The Veiled Series Collection

by Stacey Rourke

  Murad clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, nose crinkling in distain. “That paltry burg? Why would you choose there, in light of all I could offer you?”

  This time, there would be no suppressing my grin or the hot blush that filled my cheeks. “Why does any man commit any foolish act? There’s … a girl.”

  Resting his elbows on the arm rests of his throne, Murad’s hands dangled over the rounded edges. “Of course there is!” His boisterous peal of laughter echoed through the hall. “Isn’t there always? Other men struggle for a fraction of your military expertise. Yet you manage to juggle that, and find love. Tell me of this damsel whose hand you seek.”

  I had never spoken her name to another living soul, or confessed my feelings for her even to myself. Even so, with the path of possibility stretched out before me, my soul soared at the mere idea of it leading me straight to her. “She lives in my village. We used to play together when we were young. Her name is Jusztina, and her eyes are the color of a freshly sprouted meadow wet from a spring rain.”

  “Hah!” Murad threw is head back in another bark of laughter. “Such poetry! A tell-tale sign of that crushing first love. Tell me, young Dracul, does this maiden know of your affections and return them?”

  So skilled was I with a sword, yet speaking of such matters made a hot blush seep up to my earlobes. “I … believe so. We’ve exchanged letters through the years. She scents hers with lavender.”

  Clapping a hand over his heart, Murad feigned a pout. “Young love, I remember it well. So beautifully innocent. You simply must go to her, knowing if I ever call on thee again it will be your sworn duty to return.”

  Arm to my middle, I bent in a formal bow. “Without a moment’s hesitation.”

  Murad dipped his head, rewarding my humility with a brief nod. “Then go forth, oğlan, and seek ye self that love eternal. If all else fails, you’re always welcome to return. It would be my pleasure to kill my lay about brother-in-law for you at any time.”

  “I will send message straight away if the lovely Jusztina refuses me.” Feet itching to sprint from the castle, I risked a step back. “Sire, I must ask, what of Dorian?”

  “Who?” Murad’s face crinkled at the question.

  The footman standing beside him, hands politely folded, leaned in to whisper in the high ruler’s ear.

  “Oh, him,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes. “He’s a mediocre alchemist at best. I only tolerated him as a favor to you. By all means, take him with you as a parting gift.”

  “At your command, I will do so, and bid thee farewell.”

  “I bid! Go!” He waved me away with a flick of his wrist. “Leave my sight. I’m already bored of you. Go let love prevail, and all that nonsense.”

  Wide smile splitting my face, I needed no further invitation to sprint for the door. In her letters, Jusztina mentioned her father had been pressuring her to marry, since she was the last of her siblings to do so. If I could make it back before he found someone he deemed suitable, our love may yet stand a chance.

  Boots scuffing over the floor, I mulled over what essentials I needed to grab from my quarters. Little more than the necessities were required. For freedom, I would gladly trade all the luxuries of my station.

  Mind racing with what all I could fit in a satchel and still have room for canteens of water and provisions, I was oblivious to my surroundings until a hand hooked my upper arm and spun me around.

  Face red with agitation, Dorian forced his words through tightly clenched teeth. “A castle? You turned down a castle? As a rule for life, when someone offers you a castle, you take it.”

  Clapping my hands to his shoulders, I gave him a supportive squeeze. “I feel like you’re saying the word castle a lot, my friend, and, you needn’t worry. We have no need for a borrowed castle when a whole glorious village awaits! We’ve been granted permission to retire to Transylvania!”

  “You want me to go with you to your … farming community?” Dorian recoiled, shrugging off my touch.

  “You don’t know the thrill that awaits!” Turning on my heel, I resumed my stride down the open-air hall that led to the sleeping quarters. I held no doubt Dorian would fall into step behind me, if for no other reason than to continue yelling. “Working the land. Tending crops. It’s man’s work, Dorian! You will love it!”

  “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” He grimaced, following just as I predicted. “Here, we are exalted. Why would we voluntarily leave that?”

