by Anne Malcom
His jaw ticked with the promise of a slight smile. “This is not a war that’s going to be fought in battlefields, Isla. Our world is not the same as it once was. Strength in numbers is not just in fighters. Alliances must be made.”
I inspected my nails. “Okay, if alliances must be made,” I mimicked his bland tenor to perfection. “Why did you bring me to the Sector in order to piss them off when I’m guessing your whole goal was to get them on our side? Kind of counterproductive if you ask me.” I shrugged. “Then again, I’m just a lowly member of the court, Your Highness’s servant, so what do I know?”
“The Sector loves control. They are the oldest organized, impartial order of our race,” Rick said, ignoring my blatant sarcasm. “Or so they like to believe. Impartial doesn’t exist in an immortal world, but we must play their game. They itch for control, for secrecy. Since the humans don’t know we exist, they’re that much easier to control.”
He glanced out the window at the throngs of ignorant humans going about their insignificant lives.
“The rebellion was of little consequence to them when they were only threatening the monarchy, battling inside the bounds of secrecy,” he continued. “Causing messes, yes, but ones that are explained away with common human occurrences such as war and famine.” He waved dismissively. “But engaging in technological warfare, using exposure as a weapon, it doesn’t line up with the Sector’s interests. And they want to be involved, but obviously they’re bound by their own rules. They can’t mount an outright attack, even if they have the weapons and numbers to do so. Not yet, anyway.”
I rolled my eyes at the bureaucratic bullshit. Reason number 181 why I couldn’t be a monarch: having to work with vampires like this instead of just killing them.
“If they made the rules, why don’t they just break them?” I asked. “It’s what I would do. In fact, it is what I do. On the reg.” I was currently considering my options about getting Sophie to help me break into the Sector and get this magical knife ourselves instead of waiting for the stuffy suits to hand it to us.
The corner of his mouth turned up, unaware of my thoughts. “Not everyone is like you, Isla.”
I sighed. “No one is like me. It’s why the world is so fucked up. If everyone was like me, it’d be so much more fucked up.”
“Yes, well, we’re going for less fucked up, as you call it,” Rick said dryly. “The Sector needs to support the monarchy in their fight against the rebels, but they will only do it when pushed. I come to them with orderly, competent battle plans, they feel I’m holding the control—rightly, of course.”
“Of course,” I muttered. Self-righteous git.
“But they will not afford me resources for that—the knife included—for a number of reasons, the simplest of which being spite.” He gave me a look. “I come in there with you, explain how you’re central to this entire situation, with evidence of prophecy too concrete to be dismissed, with the meeting with Ambrogio, and they listen. Because you are the opposite of order. Of control. Of sanity.”
I smiled. “Oh I take back what I said before. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He shook his head, mood beginning to improve as we pulled into the underground parking area in my building. I sure hoped he didn’t decide to come up and visit the human he pretended not to like. His mood would not improve then. In fact, he might just hand me over to the Sector. “They find themselves a task in you, Isla. You’re volatile, in their eyes—”
“In everyone’s,” I interrupted, hoping for the best when it came to the human. I’d had the worst with everything else, after all. “My own included.”
He nodded. “That may be so, but they will mistake volatility for incompetence,” he said as Jeeves pulled the car into the open space beside mine. In fact, there were many open spaces in the area reserved for the upper levels of the apartment building.
Usually it was filled with pretentious cars to match the owners I didn’t have to call neighbors since I now owned the whole top floor. Now there were barely any.
Rick didn’t notice me frowning, just continued to talk. “They are so attached to their structure and rules that they’ll underestimate you, and therefore underestimate me. Feel obligated, duty held to provide their resources, manpower, political standing to me.”
I regarded him, impressed, still half pondering the car situation. “You’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?”
He gave me a look. “I’m not pleased that my entire plan—nigh, my very crown seems to be resting on your decisions. Namely you not making one stupid enough to get you killed.”
I patted his knee. “Oh, I’m not overly pleased about it either, to be honest. But I’m sure we’ll have some fun along the way. Or we’ll all die.” I shrugged. “That’s the problem with volatility, I guess. It’s fatal.”
He glanced at Jeeves, who was opening the door, scowling at me as he did so. Our relationship had not improved with time.
“Not for us,” Rick said, climbing out of the car.
I scrambled to go with him.
“Where are you going?” I asked as he walked toward the elevators.
“Upstairs,” he returned, pressing the button.
“Why? I’m not in the mood for visitors, and Thorne’s naked and waiting for me,” I lied, knowing he was out at the slayer compound, as he’d told me by text when I’d written to him to let him know I’d survived the meeting.
Rick quirked his brow. “Well, I’ll trust you to go in first and make sure the coast is clear,” he said dryly. “I’m here to move the human.”
I stepped in front of the elevator doors as I watched the numbers lower. They would open soon, and he totally wasn’t getting in the elevator and discovering the human was gone.
“Move her where?” I demanded. “And I thought we’d established that your compound wouldn’t work, and that she didn’t want to move from this building. It’s my sparkling personality and hospitality.” The hospitality that hadn’t noticed she was missing until at least two days had passed.
