Fatal Harmony (The Vein Chronicles Book 1)

by Anne Malcom

He stiffened until he followed my gaze, his eyes twinkling with the slightest amusement as my mother approached.

  She put on an almost genuine smile, surprising me that her facial muscles still moved that way. “Isla,” she said warmly, like it was normal. She reached in to give me air kisses. When she released me, she looked between me and the king before dipping her head. “Sire,” she greeted.

  My brothers hung back, one gripping a human with fear in her eyes and sorrow in her soul. Their eyes were masked in hatred. I returned the favor. Human property was not permitted at such gatherings unless they didn’t leave through the doors they came in.

  Not many vampires adhered to draining humans at these events, not this century at least. Most had become more progressive, if only for privacy about their killing habits. Not my brothers.

  I swallowed my rage and once more promised myself that I’d be putting a blade through their hearts.

  Not in time to save the human, though.

  I’d learned to swallow whatever pain came with that thought. You couldn’t save everyone.

  He nodded. “Alyona,” Rick greeted, his eyes on Viktor and the human roughly plastered to his side before focusing on my mother. Though his practiced tone was full of respect, I could sense the distaste that underpinned it.

  My mother looked between us once more, unable to keep the calculated glee off her face. I bet she was planning the best way to weasel her way into being the queen mother and commencing world domination.

  “My darling.”

  I glanced around, wondering who she was addressing. When it became apparent that she was talking to me, I looked back to her.

  “This is the last place I expected to see you, with the king on your arm as well,” my mother continued, ignoring my extended pause.

  “Yes, well, it seems hell has frozen over,” I replied, sipping my drink. I then tilted my head and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry that means you won’t be able to return home in the near future.”

  Her eye ticked slightly, but the rest of her mask stayed in place. She glanced to Rick. “My daughter, the joker. She must have you in fits of laughter, sire.”

  Rick’s face stayed blank. “She keeps me amused,” he answered dismissively. “Unfortunately, I’m not here to be amused. I’m here to host.” He stepped back, nodding slightly. “If you’ll excuse us, I must take Isla to amuse the rest of the guests. She is my court jester, after all.”

  I choked on the wine I was downing at the dry and even tone accompanying the words.

  Rick ignored it, nodding to my mother in farewell before dragging me off.

  I waved at her with my glass, still swallowing laughter.

  Rick guided us through the crowds until we were a safe distance away.

  “You have a touch with sadistic mothers,” I complimented. “You have one too?”

  He kept his eyes blank. “I don’t have a mother. If you’ll recall your history lessons, the royal Vein Line kills the queen once she’s birthed an heir.”

  Foot in mouth once more.

  “Oh yes. I did forget that frightfully brutal piece of history,” I replied. “Likely did you a favor, though. If this environment is anything to go by, she would’ve been a snake anyway.”

  I probably should’ve told him I was sorry for his loss or treaded carefully. I didn’t do careful.

  Rick glanced at me. “In my years as prince, then king, not one vampire has been so callous about my mother,” he observed.

  I sipped my drink. “What can I say? I’m unique.”

  He chuckled once more.

  I scanned the crowd, all of whom were staring at us while trying to pretend they weren’t.

  I leaned in. “As fun as this is, it’s hard to spy while attached to the king,” I murmured. “Perhaps you should go off and execute or at least flay some people and cause a distraction so I can go about my business.”

  Rick’s face stayed blank. “Yes, I think you’re right.” He paused. “But before I do that, I’d like to show you something.”

  He directed us through the crowd and towards the edge of the room.

  I raised my brow. “Are we going to play doctor with all of your guests within hearing distance?” I teased. “Why, you are a naughty monarch.”

  Rick ignored me, all but for the small upturn of his mouth.

  We continued down a hallway drenched in the same trappings of aristocratic wealth, tasteless and dated tapestries alongside paintings of old, fat and boring men.

  “You need a decorator from this century,” I observed. “Or at least one who isn’t going for Count D chic.”