  “Because, we don’t need it!” I explained, throwing open the door to our quarters. “We have our freedom!”

  Instead of following me inside, Dorian paused in the doorway. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against its frame. “And what of The Dragon?”

  Catching his wrist, I tugged him inside and shut the door. For added precaution, I dropped my voice to an urgent whisper. “This changes nothing. You want The Dragon? Take it. You can keep performing ritual after ritual to make that so. I would happily rid myself of its burden.”

  “Much appreciated, but not at all what I meant. The Dragon has kept us here because it enjoys our way of life, and the seemingly endless body count that accompanies it.” Dorian’s eyes narrowed to slits of warning. “What do you think will happen when you try to contain him in a sleepy little town full of innocent lives?”

  “It doesn’t overcome me as frequently as it used to. I can contain it, and manage a normal life. I know I can.”

  Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.

  Chapter Eight

  Vinx

  Sitting on the edge of the bathroom sink, I sucked air through my teeth at the prickles of pain awakened by Carter dabbing a wet washcloth to my neck. The puncture wounds from Vlad’s sizeable fangs would have already healed, thanks to my upgraded cellular regeneration, had he not been wrestled off me by a small army of his own people. His locked jaws sawed through layers of flesh and tendon, leaving the magi with no choice but to lasso Vlad with silver chains to pry him off my slumped form. It took a full bag of blood and two of the pseudo-vamp serums to revive me, making it the second time in as many days that I had to be brought back from death’s door. As budding hobbies went, this one wasn’t the best.

  Face folded in a deep frown, Carter wrung out the washcloth beneath the running tap, tinging the water a dirty copper shade. Rewetting it, he resumed his delicate cleaning. “I have never felt more useless in my life. He had you pinned there, and I … froze.”

  “You mean you couldn’t single-handedly fend off the father of all vampires? What the hell am I even doing here, then? That’s my only reason for hanging out with you.” Catching his hand, I forced him to meet my eye. “Seriously, Carter, did you see how many people it took to pull him off me? Vampires and magi. I counted roughly thirteen before I lost the ability to decipher shapes.”

  Jaw tensed, he used the knuckle of his index finger to lift my chin. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. He nearly ripped your damned head off.”

  White-washing my face of all emotion, I blinked in his direction. “Tell me the truth … did he fuck up my hair? Because gushing throat wounds I can handle, jacked up hair I cannot.”

  With a bitter shake of his head, he swallowed down his boiling rage. “Can we please just … for a minute.”

  I took the washcloth from his hand, folded it into a makeshift gauze, and slapped it to my neck. “You must mean business. There was a complete lack of verbage in that sentence. Sloppy work, Mr. Reporter.”

  Filling his lungs, Carter glanced my way, his handsome features marred by sorrow. “You’re not the kind of girl who needs, or wants, to be saved. It would just make me feel better, if a situation ever got out of control, that I could … you know.”

  “Verbs are not your strong suit, today.” Scooting forward, I hopped off the edge of the white marble countertop.

  Carter caug
ht my wrist, and tugged me closer. “Protect you. All these life and death situations you’re thrust into every day, and I feel powerless to keep you safe.”

  The warmth of his breath coursed over my cheeks, awakening a tingle of awareness in my core that his lips lingered mere inches from mine. Gazing into the luminous pools of his azure stare, I toyed with questions I was in no way prepared to answer.

  “There are ways around that,” a curt voice stated from the doorway.

  Thankful for the interruption, I inserted a more comfortable distance between Carter and myself. Dragging my tongue over suddenly parched lips, I turned my attention to the petite frame in the doorway. “Rage, isn’t it? We would love to hear some deep magi wisdom on this matter.”

  “Drink vampire blood,” she stated flatly.

  Nodding in hopes there was more, it took me a beat to figure out that she was done speaking. “Okay … not quite the opus of wisdom I was hoping for.”

