by Kayleigh Sky
“Okay. I’m your tester,” he told Isaac. “No serving anybody before I have a taste.”
“With a moon lace tart,” Isaac said.
“No, no. I’m testing for ice-cream quality. Don’t wanna ruin my taste buds.”
“Right.” Isaac smiled despite himself, took the pot off the heat, and headed into the pantry. He found the cardamom in a cupboard and filled a bowl with ice. Then he stepped back into the kitchen and froze. Shit.
Jessa.
But Jessa stood staring at the table. Staring at—
Moon lace tarts.
“Those are for dinner,” Isaac said.
Jessa twisted his lips doubtfully but tore his gaze away. “You’re in trouble.”
Isaac sighed. “I figured.”
He turned to his ice cream, added a good pinch of cardamom, strained it into another bowl, and set the bowl in the ice. He looked back at Jessa, who said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Somehow in the thirty seconds Isaac had turned away, he’d snagged a tart. Dot darted a wide-eyed stare between them.
Isaac sighed. “Come on. I can take a break.”
He went around the other side of the table, ignoring Jessa’s attempts to glare and munch on his treat at the same time. He strode down the hall to the servants’ quarters, opened his door, and kicked away the knot of rope Rowena chewed on. “This is my room.”
Jessa popped the rest of his tart into his mouth, entered, and gazed around. “It’s bigger than your room at Wen’s.”
“I know. That was big enough though.” He dropped onto the side of his bed. “You can sit. And I know you’re mad at me.”
Jessa pulled one of the wingback chairs closer, and gazed at the floor as he sat. “What are all these toys? Do you have a dog?”
Isaac smiled. “Yeah. Rowena. She spends more time with Will and Dennis though. They usually work outside. Asa gave her to me.”
Jessa smiled, but it was quick and brittle. “That was nice of him.”
Isaac sighed. “You’re still my best friend.”
Hurt pinched Jessa’s eyes. “I don’t know how.”
“Jessa—”
“I did something wrong. You just left.”
Isaac shook his head but didn’t get anything out before Jessa sprang up and strode to the window. Isaac stared at him. Was he really mad?
But when Jessa spoke, his voice was sad. “I remember when I first saw this garden. I came here with Otto, and I thought for sure I was going to lose him. I never thought I’d lose you too.”
“What are you talking about? I’m your friend for life, Jessa. After everything we’ve been through you oughta know that. You haven’t lost me or Otto. You’re gonna marry Otto, and I will always be your friend. Stop thinking you aren’t enough.”
Jessa turned back, his mouth half open. “Me? You deserve to be happy too. I thought I was giving you that. You had a family. A place of your own.” He swung his arm at the pale walls. “This is nice, but you had a whole suite of rooms. People who cared about you. You’re lucky you ended up here.”
Isaac drew a breath. He didn’t merely end up here. What was he supposed to say though? I’m hopelessly in love with my fated—who happens to be your brother, by the way—but he has no use for me.
That was whom he’d run away for. Following somebody who had better things to do than think about Isaac. Mine. You are mine.
“I didn’t actually leave you.”
“Oh, well excuse me.”
He sighed again and rested his elbows on his knees, picking at his thumbnail. “Like I said, you had Otto.”
Jessa’s bewilderment was palpable. “So?”
He straightened. “I don’t know. I guess… I was taking up space, Jessa. You always do the right thing and giving me a place to stay was you doing that.”
Jessa gaped, mouth wide open. His teeth clicked when he clamped his jaws shut. “Well, you know what? This is you being selfish.”
“Self—”
“Yes! You let me think— Well, that something awful had happened to you. That you were dead or something. After Otto found you, I thought you just didn’t care about me anymore.”
Isaac’s heart sank.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know. I know you didn’t, but Isaac, you don’t think you matter. You have no idea how scared and hurt I was. You thought you could just disappear and nobody would care. Well, I care. You matter to me, and I’d do anything for you.”
