Sentinel (Vampire Conclave: Book 2)

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Sentinel (Vampire Conclave: Book 2) Page 24

by S. J. West


  “There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Shael tells her in a resigned voice. “Every house is represented. I thought for sure Nysas and Icefall would bow out of this.”

  Nadia looks toward the entrance, specifically at Jhann Nysas, and says in a quiet, hurt voice, “I did too.”

  “What’s happening?” I whisper urgently to them both.

  Shael looks over at me with true regret on her face. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I thought I could spare you from having to make this decision until you were ready. I had no idea they would all come to an agreement so quickly.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” I say, still bewildered and growing a little angry at not being given a satisfactory answer to explain what has everyone so shocked and Shael upset. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Shael sighs before saying, “Each house has sent a representative for you to choose from.”

  “Choose one to do what with?” I ask, still confused.

  “To marry.”

  “To what?” I exclaim. My outburst instantly causes everyone present to stop talking and stare directly at me.

  Shael smiles brightly and turns to me, whispering, “Calm yourself, and we’ll figure a way out of this later. Right now, we need to play along and not give the other houses the upper hand in this situation. Smile if you understand what I’m telling you.”

  I don’t want to smile. I want to scream at the top of my lungs that whoever wants the crown can have the damn thing and then proceed to run out of the room as quickly as possible.

  But I can’t do that. I can’t turn my back on my family or my responsibilities to the alfar. So, I smile. It’s the fakest smile of my life, but I keep it plastered on my face as I ask Shael, “What exactly am I expected to do now?”

  “We need to go greet the candidates, so I can introduce them to you. I understand your confusion and your anger. Believe me, I’m furious on the inside too, but both of us must appear cool, calm, and collected to everyone in this room. It’s imperative that we at least act like we’re in complete control of this situation.”

  “I understand. Just give me a second before we walk over there.” I turn to Julian and see an expression so dark and menacing on his face that I fear he might tear the throats of my four would-be suitors out before I can even meet with them. “Julian, look at me.”

  He doesn’t look at me. I’m not even sure he heard me speak. So I pinch him hard on the arm to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn his head, but he does cast his eyes in my direction.

  “Stay calm,” I whisper to him. “I’m not about to marry one of these people. I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

  Julian returns his gaze to the foursome still standing just inside the ballroom.

  “Go,” he says in a low, gravelly voice. “Do what you have to do to end this.”

  Not exactly the most encouraging words ever spoken, but at least his body is losing some of its tenseness.

  “Let’s go say hello to our guests, Sarah,” Shael prods me.

  I follow her lead toward the doorway and feel a measure of relief when I notice Nadia fall in step directly behind us. As we approach the four representatives from all the houses, I decide to lower the wall I put up to shield me from everyone’s emotions just enough to know the true nature of those in front of me.

  Aron Firestorm’s emotions are no surprise. He’s enjoying the drama he and the others have caused by walking into the room together. His hunger for power seems to know no bounds, yet I sense that he’s keeping something of himself hidden from those around him. He’s holding back a secret and plans to reveal it at a time of his choosing. I still don’t understand how Nadia ever dated a world-class ass like him, and I wonder why the death of his mother the summer of his junior year at Valengard Academy had such an adverse effect on his personality.

  Ireen Draconid’s emotions are practically a mirror of Aron’s, which doesn’t surprise me too much. From what Nadia told me earlier, Ireen and her mother have been scheming for a way to gain more power for quite some time. What better or faster way to make that happen than to marry into House Moonshade?

  Wren Icefall’s emotions actually do bring a smile to my face. He’s bored, and I can feel his anxiousness to have this night over with as quickly as possible. He desperately seems to want to get back to something he considers more important than offering himself up like a sacrificial lamb. From what little I know about him, I can only conclude that he wants to get out of here and go paint something.

  Jhann Nysas is the calmest and most reserved of them all. I notice that his eyes never leave Nadia as we walk to the front of the room. Interesting. His emotions appear to run deep for my future sentinel, but it seems as though he’s hiding his own feelings for her from everyone, including himself. For whatever reason, he’s in self-denial about how much he cares for her, but I’m not sure why he would do something so self-destructive.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Shael says as we stop in front of the group. “I must confess that you’ve all taken me slightly by surprise. I didn’t realize your houses had come to a consensus about my proposal.”

  Her proposal? Was all of this Shael’s idea?

  “My house and House Draconid didn’t see any reason to wait to make our bid,” Aron tells us.

  “And I,” Jhann speaks up, “and the Icefall family decided your niece should be offered the chance to join Moonshade with a respectable house.”

  “Always so high and mighty, Jhann,” Ireen says condescendingly with a roll of her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. She casts a withering gaze in Jhann’s direction that would make a lesser man cower in the corner. “You’re here for the same reason as the rest of us.”

  “And what exactly would that reason be?” I ask Ireen, deciding that if these people want me to choose one of them to marry, I shouldn’t try to hide my own personality from them. I get the distinct feeling from both Ireen and Aron that they believe they’re superior to me in every way that counts. I really hate people who see themselves so far above everyone else that they can’t imagine being rejected by anyone.

