by Tricia Barr
Thankfully, her influence seemed to be attached to her will, because Kol and the other dragon-shifter remained unaffected. She didn’t want to siren them unless absolutely necessary.
The girl huddled in the corner of the cage, but when she spied Myreen, her eyes went wide and she nudged Kol, who lay next to her on the floor like the cold robot he always pretended to be.
Myreen worried for a moment that Kol was dead, but he sat up—with help from the girl, thanks to his two broken arms—and took on the same worried expression. “Myreen! What are you doing here?” he hissed, warily eying the guards. But they didn’t even acknowledge Kol or Myreen.
“It’s okay. I just wanted to talk.” Myreen had the urge to go to him, to try to heal his wounds. But there wasn’t enough light down here, and her gaze wandered to the girl sharing Kol’s cage, triggering an uncomfortable tightness in Myreen’s stomach.
Kol looked baffled. “About what? If you can move freely—”
“I’m not a prisoner, but I’m not exactly free to leave, either. And there are... complications.”
“What complications? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” Kol lowered his gaze, and the girl with him put a hand on his shoulder.
Even as dirty and frightened as the other dragon was, she was beautiful. It almost didn’t surprise Myreen that Kol would be with her. She looked to be everything Myreen wasn’t. And she was a dragon—a great one too, if her brief glimpse during the attack was accurate.
Myreen addressed the blond. “What’s your name?”
“Char.”
Myreen took a deep breath, then turned, her mind whirling. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I just needed to make sure...” Make sure what? Myreen didn’t even know anymore. And she worried that the guards would find her any moment now. She fingered the necklace, grateful the ursa in her wasn’t in control.
“Myreen, wait.” Kol’s voice cracked, freezing Myreen to where she stood.
“What?” Myreen didn’t like the hard tone in her voice, but if it weren’t for that, she’d probably sound pathetic.
“Promise me you’ll get out of here.”
“No.” She whirled back on Kol, venom seeping into her voice. “I don’t have to do anything you say. You’re. Not. My. Boyfriend.”
Kol looked visibly stricken. “I know. I just... Please. If you died...”
Char looked at Myreen with pleading eyes, chewing on her lip as her hand tightened on Kol’s shoulder.
“I’m Draven’s daughter. He wouldn’t kill me. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Kenzie’s working on a way to get you two out of here.”
Kol’s mouth puckered like he was sucking on a lemon. “I’m not sure her magic will be enough.”
Myreen rolled her eyes. “Enough or not, she’s the best shot you’ve got right now.”
Kol sighed.
“It’ll be okay,” Char said, though she looked as unsure as Kol.
“And I’ll see what I can do,” Myreen added, tugging again at her necklace.
“No. Just let Kenzie work her magic,” Kol said. There was a thread of panic in those steely eyes of his, and Myreen nearly relented. But Char was still there, still comforting Kol.
“Goodbye.” Myreen left in a huff. She wasn’t sure who she was angry at—Char for being there for Kol, Kol for letting her, or herself for letting her heart lead her into a world of pain. Again.
Myreen fled from the dungeon, back to the safety of the rest of the citadel, and headed toward the kitchen. The guards could find her there, stuffing her face and feelings with chocolate or ice cream or something—anything—sweet.
Chapter 19: Kenzie
Kenzie sat in one of the Initiate common rooms, staring at her thumbs. They spun in circles around each other, accomplishing nothing even while staying perpetually in motion.
Right about now, she hated herself. What was wrong with Kol? He was right there, with Myreen. If he’d been quicker, she wouldn’t have been able to use her magic on him, trapping him there. Now he was stuck down in those dungeons with his dragon friend—she knew the girl couldn’t be anything more, not to Kol—rotting away. All because of her.
She’d used a fairly simple binding spell, just one of the ones she’d ended up memorizing for fun and a little added protection. It didn’t make sense, guarding herself against vampires but not shifters. And so she’d armed herself. Sure, the shifters were supposed to be the good guys, but so was she.
Except now she wasn’t.
