by Kayleigh Sky
Dot scurried over, arms open. His eyes widened on the flash of a ring on her finger before she wrapped him up. Had he been gone that long?
“Hey,” he grunted. She let him go after squeezing out his air. He motioned with his chin. “Is that a ring?”
She waved her hand. “Yep. I think Will got tired of waiting for you. I’m his fallback plan.”
“Wow. I missed a lot. Congratulations.”
She blushed. “He’s so much sweeter than he acts.”
Isaac snorted. “If you say so.”
“Are you staying? Are you coming back to work?”
Heart cracking, he grinned and nodded. “I hope so. I have to earn back Rowena’s keep.”
She wound her arm through his. “Come see what we’re fixing for tonight. You’re one of the guests, so you don’t have to do a thing.”
As happy as he had been in this kitchen, it was as real now as an old photograph. A place he remembered, but not one he lived in. But he told himself his comfort here would return as soon as he got back into the swing of manor life.
Dot showed him the menu and made him taste from every pot and pan. The sudden flood of Will, Casey, and Dennis into the kitchen distracted him.
“Our intrepid adventurer returns,” crowed Will.
They hugged him and patted his back.
When Jessa waved to him from the door, he broke free. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Don’t get too used to the high life,” Will yelled.
Isaac hurried into the hall where Jessa huffed at him. “Where have you been? I was waiting in your room.”
“I took a shower and came here.”
“Sit with me, okay? Otto’s being pissy because he wants to arrest Rune.”
Isaac’s step hitched, and Jessa dragged him on. “Can he do that?”
“Well, sure, if Rune was guilty, which he knows he’s not, and he got a job with a police department somewhere because right now he’s not a cop, which I think is getting on his nerves. He’s worried he won’t have a job anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Well, Rune has the necklaces.”
“And the treasure.”
“I don’t know. Does he?”
“Not that I saw, and I was with him… Most of the time.” But not the time Qudim had him. Who was? Camiel? “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Neither does Otto, and that bothers him.”
Inside the dining room, Otto stood beside Mal. Her dress was a shimmery teal, not her usual red, her lips a sun-kissed peach, her hair spilling in ringlets from a tie on top of her head. Clara perched sideways on her seat, her hands in her lap. Her face brightened at the sight of Isaac. Jessa pushed him to the chair beside Clara and took the one beside him. Camiel grinned at him from across the table. Anin stood against the wall, back at work. A few minutes later, Essie appeared, Yair leading her in, Uriah and Moss following. Uriah inclined his head at him, and Isaac puffed with pride. After Essie, came a dozen other vampires. He didn’t recognize them because he hadn’t had reason to mingle with them at the coven meeting, but Jessa leaned close. “That’s Morjin and the twins Darlith and Alva.” A pair of dark eyes slid across Jessa, the menace in the vampire’s stare like the touch of ice. “Gareth Wrythin. A second cousin of Wen and Bronwen’s. He’s standing in for March. The others are cousins of the other families.”
Zev and Asa entered a few minutes later. Asa grinned at him. When Zev took the chair beside the one at the head of the table, murmurs ran through the room. Servants, human and vampire, brought out appetizers and drinks. Isaac was excited. People didn’t wait on him. Not ever.
“Look at him,” Jessa whispered. “Like Papa.”
Isaac tore his gaze from the foaming beer that appeared in front of him.
The room quieted, heads going down. Only Zev, Otto, and Isaac met Rune’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes and gestured at the chair at the head of the table. Zev smiled and shook his head. Rune held Isaac in his hot stare for long torturous seconds. He’d been with this vampire. Held him. Ridden him. Fought with him. Loved you.
But he was scary too. His eyes burned, a furrow across his forehead, his mouth a hard line. “Don’t wait on me,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves.”
When he sat, Zev pushed a cup toward him. “It’s yours. You made it. I’m returning it to you.”
Jessa leaned closer to Isaac. “It’s like Papa’s.”
Red and gold glass. Rune raised it. “To Zeveriah. Our king.”
