by Anne Malcom
He unstopped whiskey, my favorite, and poured two glasses, extending one to me.
I stared at it, not moving.
“It’s customary and polite to take a drink when offered.”
I met his eyes. “It’s also customary and polite for the host and owner of said drinks to offer refreshment to a guest she invited into her apartment, not one who broke in and is now raiding her hundred-year-old whiskey,” I retorted. I so needed to realize I was talking to the king and choose my words more carefully, but in almost four hundred years, although I’d learned a lot of things, how to control my mouth was not one of them.
“Take the fucking drink, Isla,” he commanded roughly.
The way his mouth wrapped around my name had my legs disobeying me.
My hand touched his briefly as I took the glass. I didn’t visibly react to the spark that came from the contact, but his eyes darkened a fraction beneath his king mask.
I took two measured steps back from him, wandering to regard the twinkling lights of Manhattan to make it seem like I was enjoying the view instead of escaping his presence.
The sharp twang of the whiskey slithered down my throat as silence descended heavily over the room.
His form filled the corner of my eye as he came to adopt the same position as me, thankfully a reasonable distance away. That didn’t stop my hand shaking slightly around my glass.
“I owe you a debt,” he murmured, breaking the silence. “You saved my life at the Majestic, fought for me.”
I gave him a look. “I fought for me,” I corrected. “If I’m not mistaken, I didn’t have much choice when a werewolf spear-tackled me. Plus, I’ve been itching to give Selene what was coming to her for centuries. You did me a favor by almost letting her kill you.”
He regarded me, his brows narrowed only slightly, the rest of his face impassive. “Your rapid exit made it unable for me to offer my thanks,” he said.
“I hate cleanup,” I said. “I hire people for that, and I did rather make a mess. Plus, like I already said, you don’t need to thank me.”
His stare didn’t waver and it unnerved me. “You don’t want anything in return for your actions?”
I scoffed. “At the risk of sounding disrespectful, Your Highness, you don’t have anything I want.”
His face changed slightly, eyes widening in surprise. “You’re serious.”
I waved my hand. “I’m rarely ever serious, but on this occasion, it’s the truth.”
He twirled the tumbler in his hands, the only movement as his body stayed statue-still. “You really have no desire to align yourself in any position in society, like your mother and brothers crave?” His voice had a note of disbelief.
I smiled. “You’re referencing their ruthless pursuit of power and influence, so you’ve met my family, I presume?”
His eyes turned hard as he nodded once.
“Well then you must understand my immense desire to position myself far, far away from them. And any undead contemporaries clinging to an archaic and outdated feudal system.” My thoughts caught up with my mouth. “No offense intended,” I added, attempting to put a verbal Band-Aid over the bullet wound I’d created.
He merely sipped his drink. The silence yawned over us and I turned to glance at the skyline, the lights like floating diamonds.
“You’re aware of the current situation within our society?” he asked finally.
It was a leap from our current topic, but I was one who regularly spoke about puppies one minute and nuclear bombing my parents’ house in Russia just for fun, so I rolled with it,
I didn’t take my eyes off the horizon. “Politics bore me,” I responded. “But if you’re referring to the sect of vampires vying to be supreme rulers over their race and to enslave humankind as the current ‘situation,’ then yes, I’m aware.”
It was hard not to be. I didn’t add that I was reasonably sure my idiot brothers were probably involved in said sect somehow, nor would I be surprised if my cunning and manipulative daddy was a founding father of the little group that had been causing trouble for the past ten years but now were engaging in coordinated attacks against established forms of vampire governance and humankind in general. A lot of their mass murders were marketed as national disasters, disease epidemics and even one war. Publicity for that must have been a bitch.
“I’ve got a team investigating the instigators and leader of this faction,” he began.
I glanced at his profile. “What? You don’t support it? I was sure you’d be their main cheerleader. Human enslavement, vampire dominion over the entire world? I was thinking that’s exactly the kind of thing a ruler would be on board with,” I remarked.
His cold gaze settled over me. “One thing to learn about me, in addition to the fact I’m your fucking king, is that you do not make assumptions about me. Such things are dangerous, even for women like you, who have my attention,” he said, his voice even but sharp. He turned his attention back to the skyline. “I do not condone nor appreciate challenges to my authority. I take it as a personal insult,” he continued. “I will personally pull apart every vampire involved in this pitiful thing they call a rebellion.” The cold promise in his voice unsettled me, and I’d seen and delivered a lot of death. “We coexist with humans. Yes, we are superior to them. That’s a fact of nature. As is the fact that we rely on them for sustenance. But it does not mean we will take over their civilization, pitiful as it is.”
I hid my surprise by taking another sip. “I fail to see what this has to do with me. Unless you consider me to be an instigator and are here to tear me apart?”
His gaze bore into me. “That would be a crime in itself, so I’ll try not to do that. I know you would have no affiliation with such a group considering your… relationship with humans.”
I glared at him. “I don’t have a relationship with humans,” I argued sharply. “Apart from the ones who make red-soled shoes and exquisite handbags. The rest are of little consequence to me.”
