by Tanith Frost
It seems I don’t need to worry about fighting for survival if Lachlan tosses me in the ring.
I’m already there.
13
I’m lying submerged in a scalding-hot bath, but all I can think about is the tightrope I’m walking.
Since I woke tonight, I’ve been trying to remember why I’m really here. Tempest wants to invade Maelstrom and make it like this place with its beauty and wealth and void that feels like… God, that feels like the first time I killed and realized I’d only enjoyed lesser experiences because I didn’t know there was something better.
I used to suspect other powers made us stronger, but now wonder whether what I feel here proves that idea wrong. The void here is so pure, and feels completely unstoppable.
I press my hands to my face and try to shake my thoughts loose from the lulling effects of that perfect energy. There are reasons I’m here. Allies who are counting on me, most of whom wouldn’t survive under Tempest’s rule. Powers I want to protect because they’re… interesting? But they keep the void from being the sharp, glittering, pure energy that’s flowed through me since I fed here.
I focus on that, instead. It’s easier to let the void overwhelm me than it is to cling to dangerous thoughts.
I can remember why I’m here and still enjoy this while it lasts. After all, I’m gathering information and experiences that will be useful to Miranda. If I ever get close enough to talk to her, I mean. And then what? Go back to shit assignments maybe with an occasional bonus in my bank account but with the same lack of recognition I’ve had for everything else I’ve done for Maelstrom?
Maybe Lachlan is right. Miranda was using me, and like a desperate idiot, I went along with it because I didn’t know there was anything better.
No. I can’t think that. Can’t fall into my lies like Daniel has his. Because…
Because.
I sit up and squeeze the water out of my hair. I want to stay here, cocooned in warmth and nothingness, letting the void make everything okay. And if I’m being honest with myself, I want to embrace the power Lachlan sees in me, to feel as safe as he does, to prove myself and fully become all I have the potential to be. In the realized vision of his dark world, power like mine could make me a goddess.
But no.
Because.
I climb from the tub, dripping water across the stone floor as I approach the mirror. No fire in my eyes tonight—I’ve been doing a fine job of suppressing it. My wounds have healed, leaving no trace of what I went through to get here. I look like myself, but there’s something in my reflection I don’t recognize.
I have to shake this off. Have to remember why I’m here even if after just a few nights the past feels more like a lie than the present does. I swore I wouldn’t lose myself.
Paige knocks and steps into the room, gaze cast down at her feet. “I have your things ready.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“Nothing, really. At least, no one has requested you be anywhere specific. I’ve been told that Bethany and Lachlan had to go out, but that’s all I know.”
“Thank you.” I reach for the towels waiting on the chair—one for my hair, one to wrap around my body. I don’t feel any shame. Baring myself in front of Paige feels like being naked in front of a cat or a dog. “Am I free to leave the room without an escort?”
She nods. “I haven’t been told otherwise.”
“Very good. I’ll be out in a minute.”
She backs out and closes the door.
Decision time. Either I get dressed and go out there to solidify my place in Tempest or I use this opportunity to do some investigating. I’m still walking my tightrope, leaning one way or the other no matter what I do.
But maybe if I’m careful, I can maintain balance just a little longer.
“So what’s your story?”
Paige pauses with the comb half-way through my hair. “Sorry?”
I look into her eyes—or rather, their reflection in the mirror over the vanity. “How did you end up here? Is Paige your real name?”
Paige looks away, and I realize my gaze has fallen to the light scarring on her throat.
“We, um… we don’t really talk about that,” she says, and resumes combing. “I’m here. I’m Paige. Everything is good.”
She doesn’t ask me about myself in return. With each minute that passes without either of us speaking, a chasm grows. Not just between me and Paige, but between me and her species. She is what I once was, but she’s not what I am. She obviously understands this—the humans here serve us, feed us, dress us in clothing that looks like theirs, maybe even gossip about us in their servants’ corridors, but they know what I struggled with for so long. We are not the same. Paige understands her place, and she knows what behaviour keeps her safe here. So do all of the other humans.
I’m not going to get information from any of them. I want to feel disappointed, but it’s kind of a relief to have that door closed.
Paige pulls my hair into a bun at the back of my neck that perfectly suits the demure mood of this evening’s black dress with its full skirt and modest neckline. Heeled boots again, but it’s not as if I’m going to be making any epic journeys tonight.
I wonder where Bethany went. I bet she got to wear flat shoes and reasonable clothes wherever it is. Lucky her.
I have no idea where to go when I leave my room—given the looks I’ve been getting from other vampires, it doesn’t seem likely that they’ll invite me to play whatever reindeer games they have on the go. I’m glad when Randolph appears at the top of the stairs and takes me by the arm.
He gives my dress a once-over and wrinkles his nose. “A bit austere, isn’t it?”
“And not my clothing of choice.”
His eyes sparkle. “Let me guess. You’re jeans and sneakers?”
“Jeans and boots.” I smile back at him. He’s dressed in black tonight. It would fit in well enough with everyone else’s attire if his jacket weren’t covered in feathers. “Flat ones. Well-worn.”