Playing the villain sounded like fun, but when it hurt her friends—or her best friend’s... well, whatever he was—it sucked. Her stomach had tied itself in knots, and she’d barely touched any food since. This whole ordeal sickened her.
And Myreen was Draven’s daughter. Talk about complicated. Kenzie had no idea how she was going to convince Myreen to give up her “happy little family.” And she had serious doubts about this Ty kid. Would Draven be so cruel as to use someone so young to manipulate Myreen? It certainly seemed possible.
Not to mention she was now questioning the spell she’d done with Mom and Gram to lift Kol’s family curse. She’d been so certain. She’d felt the magic flowing from her, the warmth as the blood seeped into Kol’s skin. But Myreen hated him. Kenzie nearly spilled the story when Myreen confronted her, but her promise to Kol rang through her mind—that she wouldn’t tell Myreen until the curse was broken. The silence was killing her. She wanted to scream at something, but she had to keep her cool. She’d sort through this mess, one way or another. Maybe.
“Kenzie!” came a familiar voice, and Kenzie looked up, her eyes wide. Adam ambled over, sitting next to her and snaking an arm across the couch behind her.
Kenzie wasn’t sure whether to throw herself at him or flee, anger at what he’d done warring with the attraction she still felt toward him. Instead, she sat still, waiting to see what he’d do next.
“Ha! A selkie. You know, just seeing you and hearing what you are has brought back a lot of memories. Memories I seemed to have forgotten. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Kenzie bit her lower lip, staring at her thumbs again, which had resumed their pacing, kicking up the speed a notch.
“But you’re cute. And if you pass Draven’s test, then I’m willing to forgive all that.” He put his lips next to her ear and whispered, “We had so much fun together.”
Kenzie broke out in goosebumps, and she pulled her arms over her stomach. “Test? I thought I’d already passed Draven’s test.”
“That was before he made the connection between you and Leif.”
Kenzie blinked several times, then tilted her head to look at Adam. His guy-lined eyes twinkled, and a jagged clump of hair fell in front of his face, begging to be pushed back. Kenzie’s breath hitched as Adam brought his face closer to hers. “I’ve proven myself to be very useful to Draven, and I’m due for a promotion. If I’m lucky enough to earn an Initiate, I want you.”
Kenzie’s heart beat an erratic tune, longing and repulsion warring within her. There was something almost animalistic about Adam in the way he looked at her, and Kenzie couldn’t deny the chemistry between them was strong. But he was a vampire wannabe.
And he’s no Wes.
Kenzie shook her head at the errant thought. She needed to put Wes out of her mind.
“I’m flattered you’d think of me,” Kenzie said, looking up at Adam through her lashes, her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. She didn’t want Adam, not really, but his position with the vampires might prove a useful resource. Kenzie prayed to the fates that she wouldn’t end up in over her head, but she was going to do her best to keep on his good side. If he had one.
“Good. Now go show Draven what a gem you are.”
Kenzie nodded and stood, wincing as Adam gave her a tap on her rear. She hated that her attraction to him was still so strong, especially after everything he’d done. But if it played in her favor, she’d use it. She didn’t feel like she had much choice.
Not with so much at stake.
***
Kenzie made her way back to the lobby—up another flight of steps, which it seemed there was no end of—and to the room that everyone called Draven’s trophy room. She knocked tentatively on the door, and when she was told to enter, she did.
The trophy room was more like a horror showcase. Bits and pieces of different shifters lined the room—stingers, wings, tails, fins—each piece well-preserved, many bearing the lacquered gloss of taxidermy specimens. Kenzie’s stomach turned as she stared at the mountings with a slack jaw, envisioning the shifters they’d belonged to—shifters like Myreen and Juliet and Kol.
“Ah, the selkie of the hour. Come in, come in.” Draven beckoned Kenzie to the seat in front of his desk, and she sat down, giving him as genuine of a smile as she could muster. If she just stared at his face—his flawless, incredibly drool-worthy face—maybe she could forget he was a soulless monster. Maybe.