  Rick was still silent.

  It was unnerving, being in his presence and not getting even a slight gauge of his thoughts. Like he was a marble statue that walked and talked. And drank blood. And alternately threatened me with death and flirted with me.

  The marble hand opened a door to a stairway that went down.

  “After you,” he said, nodding.

  “Age before beauty,” I challenged, not liking going down to what was most likely a dungeon without possibility for escape.

  Rick gave me a hard look.

  I puffed out a breath. “Fine, but if you’re taking me down here to kill me, I’ll be annoyed. Though I will say, I’m dressed rather fetchingly for death.”

  I stepped my red heel onto the first stone step, then another. The slight echo of the door closing behind Rick was hopefully not the sound of my doom. We descended in silence, a slow drip of water somewhere in the bowels of the mansion the only soundtrack. The air was damp and smelled like stone and mold. And something else.

  Death.

  I stopped at the bottom, a long hallway yawning out in front of me, various shapes lining the walls.

  Rick came to a stop beside me. “Welcome to the gallery,” he said, voice flat, then put his hand on my lower back, edging me forward.

  A shriveled and emaciated vampire greeted us. It could have been male or female, shoulder-length hair scraggly and clumped together. Its face was pinched and wrinkled, like a dehydrated corpse. The eyes were frighteningly alive, though, silently pleading as its fingers, which were chained above its head with copper wire, twitched.

  We kept walking. The next one was much the same.

  And the next.

  Their clothing was the only thing that betrayed their age. It was like going through a gruesome time capsule of the trends of the twenty-first century.

  I didn’t say a word through the journey.

  We came to a stop in front of a vampire less prune-like than the others. Her hair tumbled down her back, still shiny and healthy. The evening gown she was wearing was immaculate, if a little stained with blood.

  “Hi, Selene. Nice weather we’re having,” I greeted her cheerfully.

  Silence.

  Rick brushed my side. “For those who are guilty and of no further use for informational purposes, we cut their tongues out with enchanted blades,” he stated.

  I nodded. “Good call. Selene never had anything worthwhile to say anyway.”

  Her eyes narrowed with hate.

  Rick directed us to another vampire. It took effort to keep my face blank as hatred that dwarfed Selene’s greeted me.

  “Earnshaw. Looking well,” I said.

  His eyes bulged, though his body stayed statuesque.

  He was covered in matted blood and some injuries were still gaping, showing they had been made by an enchanted blade.

  “We’ve spelled him silent when we’re not interrogating him.”

  I stilled. “You’ve been interrogating him?”

  Rick nodded in my periphery. “He’s the only true member of the rebellion we’ve captured alive. I’m sure there’s more he’s not telling us.”

  I swallowed, hoping that Sophie’s little barriers held, or I’d be in a world of trouble.

  “Did you bring me down here for better company than the guests upstairs or just a general stretching of the legs?” I asked.

  E
ven in the dark I still caught every inch of Rick’s features as he turned to face me. They were etched like the stone surrounding us, his eyes glowing green in the dim light. “I brought you down here to show you that I take betrayal very seriously. And those who betray me don’t get the mercy of a quick death.”

  I managed to quell my panic at the weight of his words, and what was left unsaid.

  “So you’ll be comforted to know that those involved in this will be getting the most prudent punishment,” he continued.

  I hid my relief like I hid my fear as we returned to the stairs. “Yes. This has all been so very comforting,” I deadpanned.

  “And we’re down here because this is the one place we won’t be overheard.” His gaze flickered to the vampires around us. “At least not by anyone who’ll be seeing the light of day ever again.”

  I crossed my arms against the chill in the air and yet another cold premonition of death.

  By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.

  “You’ve found out how they made them,” I surmised.

  Rick nodded once. “It is not an exclusively vampire process.”

  I did my best not to gape at that.

  “Vampires who have taken human lovers and who have wanted to pass on the gift of immortality have been trying this for years, this is true,” Rick continued. “But since the dawn of our race, we have had little more than a tentative peace with the other supernatural creatures. If not for a few exceptions.” He gave me a pointed look. “Now it seems there is a common goal between them.”