“Void spare us.” He leads me down toward the waterfall. “You should let me alter that for you. Have some fun. You have a stunning figure. It hurts me to see a good canvas used poorly.”
I glance around the room. “You certainly used this one well.”
Randolph’s gaze grows distant, as though at a fond memory. “I have so far. It’s always evolving. What’s the point of being nearly immortal if one doesn’t have a purpose? I was fortunate to find mine early on.”
“What was this place like before?”
He raises his eyebrows. “It was nothing. Well, practically nothing. Natural caves—you can still see their influence in places like this, but even at this waterfall, we made adjustments for aesthetic purposes.”
“This waterfall? There’s another?”
“Hmm.” Randolph squints at me a little, and for a second, I think I’m busted. Then he shrugs. “We diverted the other during construction so we could bring everything in underwater—supplies, even machinery. Its natural flow has been restored now.”
“Really?” I can’t raise suspicions by seeming too eager, but this sounds like a potential exit.
Not that I care.
Randolph beams. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a chance to talk about this. Everyone else was either here during construction or got sick of hearing it decades ago.”
I offer a smile that feels genuine as I look up at the strange, dark beauty of the space Randolph has created. “It’s all new to me, and I’m all ears. Who did the construction? I refuse to believe you did it all single-handedly.”
“Ah. Your doubt wounds me.” He pulls out a pocket watch—copper, with a large black spider encased in resin on the back. “If only I had time to give you the tour and the full history. I’m due to meet with someone in just a few minutes.”
“Another time, then.”
Randolph takes a few steps, then turns back. “It was mostly done by the lower vampires,” he tells me
, speaking in low tones, as though he’d rather not be overheard. “Most of them will never get a chance to visit again. Not unless they’re invited.”
“That doesn’t happen much?”
He shrugs one shoulder, and the glossy feathers of his jacket gleam in the light from overhead. “Only if Lachlan thinks they need the motivation—or he has another reason for wanting to keep them close. We do have a few here who work as servants, taking care of matters we’d rather not leave in human hands. Otherwise, they never see this. You’re very lucky to be here, you know.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He leaves me, and I continue my explorations.
I don’t have a destination in mind but soon find I’ve returned to Bethany’s workroom. I know I should keep my mask on, but for a moment, I can’t help thinking like Aviva, who wishes the door weren’t locked. If anyone besides Lachlan knows what Plan B might be for Maelstrom, I bet it’s Bethany. She’s the one who helped him realize his vision for the energies of his clan’s territory and who will presumably help do the same to Maelstrom’s.
She’d be doing it now if I hadn’t fucked that up for them in the most dramatic way possible.
I should feel good about my role in that, but my stomach is crawling as it did when I was a kid and stole from the cookie jar. Those guilt-riddled minutes or hours between crime and capture were always enough to make me regret the few seconds I got to enjoy my sweet victory.
This can’t be guilt, though. I didn’t do anything wrong when I kept Tempest from taking over Maelstrom. I was serving my clan.
Tempest is your clan, I remind myself. I have to remember that. Have to believe it. Maybe that’s it—I’m getting good at being Ava, and that’s why thinking about Aviva’s crime makes me feel as if I robbed the whole damn bakery.
The walls spin around me. I squeeze my eyes closed. Don’t fall. Don’t forget who you really are. Don’t lose yourself like Daniel has.
I walk farther down the hall until I reach a nearly invisible unmarked door like the one Daniel pulled me through that first night. The servants’ corridors. I check over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then step in.
Empty. A small bit of luck, but I can’t assume it will last. I walk straight ahead until I’ve reached the main passage and turn right, heading back in the direction I just came from. I give the first door I come to a gentle push, expecting to find it locked, but it slides sideways easily, slipping into a pocket in the wall.
Bethany’s workroom is dark save for the desk lamp she’s left turned on over one of the chrome lab counters, which is covered in papers.
I close the door behind me and hurry over.
Maps. They look promising but aren’t as helpful as I’d have liked. Everything relates to the Great Lakes region—exactly where I assumed we still were, and not one of them has a helpful “You are here!” sticker plastered on it.
The file cabinets are locked tight, as are most of the other drawers. Those I can access contain lab supplies, all neatly organized to the point of obsessiveness.
I just have no fucking clue what she’s doing with them.
The dim lightbulb casts eerie shadows over the rest of the room. I approach the fireplace, though the fire’s dead tonight, and sit in the chair beside it. There’s a leather-bound book resting on the spindly legged table. No title. When I open it, the pages fall open to the middle, where a red ribbon marks a page of handwritten notes and a sketch of a human body.
I tilt the book toward the light. The handwriting matches that on the jars that cover Bethany’s shelves—neat, and tidy, and blessedly legible. None of it makes sense out of context, though. “Refraction.” “Shadow.” “Blocking.”
I flip back to the beginning, and the ribbon slides onto my lap.
“Light” is written in big, looping letters. Below that, “Experimental and Research Notes Volume IV.”
It’s not the game plan for Maelstrom that I was hoping for, but it could be interesting.
