by Tricia Barr
“No,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing her skin with his thumbs. “This is where I’m meant to be, and so are you. Stay with me. Forget about the dragon who doesn’t see how amazing you are. Forget about the people at the Dome who shunned you. Forget about whatever allegiances you feel obligated to keep with people who never appreciated you. And just... stay. I know you’ll understand that I can’t let you leave.”
She sighed. “And I can’t let you ruin my plans. I’m sorry, Kendall.” Then she broadened her throat and, in her musical siren song, said, “You never saw me tonight. We never had this conversation. You are now very tired and need to go to your room.”
Kendall yawned loudly, turned around and walked away, disappearing down the hall. She could’ve done to him what she did to Ty. She could’ve forced him to come with her. But she hated doing that to Ty as it was. No one should be forced to do anything against their will. Kendall was old enough to make his own choices, and he chose to stay with Draven.
She wondered how things might have been different if he hadn’t made that choice. They might have grown closer as Kol played ping pong with her heart. She might have chosen him over Kol eventually. Kendall wasn’t a bad guy. He was just misguided. So much for his visions of being with her. She felt sorry for him.
There was one more stop on her agenda before returning to Ty’s room. Ever since Leif had mentioned Draven’s trophy room, she was curious. She suspected his office was the trophy room, though he never called it that—at least, not in her presence. She had to see whatever it was he was trying to hide from her. She couldn’t leave here without knowing.
Myreen peeked out the entrance of the Initiate quarters into the Grand Hall. There were always a few vampires loitering about, but she saw no one of consequence who would care that she was here.
She crossed the Grand Hall as inconspicuously as she could, then hovered in front of the door to Draven’s office. Draven always made his rounds with his new recruits in the evenings, so she knew his office would be empty right now, but for how long, she couldn’t be sure. She had to move quickly.
She tried the handle, but of course it was locked. She doubted her keycard would work, and she didn’t want to leave behind any kind of technological trace, if that was even how it worked. There had to be another way to get into that room that wouldn’t leave evidence.
Draven had taught her that ursas could move objects with their minds. She’d only tried it that one time he’d forced her to shift, but maybe she could access her telekinesis in human form to unlatch a simple lock.
She was already here; she might as well try.
She reached for the necklace around her neck and caressed the center turquoise stone as she stared at the doorknob and focused. She envisioned the bolt clearly in her mind, imagined it sliding out of its socket, felt her will pushing on the smooth little metal piece.
And then a small click sounded within the door.
She grabbed the knob and turned, and... it opened. She was thrilled at her success for an instant.
Until she saw what was on the other side of the door.
All four walls were adorned with plaques and racks of various, well-preserved shifter body parts. A pair of harpy wings, a naga tail, dragon claws. This was worse than she could’ve ever imagined!
Draven was diabolical. These were pieces of actual people, and Draven had stuffed them and lacquered them like they were kills from hunts. She could practically see the ghost of the person still attached to every appendage. A sweet young harpy girl, hanging dead from her racked wings. The dragon claws conjured images of Kol’s face. Is this what Draven planned to do with him when he was done torturing him?
Her heart swelled with sorrow, slitting in a million places and seeping blood for the pain these poor creatures must have suffered. What kind of monster could not only do something so horrible, but then enjoy sitting amongst these reminders of those acts every day? It was beyond deplorable.
She’d seen enough. She closed the door and made for the kitchen.
But the sound of Draven’s voice around the corner made her alarm bells go off, and she darted to one of the couches, grabbing a magazine from the coffee table and shoving it in front of her face, hoping against hope that he didn’t discover she was there. If he found her roaming about without her guards again, she didn’t know what he would do, and she didn’t want to find out.
“Begin working on this right away,” Draven said to someone behind her.
“Yes sir.” She recognized Adam’s voice. “I’m surprised she gave it to you so quickly. I really thought it would’ve taken her more time to come around to our way of thinking.”
Draven sighed. “In fact, she did not give it willingly. Despite all the goodwill I’ve showered upon her, she remains loyal to the shifters. She’s very strong-willed, just like her mother. She needs to be broken, but that will take time—too much time. I took it from her this afternoon after she confessed to visiting the Dracul boy without my consent. She doesn’t even know I did it. How long until you can create a serum from her blood?”
“Give my team a day. Maybe two. But you’ll have it, I promise. And you’ll be the world’s first hybrid.”
“I made the right choice turning you, Adam. You’re invaluable to our cause.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Draven’s door closed and Adam swaggered away like a dog who’d just been given a bone for being a good boy.
Myreen sat on the couch, wide eyes staring unseeing at the well-dressed celebrities on the pages in front of her, the feeling of violation sinking into every inch of her skin like muck into a sponge.
Draven took her blood. Without asking her or warning her. He’d done it without her even knowing. But how? And when? She didn’t even feel... the bug bite. She looked at the dot on her upper arm. Now that she knew better, she saw it for what it was. There was no puffy mound or irritated pink skin, just a small, red puncture, the exact size of a needle tip.
Her stomach twisted with disgust and fury and panic. Draven had the one thing he wanted most: her blood. And once Adam converted it into a serum, Draven would become a hybrid. He wouldn’t need her anymore.
