The Secret Rebellion

The Secret Rebellion

“Well then, trust me when I say this, Denise, my face will be the last thing you'll see.” He snarls in my face, and then he's leaving, his long legs eating up the space between the oak tree and the gate of the orchard. 

I sigh, looking up at the tiny little stars, debating my life choices, like the day I found out about the supernatural in my alley when an elementalist sucked the very air out of the lungs of a shifter, and I ran towards them, instead of away. The day I decided to become one of them, and of all the supernaturals, I chose to be a Vampire because I liked Rebekah in The Originals. I'm quickly finding out that, try as it might, my reality will never change, no matter how much I alter it.

“You did good,” His voice comes out of the darkness. And I scoff internally. For some reason, Damien still thinks I need his approval.

“Yeah, and I got only a death threat. It's a good day today,” I lay the sarcasm on thick.

“The Council will protect you,” He says, stepping into the moonlight. His eyes are a brilliant yellow, and my breath catches in my throat. Oh, dead gods, he's hot. I might have had a thing for the guy, but I hate the effect he still has on me. 

I let out a small cough to clear my throat. As the Alpha of the Silver Pack, he believes in honour and loyalty and protecting the weak, as the girl who's had encounters with the Vampire King, Drake, I believe in protecting myself first, at all costs.

“The Council only cares about two things, you and power, and I'm pretty sure they're synonymous. That's the whole reason we're doing this, right?”

He hums “Let's get out of here.”

“Agreed.” One of the perks of being a Vampire is the freakish speed we get. In seconds, we're in the next town in front of Damien’s latest Bugatti something something. I may be a girl with questionable life choices, but I know my cars.

“Thought you liked to keep a low profile.”

“For this part of the plan, I need flashy”

The charity gala was the highlight of the night for societal elites, they got to flaunt their wealth ‘honourably’ and some fish in the ocean get to keep their short, miserable life. Everyone's happy, except for the starving citizens who can't even get within four square feet of the area without a security pass. The Vampire King, though, does not give a rat's ass what's happening as long as it doesn't affect his people. What he doesn't understand is that we need humans to survive.

“Here,” Damien hands me a small vial of shimmering pink potion. 

What does it say about me that I drank the potion first before asking what it does?

“Illusion. Makes you look like a snobby rich heiress. Work on your attitude." 

“Got it,” I say, facing him, and my mouth goes dry.

How in the dead gods' name does he make a three-piece crocodile skin suit look sinful?

“Got your fill?” His voice is smug, and his eyes flash yellow as he takes me in, lingering on my lips. Guess I'm not alone in the effects game.

“Never,” I whisper. And when I catch his brow raise, I give myself a whiplash with how fast I face forward.

“Let's get this over with, we have a king to kill.”

I still haven't prepared myself enough to face him, how am I going to kill him? The very thought of what he did to me riles me up but I tuck that feeling back into its box. One step at a time, Denise, one step at a time.

I felt sick to my stomach as I took in gaudy gold jewelry, fake plastered smiles and faces devoid of wrinkles. There's only so much I can take.

Soft romantic music fills the air, and couples get up with sickenly sweet smiles to slow dance, and I scoff. If I weren't so disgusted, I'd be jealous of their beating hearts.

“Damien Killgore!” A surprisingly subdued woman walks up to us. It's been a bit over fifteen minutes, and I already want to kill myself. My face hurts from all the fake smiling, and I can't even drink too much because I have to be sober. “Never would have thought I'd find you in one of these events." 

“Mathilda! It's good to see you,” Damiens says, his eyes deceptively soft. 

“I haven't seen you since you were little.” She continues, “I was so sorry to hear about your father." You'd think she truly didn't know that the king killed his father over some land dispute, took over their family house for his mistress and sent Damien and his mother packing.

“Yeah,” He grinds his teeth, ticked off, but he manages to bite out, “It was quite unfortunate.”

Wishing to be anywhere but there, I tuned out their conversation and surveyed the ballroom. The atmosphere was now playful and charged with the change in music. People were dancing the quartet, and drinking and having fun, but my eyes snagged on a man in the corner, trying to be inconspicuous, he was looking around like I was, like someone on a mission. I squeeze Damien’s arm.

“I’ve got to go, my partner wants to dance, don't you, dear?” He uses me as an excuse. Asshat!

“Of course, you understand, don't you, Mathilda?”

“Certainly,” She answers, a chill runs down my back from the cold look in her eyes and I'm immediately annoyed with myself. I'm a Vampire, dammit! I'm not scared of a little old lady.

“What did you see?” Damien asks me.

“Three o’clock”

He hums. After a few twirls, we approach the guy, seemingly to get some braised lamb from the buffet, but he sees us coming and must've gotten a vibe, so he ducks into the kitchen.

“Go ‘round and cut him off, I'll follow him.”

I turn right, walking as fast as I could in heels without making a scene and once outside, I ditch the heels and run through a dark littered alley, only the lights from windows stories above cast a little glow in the alley, I reach the back of the building, the place is dark but I have a good eye sight because of my vampire gene, just as I reach out, I feel someone.

Danger.

My instincts scream danger. And to get the hell out of there. But I couldn't see anyone. I unsheathe my silver dagger that kills werewolves and bring out the oak stake from the holster at my waist. Something hits me hard, but just before I black out, I hear someone say, “I told you my face would be the last you see.”

And I remember thinking, ‘I can't see you, idiot’

When I come to, my head is aching and my back is sore from the position I've been in. Meaning I've been out for a while. My hands are stiff behind the uncomfortable chair I'm sitting in, and I open my eyes to the dimly lit room. It's shoddy, water leaking from the ceiling and the telltale stench of piss registers in my head. I feel someone in the room. The same gut feeling of danger. The same person from before? 

I hear a groan, and I look to see Damien just waking up, “Denise?" He calls for me.

“I'm here." 

“Where are–" The person finally moves, and Damien must've sensed him too.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the Secret Rebellion, I start to shiver all over. I'd know that sinister voice anywhere. The one who stars in my nightmares every night since that night.

He walks into the light, and my body locks and freezes.

It's King Drake.