  “New world order, human enslavement. I’ve heard the propaganda,” I spat. “I’m sick of the fucking publicity script.” I glared at Earnshaw, then Selene. “Rebellion is always entrenched in romance of revolution in the beginning, but reality soon moves in and fucks all romantic ideas, replacing them with blood and brutality. There’s nothing romantic about a revolution, even a good one, a necessary one. Death is the one certainty. It’s the sacrifice of the thing. Only in some cases is that death for a cause that’s worthy of it. Most of the time, the death serves as a boneyard to build a hell on. That’s what they’re trying to do, create a cemetery of bones and place them as martyrs in which to create more graves.”

  Rick regarded me. “I don’t disagree,” he said finally. “Though I didn’t understand you to be so… passionate towards them.”

  Seduction wrapped around the death in the air, which I would’ve been party to had Throne’s touch not still been firmly around my heart.

  “Call me traditional, but I do get a tad passionate about a group of people who try to kill me and my friends, plus create abominations who are a disgrace to both humans and vampires alike,” I snapped. “Now tell me how’re they’re made so we can unmake them.”

  Rick glanced to Earnshaw. “They can be killed by many of the same processes used to kill a vampire. Copper has somewhat of a muted effect on them but is still fatal in the head or heart.” He paused. “They can only be made by a vampire whose Vein Line has direct connection to Ambrogio. Noble blood.”

  Another pause, perhaps to carry the weight of the betrayal. Noble bloodlines had been those closest to the royal line for millennia.

  “Makes sense,” I muttered.

  Rick’s eyes went glacial. “It makes sense that the Vein Lines most loyal to the crown would be the ones to try to overthrow it?” His voice thickened with an ancient accent as fury got the best of him.

  I nodded. “Their proximity to you at these parties is not from love, but from jealousy. Greed. The most loyal are usually the most wicked. It is not our enemies we should look to to betray us, but our friends. For we do not expect loyalty from our enemies, do we? Betrayal is only birthed from loyalty. Look at Judas. And Brutus. And Brad Pitt.”

  Rick’s gaze was no longer tinted with anger. “You see much more than your eyes and your mouth lets on,” he said finally.

  I waited for him to continue.

  “Once the blood of the Vein Line has been inserted into the dead human, a witch, a powerful one with ancient magic, must replicate the death spell. Not a mortal death, but the vampire death,” Rick continued.

  “And I’m guessing that’s where Belladonna and her bunkmates come in,” I surmised.

  He nodded. “Yes. They’re likely the only ones on the planet with magic dark enough to do such things. Which is why they were originally banished. What they practiced was brought forth from Hades himself.”

  Another shiver settled over me. Or inside me, the bloom of death that had lingered since killing Belladonna.

  “Killing the witches is obviously going to be the top of our to-do list,” I said, instead of betraying my chill.

  “First we must separate the traitors,” Rick said.

  I glanced to the roof. “I’m thinking you have most of them up there as it is.”

  “I fear it to be so,” Rick agreed. “Though they will regret the day they entertained the thought of crossing me. No Vein Line will be safe. I will exterminate every last one of the great families if need be,” he promised.

  I grinned. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

  Before I could take a step, I was pressed against the rough stone, Rick’s body imprinted onto every inch of me. My body responded; although I was dead, I was not in the ground.

  “Centuries on this earth, surrounded by these vampires, and I have yet to meet one quite like you.” His breath was ice on my face. “Strong enough to fight for herself and others, a mouth sharper than the blades which I use to behead my enemies, and strangely merciful to the race as stupid as they are mortal,” he continued.

  I didn’t know quite what to say, so for once, I hedged my bets and stayed silent.

  “You could be my queen,” he invited, his voice absent of that detachedness that was ever present, even when he tried to seduce me.