  Ireen looks me straight in the eyes and says, “To have you choose one of us to marry so we can reap the benefits of being joined to House Moonshade forever.”

  I may not like Ireen, but at least she is honest about her reason for coming to the ball.

  “I appreciate brutal honesty,” I tell her truthfully. “So that’s one point in your favor.” I look around at the other three and ask, “What do the rest of you have to offer me?”

  The men look a little taken aback by my question. I’m not sure if they’re just not used to being spoken to so bluntly, or if they expected me to be shy since I’m a newcomer to their world. Whatever the reason, they need to get over it, because I’m not in the mood to coddle them.

  “I have only myself to offer, I’m afraid,” Aron tells me in mock humility. “Oh, and the second most powerful house in all of Alfheim.”

  “Second best is just another way of saying first loser,” I reply smugly. “Next?”

  Ireen lets out a small giggle. “I like you,” she tells me, sounding surprised that she’s making such a statement. “I didn’t think I would, but I actually do.”

  “Thanks. I think.” I’m not quite sure how to take Ireen’s backhanded compliment, but her sentiment seemed sincere enough.

  I look at Wren Icefall and wait for him to tell me why I should choose him to be my husband.

  “I, uh …” he begins, looking nervous under my scrutiny. “I’m a good person, and I would never make you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “You should also know that Wren isn’t exactly into girls,” Aron points out unnecessarily. “So don’t expect him to knock you up anytime soon. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop until you were plump with the next heir to both of our houses.”

  When I look at Aron, I’m sure my expression relays to him just how revolting I find his statement to be. Plump w
ith his child? Who says that?

  “And what about you, Lord Nysas,” I say to Jhann as I look him in the eyes. “What do you offer me?”

  “Mutual respect,” he replies, keeping it simple and honest. “I would always value your opinion, and we could keep certain houses,” Jhann gives Aron a scathing sideways glance, “in their place.”

  I look over at Ireen and have to ask, “I know one of the most important things to the alfar is having an heir to carry on the royal line. How exactly would you be able to help me with that?”

  “It may not be an ideal situation, but my father has sperm stored that we could use to fertilize your eggs with. I know I’m not as well equipped to keep you barefoot and pregnant like the boys here, but I can assure you I would treat you as my equal.”

  “Until she finds a way to take you out of the picture and assume the throne for herself,” Aron is quick to argue.

  “You only say that because it’s something you would do to her, you coldhearted bastard,” Ireen tells him disdainfully.

  “I’ll have you know …”

  “Stop,” I say, pointing to both of them with each of my index fingers. “I have no intention of marrying someone who acts like a child. So either get your acts together or take your names out of the running altogether.”

  Both Aron and Ireen press their lips tightly together and make the wise decision to not say another word.

  “And miracles really can happen,” Wren jests, looking between Ireen and Aron in shock.

  I look at them all and say, “I thank each of you for declaring your availability to me as a potential husband or wife. And I will certainly take into consideration what each of you have said this evening. I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes by, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the ball.”

  I return my attention to Shael and see a look of pride on her face. The strength of her emotions tells me how pleased she is with how well I handled the others. We turn to leave and head back to where we left Julian when a male voice calls out Shael’s name from behind us.

  Involuntarily, we both turn to see who addressed her.

  Galan Firestorm is the man who spoke, but he’s not standing alone. The other family members of the other houses come to stand behind their candidate in a show of solidarity. Galan is the only one who steps forward until he’s standing in front of Shael and me. I notice Nadia inch up closer to Shael’s side and can feel her distrust of Galan’s intentions.

  “There’s one other thing that the other houses and I agreed upon,” Galan tells Shael, without even bothering to look in my direction. “Now that we have presented our candidates to you, your niece must choose which one of them she intends to marry, and her decision must be rendered tonight.”

  “That’s outrageous!” Shael says. “Sarah is new to this world. You can’t expect her to make a decision when she barely even knows the four of them.”

  “The proposal you sent out states that if all four of the houses agree upon a strategy for heir-succession, we can then determine the parameters of the engagement and subsequent marriage between the two houses. You said you wanted to unite us. This is the way you do it, Shael. She either picks someone, or House Moonshade will be viewed as a monarchy that only follows the rules when they want to. Is that really the way you wish for your legacy to be remembered?”

  Shael takes a small step forward and says to Galan in a low, menacing voice, “Just because I refused your offer of marriage doesn’t mean you can bully my niece into making a decision she isn’t prepared to make. She needs more time, Galan. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  “If you expect us to accept her as our next queen, she needs someone who has been raised here and knows the ins and outs of Alfheim. Otherwise, none of our houses will bow down to you like we have for the last one hundred years. Either take this deal, or there will be a war to determine which house should rule next.”

  “This isn’t fair, Galan,” Shael says heatedly, “and you know it!”

  “Pick which one you want, Shael. Peace or war. The choice is yours.”

  When Shael doesn’t say anything else, I feel the walls of the room begin to close in on me.