Rick gritted his teeth as the door opened and I stayed barring the entrance. “She’s not moving from this building,” he clipped. “I bought the floor below you. She can have her pick of the apartments she likes. I’ll staff the rest with a protection detail.”
I gaped at him. “You bought the entire floor?”
He nodded, eyeing the open doors, my arm stopping them from closing.
“That’s fucking excessive,” I muttered. “And you’re not staffing your stupid vampire warriors in my building. I like to be the only warrior in here. And also, they’re lame,” I continued.
“It’s happening, Isla,” Rick snapped. “Now let me get in the fucking elevator.”
He let go of the last thread of his control. The only time he did so was in regard to the human. And he didn’t even know she was gone yet.
“You can’t,” I said, not moving.
He folded his arms. “I can. And I’m going to have to go back on my word to Thorne and make you move soon if you don’t stop with your nonsense,” he gritted out.
I tilted my head. “I thought you would’ve been happy to do anything to piss off your brother, since you hate him so much,” I observed, not moving.
“I don’t hate him,” Rick replied.
I quirked my brow. “Really? Could’ve fooled me. And I’m not easily fooled.” I paused. “Well, apart from the fact that you two were related and that my dead human husband wasn’t actually human. Or dead.”
My body chilled at the mention of Jonathan. The Jonathan who was still hiding behind a witch’s skirts, unable to be tracked by Sophie, only throwing small attacks at us—distracting us, no doubt.
“I don’t hate Thorne,” Rick said, choosing to ignore my other words. “He and I were designed to be in constant conflict. Designed by the gods themselves. It’s a hard instinct to fight, but I don’t hate him. We are… misunderstood.”
I regarded the king. He see
med almost pensive, regretful at the state of affairs between him and Thorne. But that couldn’t be the case.
“In any event, we’re on the same side of things,” he continued, voice icy and face blank once more. “So we’re holding off conflict until this mess is sorted out.”
“Well, look on the bright side. We might all die in this, and then you won’t have to go on Jerry Springer to resolve your issues,” I chirped.
Rick was quiet for a moment, then eyed the elevator doors once more. “This is not a conversation that needs to be had at this juncture,” he clipped. “Let me in the elevator, and I’ll get the human and be out of your hair.”
I stood my ground. “What if I don’t want to get the human out of my hair?” I quipped, grasping at straws. “Maybe she’s excellent at braiding it. Maybe I like having her around.”
Rick frowned. “You don’t like having anyone around.” He paused. “What’s going on, Isla?” he demanded.
Fuck.
I sighed, stepping away from the elevator. He didn’t rush in, but turned to face me. I bet Jeeves was loving this.
“Well, I might’ve, maybe, misplaced the human,” I muttered.
The silence that fell after my words was heavier than the entire building if it was to collapse on top of us.
“What?” he uttered, voice low and deadly.
“We’ve had a lot going on,” I said quickly. “You can’t expect me to always check on her, make sure she’s breathing.”
More silence.
“Look, humans go missing,” I said to his furious glare. “And humans I have to babysit? Yeah, it was bound to happen. You don’t really have the right to get all outraged. If you were so intent on the human staying in our care and perhaps staying alive, then maybe you should’ve taken her to your little compound.”
“She wouldn’t fucking go!” he roared, his façade all but shattering in front of my shocked face. “You saw how she was when I merely tried that.”
Yes, I did see her lose her motherfucking shit right at the start when we’d gotten back from Albania and Rick tried to get her to go with him.
She did not want to go.
She made that known by sinking her nails into the flesh of his cheek.
It was rather awesome, if there hadn’t been real and visceral trauma behind that little panic attack. It was so strong, it even touched me enough not to knock her out and hand her to Rick. It had touched me enough to keep her at my apartment.
“I did see that,” I said. “And you’re a man who doesn’t really care about hurting people in order to do what you consider to be helping,” I snapped. “Remember a little incident in your throne room where I almost died?” I offered helpfully.
“This is not the same,” he bit out.
I raised my brow. “Oh, I beg to differ. It is the cornerstone of your ethos, to get what you want, to use force and not really care about those involved to do so. You wanted the human. If it wasn’t obvious before, you’ve all but painted it on your forehead. Therefore, you could’ve just taken her to your castle against her will, then got the whole Stockholm syndrome thing underway. The point is, you didn’t. Either you didn’t want her bad enough, or you were considering her feelings in your decisions. Both of which are bad. The latter is a worse one. You start considering feelings of others in your decisions, it tends to get messy. You don’t do messy, Your Highness.”
He clenched his jaw.
“But it’s too late now. She’s gone,” I continued. “Probably dead, as that’s what humans do. She’s not your problem, in any case.”
I failed to mention that I’d set her up with an emergency credit card, showed her how to use it, explained how to use it to buy shoes and watch porn, and then let her at it.
The card had been missing when the human disappeared. I hadn’t tracked it yet, but I would. And if it seemed like she was using it, I would not be going running to the king and letting him smash his fist through whatever feeble independence she was able to grasp after being a prisoner to some serious bitches.
