WHITE PAWN
Vampire Court
Ingrid Seymour
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
WHITE PAWN
First edition. April 2, 2019
Copyright © 2019 Ingrid Seymour
Written by Ingrid Seymour
Cover Designed by Deranged Doctor Designs
For my feline desk companion... Ossie
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
CHAPTER 1
I had to admit, he was a handsome thief.
Tall with wavy, brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and mysterious eyes. He moved lithely, his steps and grace as refined as a noble’s.
And yet... he was just a thief. Low class, sporting two-day stubble, dressed in battered trousers and coat, his once-white shirt yellowed from use.
I’d spotted him almost as soon as I entered the crowded market street, a city block reserved for brick and mortar stores and makeshift, less permanent stalls.
A shabby leather bag hung across his torso, gently swinging by his side as he strolled from stall to stall, one hand in his pocket, jiggling coins or probably scrap metal of some kind. He wanted to appear as if he had money to purchase goods, but I doubted it.
“What do you think of these, Bianca?” Talyssa, my beloved lady-help, asked from the side.
Her question buzzed in my ear, but I was too intent on the thief to pay her any mind.
“What now?” Talyssa asked in frustration. “Oh, him again?” she added as she spotted the rogue.
Talyssa had been with my family since I was twelve. Papa had brought her from one of the poorer areas of the city to be my companion after Mama died. Talyssa had also lost her mother, and after that, her father hadn’t known what to do with her. Pawning her off to a city lord had been an easy way out. He was probably a drunk. I bet he was a drunk. Talyssa never talked about her life with him. It must have been hideous. She’d been fifteen at the time. Now, she was twenty-two and fond of disapproving of everything I did.
“Stop staring at him, Bianca.” Talyssa pulled on my arm and forced me to face the stall. “Look at these apples instead.” She picked up a bright red piece of fruit and pressed it into my hand.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, a fine specimen,” I said, dropping the apple in Talyssa’s basket and glancing over my shoulder, wondering where the thief had gone.
My eyes roved around the different stalls. He wasn’t stealing jars of honey or strawberry jam from the old man across from us. He also seemed to have no interest in the potatoes or yams that flooded the burlap sacks in the next stall. He did, however, seem to have a sweet tooth.
I smirked. He had stopped by the baker’s kiosk and was eyeing the petite rhubarb tarts. Pointing, he asked something to the baker’s assistant, a young boy of around fifteen. The boy held five fingers up, the price of the tarts, which was clearly written on a small sign next to them.
The thief asked for the price of the rolls next, which everyone knew to be one Cheke. The young boy was polite, though, and turned to answer him. While he did so, the thief surreptitiously snatched two tarts and slipped them into his leather bag.
A little gasp escaped me. He’d been so quick, a sleight of hand that had probably taken him years to perfect.
“I was right!” I whispered in Talyssa’s ear as she paid the vendor for the apples. “He is a thief. He snatched two tarts.”
Talyssa whirled and pulled on the sleeve of my red dress. “Hush, Bianca. You don’t want to get involved. It’s nothing new, goes on every day, I’m sure.”
“But the poor assistant,” I protested. “He will be in trouble with his master when he doesn’t produce the exact amount of money for the goods he was supposed to sell.”
“Well,” Talyssa said, giving me a raised eyebrow, “if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you pay the boy for the stolen tarts?” She flipped a hand dismissively and moved on to the flower stall.
“That’s an idea,” I murmured to myself, hurrying toward the baker’s kiosk. I pushed past a few ladies and their helpers—my dress rustling as I walked—and caught up with the thief before he moved on to his next target.
“Excuse me,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder.
The thief’s head snapped back and, for an instant, he looked like he was going to run for his life. When he saw me, however, he seemed to relax.
“Yes, milady?” He smiled and inclined his head.
I was dazzled for a moment. Up close, he was more handsome than I’d realized. His smile was bright, and contrasted perfectly with his golden skin. His eyebrows were thick, black, and glossy. His jaw angular. And his lips... they were full and perfectly shaped.