  “You drink it, it makes you less of a wuss … for a while.” One of the young magi’s shoulders rose and fell with detached interest—her tone monotone and emotionless. “All members of the V.H.M. partake in this ritual daily to make us worthy to serve Vlad and his Court. Being stronger and more focused has helped me battle my mortal sin of blinding aggression.”

  Carter cleared his throat to hide his snort of laughter. “Oh … you’re serious.”

  “If it wasn’t for vamp blood, I would have ripped that towel bar off the wall and beat you with it for laughing at me.” Rolling her shoulders, Rage straightened the hem of her shapeless black uniform. “But, here I am, rooted like an oak and not losing myself in the sweet release of a good violent outburst.”

  “Thank you?” Rapidly blinking my confusion, my voice rose just enough at the end to be a question.

  Grabbing the actual gauze and medical tape off the counter, Carter replaced my makeshift bandage with the real thing. “As to the blood, it’s not an option. I’m a recovering addict.”

  Rage lifted one brow, as if some early suspicion had been confirmed. “Gluttony in any form is one of the hardest sins to overcome, because it’s rooted in weakness of the spirit.”

  “He’s not weak.” Catching Carter’s stare, I held it firm while he fixed the last piece of tape in place. “Being surrounded by his addiction every day, without giving in, makes him one of the strongest people I know.”

  Filling her lungs, Rage expelled an exasperated sigh. “Then, I’m deeply sorry for your limited interaction with more substantial human beings.”

  “Can’t lash out with her fists, but she can still hurt people with her words.” Wadding up the wrapper from the gauze, Carter offered me a conspiratorial wink.

  “I’m bored talking to you both, now.” Rage grimaced. “Lord Vlad wants to speak with you. He’s in the Grand Hall. It’s down the right wing. Big hall, looks grand. You can’t miss it.” Offering no further explanation, she turned on the ball of her foot and strolled off in the opposite direction.

  Head tilted, I watched her leave. “Cold. Abrasive. I don’t know whether to hate her, or fall in love.”

  “You can swipe right on her later. Right now,” he extended his arm in invitation for me to lead the way, “the king of the undead awaits.”

  Hand drifting to my bandaged neck, I swallowed back a lump of trepidation. “Let’s hope it’s not to finish what he started.”

  Chapter Nine

  Vinx

  The throne room was silent as a grave.

  Every head bowed with respect.

  Against the farthest wall, sat a legend. Hand-carved from the trunk of a sequoia, the back of his throne swooped into two spikes that hinted at the Impaler’s legacy. Gone was the bat-faced monstrosity that lunged for my throat, replaced by a man that radiated with power and prestige. His posture demanded respect. The coal black three-piece suit chosen for him painted him as a gentleman of means. An outsider may have guessed him to be nothing more than a successful business man, had he not been suckling at the wrist of a curly-haired woman wearing a Donator Tresâ. Retracting his fangs with a flick of his head, he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief, then handed it to his meal. She pressed the fabric to the puncture wounds, and exchanged nods of acknowledgment with Vlad before backing from the room.

  A wall of onyx capes loomed behind Vlad, every member of the Court standing at attention for their awakened king. The ruby gleam of their eyes scanned the room, sizing up the intentions of all who entered. Edging up next to Micah and Finn, Carter and I added ourselves to the mass of followers.

  “Vincenza Larow, the first chemically manufactured vampire in creation.” Vlad’s voice was melted caramel over chilled ice cream. Lapping waves washing up on a white sand beach. A crackling fire on a crisp autumn night. Warm, inviting, and welcomingly seductive. “Through blood we of the original Nosferatu line are able to see through the eyes of others. When I drank of you, I saw the relationship you had with my son. One of kindness and caring. It pleases me to know he had people like you, and his triplets,” a pointed glance to Elodie and Thomas, “in his life. I owe you my gratitude.”

  Lifting my chin, I addressed the vampiric god. “Your son is a good man. No thanks required.”

  “He was … once.” Vlad rubbed his palms together, intense gaze traveling the length of me. “I think we can agree your last encounter with him argues otherwise. In that vision, I understood your motivation to wake me. Tell me, this artificial sulfur injection, is it a real and viable threat?”