Jessa’s words hit him like sledgehammers. The last thing Isaac wanted was to hurt him. To hurt anyone. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
Jessa plopped into his chair and sighed. “That tart was good. Did you make it?”
The weird shift in conversation discombobulated Isaac, but he didn’t mind the break. He shook his head. “No. I’m—I was learning how to cook.”
“You’d be good at it. You can do anything you want to do. You kept me alive, you know? I counted on you for everything.”
Warmth filled Isaac’s chest. “Not everything, Jessa.” He smiled. “You’ve been a light in my life for a long time.”
Jessa sank back, his breath leaving him in a sigh. “I don’t get why you had to leave so sudden though.”
Isaac chewed his lip. “Being needed is important to me.”
“I need you.”
Jessa frowned after the words left his mouth. His russet hair had darkened in the dusk. He wore it loose with braids, but most of the braids had come apart. He was stronger than full humans, but not as strong or as big as a vampire. But it didn’t matter. He was strong in other ways. His family was close and torn and oddly romantic. They loved big, and maybe Isaac was too small for Rune.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Jessa jumped up and plopped down beside him, leaning his shoulder against Isaac’s. “Don’t cut me off. I love you, and I’m sorry about your friend.”
“You would have liked him. He reminded me of Bettina. Grumpy but nice.”
“The king spoke well of him.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know all that stuff.”
“Wen’s family is here.” Jessa kept his voice low as though it might carry through the rest of the servants’ quarters.
“Really?” The vampire who’d locked eyes on him in the chapel popped into his mind. “Younger and older?”
Jessa nodded. “March and Bronwen. Bronwen’s running Comity House now, I’ve heard. I’m glad you’re not there anymore.”
Isaac shivered. “So am I.”
He stood and flipped the switch on a light that spilled from a large square shade in the center of the ceiling. Why had the vampire stared at him with such a nasty expression? Isaac didn’t have a good feeling about that.
“Why are you reading about this?”
Jessa snatched a book off Isaac’s bed. Isaac had forgotten it was there. The Beginners Guide to Glass Blowing. Jessa had it open on his lap now. “No reason. There’s a really big library here.”
Jessa smiled. “I’ll have to see it before I go.”
He flipped a page, and Isaac stared at a picture of a tall vase that flowed in a sinuous curve like the statue in Mr. Wrythin’s office.
“How did you know Otto was your fated?” Isaac blurted.
Jessa glanced up. “I… Uh. I don’t think I was sure at first.” He closed the book and set it down beside him. “Why?”
Isaac exhaled. “I think I have one.”
Jessa’s face lit up, and he patted the bed. “Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Now Jessa frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, I don’t… I mean, I know who, but we can’t be together.”
“Why not?”
Isaac didn’t answer that. “You weren’t with Otto right away.”
“I was engaged, and he was investigating me for murder.” Jessa grinned. “That sounds like the plot of a romance novel, doesn’t it?”
“Um, yeah.” What was he thinking talking about fated
love? “Want to see the library?”
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
“No. We can talk about it. Do you want to see the library though?”
He hoped the minute Jessa saw the books he’d forget about their conversation. It was a cozy, magical place, and in winter when a fire burned, Isaac wanted to curl up on the sofa and read the day away.
Jessa hooked his arm through Isaac’s and dragged him up. “Okay. But we’re talking. Fated loves are too romantic not to talk about. I can’t believe I have one. And he’s perfect.”
Isaac rolled his eyes. Much as he liked Otto, the guy was a caustic, belligerent bastard most of the time. How he’d ended up with Jessa was… Romantic.
Damn.
Isaac wanted that too. He was only twenty-three, but twenty-three years alone might as well have been ninety-three. His heart was brittle enough to break at a touch. Not that anybody was planning on touching him. Safe there.
He took Jessa upstairs, across the quiet upper floor, and down another set of stairs to the opposite side of the house. The library was close to the king’s quarters, but nobody appeared in the halls.