He saw through me. “And what of your abruptly stopping one of the most notorious murder sprees of the seventeenth century to get your meals only from humans evil enough to be vampires by nature alone?” He paused, twisting the glass in his hand. “Could it be the relationship you had with a human in Paris in 1676, one that was solidified in marriage, if I’m not mistaken? One that ended with you becoming a widow at a tragically young age and was the catalyst for your final transition into immortality?”
Centuries of solitude with those memories didn’t make them any easier to hear out loud. In fact, in all the centuries that had passed I didn’t think I’d ever heard it out loud. Not in a handful of sentences. I could scarcely believe that pain and suffering not even small enough to package into four hundred years could be surmised so coldly. I stiffened, my only reaction to the words piercing skin thick enough not to be punctured with any blade.
I drained my glass and calmly walked over to my bar, pouring three fingers into it. I was sorely tempted to drink from the bottle but vulnerability was dangerous, even deadly in situations such as this. My family already knew about mine, and it was the string they tugged at when they wanted to use me as a puppet.
I didn’t need anyone else adding their own strings to my back. Especially not this monarch. Or any monarch.
I took a considerable gulp of the liquid. He’d stayed silent, regarding the view the entire time. Calm. One might even say relaxed.
“You’ve been doing your homework,” I observed, my voice light. “You want a gold star to go with your crown for such extensive research?”
He turned his back on the windows, giving me his full attention. Such an action was unnerving in my current state, when all I could see was Jonathan and blood.
I blinked away the images.
“I’m not surprised that your family was behind the murder of your human husband,” he said. “Their stance on humans is not exactly a secret, and your brothers have already received many warnings as to their discretion in
procuring their meals since I’ve taken my position.”
I snorted. “You’ve met my brothers?”
He nodded.
“Well then, you’ve got your explanation as to why they don’t consider discretion laws around human kills as applying to them. Haven’t you heard? They’re part of the ‘great families.’ Things like high-risk humans and kill quotas don’t apply to them.”
There were rules in our little society around killing humans. It wasn’t outlawed, of course; in fact, it was encouraged. We only had to call the Sector to get them to clean up whatever bloodbath we’d created. But there were strict rules as to how such kills were made: nothing in public, and if there were witnesses, they must be taken care of. No pack kills in urban, population-dense areas. Vampires could own humans as property, and those humans were not to be harmed by anyone. If they were, their owner had justifiable means to start a blood feud. Rare, as vampires weren’t usually willing to start such things over something as insignificant as human life. It was mostly the principle of the thing. Vampires were big on that.
And the rules went on. Most were rarely enforced because humans were too stupid to realize that the majority of their missing persons and murders weren’t the work of the people they locked up. They’d be more than a little shocked to learn that vampires were not only real but a large majority of them held high-authority positions in the human world.
Secrecy was the biggest rule of the race; no one was coming out of the coffin any time soon. That would make eating out that much more political. Better to live in the shadows.
“I’m the king, so I make the rules. And I know that the families with Ambrogio’s Vein Line think those rules don’t apply to them. Which is why most of them are frontrunners for leaders of the sect,” he said, clutching his glass.
“So that’s why you’re here? You want me to snitch on my family?” I deduced.
His face betrayed nothing, yet his eyes swirled with something I couldn’t grasp. “No. I do understand how loyalty works.”
I grinned. “Oh no, I’d snitch on them in a second. Less than a second. It would be my immense pleasure to do so. Unfortunately, I’m not invited to family dinners to overthrow the vampire king.” I shrugged. “I’m the white sheep of the family, you see? So it’s been a wasted trip.” I turned towards the door. “I’ll let you get back to your night of draining virgins and ruling the masses from your ivory tower. I’m afraid I don’t validate parking.” I fastened my hand against the knob and prepared a glittering grin for Jeeves.
“That’s not the reason I’m here, Isla,” he said.
My hand paused. “Well then, Your Majesty, please educate me. Because as much as I love dancing, and I do, it’s preferably in nightclubs full of juicy humans, not around subjects.”
“Emrick.” His voice was rough.
My hand snapped back from the door and I turned. “Seriously?” I didn’t display my shock outwardly to hearing the king’s given name. It was knowledge only a few possessed. Yes, they were that pompous that they didn’t even let those they ruled know their first names. That and there were whispers of their blood being the closest to that of Ambrogio; spells could be weaved by witches who knew their true names. If so, Rick was going out on a limb—all of them, actually—by giving me his name. He had always been known as King Markandeya. It was a family affair, and the current king was usually crowned when he killed his father.
No shit. They were that ruthless.
Granted, his father had been ruling for a few millennia, so I guessed it was time for a change.
“Of course you’d have a name that literally meant ‘immortal.’ Ever heard of subtlety?” I teased.
He didn’t respond, though I didn’t expect him to. “You should take the knowledge of my name as a gesture of trust on my part.”