  “My progeny and associate could speak on the effects,” Catching Micah by the elbow, I guided her forward. “They were both injected against their will.”

  Propping his elbow on the armrest of his throne, Vlad motioned for Finn to speak with the wave of one finger.

  “I live by your teachings, my Lord.” Creases of regret bracketed the edges of Finn’s down turned lips. “I feed on animals, or willing donors. But, the instant that concoction entered my system, I lost control. I killed without hesitation, and have regretted it every day since.”

  Vlad’s shoulders sank, a deep V of concern puckering his forehead. “Many within the Nosferatu brethren need no special medications to suffer a similar loss of inhibitions. What of you, child?” Brilliant, sea-foam green eyes flicked in Micah’s direction. “You were drugged, as well?”

  “Yes, your honor. I mean … my Lord? Your majesty? Shit, I’m really nervous.” Micah rambled, the tip of her tongue anxiously fiddling with the hoop in her lip. “I don’t remember the details. I just remember an overwhelming hunger, and waking up covered in blood.”

  “I must reiterate, sire, that these are faithful followers of your wisdom.” Good hand clasped over his heart, Thomas boldly spoke on their behalf. “They would do no harm intentionally.”

  Raising one hand, Vlad silenced further explanation. “That’s quite enough. Like so many conflicts that have come before, this has escalated due to the nature of our desires. As long as there have been vampires, there has been a torch and pitchfork wielding crowd eager to destroy us. If we were free from the curse of our own ghoulish desires, they could not be used against us. Yet, here we are, once more. You should not have woken me for this. This battle will play throughout history time and again, until the humans finally succeed and wipe us from existence.”

  Head cocked, I peered at the man known as The Son of the Dragon. The physical similarities between he and Rau were easy to spot. They shared the same stature, narrow nose, and strong-jaw line. Unfortunately, it seemed that was where the family resemblance ended. Rau put himself at risk time and again to fight for his people, marching on Washington in search of equal rights. His father, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered to rise from his decorated seat of power.

  “That’s a bleak outlook,” I lobbed back, forcing a tight smile. “We came here, because your people are being tortured and killed. They’re l
iving in fear. Knowing you’re awake could offer them hope when they need it most.”

  “You came here,” Vlad’s tone sharpened with a dangerous edge, each word slicing to the bone, “in search of war. Lie to yourself all you like, I know the truth. You meant to unleash me on your enemies that I may exact your justice. I have played the part of weapon before, copil. I will not do it again, for anyone. I apologize for biting you without consent, Miss Larow, and your wasted trip here. You may have a day to rest and make your travel arrangements. Then, I want you gone. I will not have this pointless crusade brought to my door.”

  Ushered from the throne room, Ego shut the door in our faces with an arrogant smirk twisting the corners of his lips. Fangs threatening, I spun on my team. “I liked that so-called Prince of Darkness a hell of a lot better when he was trying to rip my throat out. At least then he seemed to have a set of balls on him! Jeremy, Rau, and the entire Nosferatu population are suffering! Meanwhile, his royal lowness won’t budge from his fancy ass chair!”

  “Throne,” Micah corrected.

  “Whatever!” Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I paced the width of the hall. “Okay, it’s like a math problem. We just need to work it to find the right solution. That’s our thing, it’s what we do. So, what’s our move?”

  “Kick Ego’s teeth in?” Elodie’s nostrils twitched her irritation. “I’ll gladly volunteer.”

  “Let’s call that Plan B,” Thomas suggested, placing a calming hand on his sister’s back. “Plan A needs to be getting Rau back. He always knows how to spin us out of nosedive situations.”

  “That’s it!” I jabbed a finger Thomas’s way, eyes bulging with possibility. “We need to think like Rau. Put ourselves in his head. What would he do?”

  A beat of silence, then …

  “He would find a way to get his hands on a vile of that sulfur.” Arms crossed, Elodie chewed on the inside of her cheek.