“So it comes to my attention that you were aiding Leif in his exploits in Chicago. Adam seems to think you were Leif’s main food source, but I know how repulsed Leif is by taking blood straight from humans.”
Kenzie’s face paled, and she looked at her lap, biting on her tongue and breathing hard through her nose. She’d come a long way with the whole blood-phobia, but even the mention of it still made her twitchy. She adjusted in her seat.
“Nervous?” Draven asked, coming to the front of the desk and leaning on it.
Kenzie shook her head. “No, I have hemophobia.”
“A fear of—”
“Yes,” Kenzie said, then clamped a hand over her mouth. She’d seen the way the other Initiates treated Draven, and she didn’t want to make a bad impression by not following protocol. “Sorry.”
Draven chuckled. “It’s okay. I prefer to know these kinds of things about the people in my employ. It also continues to beg the question: why turn to vampires?”
“I told you. I hate the shifters.”
“Because they wouldn’t let you in their school?”
Kenzie shrugged. “What can I say? I can be petty.”
Draven chuckled. “Not with me, I hope.”
Kenzie smiled. “Of course not. I know when I can cross the lines and when I can’t.”
“Smart girl. And you’ve chosen wisely. Soon the vampires will rule the world, as nature intended.”
Kenzie nodded numbly, wondering if it had anything to do with his plan to create hybrids with Myreen’s blood.
“You don’t agree?”
“I’m sorry?” Kenzie didn’t think he’d asked her a question, but she worried her mind had wandered off.
“That vampires should rule the world. You were rather chatty until I brought that up.”
Kenzie snorted. “I don’t care who rules the world, so much, as long as I get to use my magic in peace.”
Draven nodded. “Then our purposes should align nicely.” He pushed off the desk and began walking around the room, admiring the pieces he’d placed there. “So what exactly did you do with Leif?”
Kenzie wrinkled her nose. That was one question she wasn’t prepared for. Should she tell him the truth? “He was using me for my magic.” She hoped her poker face held. If Leif was being tortured, then he obviously wasn’t on the nice list. She didn’t want to appear to be an ally of Draven’s enemy.
Draven snapped his fingers and turned to her. “His selkie love. Of course. I should’ve seen that one coming. He’s never quite been able to let go of the past.” He peered at Kenzie. “Yes. And you must be a relation, if you have the daywalker spell. MacLugh. Am I right?”
Kenzie bit her lower lip.
“Don’t play coy with me. There are no secrets here, Kenzie MacLugh. You were on my radar long before you decided to come. The question is, will you last?”
Kenzie met his steely gaze. “Of course. I don’t do things by halves.”
“Good. Then you won’t have any issue stripping Leif of his daywalking abilities.” Kenzie’s eyes widened. “He has a gift, one that he’s refused to use to its full potential. And while I’m eager to possess such power, I need to know you can be trusted first.”
Kenzie nodded. “Of course. My grimoire has a spell for nearly everything.” She hoped. Well, sort of. It didn’t seem right, taking away Leif’s daywalking ability, especially as it was one of the few remaining things Leif had from Gemma.
“Such a good little selkie. I wonder if your mother and grandmother would agree?”
Kenzie adjusted in her seat again, leaning an elbow on the armrest and her cheek on her fist. Somehow she was managing to keep her heartbeat steady. All these years of pretending to be bored had finally paid off. Hopefully. “They do their thing, I do mine.”
Draven laughed.
“Are we doing this thing now, or do I have time to prepare?”
“Do you need time to prepare?”
Kenzie shrugged.
“You don’t know, or you don’t care?”
Kenzie smirked. “A little of both. There’s not a counter-spell in the grimoire. I’ll have to improvise based on what I do have. Enacting the daywalker spell is pretty complicated, but deactivating shouldn’t be nearly as hard. I think.”
“And why is that, exactly?”
