Loved

Chapter Eleven

The clock struck midnight as Kyle descended down the marble staircase, flanked by two dozen of his minions. It had been a long night, and it had done gone far better than he had ever dreamed. Still, he dreaded greeting his master, Rexius, their coven leader. They had been together for thousands of years, and he knew that Rexius was not a man who suffered fools lightly. He had zero tolerance for mistakes, and Kyle had felt nervous ever since he'd let that girl, Caitlin, escape his grasp. Rexius always punished even the smallest transgression, and Kyle had been bracing himself, wondering when his punishment would come. He knew that Rexius was just biding his time, that he would never forget.
Still, Kyle's work had gone so spectacularly tonight, in every corner of the city, that Kyle couldn't imagine how his master could remain upset with him. It should more than make up for such a small mistake. After all, they were in the midst of a historic moment in time, and Kyle was the general of this war. How could his master possibly punish him now?
Indeed, the more Kyle thought about it, the more he looked forward to this meeting. He looked forward to reporting the strength of the plague, how fast it was spreading, how well he and his men had distributed it. He looked forward to Rexius' approval, to his shared excitement that the war they had been waiting for for thousands of years was finally here.
As Kyle continued deep underground, deep under City Hall, down another marble corridor, and through a huge set of medieval doors, he felt intoxicated. He had been waiting for this day for years. He loved the feeling of the huge entourage behind him, of the war that was about to come. He hadn't felt this giddy since he'd witnessed the beheadings of the French Revolution.
As Kyle entered his master's chamber and walked through the set of double doors, several senior vampires stepped up behind him and blocked his entourage from following. They closed the door with a bang, leaving Kyle alone in the room. Kyle wasn't thrilled about this. But then again, when dealing with Rexius, you never had a choice. And you never knew what he would do next.
It was a huge, cavernous room, and as Kyle looked about, he was surprised to see hundreds of vampires lined up silently along the wall. Their numbers had already grown dramatically, and there were many vampires Kyle didn't recognize.
These vampires stood silently, at attention, along the sides of the room, practically out of sight. Only the leader dominated the room. Rexius. He sat in the center, as always, on his huge marble throne, and stared down at Kyle. That was the way the leader always wanted it.
Kyle step forward and bowed his head.
"My master," Kyle said.
A heavy silence blanketed the room.
Kyle looked up.
"You will be pleased to know, my master, that our work has gone beautifully. The plague has spread through every corner of the city. Within days, the humans will all be at their knees."
Several seconds of uncomfortable silence followed, as Kyle could feel his master glaring down at him. Those icy blue eyes - they always made his skin crawl.
Kyle finally looked down, bowing his head again. He couldn't stand looking up anymore.
"You have done well, Kyle," the leader said slowly, in a dark, deliberate, gravelly voice. "Other covens are already reporting in. Our numbers grow stronger as we speak."
"The war is going to be magnificent, master," Kyle said. "I am honored to lead it for you."
Several more seconds of silence followed.
"Indeed," Rexius finally said, "this war will be magnificent. Within days, New York will be ours, and within weeks, the human race will be enslaved."
Rexius broke into a smile, licking his lips ever so slightly. Kyle dreaded when he did that. A smile from Rexius only meant one thing: bad news.
"I am sorry to report," Rexius continued, "that you won't be here to share it with us."
Kyle felt a pain his chest, and looked up in fear. He didn't know what to say. Where would he be? Was he assigning him elsewhere?
"Not here?" Kyle asked, dumfounded. He could hear his own voice cracking, and felt ashamed. "My master, I am afraid I do not understand. I have already executed everything perfectly."
"I know you have. That is the only reason you are still breathing right now," he said.
Kyle swallowed hard.
"There remain your past mistakes to be accounted for. I never forget, Kyle."
Kyle swallowed again, and he felt his throat go dry. This was what he had been dreading.
"You let that half-breed escape. She may lead someone else to the sword. If so, our war will be compromised." He learned forward, so Kyle could see the full effect of his icy blue eyes. "Severely compromised."
Kyle knew better than to try to defend himself. That would only make matters worse. So instead, he just knelt there, waiting, trembling in rage, in fear. He had been tricked. He had waged their war perfectly, and now he would be punished for it.
Several seconds of silence followed, as Kyle wondered what his future would hold.
"Kyle of the Blacktide Coven, you have failed in your duties, and broken our holy covenant. I hereby sentence you to partial emergence in Ioric Acid, followed by banishment from our coven forever. You are no longer among us. You will live, but it will be a lonely life, and we will no longer recognize your name. You are an outcast. Forever."
Kyle's eyes opened wide in fear and astonishment, as dozens of minions suddenly appeared and grabbed his arms, dragging him away. It was too extreme, this punishment. It was unfair.
"But my master, you can't do this. I have been your greatest soldier - for centuries!"
Kyle struggled, as more and more arms grabbed him, dragging him backwards.
"I can find her!" he screamed, while being dragged. "I can bring her back! I and I alone! I know how to find her. You must give me this chance!"
"You have had too many chances already," the leader said, with an icy smile. "I will find her myself. I have other soldiers in my army."
It was the final thing Kyle heard as he was dragged out of the chamber, out through the double doors.
"My master!" Kyle started to scream, but before he could finish, the doors had slammed in his face.
Kyle felt the arms on him, all over him, and before he knew it, he was on his back, flat on a slab of stone.
More and more vampires pinned him down, hovering over him. It was a frenzy of vengeance. He thought of his thousands of years, of all the vendettas he had accumulated. He had stepped on a lot of toes to get where he was. Now it was time for payback.
One of them, sneering down at him, stepped forward with a bucket, and Kyle could smell the awful stench of the Ioric Acid before he even saw it.
"NO!" Kyle screamed. He had seen others suffer from it, and he could already guess the horrible pain that awaited.
As he looked up, the last thing he saw was the bucket tilting, then the liquid beginning to pour, right for his face.
And then the halls filled with the sound of his shrieking.