Ruled

by Keira Blackwood

  Chapter Eight

  Ashley

  With a stretch of my legs, my toes slipped out from beneath the covers and brushed against a bit of silk sheet that was icy cold. I recoiled, and curled up in the warmth of the fluffy down comforter. Nothing ever felt warm enough anymore. It was probably the only drawback of becoming a vampire—no body heat.

  A cracking sound carried across the quiet room, and I looked to the source. It was the start of a fire in the hearth. Ronaldo knew just how I liked it. Or Orlando. Or whoever. I didn’t ask how they delegated this kind of thing. All that mattered was it was done.

  I bundled my comforter around me and hopped down from the bed. Fibers from the thick, cream rug tickled between my toes. Each step was met with soft give, until I reached the edge of the carpet.

  This was it, the icy stretch. I ran for the fire, touching the cold hardwood as little as possible. And I made it. By the hearth, I plopped down in my cozy blanket and tossed in another log. Sparks flew up from the little flames, like fireflies. I stared at the flickering fire and let its heat soak into my bones.

  Shades of red and orange danced, making my face pleasantly warm. I stared and stared, replaying the night before in my head.

  He’d just stood there, green-eyed, hard-jawed, and ridiculously calm as I’d blasted him with my angry air punch. Tyr Ulfhednar—experienced, powerful, and quite possibly the end of me.

  What happened if he changed his mind? What happened if he decided he wanted to take my place? Would anyone defend me? Could I defeat him alone?

  The whole thing made my head ache. I decided instead to focus on what had gone right. Walter and Bennet’s sire had said he didn’t want the throne. And I’d had a blast with my bestie watching a marathon of Cake Queens. The chicks on there were twice as crazy as those on Sassy Bitches. It was a new favorite, for sure. That was how I chose to start my day—focusing on the positive.

  I tossed off my blanket, dressed, grabbed a packet of blood from Ronaldo, and skipped downstairs to greet the day. Well, the night.

  It was Orlando who stood by the closed door to the throne room. I’d expected it to be open for Visit Me time.

  “What’s up, Orlando?” I asked.

  The shirtless hunk looked at me with his typical stone-cold expressionless face. “No grievances yet this night.”

  “Sweet.” I tore into my warm blood packet and enjoyed some kinda-fresh O negative. Some seemed to prefer one type over another, but they all tasted fine to me.

  With no angry jerks to deal with this evening, I figured I’d beat Violet to the gym and get in a little practice. It’d be nice to get there before her for a change, especially since it was me who lived in the building.

  The estate was pleasantly quiet, thanks to the fact that everybody was a vampire. It was the opposite of a college dorm. There were still a lot of people around, but instead of pushing and being all yelly in the halls, everyone had dignity and moved like they weren’t really there at all. It was grander than I’d ever dreamed, back when I’d only read about the supernatural in books and blogs. Not everyone was obsessed with black, like I’d thought they’d be. Most of them were pretty mopey though, or at least broody. Would I be that way after a couple of lifetimes? I shivered at the thought.

  Giggling echoed down the otherwise silent hall. I turned the corner, expecting to find an uncharacteristically happy Violet. Instead, I found my dopplegal. Dopplegirl? Whatever. It was her.

  Angel’s yellowy-white hair hung down over her shoulders. She wore one of Charlie’s band shirts as a dress. And her big old smile slid right off her face when she stopped just short of slamming into me. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth opened wordlessly. Then closed.

  Footsteps pounded down the hall, laughter with it. Charlie popped up from behind Angel, and scooped her up into his arms. She squealed as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

  Not only had he not listened to me, but something worse had happened—I heard no heartbeat.

  I cleared my throat, nice and loud.

  The pair looked up at me. Charlie set his girlfriend down and moved between her and me, as if to defend her. Like I was going to hurt her.

  “I thought you were going to handle this,” I said.

  “I did.”

  “I don’t think you understood what I said.” I searched his face for a sign of his thoughts. There was none.

