Blood Huntress (Ruled by Blood Book 1)

by Izzy Shows

  “Oh, uh, hello,” I said. I closed the book, although I kept my thumb on the page I’d been reading to save my spot. “Can I help you?”

  “I believe you can. You’re Nina, aren’t you?”

  How did he know that? “Yes, I am.”

  “Fantastic. I’m Alex.” He bowed slightly. “I’m a friend of the King. Grayson. Or Gray, as I like to call him. You should too. It'll drive him mad.” He winked at me, as if he was sharing an inside joke.

  I blinked, totally thrown by this vampire. He was behaving as if we were fast friends, when I knew nothing at all about him. Plus, how would I know he wasn’t trying to get me in trouble with Grayson?

  “A friend of the King, hm?” I glanced down at the book before I looked up at him through my lashes. “I don’t think I’ll be using his nickname, thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I know he’d love it.”

  “You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?”

  He flashed a grin. “For Gray? Always. He needs it.”

  Why would he need someone to make trouble?

  He picked you out of all the thralls. Clearly, he has a taste for troublemakers.

  Fair enough.

  “Although I think you’re causing enough trouble all on your own.”

  I gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got Gray all...tied up. Perfectly distracted.”

  I felt my cheeks flush with heat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The words came out in a mumble, because I did have an idea what he meant.

  Gray had been odd around me, and I could definitely see him carrying that through the rest of his interactions. I didn’t know what he found so interesting about me—I was trying to be as bland as possible—but he was definitely curious.

  That curiosity must be getting to him, if he was distracted enough for his friend to comment on it.

  “What are you reading?” Alex asked, taking a step closer to peer at my book.

  “The Old Wars,” I said, lifting it up for him to see.

  “Oh, that’s a fantastic book.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “Of course. It’s absolutely fascinating, although...well, not quite as much to me as it would be to you, I suppose. Having lived through it, I’m quite familiar with the story. But the author's attempt to depict the wolves’ point of view is quite admirable.” He paused. “I think it’s significantly more interesting that you find it interesting enough to read about.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Well, you’re a thrall.”

  “And I have a healthy desire to learn. Why should that surprise you?”

  He frowned as if I’d completely missed the point of what he'd said. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it, continuing to look at me with confusion in his eyes.

  Why I was confusing everyone?

  “Did you think thralls were somehow lacking in intellectual capacity?” I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t hold the comment back.

  He barked out a rough laugh. “You're positively delightful, do you know that? No one talks like you do. It’s refreshing, to me, at least. I don’t know that the others will find it so, but what a relief it must be to speak the things that come to your mind the moment they do, hm?”

  “I’ve never lived any other way, so I suppose I don’t know.”

  He smiled at me. “I can see why Gray is so taken with you.”

  I glared at him, choosing to ignore that last comment. “I’m not the only thrall with a brain, you know. It’s nothing special.”

  “Is that so?”

  “How would you not know that?”

  He frowned, then he let out a weak chuckle. “I must confess, I've never tried to talk to a thrall before.”

  Wow. Talk about prejudiced.

  I let out a sigh and shook my head. “You shouldn’t be so classist,” I chided him.

  He chuckled again. “You’ve got me there. I see it will take me some time to acclimate to you, but I do appreciate your honesty.”

  “It’s the one thing I’m consistently good at, you know.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that’s true. You seem like a girl with many talents.”

  If only he knew.

  “Well, I must go. But it was quite delightful speaking with you. I hope you have a good day, Nina.”

  “And you,” I said, then watched him leave.

  When I was alone again, I stared down at the book in my lap. What in the world...

  Gray had already been challenging my view on vampires, and now this man had come in and behaved like a regular human being, albeit a prejudiced one?

  I had no idea what to do with this new insight.

  9

  Nina

  For the fifth time that morning, I fidgeted with my dress in front of the mirror, then shifted my hair from one shoulder to the next. Then I split it evenly to fall across both shoulders, still wasn’t happy with it, and shoved it all behind to fall down my back.

  I let out a huff.

  No matter what I did, I wasn’t going to be good enough.

  The Dowager Queen—Grayson’s mother—had invited me for tea.

  And of course that invitation was laced with all sorts of implications.

  Like, I’m totally going to eat you for breakfast because you’re a problem here.

  I wasn’t trying to be a problem, but after the conversation with Alex, I'd started to pay attention to the number of times Grayson came to see me, and, well... None of our interactions were particularly long, but they were very frequent. He was a perfect gentleman, always—he had to be playing some kind of game—but he was also rather abrupt towards the end of our interactions.

  Just like that first night.

  I didn’t know what to do about any of it, since he wouldn’t exactly open up to me about what I was supposed to be doing.

  It was very sink or swim, and I was definitely sinking right now.

  If only my abuelita were here. She would know what to do.