His dark gaze traveled across my face, assessing me. As he regarded me, his smile deepened.
Something sparked between us. It was unmistakable.
Heat crept slowly up my neck, and in that instant, I was very glad for my tanned skin. It wasn’t as deep and rich as the thief’s—I didn’t spend as much time outside as he probably did—but it did well to cover untimely blushes. Something that made Talyssa very jealous. Her skin was white as porcelain and invariably gave her away when she was embarrassed.
“How... can I help you, milady?” the thief asked once more when I didn’t answer, his voice sounded a bit less confident than before, as if he’d also felt the spark.
Straightening to my full height, I took a deep breath and commanded my emotions. This wasn’t the first handsome young man I’d ever encountered, and the ones I met at fancy balls every week were much cleaner and better dressed.
“I have a simple request,” I said, glad that my tone sounded firmer than his had.
“And what, pray tell, is milady’s request?” His voice was steady this time and accompanied by a wink so fast that I almost missed it. I paused, taken aback.
The gall of him!
How dare he wink at me? He was a thief, and I was a lady.
Jutting out my hip, I put out my closed fist. He stared at it and frowned.
“Take this,” I ordered, lifting my chin and setting my mouth into a thin line.
My stern posture worked. Immediately, he obeyed me, extending out a hand and placing it underneath mine.
I dropped ten Chekes on his large palm. “Pay the boy for the tarts you stole.”
For the most part, his face remained steady, but a slight twitch of his eyebrows gave away the fact that I had quite surprised him. He’d thought no one had seen him. He thought he was good at thieving, but I’d just proven otherwise.
His dark eyes dropped to the two black coins in his hand, then returned to my face. He stared into me and held my gaze, saying nothing. I stood my ground, but sitting in the middle of the market, exchanging an intense gaze with a thief was unbecoming of a lady.
“The boy is likely an apprentice, thief,” I said because the silence got the best of me. “And when he gets back, he’ll have to explain to his master why he’s short on change. It will, without a doubt, cost him his post, his livelihood.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “And you care about that?”
I narrowed my eyes back. I wasn’t stupid. This was a trick question. If I said I cared, he would condemn me for being better off than the boy. And if I said I didn’t care, he would probably smirk.
&n
bsp; “I care not to have thieves wandering about Acedrex, my city. And I’m sure the White Queen and Black King don’t either,” I said.
Since no one dared defy the two powerful vampires, Acedrex’s monarchs kept the city safe and in immaculate order. In spite of the most unsavory aspects of their rule, we had peace—unlike other neighboring lands.
This market was on a white square of the city, therefore ruled by Queen Lovina and kept safe by her Sentries. The entire city was divided into sixty-four alternating black or white sections, like a chessboard, like the silly game our whole existence was modeled after. White sections were controlled by the Queen, and black ones by the King.
It had been so since the original vampire Queen and King had replaced human monarchs centuries ago. History taught us that there had been tremendous hate between them but, unable to defeat each other due to their perfectly matched strengths, they had played a game of chess to decide the best way to rule Acedrex, thus affecting the fate of generations to come.
The thief snorted. “If you’re worried about thieves, you should probably hold on tighter to your Chekes,” he said, pocketing the coins I’d given him.
I gasped. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, gods!” Talyssa came running and immediately started pulling me away from the thief. “Get away from that person.”
The shoppers around us went quiet and turned curious stares in our direction, but I didn’t care. I would not let this thief take advantage of me.
Determined to unmask him once and for all, I yanked my arm out of Talyssa’s grip and, in my blind haste, knocked the shopping basket out of her grip, sending the fruits and purple dahlias crashing to the ground.
“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed, watching the apples roll all around her as her cheeks reddened. She leaned down and picked up the flowers, looking quite distraught.
“Oh my, this is terrible,” the thief said, snatching Talyssa’s basket off the ground. “Let me help.”