Kenzie shrugged again. “I guess because selkie magic is a funny thing. But if you really think about it, a vampire walking in daylight kinda goes against the rules. It’s like putting in a cheat code. It’s going to take more work to set that up than it would to reset it to the way it’s supposed to be.” Not exactly true. Selkies did a lot of magic that went against nature. Like trying to bring a person back from the dead. But Draven didn’t need to know that. As it was, she hoped her knowledge of the spell would allow her to take away Leif’s daywalking ability, but only temporarily. Assuming neither of them caught on fire in the process. Spell manipulation wasn’t exactly safe magic.
Draven nodded. “Well then, let’s test this theory of yours out and see if we can’t make a daywalking vampire just a vampire again.”
Kenzie nodded and stood. She tried to think of it as anything but what it was. Anything at all. But she kept envisioning Leif’s face as he realized what a monster Kenzie had become.
She followed Draven to the lobby.
Thank the fates this place had an elevator. Her first time to the top of the citadel was on the back of Beatrice, the world a blur as the vampire raced up what seemed like millions of steps. Kenzie hadn’t noticed the elevator then, and she’d been too distracted by her role in capturing Kol to really pay attention to the way they got back down.
But an elevator was the last thing she’d expect in a place like this. If she had to guess, the citadel had been around for a very long time. It had the ancient, unchanging quality of Leif, though the school was decidedly darker and more disturbing.
Draven reached the elevator first and slid his keycard through the waiting slot. The silvery door sprang open as if it had been waiting for them. Kenzie took a spot in the corner, leaning against the railing. Her heart was already racing, so it didn’t much matter when the door closed and she realized she was alone with the most dangerous vampire in the world. She was betting on him not wanting to kill her, but that didn’t stop her from worrying that no one could hear her scream if he changed his mind.
And the elevator seemed to take forever. Even Draven started tapping his foot. No doubt with his speed, he could’ve taken the stairs and beat her to the top. But Kenzie was grateful she didn’t have to walk those stairs—or ride Draven’s back.
“And you don’t need your grimoire for this?” Draven asked as a chime sounded and the doors slid open.
Kenzie followed him off the elevator and to one of the large round stairwells—of course there were more stairs, this place was riddled with them—and began the ascent into what she assumed was one of the towers crowning this place. Some of the stairwells had been blocked off by yellow caution tape.
She’d heard three towers were destroyed, the
walls stripped away like magic, making them unlivable for vampires. And there had been some additional damaged, though she had no idea what happened there. Why a vampire castle would have a glass window seemed odd, and why the shifters would break through the glass as well as strip away walls was beyond her.
She still couldn’t believe Kol had been so stupid. But she’d get them out. What was rescuing one more person, right? Or two. The dragon he’d brought with him probably didn’t want to stay here, either.
At last they reached a room, and Draven knocked before stepping inside. Kenzie entered, marveling at the silver and purple decorating the space. It was so different from the rest of the citadel, almost soft in its feminine beauty, though with a hint of the hard edge that every vampire seemed to carry.
“Draven, I’m honored,” said Beatrice, the woman Kenzie had once thought an angel. Her features were just as beautiful as the last time, though this time Kenzie wasn’t fogged by the haze of venom.
Kenzie wanted to say she saw the cruel glint in Beatrice’s eyes, but it was the pitiful form of Leif lounging on a couch that really drove that point home. His hands were bound in front of him, caught between shining steel cuffs, his head lolled back. He looked exhausted—quite the feat for a vampire—his eyes sunken in, a haunted look to them.
And the haunted look only grew worse when he noticed Kenzie.
“Gemma?” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Kenzie’s breath hitched. If only she were Gemma. The woman he loved was practically a legend. She’d figured out how to make Leif a daywalker. She’d have known what to do. She could’ve pulled a perfect spell from the grimoire to fix all of this.
Kenzie was no Gemma.
Kenzie shook her head, but as Beatrice shot narrowed eyes at Kenzie, the dangerously beautiful woman suddenly smiled.
“Perfect. Yes, Gemma. I hear you have a spell you’d like to show Leif.”
Kenzie paled. “You want me to pretend to be—?”