by Keary Taylor
“I’ve found the older I get, the less need I have for sleep,” he says. “Care to take a walk with me?”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “It’s the middle of the day.”
He produces something from his pocket. “After such a long life, I’ve found ways to adapt.”
He straps something on and I notice at first they look like a normal pair of sunglasses, but on the backs of the lenses, it’s like goggles, totally blacked out, not allowing any sunlight through.
“Impressive,” I say as we turn out through the garage onto the cobblestone driveway. “Did you make them yourself or can I commission some made for my House members?”
“You’re an interesting creature, Alivia,” he says. “You always put your family first, but there are multiple motives.”
“Am I so obvious?” I ask, trying to sound as if I’m joking, but suddenly worried it’s truth.
“Probably not to most of them,” he says. He folds his hands behind his back. It’s an overcast day, not the most beautiful to be wandering the grounds. I see Dave, one of the landscapers, down a ways, trimming some hedges. “But I’ve been around politics a long time.”
“Have you always been a spy for the King?” I ask as we walk out over the wet grass. “Or have you held other positions?”
Raheem looks out over the landscape, but I study his face. So beautiful and mysterious.
“I am the offspring of the seventh son, you of the third. The seventh son had five sons of his own. My niece rules over a House in Ukraine. My cousins rule in Borneo, Columbia. And myself, and seven of my cousins are members of the Guard, more than any of the other son’s families. We are…apt for the positions the King offers.”
“How so?” I ask.
He glances at me, his eyes completely hidden from my view. “We not only have Royal vampire blood in our veins, we are heirs and princes and princesses of worldly royalty as well.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I have to admit, you’ve got my interest.”
He smiles at me and there’s something lustful and wicked about it. My heart does a small skip into my throat. “My mother was the daughter of what was Saudi Arabia’s richest sheik. My father’s uncle was a pharaoh. The seventh son valued power. Connections. And he taught his children. Our line has ties to leadership and royalty from every major empire throughout history. At least from the inception of vampirism.”
“That’s…amazing,” I admit in wonder. I’ve always been fascinated by Egyptian history. And here I am talking with the descendent of a pharaoh. “What about the third son, what was that family like?”
“They were the peace keepers,” Raheem says as we loop around the house. We start toward the north end of the property. Out this direction are the old dairy houses, the slave’s quarters, and the ruins of a building I no longer recognize. “They were committed to family. The third son had fourteen of his own sons and I’ve heard he had thirty-one daughters.”
“That’s quite the posterity,” I say in wonder. “How long ago did he die?”
“Oh, Dorian is not dead,” Raheem says with amusement as he gives me a side glance. “He’s very much still alive, as is Malachi, the seventh son. They still rule Houses, Dorian over all of Russia and Malachi over Egypt and most of the Middle East.”
My eyes grow wide. They have to be thousands of years old. It’s hard to imagine. Harder still to know the King is older. “What about the five sons who rebelled against the King?”
“Two of them remain,” Raheem says. We stop outside the barn that no longer houses horses, but equipment. “But they don’t have contact with the Royals. Their exile is sure.”
“Did Cyrus kill the other three?” I ask, knowing my answer.
“Slowly,” Raheem answers as he arches an eyebrow.
I sigh and lean against the barn, folding my arms over my chest. “There is so much history to your kind. It’s difficult to wrap my head around it all.”
“Our kind, I hope for your sake, you mean.” His voice is amused but dangerous.
“Not just yet,” I say, feeling all my defenses rising back up. Markov’s warning to watch everything I say comes back to mind and I’m starting to understand why it was given now.
“I’d love to create a family tree someday,” I say as I stand once again and start back toward the House. “See where the connections meet, how far back the generations go. We’re all cousins I suppose.”
Raheem gives a laugh, and it contains the hint of a snort that’s kind of endearing. “Calling us all cousins is like calling cavemen cousins to Queen Elizabeth. There have been thousands of years in our gene pool and continents worth of DNA to spread from. You and I are no more closely related than you and anyone else in the Middle East.”
It’s interesting, and overwhelming to think of it that way. But a relief. Ian was a descendent of some former royal through one of the five exiled sons. It’s good not to feel like I made out with my third cousin.
“The King does have a colossal mural wall in his palace in Austria though,” Raheem continues. “It’s quite impressive. Every Royal, as far as has been known is on the wall. Hundreds, thousands, of names. Soon, if you are who we think you are, your name will be added.”
“I’d like to see that,” I say before I fully think out what seeing it would imply.
“The King’s entire palace is something to see, but somewhere you’d better hope you never have to visit,” Raheem says darkly.
“Why is that?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
“All trials and executions happen at the palace. A visit there, unless you are a member of the Court, always ends in death.”
Goosebumps flash across my skin as I imagine dark halls lined with bones, the floor rivers of blood, and dark and demented princes and princesses feeding on humans.
I shake the feeling of darkness that creeps over me and change the subject. “Have you ever met the Queen?”
Raheem looks at me carefully and I know he’s studying me for the Queen. “Just once. She died not long after that time.”
“What was she like?”