I’m flipping through the pages when the servants’ door slides open.
I grab the ribbon and slip it between the pages before I slam the journal shut, but there’s no time to hide before a lower vampire walks in.
He’s no longer limping, but the healing scar on his cheek still marks him as the only vampire bold enough to insult me to my face. He’s not glaring at me now, though.
If anything, he looks delighted.
“My, my,” he says as he sets a box of cleaning supplies on the counter and rests a broom against the wall. “What’s this?”
I set the book on the table beside me and rise slowly, as though I have every right to be here. “We haven’t met. I’m Ava. Bethany’s new assistant.”
He glances around. “I know who you are. Everyone knows. The question is why you’re in here without her.”
I straighten my shoulders. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He smirks. “Right. You wouldn’t have heard of me. Name’s Adam. Been here a hell of a lot longer than you have. Maybe that’s why Bethany trusts me enough to come in here to clean up on her nights off.” He picks up the broom and sweeps the stone floor, gathering dust from the corners. “She doesn’t trust anyone else in here. Least of all the new vampire from an enemy clan, eh?”
I fold my hands behind my back to hide the way they’re clenching into fists. I can’t show that he’s got any advantage over me. Much as I want to launch myself at him, tear his eyes out, and lock him in a broom closet, someone would notice if he went missing. I have to find a better way to shut him up.
“If this is about the other night, I had nothing to do with whatever happened to you.”
When Adam turns back to me, it’s with an ugly sneer. “This is about you being where you shouldn’t. About me being loyal to my clan. I think Lachlan would be interested to know what his new toy’s been up to.”
I step forward, keeping my expression as calm as I can. “Go ahead.”
Adam glares at me. “Excuse me?”
My forced smile spreads as easily as warm butter and feels just as sweet. “Please. Tell him I was in here with Bethany’s permission, catching up on some of the work I’ll be doing with her. Tell him I didn’t know where to find the light switch and that my eyesight is keen enough to work in the dark. I’ll be terribly embarrassed, I’m sure.” I tilt my head to one side and give him a pitying look. “Though for your own sake I’d think you might want to lay low right now. You’d be better off not wasting any more of Lachlan’s time or drawing attention to yourself unless you want to even out your facial injuries. But that’s none of my business.”
He stares at me. I don’t look away. Lies really are becoming second nature.
But my skin is crawling, my stomach tying itself in knots. When he turns away, I shift into fight mode, finding the right balance in my boots, planning how I can best angle a kick to use the heels as a weapon.
He reaches for his supplies. “Guess I’d better leave the lady to her work, then. I’ll come back at a more convenient time.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I need to go check on something for Bethany, anyway.”
An amused glint comes into his eyes. “And what might that be, exactly?”
I give him another sweet smile as I head for the main door, but I let my eyes convey the pity and disdain I’m supposed to feel for lower vampires. “I really shouldn’t say. I know you’re Bethany’s right-hand man and all. Maybe she’ll tell you herself if you ask nicely.”
I leave before he can answer, moving slowly until the door is closed behind me. Then my feet pick up the pace, clicking unbearably loudly over the wood floor.
Maybe Adam will second-guess the opportunity he thinks he saw there, but it’s not enough. I’ve been stupid and careless, and I’ve exposed myself. But short of going back and committing murder, I don’t know how to keep myself from falling.
14
Fear.
I tasted it the other night when death approached. Lachlan’s pet
was sure she wanted to die, certain she was ready for whatever comes next for those in possession of a soul, but there was still a moment before the end when she feared the unknown.
I wonder whether a vampire could taste it in my blood tonight as I stalk the hallways, searching for a way to pull myself out of this headlong tumble into disaster.
I have to get to Lachlan before Adam does. I can’t lie, but I can present a truth that’s more flattering than what he’ll offer—I was bored. I didn’t feel ready to mingle with other vampires. I was curious about the work I’d be doing with Bethany, and I enjoy the quiet of her workroom. All true, and if I present it that way, he might not dig deeper.
And then maybe when Adam wastes his time with a non-issue, Lachlan will turf his ass or send him to the fight ring. I’d sit in the front row for that one.
I have to be calm. If I seem nervous, Lachlan will know I’m not telling him everything.
Going into Bethany’s workroom was stupid. I knew it but thought I needed to prove that I hadn’t lost myself. And for what? If I’d just kept my head down and played along, I could have held on to everything I’d gained here.
An objection begins to form in my mind—a memory of other aspects of Maelstrom, other motivations. Not a thought I can afford. I need to be Ava now, more completely than I’ve managed so far. I crush the memory beneath the weight of the pure void pulsing through me, and it vanishes.
Maybe letting my dangerous former self rise up to screw me over was a mistake I had to make before I could understand exactly how much I have to lose, but I regret it. I only hope it won’t be the end of me.
I step into the room that contains the grand staircase. Lachlan’s at the top, still wearing his coat and boots, talking to a vampire I don’t recognize. He stands with his shoulders relaxed, and he raises his eyebrows at whatever his companion has just said. A good mood. Perfect.