  “You said to fix the whole human-in-the-vampire-lair situation,” he said. “I did. No humans are here.” Then he leaned closer. “She’s one of us now.”

  “Wow,” I said. There were no words.

  “I’m in love,” he said, pulling her close to his side. “We’re in love.”

  I looked to Angel. She certainly seemed enamored. Was it possible for Charlie to find his amor aeternus so soon? As vampires went, he wasn’t even that much older than me.

  “That’s nice,” I said. “I have somewhere else to be.”

  “You’re not going to tell Walter, are you?” he asked.

  I squinched up my face and wondered how this pretty idiot had survived being Walter’s progeny for twenty years.

  “You are,” I said. “You know him. It’s better to tell him now, than let him find out later. Treat it like a Band-Aid or whatever, rip it fast and it’s over.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” Charlie asked. I could see the wheels turning in his head, with the way he looked up like the answer was somewhere in the strands of blond hair that hung down over his forehead.

  “She means you should tell him now,” Angel said.

  It was a nice surprise. Maybe she would turn out all right. I hoped Charlie knew what he was doing with Angel. I hoped she really was his amor aeternus, but I wouldn't hold my breath just in case. It was never a good idea to trust his judgment.

  “Yep,” I said. “And congrats on finding love. I wish you both the best.”

  With that, I walked away. I meant it, too. I still cared for Charlie, in a brother-sister kinda way. I cared about all of them—Walter, Bennet, Violet, Charlie, and of course, Hannah. I wanted them all to be happy. And they were, everyone finding true love, a partner for eternity. It was like Cupid had let loose all over this place, hitting everyone but me. That was fine. Being a vampire was enough for now. Queen of vampires. It was all I needed.

  Still, when I left the pair, I couldn’t help but feel a little less enthusiastic than I had been. I mean, Hannah had to go home at some point, and it was back to just me.

  No more mopiness. What I needed was a good workout with my trainer buddy. Violet was sure to give me the kind of beaten-to-a-pulp exercise that required a good nap, and no time to think.

  But when I walked into the gym, it wasn’t Violet that I found, but Walter.

  He looked like he always did—stiff, polished, and just as likely to disembowel me as say hello. Maybe he was distantly related to lions, like twice removed from a lion shifter family, because he had that waiting in the shadows thing down.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I cracked my neck and dropped my sweater in the corner. My sensible yoga pants and tank top were perfect for training. That’s why he was here, right? To fill in for Violet? His fancy suit didn’t tell me one way or another. That was just typical Walter.

  “Good evening,” he said. “I apologize for interrupting your routine.”

  “It’s good,” I said. “I’m happy to spar with you, too. It’s been a while.”

  I stretched my arms, rolled my shoulders. He just stood there, in the corner, all creepy and Walter-like.

  “I haven’t come for—”

  I considered making the first strike, throwing him across the room mid-sentence, just like old times. But that wouldn’t be a very fair fight, and I needed a real challenge.

  “Ashley?” He looked at me the way he did when he was frustrated, all lined around the eyes, and tight-lipped.

  “I’m waiting,” I said, and raised my hands. “No worries, no attacking—I’m listening.”

>   He raised a brow. Ha, he hadn’t expected that.

  “I’ve come to discuss Tyr’s return.”

  “Ugh.” I sighed and let my shoulders drop. “That’s all any of you want to talk about. I already know, he’s back, you love him. He’s your vampire dad, and you want to see him back where he’s supposed to be.”

  “Not exactly—”

  It was my turn to give him a look. I hoped it said ‘I see through you, dude.’ Not sure how it came out, because he seemed unfazed.

  “You’re telling me that’s just Bennet then?” I asked, not believing him for a second.

  “It is easy to say how a situation should turn out, much more difficult in practice.”

  “You’re telling me,” I replied.

  “If Tyr is truly content with the current situation,” Walter said, “I ask only that you make him feel at home here.”