The air grows markedly cooler, the sky dimming as heavy clouds cover the sun. The temperatures have to be close to freezing now. I shiver, goosebumps flashing over my skin once again.
Raheem shrugs his jacket off and slips it over my shoulders. I thank him, enveloped in his scent. Even that is exotic.
“Sevan is…quiet. She’s very observant. She’s kind but she is also very fit to be a ruler,” he says as we continue our walk back to the House. “And she loves her husband, there is no question about that. But there’s always…a sadness in her eyes. This is not the life she wished for.”
The curses. The King cursed himself and her when he forced his vampirism on her.
“That’s so terrible,” I say, my insides sinking. “To be forced into an immortal life, only to die over and over again.”
Raheem nods his head. “There’s nothing simple about their relationship. But there is love. And when she’s alive, when they are together, the King is a different man.”
“Not so scary?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
“Something like that,” Raheem replies with a smile.
By this point we’ve reached the House again. There’s a sense of…ease, that’s formed between Raheem and I, and I don’t have a logical explanation for it, considering the threat he’s posed the last month and more to me.
But we walk together, calm and casual. And just as we walk back into the cover of the garage, the first snowflake falls from the sky.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I’M PULLED from sleep by a loud knocking. My brain is foggy and I feel slightly panicked. There’s the faint taste of a nightmare on my tongue.
“The Sheriff is here for you, Alivia,” Anna says as she walks into my room just as I’m sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. “He doesn’t look happy.”
My brows furrow and my brain leaps to wakefulness. Without a word, I climb out of bed and head downstairs.
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“No one has touched a single person in this town,” Nial tells Luke, his accent strong and calm. “I’ve made sure that everyone has been more than fed.”
“What’s going on?” I demand as I step onto the cold marble floor. Goosebumps instantly flash over my skin. It seems we can never get the house warm enough these days.
“Can you explain why Corbin is claiming his youngest brother Tony was drained by a vampire last night, why he woke back up just a few hours later, and why there’s a trail of blood leading from his house, straight to your front door?” Luke is seething. “I thought you said you had a handle on your House, Alivia!”
I yank open the front door, and shock pushes me back a step. First about the sheet of white that covers the ground. It’s not deep, only an inch or so, but the fact that it’s there is unexpected. And second, over the few, but very distinct drops of blood that lead from my front door and out toward the gate. They stand out like a harsh beacon.
I turn back to the gathering members of my house, who stand back from the dim light that is pouring in from outside.
“It wasn’t me,” Cameron says, instantly defensive.
“It wasn’t Anna or I either,” Lillian chimes in.
“I made you a promise I have kept,” Markov says as he slips his hands into his pockets and the expression on his face is very angry.
Raheem steps down from the stairs up above, wearing his sunglasses.
“Was this you?” I ask. I make sure to keep all accusations out of my voice.
“Hunting in a town with a House is always frowned upon, threatening too much exposure,” he says as he descends the stairs. “It was not I.”
“That blood looks pretty damn suspicious,” Luke says, his expression angry. “And whoever it was wasn’t near careful enough. Corbin didn’t get a look at who it was that attacked Tony, but he saw his body drop and someone disappear out the window.”
“Can I borrow those for just a second?” Samuel asks, indicating Raheem’s shades. He slips them off and hands them to Samuel, who puts them on and steps outside.
“And who’s this?” Luke asks, looking at Raheem like he’s a dirty sock he found crusted to the bottom of his laundry basket.
“The one who’s been spying on me,” I answer absent-mindedly. I step toward Samuel, watching what he’s doing.
He stands in the snow out in the driveway, sniffing at it. He walks out along the path it creates, stopping here and there to smell. And then he disappears, only to reappear in a blur in the foyer once again. He shuts the door behind him, once again engulfing us in dim light.
“It was Micah,” Samuel says. “I mean, I’ve never met the guy the blood came from, but I can smell Micah all over out there. My guess is he saved some of the blood he drained from Tony and dribbled it all over the place. Jasmine is trying to frame you, Alivia.”
Luke lets out an annoyed breath through his nose and shakes his head. “This is just another move in your sick feud with her. And someone is already dead.”
“I thought we were finished,” I defend myself. “She’s lost. She has to know that. I thought…”
“You thought wrong, Alivia!” Luke yells.
And in a flash, Nial stands between Luke and I. Anna is at my side and every one of them has formed a tight circle around me.
“You better chill out, bro,” Cameron says.
“This is the wrong House to come to and start losing your temper,” Samuel backs him up.
“We will take care of this,” Anna says quietly. She holds Luke’s eyes intensely, and I swear some kind of unspoken conversation happens between them in a total of four seconds.
Interesting.
Luke’s eyes snap back to me. “Do not let this turn into an all-out war.” He’s still breathing hard, his expression angry. “It’s still my job to protect this town.”
“We will handle it,” I say, taking a step forward.
Luke studies me hard, and I think I see something shift behind his eyes. I think his opinion of me has just shifted and it’s something I will never be able to change.
“You know, this isn’t just about you anymore,” Luke says. “The town has turned against the Wards too.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, and everything in me turns to ice.