She wanted to be found, she’d make herself found. Otherwise, chicks before dicks.
I put my hands on my hips. “Look, dude, she left for a reason,” I said, noting how close Rick was to shaking me or punching me in the face. It would be interesting how well he held onto that urge. “Obviously we don’t know the reason, since she didn’t tell us, and also she hasn’t fucking said a word to us since we met her,” I continued. “For now, we can’t change the past, so how about we focus on the future, and that is killing Ambrogio, capturing Jonathan, torturing him for millennia, ending the rebellion and maybe having a lot of sex if Sophie gets her shit together.” I stared at Rick. “Not with you, of course. But with your brother, who you don’t hate.”
“You need to get the witch to track the human,” Rick gritted out.
“I don’t need to do anything you ask me,” I snapped. “I’m kind of smack-dab in the middle of your last favor. And I’m still gonna have to kill the origin of our race for you, so how about you take it upon yourself to chase after the human who has absolutely nothing to do with anything?”
And then I turned on my heel, half expecting him to yank me back to yell at me more, or punch me.
He did neither.
He was still standing, frozen in place as the elevator doors closed in front of him.
Yep, the king was fucked.
Weren’t we all?
Chapter 8
Thorne had told me to meet him out in Slayerville after the meeting at the Sector, obviously to get the lowdown.
I would give him all the details, apart from the important bits. I definitely wasn’t about to tell him about the knife I was going to get to kill Ambrogio. He’d say I was too weak, demand he come. And I was not letting him come. Because he’d try to fight my battle, and he’d be no match. I knew this with the same certainty that I knew Crocs were never okay, no matter what the situation.
I’d tell him after.
He’d be mad. But he’d be alive.
When I’d gotten there, I’d received a call from Scott, one that changed my direction from Thorne’s house to run a little errand.
An extermination.
“I am part of Thorne’s faction,” Stacy hissed, folding her arms and glaring at me. I saw right through her little act and noted the fear in her eyes. Thank Hades. I wasn’t losing my touch. “Therefore, you cannot hurt me, unless you want to start a civil war within his faction. Cause unfathomable trouble for him.” She glared at me.
I had crossed the distance between us and punched her in the face before she could even blink her horrible eyelash extensions. I was back in my original spot with folded arms and a quirked brow before she even realized I’d broken her nose.
Blood poured from between her fingertips as she tried to staunch the flow.
I grinned. “See, I already cause unfathomable trouble for Thorne,” I told her conversationally. “He gets that. Loves me because of it.” I tilted my head. “Or maybe in spite of it. Whichever one it is, I’m not going to stop causing trouble for a mere man. Even if that man is the reason for my continued troublesome existence.”
She glared at me through the blood. “They will call for your head for this.” Her voice was gurgled.
“I sure do hope so,” I chirped. “Not enough people are doing it this past week, and it’s been getting boring.”
“Are you certifiably insane?” she hissed, her eyes flaring in fear while I stalked a circle around her.
I showed fang. “I sure hope so. No sane person would do this.” Then I darted forward again, but I didn’t break her nose that time.
I broke her neck.
I gazed down at the corpse in disapproval. “You shouldn’t have fucked with the kid, bitch,” I said. “Because if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been pissed off enough to do some digging.” I tilted my head. “I’d likely have killed you eventually for wearing that hairstyle alone, but now I’ve got a good reason.” I paused. “No, the h
airstyle was the better reason, but now I’ve got an excuse that will fly with Thorne.”
My phone buzzed and I glanced down at the caller ID before answering. “Hey, whore,” I greeted.
“Bloodsucker,” Sophie returned. “Where are you? I’m at your apartment, and neither you nor my favorite whisky is in residence. I don’t know what I’m more upset about.”
I crunched away from the body, frowning at the dirt on my boots. These were new. “Well, freeloaders have been coming into my house and drinking all my booze,” I snapped, “so I had to take steps to keep myself firmly off the wagon.” Those steps were hiding all the good booze, but I wouldn’t put it past Sophie to do a spell to find it. She had a serious problem.
“I found tequila, so I’m right there with you,” she replied, grin in her voice. “So, where are you? I’ve got a present.”
I perked up at the mention of a present. “Oh goody, I’ll be there soon. I just had to kill someone,” I said happily, glancing backward, wondering if the spot in the woods I’d dragged her to was remote enough in order to leave her there.
“Anyone I hate?” Sophie asked, slightly bored.
“No, but one of Thorne’s merry band of slayers, so I’m sure I’ll get some kind of blowback from that,” I replied, pausing as I sensed movements and a pounding heartbeat tearing through the trees.
I’d made an effort to drag the bitch into the depths of the forest surrounding the compound so I could have a little bit of privacy. And so no one could decide to stop me.
“Got to go,” I said quickly, recognizing the heartbeat entering the clearing, and the silver eyes fastened on me. “Don’t leave,” I hissed. “Or do, but don’t you dare take my present with you.”
“Can’t promise I’ll be sober when you get here,” Sophie replied.