Heads popped up. “To the king… Long life… Honor always.”
“Yes.” Zev raised his own cup to Rune. “Honor always.”
Rune’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Isaac couldn’t look away. Rune’s shirt, as blood-red as Mal’s usual outfits, clung to him like silk. He wore leather pants and black glossy boots. Jewel-toned ribbons wove through the braids in his hair.
Conversation droned on around him, and Jessa chattered beside him. The food was delicious, a mix of human and Ellowyn dishes. “That’s Rune’s favorite,” Jessa whispered.
Isaac rolled his eyes. “That’s your favorite.”
Mushrooms baked with cream, sherry, and tarragon. Jessa loved salmon too. Did Rune? He ate steak after the mushrooms. His tongue caught a drop of the juice from the piece on his fork. He needed blood. The force of that need hit Isaac in the chest. There were pitchers of Synelix. Some cold, others room temperature. But Rune had lost too much blood to Anin. He hadn’t built it back yet, and Isaac felt it.
Strange.
If they were separated, would the connection break?
Like a bone.
He forced himself back to his meal. After their plates were removed, carts displaying different desserts were wheeled around the room. He wasn’t surprised to see moon lace tarts.
Jessa’s eyes glowed. “You have to have one.”
“I don’t know.”
“Take it. I’ll eat it for you.”
“Just take two.”
“No,” Jessa whispered. “That’s rude. Otto, get a tart.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Personally, Isaac wanted chocolate. It was expensive and not a treat he often enjoyed. The sugar-dusted brownies had him salivating. He was only half-way through the gooey treat, the tart he’d also taken long since snatched away, when the vampire with the dangerous eyes cleared his throat and gazed down the table at Rune. “We are fortunate to have you back among us.”
“Why?” asked Rune. “I am hardly important.”
“You are royal. That is an honor.”
“So are many of us. And an accident of birth is just… an accident of birth.” Rune picked up his cup and drank from it. “Honor is founded on keeping your promises.”
Gareth inclined his head. “I always keep mine.”
Rune set his cup down. “Do you wish to challenge me?”
Surprise flashed across the vampire’s face before the darkness deepened. “To what end? The Wrythin sons are dead. We have nothing to gain.”
“Qudim lived for vengeance.” Rune smiled and dropped his fangs, the broken one ragged and ugly. “I will kill for it.”
After a moment, the vampire dipped his chin. “We harbor you no ill will.”
“You would do best not to.”
“We Seneras are so unfriendly,” Mal chimed in.
“Understood,” said Gareth.
The table remained silent. Zev dropped his napkin and said, “You are here because I sent for you. You are my guests. I want you all—everyone at this table—to make your way to the council room.”
Rune tipped his head back in his chair, his gaze darkening on Isaac’s. Go. Some things we cannot escape.
52
Bowing To Tradition
Gray mottled walls surrounded a circular stone floor covered by a single rug. The rug was massive and depicted the bloody fall of Majallena. In the center was a victorious vampire whose face was oddly indistinct. It might have been Qudim… or not. Vampires lay in pools of blood around him. Pale
faces peered from the dark windows of the buildings. “My mother’s people,” Rune mused as he gazed down at floor.
Had they died for their secrets?
He watched Camiel enter the room and flash his usual disrespectful smile. Bastard. Anin brushed his fingers across the small of Camiel’s back as he passed and took his place against the wall. Uriah, Pan, Absalom, Moss, and two other enforcers joined him, spaced to surround the room. His own enforcers were not here, but they hadn’t earned the right to be present at a coven meeting yet. The gazes that slid to Isaac and Asa weren’t happy. Screw them.
Rune took Isaac’s hand and brought his knuckles to his lips. Isaac’s expression softened, his eyes brightening in the gloom. The sconces on the walls did little to light the room. “Stay with Asa,” he murmured.
“Are you okay?”
“Almost.”
Almost. Almost there. Almost done. Almost home.
Not every family was represented, but it didn’t matter. Whatever happened here would get to them quickly enough.