“I love this room,” he said, entering through the heavy wooden doors.
It was dark from the wood and the narrow windows that let in only thin rays of light and was snug without being gloomy. The fireplace was cold, but when Isaac turned on a few of the lamps, golden light pushed the shadows away. A portrait of the king hung over the mantle and comfortable chairs and sofas filled the space. Bookcases lined the walls.
“Over here,” he said.
Most people had no idea there was a door to another room. It sat flush with the wall, not hidden or locked, and opened with a tap. When Isaac had gone through every novel among the selections in the main room, Anin had shown him the rest of the library. He pushed the door, and it swung in.
A smile built on Jessa’s face. “Secret passages.”
Isaac laughed. “Very mysterious.”
The room they entered was only half the size of the large one they’d left but shelves covered the walls from floor to ceiling and filled the space between. Jessa turned in a half circle, his smile splitting his face. “Wow.”
“I know. Come see this.” He brushed Jessa’s arm and headed down an aisle between shelves to the back wall. “Romances.”
Jessa gasped and rested his fingertips against the book spines, his gaze roving the titles above him.
“Otto’s not much the romantic type,” Isaac said.
Jessa laughed. “Very romantic. But only on the inside.”
“I can’t see it.”
“In Otto?” Jessa pulled a book off the shelf. “I haven’t read a lot of these.”
“No?” Isaac gazed at the cover of Jessa’s romance. A radiant turquoise halo surrounded a long-haired woman on a black background. She had fangs. A vampire. Jessa looked at him, and they both laughed.
“Let’s go sit,” said Jessa. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
They sat on one of the sofas, facing each other, and Isaac rested his arm across the back, picking at a loose thread in the upholstery.
“I thought he called to me,” he murmured. “Wanted me. But he’s busy with things and doesn’t want me.”
Jessa said nothing until Isaac glanced up, surprised by his silence. Then he pursed his lips in a doubting smile and tipped his head. “Were those the words he used?”
Isaac sighed. “No. The words he used made me feel stupid for thinking we should be together.”
“Then he’s an idiot.”
Isaac huffed a laugh. “I’m not gonna argue.”
“Where did you meet?”
“In Comity. By accident.”
Jessa’s face screwed up in bewilderment. “So why did you leave if he was there?”
Isaac sighed and pulled a string loose from the back of the sofa. How strange. Things should be perfect in a king’s house. Never ever was though. “I followed him, but I guess I wasn’t supposed to. I was supposed to wait for him to get done doing whatever he’s doing.”
“Well, fuck that.”
The curse word was so strange coming from Jessa that Isaac burst out laughing. “That’s what I think.”
“Why can’t I know his name? Do I know him?”
Like hell Isaac was telling him. What a mess that would be. And a betrayal. You don’t owe him anything. But he had a strange feeling Rune was counting on him. He forced a smile. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
Jessa rolled his eyes and waved his book in the air. “Romance not mystery.” A second later his eyes brightened, and he grinned. “I know!”
Frowning now, Isaac eyed him askance. “You know what?”
“Romance.” Jessa leaned forward. “That’s how you get him. I always ask myself what would happen in a romance, and then I do that thing. And so far, it’s worked. So that’s how we have to approach your situation. What would the heroine in a romance do in the same situation? She’s in love, but her hero is too much of a dimwit to figure it out. So she has to make him figure it out. How?”
Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know. Hire a skywriter?”
“Oh, I like that. That’s romantic. Or have a friend tell him. Or make some kind of grand exit and take a big job someplace far away. But that won’t work, come to think of it. You already have a good job here, and traipsing off in the first place didn’t work.”
Isaac scowled. “I don’t traipse.”
“Give him something he really wants.”
“Which isn’t me.”
“That’s not true. He just needs the wool pulled away from his eyes, so—” Another grin appeared on Jessa’s face, and this time he added a chuckle. “And the perfect way to do that is make him jealous. You need a boyfriend.”