  “You mean in Scarlet Harbor?” I asked. “Because a lot of vampires are perfectly at home here, and I don’t see why…”

  There was something in his expression. That’s not what he meant.

  “Ah,” I said. “You mean let him stay in this building, in the estate.”

  Walter tightened his lips again. Tyr was already here.

  “He’s already here, and no one even talked to me about this?” I asked. “Bennet assumes I should just roll over while Tyr takes my place. You…you didn’t even have the courtesy to talk to me about giving him a room.”

  “You would have said no.”

  I could sense more.

  “You don’t know that,” I said. I didn't know what I would have said. “You didn’t give me the chance.”

  His tired and frustrated expression told me all I needed to know. It wasn’t about what I said. It wasn’t up to me.

  I sighed. “You should catch up to your progeny,” I said. “Charlie has something important to tell you.”

  “Promise me you’ll offer him every courtesy, Ashley,” Walter said. “Please.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll play nice. But seriously, Charlie’s on the way out. If you don’t catch him now, he’ll probably keep avoiding you.”

  Walter closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall.

  It was true—he needed to know about Angel. Also, I really didn’t want to discuss Tyr any more. I didn't want to know where he was hanging out, or anything else Walter might want from me. I’d just woken, and that little knot of pain was forming again, right between my eyes.

  “Violet will be here soon,” Walter said. Then without another word, he was gone in a gust of black wind.

  I grabbed a katana from the wall, spread my feet, and practiced the forms that my mentors had taught me. I did my best to let everything else go, to hear nothing but the sound of the blade cutting through still air.

  In the darkness of my mind, I pushed out everything but that set of kind green eyes that stared back at me. When I stared back, I felt something. It was wonder and warmth, it was a magnetic pull, and it was a sense that said he wasn’t my enemy.

  A distant metal clang echoed through the quiet. Downstairs. Tyr was downstairs.

  I returned the katana to its place on the wall and went to find the man I couldn’t stop thinking out, the man who everyone wanted to talk about, the man who shared my house.

  The hardwood floor stopped at the spiral staircase to the basement. Cold stone steps met my bare feet, and it felt like I was descending into the dungeon of an ancient castle. I guessed I kind of was.

  The lighting was sparse, only torches. One of these days, I’d order it upgraded. These weren’t medieval times, and we could afford real lights. I’d only been down here twice—once when I first moved in, and again when we’d stopped the plot to overthrow me. Arthur Evans was still down here in his cell.

  Metal clanged once again, and voices whispered, though I couldn’t make them out. Was it all just Evans talking to himself? With every step further into the dark, I felt less certain that it had been Tyr I’d heard at all.

  I rounded a curve and found rows of empty cells. Only, the one at the end wasn’t meant to be empty. Where the hell was Evans?

  White-hot pain pierced my back, and my chest tightened. I twisted on my heel, but everything blurred. This wasn’t right. Something was terribly wrong. A circle of dampness spread outward through the fabric of my shirt.

  “Not so tough now, huh Princess?” The voice echoed through my head, a man’s voice.

  What was happening?

  My legs grew limp, and I crumpled to the ground, only to find two faces looking down at me. They were contoured in anger, and pity.

  Rat-faced Arthur Evans was out of his cell. He did this. I stared at the other man, a man I’d trusted with my life—Orlando.

  “Don’t gloat,” Orlando said. “It’s unbecoming.”

  Agony and paralysis seeped down toward my fingers, my toes. This was it—the end.

  I remembered that line from Shakespeare or whoever. It fit the betrayal I felt. “Et tu, Orlando? Et tu?”

  As everything returned to black, I heard him reply in an exasperated voice, “I’m Ronaldo.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tyr

  The humming stopped, and the man behind the music grew silent. It was possible he’d grown tired of song, and instead had opted for a quiet rest. The hole in the pit of my stomach told me that was not the case.