Solid wood chairs, upholstered in jewel tones and embroidered with city scenes, circled the room on either side of a throne. The fabric was gold with thin red pin stripes. Zev stood near it. For a moment, while everyone found a seat and settled in, he took in his friend’s beauty. It hadn’t faded. Maybe it never would. Maybe it came from the inside. Zev’s full mouth curved in a smile when he noticed Rune’s stare.
But he didn’t take his seat on the throne. He swung his gaze over the assemblage, his long braids swinging over his shoulders.
Silence fell.
“You know why you are here,” Zev said. “Qudim hid his life from us. Abandoned us for his purposes.”
Low growls hummed in the air.
“You think not?” Rune demanded to know. “Do you think he had your best interests at heart? His bloodlust and disregard for the sanctity of life would have seen the end of all humans. The end of drainers. None of us is more than another. None of us is less!”
He refused to look at Jessa, call attention to him. The motherfuckers.
“Qudim is dead,” Zev continued. “His co-conspirator, the light bearer, Solomon Frenn, is on the run. I want him. The price is ten years’ relief from your tithe. Everything he wrought, everything he represents is an abomination I will not let stand. He will face his punishment. Bring him to me alive.”
“To what fate?” Gareth said.
Zev cocked his head. “What am I to you?”
The knot in Gareth’s jaw stood out even in the dim light. Rune met Uriah’s gaze, and Uriah approached Gareth’s chair and took up position behind him.
“You are our king. I apologize for not phrasing my question properly, so I will repeat it. To what fate… sire?”
“Whatever fate I decide.”
“I will pass your proclamation onto March.”
Zev averted his eyes and took a step to the side. Beside a few gasps at the ancient vampire insult, Essie clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laugh. Camiel didn’t bother to muffle his. “Ouch, Gareth. Need a Band-Aid?”
“Watch your mouth, witch.”
“Enough!”
Rune’s shout silenced the room.
“Moving on,” said Zev. “We have a new formula.” Rune glimpsed Jessa’s alert stare on Zev. “It has a success rate of seventy percent among the drainer subjects. It will free many from the need of donors, but it is not a perfect formula. It’s as effective as Synelix for everyone else, however, and we’ve been told the taste is superior. We’re rushing production and hope to replace Synelix entirely within six months. With Qudim dead and Solomon on the run, we expect the recent spate of despicable murders to cease.”
“If not, sire?”
Zev turned to Gareth again. “Bring me Solomon.”
Gareth said nothing.
“The new formula, by the way, is called Abbalith.”
Rune smiled. Freedom.
Essie rubbed her hands together. “I look forward to my first taste.”
Mal directed her smile on Rune. “I think I’ll plan a party. I do love our parties. Abbalith and apple cider. Yes, Otto?” She glanced over her shoulder.
Otto gave her a sour grimace. “Maybe I’ll take up Abbalith.”
She laughed, and Rune chuckled as Zev strode over and stood at his side, brushing Rune’s upper arm with his chest. He leaned in, voice low. “Your turn.”
His turn? What was he supposed to say? He’d disappeared a year and a half ago. He’d lost himself somehow when once he’d been so sure of his path. He gazed at Isaac. His rock. The one under his feet. A skinny—willowy—kid, quiet as a mouse until somebody got his dander up. Tough and… good. The goodness Rune had wanted for himself and had lost. He wasn’t a murderer, but he’d slogged through blood for so long, he doubted he was good either. Blood, the thing that sustained them, was also their downfall. Strange.
Zev retreated, watching him, but not taking his place on the throne.
Rune approached the shape of the victorious vampire on the rug and stood over him.
“The Lotises will be returning to us. You must welcome them and give them safety as they find their place in their new home.”
“You are gracious, sire, with the lives of traitors,” Essie said.
He shook his head. “They honored their king.”
Essie smiled and dipped her chin. “As do I.”
“The honor is mine, princess.”
“Your return is our pleasure too,” Gareth added. “But the death of a king is not to be taken lightly. Your acknowledgement of Qudim’s tragic loss shows the respect it is due. I wonder, though, if we are not past the need of a king. We live in the human world now.”
