YEAR OF THE VAMPIRE 30

Chapter 30

Music from: Ride of the Valkyries

All eyes went to Dred.

Maeve scowled. "You're working together? Moon twins?"

Dred slowly got this his feet. "What?"

"What are Moon twins?" Ivy fidgeted, working her hand under her blossoming skirt to her knee.

"Not him, you idiot," Vohn said to Maeve. He turned to Dred. "Come on, brother. Let's settle this, if you think you can."

Ivy's fingers slipped to her thigh. "You're brothers?"

"No way!" Dred shouted, wobbling on his feet.

"Moon twins; same father, different mothers," Maeve said, backing a step as the smoke grew thicker from the mirror. "I've never seen it . . ."

"Stronger than other Vampire years. Born on a full moon at the same time," Vohn said, looking at them all as they stepped closer. "And she's perfect. I can convince you all in the year." He grabbed Ivy's arm where the ruffle fit around her shoulders. "We keep her, among us, and within the year, you will all beg me to lead us into a new age of vampires!"

"I hate that we share the same dad," Dred said, gripping his sword in one hand, the other holding his stomach as he stared hard at Vohn. "But I am not like you."

"Because you haven't spent time in Neverfall?" Vohn laughed cuttingly. "If we could find a nun around here, you'd have bitten her, believe me. This," he said, pulling Ivy's arm to a painful height, "is just as good."

A harsh smoke blew from the mirror, thick and dense, like ash.

Ivy looked at it, eyes burning from the soot.

"What have you done, Vosporos?" Mandrake demanded. "Drop Ivy, now!"

Vohn stayed his ground, but then stepped back as Rimbladt approached.

"Kneel!" a voice boomed from the smoke.

Everyone in the room flinched as a tall, cloaked figure stepped from the smoke, from the mirror. Only Ivy remained too shocked to move.

The figure stood seven feet tall, his black cloak dusted with ash, his gaunt face tight with age and ages of hiding. His black hair was pulled back, forming a sharp V at his brow. His eyes glowed yellow, pinned on Ivy.

"Well done, my son," he said, well-developed fangs jutting from his lips.

"Uncle Mortifal," Dred said, turning to Vohn. "Son? That's not Dad. Not my dad. So you're not my brother!"

"Shut up," Vohn said curtly. "My father is Mortimund Mottknight, just as yours. Uncle Mortifal Mottknight is our uncle, you moron."

Mortifal stepped closer to Ivy, the heat from his boots nearly singing the dress at her knees. "This is the girl."