Luke shakes his head in anger. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I hear Ian’s handling it.”
His eyes dart from mine, meeting all my House members. Finally, he turns for the door. Just before he steps out, he swears and shakes his head.
The second he’s gone, Anna turns back to us. “You do realize what Jasmine is doing, right?”
With Luke gone, the anger is finally allowed to build inside of me. “She’s trying to turn the entire town against me again.”
Anna shakes her head. “Not just that. She’s trying to rebuild her House.”
The Debt. I had almost forgotten about the Bitten and their compulsion to serve those who turned them. “This could be a problem. One or two isn’t going to do the trick. This isn’t going to stop with just one Bitten.” I close my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. “I have to ask: do any of you have any Bitten with Debts to you?”
Lillian shakes her head. “Jasmine almost always turned them herself,” she says. “Sometimes Micah did it, or Christian. But no one else. At least not on purpose.”
I nod. I want to give Markov a side-glance, because I’m sure he’s turned a few, and I have to wonder what became of them.
“We’ll go to Jasmine’s House tonight,” Anna says, looking at Samuel who nods that he’s in. And Markov. “We will take care of the problem.”
Take care of it. I have a feeling that means they’ll be walking in with stakes and putting down any Bitten they find.
And I freeze for a moment. They’re talking about killing people who didn’t get any choice in this. They’re the ones who were caught unsuspecting in the crossfire.
But there’s nothing we can do about their unwilling loyalty to Jasmine’s House. She has revenge on her mind. There’s no telling what she will do with them. They won’t have a choice but to do what she says.
“Do what you have to,” I say.
With the nod of her head, she, Samuel, and Markov take off to prepare.
“The creation of more than just a few Bitten is highly frowned upon,” Raheem says. I turn to him. He’s wearing a stark white tunic today, turban to match. And he looks stunning. “Really, their entire species existence is unwanted but an unfortunate side effect of our kind’s thirst. This competitor of yours should be dealt with harshly.”
“We will handle it,” I say with annoyance. I turn and walk back up the stairs to shower and begin plotting once more.
IN THE DARKEST PART OF the night, just before the sun starts rising, I sit in the library with Nial, Lillian, and Cameron. We’re quiet, listening for signs of attack or war, or whatever Jasmine has planned.
I do not know what is being said about me in town. This damage will be very difficult to repair.
At 5:29, I hear a whooshing sound, and the front door opens, in stepping the rest of our House.
“They’re hiding,” Anna says as she steps into the room, Samuel and Markov just behind her. “There’s no one at the House. But there’s blood there.”
“A lot of blood,” Markov says. And I see the glow in his eyes. The black veins are slightly raised around them. He’s thirsty.
“Looks like they’ve changed more than just one person,” Samuel says.
“The blood was fresh,” Anna says. She paces the room very slowly, her focus turned inward. “I’d guess they turned at least one more person yesterday, during the day. They must have known retaliation was coming and took off.”
“You couldn’t follow a trail?” I ask. I’m somewhat annoyed. I wanted this dealt with swiftly.
“The snow makes that difficult.” And she looks up at me with shame.
The deep, hard breathing pulls my eyes from her to Markov. He’s staring at me with glowi
ng eyes, his nostrils flared.
“Markov.” I say it meaning to sound commanding, to snap him out of his desire for my blood, but it comes out questioning.
“I will return soon,” he says. And without a word, he turns, and walks out the door.
“It’s been difficult for him,” Lillian says. “Controlling his bloodlust like he has.”
“I never thought I’d see him like he is,” Anna says, shaking her head. “You’ve trained him well.”
“Markov isn’t some dog to me,” I say as Raheem walks in. “What are we going to do about Jasmine?”
“You put her down like the traitor she is,” he says coldly as he walks up to me. He comes close. Too close for comfort. His breath warms my chest, his eyes boring into mine. “If you wish to fulfill this role as leader and regent of this area, it is your job to deal with threats that may expose our kind. This woman is your problem, Alivia Ryan.”
Hot coals ignite in my chest. I don’t like being told what to do, I’m discovering this about myself lately. I lift a hand, place it against his chest, ignoring how firm and sculpted it is, and determinedly push him back away from me.
“I may not be the descendent of a pharaoh or a sheik, but you will respect that I am in fact a royal and grant me my personal space,” I say in a low voice. My eyes match his, glare for glare.
The black veins grow on his face as his eyes flare red.
Nial, Anna, and Samuel instantly surround me, blocking Raheem’s path to me.
Raheem gives a slow smile, though his eyes do not dim. Instead, I see a shift. Pride. Hunger. Admiration. “Oh how the King will toy with you,” he says. “Just before he kills you.”
Hisses fill the room and every pair of eyes but mine glow red.
“I do not fear the King’s intent to kill me,” I say, stepping from between Nial and Anna. “But I am not some play thing to be poised and tossed around.”
Raheem’s smile grows and that look in his eyes deepens. Slowly, slow enough to convey the message that he means no harm, he raises his hand and brushes his fingers over my left cheek. “You are such a glorious creature, Alivia. It seems almost a shame for you to resurrect. You’re such a unique human.”