Rune smiled against the pain of his broken fang gouging its sheath as he let them drop, but it was Zev who spoke. “We live in our world. We thrive. Our traditions—thousands of years of tradition—will not be tossed onto a garbage heap for any shiny new idea, Gareth Wrythin.”
“Change is cleansing,” Gareth responded.
Rune laughed. “‘Cleansing’? Fire is cleansing. Blood is cleansing.” He gazed into Isaac’s worried eyes, noticing his fingers gripping the arms of his chair before he looked back at Gareth.” “The monarchy is the rock under our feet. We are not a democracy. Challenge me or Zeveriah, Gareth, and I will cleanse us of you.”
The vampire narrowed his eyes but dipped his chin.
“I will return home and take my place,” Rune said. Alone? What would he do now when everything he’d believed turned out not to be true?
Zev smiled. “And I will take mine.”
Rune frowned, teeth aching as his jaw tightened, and Zev swept his gaze across the seated vampires. “You have news to take home with you. Be loud. Celebrate it. And never forget your honor to your king.”
Zev clasped one hand in the other as he smiled at Rune. The years flew away as Zev slowly approached, his smile the carefree, happy one of their youth. The one Rune hadn’t seen since Celestine’s collapse. Zev’s voice rang in his head again. “My obedience is yours.”
A foot away he stopped and sank to his knees. Raising his hands to his chest, he pulled the ring from his finger. The ring Rune had given him. Sobbing and begging him to take it. I killed him. I killed him.
Unfit to be a king.
But Zev was taking his hand now, clasping fingers that had gone sweaty, while Gareth rose, Mal following him. She covered her lips with her fingers. Jessa stood too, smiling, eyes dancing, Otto’s hands on his shoulders.
But Rune looked at Isaac, still gripping the arms of his chair. Who am I? Who am I?
My fated.
He blinked back his tears. Was there anything else he needed to know? Was there anything else that mattered?
The treasure isn’t real, Rune.
But it was. Because he’d found it, not far from where he’d always thought it was. In this room, in a safe under the rug and the mosaic of the victorious, now defeated vampire under his feet, lay the necklaces. “W
hat was it?” Zev asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t look.”
Only Zev would give him that I-told-you-so smile, take the pouch from his hand, and say, “I know a safe place.”
“Safer than a picture frame?”
Zev chuckled. “Safer than a tomb.”
Where it belonged. The treasure wasn’t theirs, but it was his to guard. He was what Abadi had been: The Keeper of the Treasure.
Whatever it was. Maybe only a mirror.
He smiled at Isaac as Zev slid the ring onto his finger. I love you.
Isaac smiled back. I love you too.
53
True Hearts
They got home late at night, Otto driving and still disgruntled he didn’t get to arrest him. Rune delighted in flashing his snaggle-fanged grin at him.
The heavy night, weighted with clouds as though a storm approached, hid the castle from him. But he didn’t want to see it. Not yet. He wasn’t ready.
When they arrived, Isaac exited the car, mouth twitching in a quick smile, before he walked, hands stuffed into his pants pockets, to the stairs that led under the castle. To his old room. Rune didn’t know what to make of that.
Was he supposed to follow?
“God, I’m tired,” Mal said. “I’m turning into a human sleeping the night away.” She stretched her arms over her head, then came to Rune and hugged him. “Welcome home, brother.”
Jessa was next. “Teach me how to blow glass.”
A wave of relief rushed through him—so normal—and he laughed. “You know where to find me.”
“Yes.” Jessa stepped from the hug. “I do.”
After everyone went to bed, he sat in the dark family room, head resting on the back of the couch. He must have slept. A tinge of gray filled the room when he opened his eyes again. Rising, he made his way through the house to his studio, coming onto Isaac’s suite. He paused and listened. It was quiet inside, and he continued the last few steps to his haven. He shut his door too and leaned against it. The familiar scents filled his head. Stone burnt over the years. The special ink he used for his maps. Clay. Metal. An amalgam of chemicals that stirred him inside.