  But she wasn’t, and she hadn’t been for a long time. She probably wouldn’t give me any advice other than, ‘Get the hell out of that hornets’ nest.’

  Which, admittedly, wasn’t bad advice.

  But I’d chosen to live in this hornets’ nest for as long as Conall required, and I couldn’t go back on that decision.

  Which meant going to see the Dowager Queen.

  I let out another sigh, checked my appearance one last time, then left the suite.

  It was a short walk to her suite—royalty lived close together—but I trembled the whole way there.

  At last, I was standing in front of her door, and my hand shook visibly as I lifted it. I meant to knock on the door, but it was as if there was an invisible force field that my hand couldn’t push through.

  She’s going to kill me.

  No, my nerves were going to kill me before she got the opportunity to do it.

  With a little huff, I shoved my nerves back down and knocked on the door.

  “Enter.” Her voice rose at a commanding volume from within the room, which only served to rattle me further.

  “It’s all going to be OK,” I muttered to myself before I pushed the door open, walked in, and closed the door behind me.

  The suite was extravagant. The sitting room was large and filled with numerous pieces of art and furniture. It spoke volumes about her status and how long she'd been here—I got the impression that Grayson’s suite was more something that he just happened to live out of, that he didn’t particularly care about it, hadn’t put much thought into it, and would have been perfectly OK living out of the common quarters for all the time he spent, or didn’t spend, in it.

  Not so with his mother. She'd spent God only knew how much time arranging her suite just the way she liked it, and she'd probably kill anyone who suggested she change one little thing.

  She was sitting at a small café table by the wall, her face p
erfectly calm, with a smile on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her hair was as white as her son’s, and she was wearing an elegant blue gown.

  “Do take a seat, dear,” she said, but her tone said something different.

  Get out, and don’t ever come back.

  That was the impression she gave me, but I’d be a fool to do anything other than what she specifically told me to do. I was out of my depth here. I could only do as I was told and hope to get out of this with my head intact.

  I curtsied, hoping that was the right thing to do, then walked over and took the seat opposite her.

  “I’m so curious about you,” she said, her smile never faltering.

  This woman didn’t want to know the least little thing about me; I knew that. This was an intimidation game, and I had to play along.

  “What would you like to know?” I tried for my own smile, but it was a little wobbly.

  “Where do you come from?”

  I froze for a moment before I remembered the cover story Conall had provided me with.

  “Oh, just a small estate in the country. Really, it’s of no particular consequence.”

  “I see.”

  I swallowed, waiting for her to say something else. This woman was an ice queen, and she was doing a fine job of rattling me.

  “And how is it that you caught my son’s eye?”

  Ah. Now we were getting down to it, although she was still skirting around what she actually wanted to say. That damned political style of speaking.

  I shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’m just as confused as everyone else.”

  “Hm.” She took a sip of her tea, then placed the cup back on the table. “How odd.”

  “Odd, ma’am?”

  “You're not quite what I’d expect of my son’s thrall.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to choose my words carefully. She was clearly saying I wasn’t good enough, but I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “And you do take up quite a bit of his attention, don’t you?” she continued. “I’m not sure that’s for the best.”

  So, now I was a bad influence? What could I do to make her see that I hadn’t chosen any of this?

  She continued on for several minutes, carrying on a one-sided conversation full of double-talk and implications that I was bad for her son, and after a while, I reached my breaking point.

  I stiffened my shoulders and lifted my chin.

  “What would you have me do? I have no control over what your son does or doesn't do. It’s not my fault if he wants to spend time with me. I'm certainly not trying to cause any trouble, and aren’t I supposed to be taking care of all your son’s needs? If he wants to spend time with me, I think that’s his decision.”

  She lifted her eyebrows, her only reaction to my outburst.

  Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that.

  I felt sweat bead on my forehead as if I were on a hunt and seconds away from being caught in the middle of a kill. She was just as terrifying as if that was actually going to happen.

  At last, she made a small noise that sounded...a little...approving?

  “You're certainly an interesting little thing,” she said at last.

  I chose to take that as a compliment, even if she'd just called me a thing.

  But it broke the ice.

  She warmed to me, and we fell into friendly conversation about Gray. What he was like, his little quirks and such. I got the sense that she didn’t have many people to talk to about him, and he was her pride and joy.

  “I do have to say,” she went on after taking another sip of her tea, “I’m glad he isn’t lonely anymore.”

  I stared at her for a moment. It almost sounded like she liked me, like she was happy I was here.

  What a complete reversal.

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can,” I replied, hoping it was a suitable answer for her.

  “Well, dear, I've enjoyed this, but I have some things to attend to.”

  And that was that. I was dismissed.

  “Of course. Thank you for your time,” I said. I stood and curtsied again before I made my way out of the suite.

  What a strange interaction.

  10

  Nina

  I hadn’t thought that spending days in a vampire castle would be a pleasant experience, but the King—no, his name was Grayson—had been very kind to me. A perfect gentleman, of all things.