The escape had to go perfectly tomorrow. If it didn’t—and maybe even if they did—they were all doomed.
Chapter 35: Juliet
For the first time since Myreen left, Juliet finally slept through the night.
It was as if the moment she connected her fire with her ice, something clicked, like a final puzzle piece pressing into place. The balance she felt was a wonderful change.
Still, the lingering guilt over everything stopped her from truly embracing this new feeling.
How could she be happy when the Dome was falling to pieces? How could she walk around with a smile on her face when Myreen was gone? When Kol was imprisoned? When she hadn’t heard from Kenzie for what felt like ages? Each time contentment tried to settle, her stomach would twist as her reality came back into focus.
She needed a distraction.
She decided to attend her classes today—all of them. Even though no fun ones remained. She desperately missed music and art.
But what she looked forward to most was her one-on-one time with her dad. It was the only time that she could really explore her new gifts.
Malachai lied to Dracul when he requested that their sessions be restored. They were supposed to be working on defense and tactics, only. But not once since they started up again had they trained for that. Juliet always broke a sweat, but not from physical exertion.
Juliet kept her head down as she made her way to her dad’s office. Even with her headphones on, she could still hear the soldier’s yells. They tried so hard to make the students synchronized, and they didn't care how they sounded doing it. She made sure to be in sync with everyone else so she didn’t draw any unwanted attention. It was easy for her to fall into step with the other students, because it was like a dance. Especially with her music blaring through her hea
dphones.
“Remove the device. I don't want to see it out in these halls again.” The nasty guard—the one who seemed intent on getting her in trouble—looked down at her as he pulled her from the group.
“You mean my headphones?” She snickered, but knew as soon as she did that she would regret it.
“Excuse me?” He initiated an intense stare-off—one she wouldn’t be trying to win.
Juliet cleared her throat as she stuffed her headphones in her bag. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.” She saluted him with precise movement. On the outside it looked like she was calm and collected, but on the inside, she was a mess. She wanted nothing more than to show him just how good she was at defense. The thought of a few bruises on his face brought calmness to her mind.
If only I could act on it.
The soldier gave her a wary look, but returned the salute. She turned away and finished walking to her dad’s. The soldier followed her, though. She could hear the clacking of his heavy boots hitting the floor behind her. It was as if he wanted her to know he was there—that really worried her.
When she finally made it to her dad’s door, she entered as quickly as she could, not daring to look back.
“Is everything okay?” Malachai asked, concern lining his eyes.
“Yeah. That guard that keeps taking my name down just made me take my headphones off.” She tried to downplay it with a casual tone. “I didn't entertain him by overreacting, so I think it upset him ‘cause he followed me here.” It probably wasn’t something to stress over. If it were serious, he would’ve entered behind her.
Still, Malachai warily looked toward the door. “We should still be careful.”
“You know, it’s not fair. You helped General Dracul kick the last director out, but his little lackey won’t even give me a break,” she said, her frustration beginning to spill out.
“Juliet Quinn, lower your voice,” Malachai said, his words coming out barely above a whisper. “Lord Dracul only cares about keeping the shifters safe, not keeping scores or diverting high school drama. I highly recommend you stop thinking that if you get caught he’ll go easy on you.”
Juliet opened her mouth to tell her dad she didn’t think the general would go easy on her, but a knock sounded at the door.
Malachai gently pushed Juliet behind him. Her heart stammered as she hooked onto her dad’s arm. It was sad that this was their reaction to a visitor. What had the general done?
“Who is it?” her dad’s deep and authoritative voice rumbled.
“Open the door, under the general’s orders. I’m here to escort Ms. Quinn to his office.”
Malachai spun, gently grabbing Juliet’s shoulders.
“Deny anything and everything he accuses you of,” he quietly urged. “Show no fear but don’t fight back. And whatever you do, promise me you’ll keep your fire and ice inside.”
He shook her when she didn’t respond, staring at him with wide and fearful eyes. “I promise,” she whispered.
“Come find me as soon as you step foot out of there.”
Another thunderous knock echoed throughout the room.
Her dad pulled her in for a hug, then straightened his back and walked to the door. As soon as he opened it, Juliet recognized the soldier. He was the one who had followed her. The one who had it in for her. And his beady eyes were focused on Juliet, carrying a bright glee despite his stoic expression. What is this guy’s problem?
The soldier took one step toward her, but Malachai blocked his way.
“Major Peters, if even one hair on her head is out of place when her meeting is over, it’ll be me that you’ll have to deal with.” He stepped aside, his hands behind his back, his head raised.
Major Peters narrowed his eyes, then circled Juliet until he stood behind her. “This doesn't look like a defense training session,” came the major’s sour voice.
“I don't have to explain myself to anyone, least of all, you,” Malachai said, his hands balling into fists.
“Actually, you do.” Major Peters’ cocky tone made Juliet want to hit something. “But that will be a conversation for a later time.”
“Then get on with it or get out.”
Juliet hadn't seen Malachai this enraged. Ever. She knew he was trying to stay calm for both their sakes. She certainly hadn’t inherited her dad’s self-control.