Isaac rolled his eyes. “Really? I can’t even get the one I want.”
“Not a real boyfriend. Just somebody to stand in. Somebody big and—”
“Excuse me.” Jessa lifted his gaze, and Isaac swiveled to look behind him. Anin stood in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay,” said Isaac.
“The king requests your company.”
“Now?”
Anin nodded. “I’ll wait in the hall.”
He retreated and closed the door behind him. Isaac turned back to Jessa, who stared at him with a small smile playing on his mouth.
“What? You don’t—”
“He’s gorgeous.”
“He’s a friend.”
Jessa shook his head. “Not a friend. A boyfriend.”
8
Setback
Bodies jerked and thrashed. Jabbing elbows, twisting torsos, bending backs.
Pupils dilating in the dark, Rune raced to the pile of vampires. The broken shapes took on solid form, revealing three vampires bent over one that vibrated on the floor. Its head and joints cracked against cement. Rune hissed, a sound that swelled and echoed. The vampires scrambled back. “What the—?”
“Fuck!”
Rune lowered his head, and one of the vamps bolted. The other two separated and circled to either side of him.
“Who are you?” one growled.
He hissed again, this time a low rattle, and his breath took on the color of moonlight, curling and twisting like smoke. The vampires backed up, but the form on the floor only twitched now. Dying? Rune leaped across the space toward the closest assailant. The guy shrieked as he crashed into his chest and sent them both sprawling onto the cement. The vampire wrapped himself around Rune’s body, pinning his arms to his sides. He lurched onto his knees, the weight of the leech hanging onto him dragging him back down. He dimmed, growing wispy for a second before lights flashed and a heavy object slammed against the back of his head. The blow jolted him forward and flattened the guy underneath him.
The vampire kicked and squirmed. “Get me… out of…”
Rune knotted his fingers in the guy’s hair, squeezed his eyes shut, and waited until the shadow of the
other vampire fell over him. The weight of the shadow smothered him like a blanket, but he didn’t stir.
“Is he dead?”
“I don’t… know.”
A grunt blew fetid breath into his face, damp like the air around the hot springs of Abbatine. A shudder threatened to crawl down his spine.
“Who is—?”
“Who the fuck cares? Get ’im off me.”
The vampire snagged a fistful of Rune’s shirt and yanked him up. The momentum carried him onto his knees, and a ball of energy erupted in his chest, reverberating outward like an explosion in space. Dim screeches reached his ears, glass shattered, and the vampires blew in opposite directions. One hit the floor and skidded to the edge of the landing. The other bounced off a wall, crashed onto all fours, and scrambled away.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs, followed by thuds as the vamps jumped from the remaining steps to the ground floor. Rune didn’t pursue them. He twisted sideways and dropped onto his elbows beside the fallen vamp.
The creature twitched and jerked as though somebody prodded him with a live wire.
Rune’s stretched pupils pulled in enough light to note a strange mottling on the vampire’s skin. “Are you Thomas Mithrinin?”
He turned his ear toward the vampire’s mouth. A gurgle spilled out, and he got his knees under him and opened the torn shirt. The mottling deepened in color along the track of the vamp’s esophagus, spreading in long thin tendrils beneath his solar plexus.
“Can you say anything?” Thomas blinked, mouth opening and closing, teeth chattering. Dying. He was dying. “Thomas. I need your message. I am your king. The true one.”
Thomas’s head jerked to the side. Vibrations ran through his body and…
Shit.
Rune sucked in a deep breath, brought his wrist to his mouth, and bit down. His fangs sank through skin and flesh, and pierced a delicate vein. As he retracted them, he jerked his head up and down, widening the holes, then sat up. Blood welled, and Thomas gave a raspy hiss. Saliva ran in a rivulet from the corner of his mouth. One heavy drop broke loose and smacked the cement. The sound echoed, thrumming off the walls. Rune brought his wrist to Thomas’s lips, and Thomas… Latched on.