“The only person I trust is the woman who does my Brazilians. Sorry, but murderous monarchs don’t even make it to the people I kind of trust.” I paused. “Actually, they and vampires in general are on the big old ‘don’t even trust with my great screenplay idea’ list.”
His eyes flickered and then his face hardened. “Not surprising. But you can trust me and I’m trusting you. Betrayal of that trust—”
I waved my hand. “Yes, pieces of me. No need to quote Ashlee Simpson.”
His brow furrowed. It was quite novel, the confusion on a face most likely always connoting authority. “I don’t follow.”
“Of course you don’t. I didn’t expect you to listen to bad pop songs in your spare time.”
He resumed his mask. “I don’t have time for this conversation, as entertaining as it is. I’m here because of your friendships with those in both the supernatural and human communities.”
I raised my brow. “Well, someone’s giving you dodgy info, Rick.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s Emrick. Surely you haven’t forgotten your own king’s name in a handful of seconds?”
I quirked my brow. “No way in heaven I’m calling you that.” I downed my drink. “Back to your original statement. I don’t have friends. I’m a lone wolf. I walk this world alone. Haven’t you heard? The entirety of the vampire world hates me, just as I like it. And humans annoy me, werewolves smell, witches are pesky, demons are just plain selfish and the rest don’t interest me.”
I thought of Scott, but he most certainly didn’t count. He was more like an annoying stray puppy that followed me home than anything else. I still hadn’t ruled out killing him.
Even mentioning Sophie to the king was out of the question. He did not need to know about my friendship with a controversial witch; he already had enough reason to punish me. Plus, Sophie was my one and only friend, and I didn’t want her to be on the receiving end of any death sentences.
Though I didn’t completely rule out telling him, since his ‘punishments’ sounded like my kind of fun.
He took measured steps towards me, placing his glass on my coffee table.
Once more, he was back in my bubble. I tried not to like it. I really did.
My resolve was failing. In the space of twenty-four hours I’d been far too close to two men I found inexplicitly attractive, both of whom I should’ve stayed far away from.
One because he was born to kill me.
One because he was born to be something that I despised.
“The entirety of a race hates you?” he repeated. “I think you’re being overly dramatic.”
I quirked my brow. “Oh, I’m really not. Three assassination attempts in as many months would beg to differ.”
My tone was light but he didn’t take it so. His entire body stiffened and his eyes went to stone. “What?” he ground out. “Assassination?”
I shrugged. “No big. Well, actually the last one did ruin my favorite pumps, so that was kind of a big deal.”
“I’ll put a protection detail on you.”
I blinked at him, first shocked at his sudden anger and subsequent declaration, then insulted. “I don’t need protection,” I snapped. “I’m more than capable of snuffing out any vampire stupid enough to try and mess up my day with a murder attempt. Especially ones who ruin my favorite heels. That one’s death was particularly slow.”
He stared at me, his face impassive. “Then I’ll find the vampires behind it.”
“No need. I know who’s behind it.”
His silence communicated his question.
“It’s my darling family,” I continued.
“Your family?” he repeated.
“It’s a game we play. They hire various vampires to kill me on the off chance they’ll succeed and they’ll be able to breathe easier. I continue to survive for a multitude of reasons, mainly because I like it, and it comes with the added benefit of pissing my mom off. I’m hoping that my continued existence will be the catalyst for the first vampire case of wrinkles.” I held my crossed fingers up.
“Your family could quite possibly be more fucked up than mine,” he observed dryly.
The tone was so
natural it caught me off guard for a second.
I grinned. “You can bet on it, Rick.”
He stared at me, something behind it that time. Some sort of shared connections at our bloodstained lineage perhaps.
Whatever it was, I was betting the attraction between us was more dangerous than our respective families.
“You would be surprised to learn that in some circles within our race you are respected.”
I raised a brow. “What circles would those be? The ones that the brain-damaged vampires draw?”
Various vampires had been documented as going mad. Some purely from old age, which made sense. Thousands of years of memories and emotions could only fit in one mind for so long without going a little hinky, twisting to accommodate more of the world. Existing on earth indefinitely also got a little tiring. Others were captured by hunters or cursed by witches and went batty through curses or torture.
“Ones who hold the same amount of respect for humans that you pretend not to have. We won’t count the men who have for centuries been lining up to spend even a night in your company,” he rasped, his voice thick.
“Well, I choose my bedmates carefully. I don’t want to add to the number of vampires in the silly house. I’m too much for most.” I winked.
He stepped forward. “I believe that.”
I didn’t say a word. This flirting thing was getting far too real.
“Despite what you think about your reputation, you have one. And connections, if not friendships, with almost every sector of the supernatural world. Which is valuable for me. And my goals.”
So maybe he already knew about Sophie. He had a better poker face than me.
It was worrying. And annoying.
“Sorry, but I drive a Mercedes, not an Aston Martin, and there are no zeros before my name,” I stated.
His brow rose in question. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
I scowled. “You want me to spy for you. And my name isn’t Bond, James Bond, so I’m not up to the task, unfortunately. Try Daniel Craig. He does do a charmingly good job.”