  The pull of his raspy voice was magnetic, bringing with it the emotions that he’d kept hidden.

  I let them wash over me. Had I not been nailed down to another who clutched his hands around my nonbeating heart, they might have swayed me. Even now, I found myself tasting the promise on his lips.

  “A queen.” I let the word roll over my tongue. “Your queen. And where is this offer coming from? You don’t know me.”

  Yes, Rick had flirted with me, but it was detached and cold and came in the same sentence as a death threat. Now I was getting the offer of a crown?

  He kept his gaze on me. “I know that you are unique and strong enough to keep my interest and favor for centuries to come. That the thought of bedding you is as enticing as exterminating every traitor with my bare hands.” His hand was a ghost of ice on my jaw.

  I regarded his stare. “Interest, favor, sex,” I mused. “And what about love? Do you not look for that in a queen?”

  His body was stone. “We are immortals, Isla. We know that love is a fairytale that humans cling to in order to make it through their miserable lives. We know it does not exist.”

  The surety of his tone cleverly disguised the pain buried underneath it. Most likely wouldn’t have recognized it, unless they’d tasted the rancid turn of a love laid dead at their feet.

  Instead of addressing it, I nodded. “No, it does not. But reason does, and you seem to have that. Yet you still invite me to be your queen, even with what you do know of me?”

  His eyes glowed. “Yes, because of what I have witnessed in you,” he hissed. “You’d be the most powerful vampire on this earth. After we defeat the rebels, of course.”

  “Being a queen through a man is not how I’d like to gain power,” I said. “In fact, power is the last thing I’d get as your queen. It would get sucked from me as I was molded to fit the crown that comes with the title. See, I like jewels and sparkly things as much as the next girl, but only if they’re made for me. And that crown you’re offering? That’s made for someone else, someone I’d have to change into to ensure it fits on my head. And Your Highness, I don’t change. Not for a man, not for a vampire, a
nd not even for a king.”

  His mask returned, though he didn’t take his eyes off me. “Curious. I’m interested to be the first man, vampire, and king, to change that.”

  He didn’t say another thing, merely turned and ascended the stairs.

  “WELL BLOW ME DOWN WITH a fucking feather,” a rough drawl boomed over the soft conversation, various heads turning in distaste.

  I grinned immediately, which was good; after the evening I’d had I was in need of a grin. After the little visit downstairs and the offer of a crown amidst the rotting vampires who’d wronged the king, I was feeling a little flat. And more than a little unnerved that Earnshaw was still down there, with knowledge that could ruin me.

  “Move it. Get the fuck out of my way before I use my fangs to rip that stick out of your arse,” the voice continued as a large form stomped through the crowd. An auburn head turned to a woman in a purple dress who showed more cleavage than even I was comfortable displaying, which said a lot. “I might do that for you latter, lassie, but I’m sure you’d enjoy it.” His thick Scottish brogue curled around the words in a rough caress that made the woman forget his uncouthness, focusing on that accent and the muscles that couldn’t be contained under his gray suit.

  I didn’t need to see his eyes to know he gave her the signature smirk he’d perfected over the centuries to get women’s panties right off.

  He turned to lock his hazel gaze with mine, and his mouth parted into a full-on grin.

  “Isla, as I die and don’t breathe, it is you,” he declared, clearing the last few yards in mere seconds and yanking me into his bone-crushing embrace.

  I don’t use that as a figure of speech either; a handful of my ribs cracked with the force of the hug. Of course he heard it but gave me one last squeeze, because he was an asshole.

  “That’s for leavin’ me high and dry with those werewolves two centuries ago,” he growled in my ear.

  I laughed as he let me go, my ribs smarting as they failed to heal with the usual speed. It seemed too common of late, as if my body was punishing me for my relations with a human. “You’re trying to tell me you needed little old me to save you from some overgrown dogs?” I looked him up and down. “It seems they didn’t rip off any important parts. Plus, I had a party to go to at Marie Antoinette’s. Good thing I went too, since it was the last one she threw.”