  I tucked two of the seaxes back into their box, hidden beneath neatly-folded slacks and shirts. The third blade belonged on my hip. I slid the sheath into its place on my belt. There was a balance to it, a feeling of rightness to having my seax back. I replaced the box, and listened.

  The sounds of jostling metal echoed through the empty halls. I followed the noise, with measured footsteps, each as soundless as the last.

  “Took you long enough.” The voice was a whisper, only audible because of the shape of the megaphone-like corridor.

  “Had to wait for word from up north.” The second voice was deeper than the first.

  “I get that you answer to Nero and not to me,” said the first, “but the conditions in here are shit.”

  “Like it’s any better wearing this, and having to deal with her?” the second asked. “I’d have rather—”

  Their whispers cut short. Something had changed. Had they heard me? No, not likely.

  There were shuffling sounds and a change in light, as a shadow covered the glow of torchlight. I looked around the corner, to the hall of cells.

  Two men stood, looking down toward the floor. One wore a torn and rumpled suit, the other was shirtless.

  The scent of freshly-drawn blood was overpowering. The source—all I could see were two small, bare feet.

  “Stab her again,” the man in the suit said. “I need to be sure.”

  “If you don’t want to split her heart,” said the other, “I’ll take the risk of eating the poison for a chance at Yeke’s power—”

  My movement was smooth, so practiced it was as natural as speech. The pearl hilt was cool in my palm, smooth against my fingertips. The blade was as sharp as it had ever been, the cut—like butter.

  Following the path of my blade, blood splattered across my shirt and the stone wall. It had taken only one practiced movement to end his eternal life. Decapitation was quick, efficient. The guard’s head hit the floor before the body realized it was meant to collapse.

  The other, the prisoner, looked to me with wide eyes just in time to meet the same fate as the guard. One stab to the neck, a second to the heart. It felt as if the world moved in slow motion, the nuisances of my form missed by those before me. They wielded the reaction time of snails. It was over before they sensed the danger they'd been in.

  The scent of blood filled my nostrils, fueled excitement within my veins. Violence was my most basic nature, awakened by every bloody deed. The white of my shirt was soaked in red, my hands covered in blood. It was as exciting as it was sickening.

  My fangs throbbed with the need to feed, and then I
saw her.

  With her eyes closed, she looked at peace. There were no lines by her eyes, no sign of pain or concern, as her body lay lax. She appeared so small, so fragile on the wide stone floor. Waves of flaxen hair fanned from her face like a halo, and the dark puddle beneath her grew. The sight of her pulled me back to what was important, grounded me to reality, to the present.

  Careful to move her as little as possible, I scooped Ashley into my arms. She was light, and didn’t so much as flinch as lifted her. The latter was not a good sign.

  I raced up the stairs, with speed I’d not used in longer than I could remember, to the bedroom that had once been mine. It was different from the way I remembered, yet similar enough to feel like my room. I placed the queen upon the mattress and called out for help.

  “Guards!”

  Two men entered. Both were shirtless, like the vampire I’d dealt with in the basement.

  “Bring me a human,” I said.

  The two men looked to the bed, then to each other, their uncertainty clear. I did not need them to think. I needed them to obey.

  “Bring me a human now,” I said.

  “We’re not supposed to bring humans to the Estate,” said the guard with the brown hair.

  “If she dies,” I said, “you die.”

  The blond ran from the room and returned with a warm, smooth, plastic pouch. The crimson fluid inside would likely sustain Ashley, but not for long. Not if the blade was poisoned.

  I took the pouch and returned to Ashley’s side. I pierced the corner with the point of my fang, then tipped the bag between her lips. She lay unmoving, though she did not gag as the blood slid down her throat.

  Human blood would keep her alive, but shifter was needed to bring her back. That’s when I remembered Bennet’s mate, the black-haired she-wolf. I considered running to my progeny’s home. It would take but a moment, yet, I could not leave her.

  The home that was no longer mine was filled with strangers, any of whom could be a co-conspirator. Like hell. I would not leave her side until this was resolved, until she was well.