“Miss Quinn, General Dracul would like to speak with you in his office. Follow me or face the consequences.”
He almost made it sound like she had a choice in the matter.
Juliet didn't think she could hold back her temper if they pushed her, but she would do her best. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll go.”
Major Peters gave her the side-eye, then marched out of the room.
She quickly followed him, purposely leaving her bag in her dad’s office so she’d have an excuse to go back. And she stayed close on his heels, knowing he was probably looking for any and every reason to snitch on her.
“So, what does he want to talk to me about?” She didn't like the major, and she didn't care for small talk, but the silence and their destination was working up her nerves. Besides, she didn't like to be surprised. Especially by someone like Lord Dracul.
“You’re about to find out.” Major Peters sounded amused. He probably enjoyed seeing her shake in her boots.
They approached the door that used to be Oberon's, and Juliet took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm, focused, and as balanced as possible. She didn't need her uncontrollable fire to make an impromptu appearance—or her ice. Especially not in front of the general.
The major knocked on the door in a special pattern, then entered. Juliet thought of her dad and how he would assess the situation if he were in her shoes. A push of courage followed. She straightened her back and held her head high as the major announced her name.
Oberon’s old office, once filled with the feeling of safety and comfort, seemed a completely different place. Lord Dracul’s cold displeasure was everywhere, from the furniture to the décor, even emanating from the floor and walls.
Juliet stood in front of the desk and bravely kept her eyes trained on the new director.
“Please, take a seat,” General Dracul said, the corners of his lips turning up in a small but sinister sneer.
She knew not to be stubborn or difficult, so she looked down, but only to take her seat. Perched on the edge, Juliet tried to subtly size him up.
Lord Dracul looked like Kol—or rather, Kol looked like his dad—but the director had a much more ancient and powerful air to him. Aside from their looks, father and son couldn't be more different. Although he was serious, Kol seemed to have more depth, and an openness to possibilities—especially after Myreen arrived. General Dracul, on the other hand, was the definition of rigid force and intimidation. It seeped out of his pores and lasered through his gaze. He sat straight, his hands folded on the desk in front of him—even seated, he towered over her. Everything about the man screamed dark, and for just a moment, she felt sorry for Kol. This was his father, the man who’d raised him.
Juliet took a deep breath. “You wanted to see me?” she said, taking the lead so the general would know she had a backbone. “I was training with my father.”
“Hardly,” Major Peters chimed from behind her.
“If I may,” Juliet said, stuffing her hands under her legs to keep them from balling into fists, “I don't feel comfortable with Nanny McPhee, here, breathing down my neck. I’d only just walked into my father’s office when I was ambushed—not that I have to explain myself to you Mr. Peters.” She knew she was treading a thin line. It was a line she definitely wouldn't be crossing with the general, but his officers were a different matter.
The general’s laugh was deep and menacing, the stuff of nightmares. “Major, step outside. I’ll let you know when your services are required again.” He sounded amused—which couldn't be good. But this would go better without the pipings of the major, so she was satisfied.
Juliet gave the general her full attention.
“I see here in your records that you’re quite the warrior. Your stats in defense are off the charts. And for a newbie like you, that’s impressive.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? Was this an interrogation or some kind of recruitment? Juliet didn't like either choice. She stayed quiet, letting him finish.
“Yet, there’s an entire page of red marks due to ‘uncontrollable habits.’ But let’s pin it on the fact that you were recently thrown into this world. Still, you helped defeat an entire vampire ambush during your first transformation.” He clapped three times, and it made Juliet want to cringe. “So, with a record like this, why haven't you looked into joining our ranks? It’s in your blood, isn't it? Being a Quinn ties you to the protection of the school, correct? So if we provide the best protection, why aren't you on our side? Isn't Myreen your friend? Does her return mean anything to you?”
He paused for a second. She didn't know if she should answer him or if he’d consider it an interruption.
“Is it that you're occupied with other things? Of course it could be. I know you're my assistant’s precious Juliet.” Another sinister snicker. “But I also know that I keep him busy, so that couldn't be taking up all of your time. What else could you be so engaged in?” Another pause.
Should she answer? “I’ve had to take time to... reassess myself,” she said. “After what happened with Myreen, I became unbalanced again.”
He lifted two fingers to shut her up. Apparently she wasn't supposed to answer him.
“No, I don't think it’s that, either,” he argued. “You see, when there are groups of kids together, it’s inevitable that a rumor mill is created. It’s a school; that’s normal, I get it. Now, I don't usually regard anything that comes out of a teenager’s mouth, but when it comes out of several, that’s when we choose to monitor the mill. Make sense?” The rhetorical questions unsettled her. She wished this conversation would end.
“Would you like to know the juicy story of the week? I'm sure you would, since you're the star. Apparently you, Miss Quinn, have been holding secret meetings with some of the students here.” He paused again, and Juliet had to fight the warmth itching to escape her fingertips. “At first, I thought that nobody in their right mind would be that stupid. But then as Major Peters continued to brief me, it made a little more sense. So here we are. What do you think of the latest gossip?”