  Are they serious? Do they honestly expect me to choose one of these four veritable strangers to spend the rest of my life with? I’m beginning to think all alfar are nuts and that Julian and I should run to the breach as quickly as we can before any more misfortune can befall us here.

  “Can you at least give me until the end of the ball to make a decision?” I ask Galan.

  Finally, he turns his head to look at me, but I sincerely wish he hadn’t. All I see in his eyes is unadulterated disdain.

  “If you ascend to the throne,” he says to me, “will you end up abandoning us like your father did?”

  I feel sure he stated his question the way he did to provoke my temper. It almost works, until I feel him start to gloat over his small jab at my father’s expense.

  “I won’t leave,” I assure him. “When I say I’ll do something, I do it, and I would much rather you refrain from trying to disparage my honor until I’ve actually done something to deserve it from you.”

  Galan is obviously impressed that I stood up to him, but it’s not enough to change his bad opinion of me.

  “I guess we’ll see,” he says. “Yes, you may have until the end of the ball to make your decision, but no matter what, you have to choose one of them before you leave this room tonight.”

  I nod my head in understanding. Right now, all I want is to get Shael alone so we can discuss my options here. There has to be a way out of this mess. There’s always a loophole. You just have to be tenacious enough to find one.

  I don’t really feel like saying thank you to this arrogant ass, so I don’t. I just turn my back on him and continue to make my way back to Julian. Considering my companion still has a dark and murderous look on his face, I have to assume he listened to all of my conversations. It’s just as well. His eavesdropping will save us time since I don’t have to give him a rundown of all the exchanges.

  “You and Julian should dance,” Shael suggests, still wearing her polite smile for all the world to see. “And Julian, I need for you to listen to me very carefully while you’re dancing. I assume you can do that?”

  “Yes,” Julian says with practically no emotion. “I’ll be able to hear you speak, even if it’s just a whisper.”

  “Good.” Shael lifts a hand in the air as she looks over at the orchestra. “Now go. And try to look like you’re having a good time.”

  Julian takes one of my hands and leads me into the center of the room. As the orchestra begins a waltz, we fall into a natural rhythm with the music. Gradually, other couples in the room join us on the dance floor.

  “I’m so sorry I got us into this mess,” I tell Julian.

  “It’s not your fault,” he replies, but his voice sounds cold and detached. I don’t like it. At least not when he’s talking to me.

  Julian looks up toward where I know Shael is standing.

  “Is she telling you something?”

  Julian nods his head. I’m not sure if it’s an answer to my question or a silent response to something Shael said.

  “Does she have a solution?” I ask urgently, desperately needing a light of hope that we can find an easy way out of what seems to be an appalling situation.

  To my surprise, Julian actually cracks a smile.

  “You should know that your aunt truly does love you,” Julian says, finally turning his gaze to me. The coldness of his expression begins to melt. “She’s telling me to run away with you until she can sort everything out. She did send out a proposal to all the houses about a marriage between one of them and you, but she never thought they would ever come to an agreement and certainly not this quickly. It was more of a countermeasure to keep them bickering amongst themselves. Apparently, House Firestorm and Draconid were pushing for a marriage between you and one of them to strengthen their own houses. She assumed House
Nysas and Icefall would refuse to join the pact. Their willingness to participate surprises her, but she blames herself for the situation you’re in and regrets not having prepared a contingency plan for this outcome.”

  “So there isn’t a loophole?” I ask, feeling my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. “There has to be a way out of this!”

  “There is,” Julian says. “We leave here and never come back.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t do that. Galan threatened to start a war to take the throne away from Shael if I renege on this deal. I can’t plunge the alfar into a war that I can prevent. There has to be a way out of this. There just has to be.”

  Something draws Julian’s attention toward the front of the room.

  “Alden is back,” he informs me.

  I glance toward the entrance and see Alden walk in with two other men I don’t recognize, but I know they’re part of the Valengard by the way they’re dressed. Julian and I stop dancing when it’s obvious the three men are heading straight toward us.

  “He must have something important to tell us,” I say. “He just walked right by Shael without saying a word.”

  I can’t read Alden’s emotions. He’s still blocked from me for some reason, and the two men with him are almost like blank slates. The only emotion I can feel coming from either of them is grim determination.

  When Alden is only five feet away from us, I watch as he slides one of his hands inside the front of his jacket, pulls out a small pistol, and aims it straight toward my head before pulling the trigger.

  Three things happen all at once.

  One, Julian places his body in the line of fire and takes at least five point-blank bullets directly in his chest.

  Two, Nadia barrels into Alden and tackles him to the floor, where they both grapple for possession of the gun that’s still in his hand.

  Three, the two guards who were with Alden take advantage of Julian falling to his knees in front of me after being wounded and Nadia trying to disarm Shael’s sentinel. They both head straight toward me to finish what Alden failed to do: kill me. The one on my right is holding out a nasty looking knife with a serrated edge pointed in my direction, and the other one appears to want to strangle me, since he has his arms and hands stretched out at neck level, which brings a picture to my mind of Frankenstein from the movies.

 

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