specific information he needed about the prophecy, information that no one save the Tribunal was privy to. The Propagators made him promises he couldn’t refuse—he would eventually rule all, they bargained, both vampire and subjugated mortal alike. All he had to do was destroy the Dauphin. Or have you destroy him, Miss McKenna, since a vampire cannot.”
I looked over at Aidan, waiting for him to speak, to say something about that awful day last spring. But he didn’t—he just sat there, as silent and still as a statue. “Bu-but Blackwell sent Jenna in to save us,” I stammered, completely unnerved by Aidan’s haggard, haunted expression.
Mrs. Girard shrugged. “That I cannot explain. A last-minute change of heart, perhaps? I suppose we’ll never know.”
I digested that in silence.
“So, you must see my dilemma. We need a leader. We need someone to restore the peace, to end the war and ensure the safety of both mortals and vampires alike. I couldn’t very well have Aidan cure himself, no matter how sympathetic I might be to that cause. I didn’t mean for the tampered serum to affect him the way it did—those attacks were an entirely unexpected consequence. But once they were discovered . . . well, I couldn’t tip my hand and show him preferential treatment. He had to be punished. The outbreak of war and ensuing chaos provided the necessary opportunity to release him, and so here we are.”
My heart was thudding in my chest now, anger racing through my veins. I still couldn’t believe she’d done that to Aidan—turned him into a killer. I struggled to rein it in, to keep my voice calm and controlled. “So . . . why do you need my help?”
“Simply to help me persuade Aidan to do what he was created to do—to assume the role of the Dauphin and take his rightful place by my side on the newly formed Tribunal.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “And if I don’t?”
Her smile turned my blood to ice. “Well, then I suppose I’ll just have to make you destroy him, won’t I?”
13 ~ Dead Man Walking
Instinctively, I reached for my stake. I stopped myself just short of pulling it from its sheath.
“I assure you there’s no need for that, Miss McKenna,” Mrs. Girard said quickly, rising from her seat, both palms pressed against the desk. “We’re all friends here, on the side of right.”
Straightening, I glanced over at Luc, expecting him to look as if he were ready to pounce. Instead, his attention was focused on Aidan. For a moment, I studied Luc closely, prodding the invisible barrier that protected his mind. Immediately, I felt the wall crumble, the thoughts tumbling out.
He must agree. We need him too badly—he’s our only hope.
Other thoughts, mostly jumbled, took over my consciousness. I barely had time to make heads or tails of them, but the message was clear. I could sense Luc’s desperation, his panic. I had to press my fingers against my temples to break the connection, hoping that I looked as if I were massaging away a headache or something.
“I think you two need some time alone.” Mrs. Girard walked briskly around her desk, stopping at Aidan’s side. She laid a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “Is there somewhere you can go, mon chou? Somewhere you can talk without fear of interruption?”