  He hadn’t tried to feed on me, not even once.

  Why was a part of me disappointed by that?

  None of it made sense.

  He had to be up to something.

  Vampires weren’t nice.

  He likes to toy with his food. That's it.

  Of course. The King of the vampires had to be the worst of all of them. He wasn’t satisfied with simply having a thrall at his beck and call, to feed him whenever he had a craving.

  No, he wanted to play with his dinner before he ate it. He'd do everything he could to make me feel comfortable before he pounced, and then it would be all over.

  He'd probably even kill me when all was said and done.

  Maybe the thralls had been wrong. Maybe he did take thralls all the time, but he killed them before word could get around.

  He looked at you like a starving man.

  Because he wanted to eat me, obviously.

  And not in the fun way, I assumed.

  Ugh. This was so not how I wanted to spend my days. Round and round, trying to understand Grayson and knowing without a doubt that I wasn’t any closer to figuring it out. He was an enigma, and I was totally screwed trying to guess what his motives were.

  With a groan, I forced myself out of my bed and dressed quickly. I laid an ear to the door before leaving my room to enter the living room, wanting to make sure he wasn’t anywhere around.

  A quick look in each direction assured me that he was nowhere to be found.

  The traitorous part of my mind wondered where he was and what he was up to—but, no, I wasn’t going down that road. I wasn't even going to think about him.

  Just five minutes. I could totally go five minutes without thinking about him.

  The flowing gown they’d given me to wear—a thrall’s uniform—swirled around my feet as I left the suite of rooms that belonged to Grayson. I was still skittish as I walked the halls of the castle, half-expecting someone to lurch around a corner and scream, "Blood mage!"

  But that didn’t happen.

  My heart started to hammer against my ribs as I approached the first vampire in the hallway—the first of many. The hall was littered with vampires and thralls.

  It was obvious that I wasn’t safe here. I was essentially cattle to these people, and I didn’t have my stakes with me. I felt naked without my hunting gear, without the black outfit that I’d long since become accustomed to.

  It was a comfort to remember that my magic couldn’t be taken away from me. The potion I drank nightly prevented anyone from smelling it on me, but it didn’t dull the actual magic.

  If push came to shove, I could handle myself.

  That knowledge allowed me to straighten my shoulders and walk a little taller, briefly forgetting that I was supposed to be a meek and mild thrall.

  When I passed the vampire, he shuffled out of my way, kept his eyes downturned, and murmured a soft greeting to me.

  I froze, shocked, and stared at him for a second.

  What?

  The muscles in his shoulders visibly tightened, and I realized after a moment that he was anxious.

  Then I remembered what the other thralls had told me: as the King’s thrall, my status in the castle was great indeed. Greater than that of a good number of the actual vampires here.

  I had power.

  The thrill of that knowledge buoyed me as I continued on down the hallway until I made it to the kitchen. My encounter with the vampire repeated itself as I passed a number of thralls and vampires along the way. The
re were a few who responded with a nod instead of looking away from me, but they were still respectful.

  I hadn’t expected respect here.

  Pushing open the large door, I entered the kitchen.

  Laughter died in the air as I walked into the room. There were several other thralls here—this was a ‘safe’ place where they liked to congregate. The vampires didn’t eat regular food, so they didn’t bother coming into the kitchen. All the food was prepared by and for the thralls.

  Mostly, there was herd thralls in here, doing the cooking for breakfast, but there were a few noble thralls as well. Hanging out, making conversation.

  Or at least, they had been.

  Icy stares landed on me, and when I met each of their eyes, I realized they were glaring at my neck.

  My unmarred neck.

  A blush crept up my cheeks at the implications there—Grayson hadn’t touched me yet, and they were all obviously put out by that knowledge. Every day, it was the same, though for some reason I kept expecting the situation to change. Every day, when I came into the kitchen, the other thralls would look at me with contempt when they saw my neck.

  I dearly wished for clothing that would hide my throat. If Grayson wasn’t going to feed on me—not that I wanted him to!—I should at least be able to hide that from the others.

  “Hello,” I said as I walked farther into the room. “How are your mornings going?”

  No one answered.

  I leaned against a counter, looking down at the floor for a moment while I took in a deep breath. All right, so no one wanted to make conversation with me. That much was obvious.

  I'd known I wasn’t going to make any friends here, and that wasn’t exactly my strong suit, anyway, but I was determined to have at least one conversation with these people.

  A five-minute conversation, and I’d be happy.

  You don't want to mess with me when I'm determined about something.

  “I was thinking about taking a walk around the grounds later. It’s been a while since we’ve had some fresh air. Would anyone like to join me?” I beamed at them as I finally lifted my head to look at them.

  Most of the herd thralls had gone back to their cooking, but some of them were still regarding me with hatred in their eyes.