Before I managed to get my wits back, the thief picked up all the apples, returned them to the basket, and handed them back to Talyssa.
“Here you go, milady,” he said with a brilliant smile.
“Oh,” Talyssa pressed a hand to her bosom, a blush climbing from her chest all the way up to her face, making her redder still. “Thank you.” She batted her eyelashes.
Oh, please. I rolled my eyes. This was too much.
“Sentries!” I screamed.
The thief sighed. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I gave him a raised eyebrow.
“Sentries, a thief,” I screamed even louder this time.
“If we meet again,” he said, placing a hand on his heart and bowing, “I would like you to know and remember my name is Nyro.”
Hurried steps sounded behind the stalls. The Sentries were coming. I turned toward the sound of their heavy boots as they smacked the cobblestone street.
“This way!” I called.
Two men and a woman dressed in white uniforms appeared around one of the stalls. Their coats had black accents around the neck and wrists, as well as black belts around the waist. They belonged to the White Queen’s ranks.
“Catch that thief,” I said, pointing toward the shameless individual.
The Sentries blinked and stared at me with matching frowns.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Catch him.” I swiveled.
The thief was gone.
Spinning in a circle, I searched for him among the shoppers and stalls. He was nowhere to be found.
“He... he was just right there,” I said, feeling stupid. “He stole from me and the baker’s boy.”
“What? Me?!” said the baker boy, who had stepped away from his stall to gawk. He turned back to his goods and frantically started counting them.
I shook my head. “I’m such an idiot,” I mumbled.
“Bianca,” Talyssa said, sidling up to me, “maybe we should get back home. It does no good for a lady to be involved in these kinds of things.”
“But he—”
“Let’s go.” She unceremoniously took my hand and started pulling me in the direction of home.
Anger made itself comfortable in the pit of my stomach. I hated to lose, but there was nothing to be done.
“Fine,” I said, yanking my hand from Talyssa’s death grip and stomping like a petulant child.
If I ever see him again...
I didn’t know what I would do to him, but he would pay for embarrassing me this way.
Fifteen minutes later—after a brisk walk one square south and two squares west, out of the market and past many houses—we reached home.
It was located on Square B2, a black section on the chessboard that was our city.
Going past the low stone wall that surrounded Flagfall House, I walked down the path that led to the front steps. The marigolds Talyssa and I had planted a few weeks ago flanked me on both sides, lifting my spirits slightly.
A short set of steps led to the carved stone doorway of my two-story house. Symmetrical windows sat under a pitched roof, and perfectly trimmed hedges surrounded the perimeter.
Talyssa kept pace behind me, holding up her dress. “It’s ridiculous letting a thief get you this upset,” she continued in the monologue she’d started when we left the market.
I ignored her and pushed the door open, leaving the sunny summer morning behind. I took off my lace gloves and discarded them on the entryway console, where the flower vase stood empty. I had accompanied Talyssa to the market to purchase fresh flowers for the foyer, and now they were trampled.
My day was quite ruined, and I thought it couldn’t get any worse.
Except I turned out to be wrong, because as I marched into the library—wishing to tell Papa what had happened—my day got far, far worse.
A tall, thick man was standing in our library, towering over my father in a threatening way. He was dressed in a black suit with a matching bowler hat, his pale face contrasting with his dark garments. He turned my way as I entered the room, allowing me a better look.
At the sight of his pallid skin, I gasped. Talyssa came to a stop behind me and let out a small shriek.
This was no ordinary man.
It was a Black Rook.
One of his meaty hands was on Papa’s shoulders, squeezing, blue-green veins cording the skin. I knew he was a Rook because he wore an insignia on the right shoulder of his jacket, the unmistakable white outline of a castle turret.
My heart hammered for Papa’s safety. Rooks were the Queen and King’s thugs. They did their dirty work. What could one of them possibly want with my father? As Flagfall House was located on a black square, it was controlled by the Black King, but never had one of his Board set foot here.
Through the knot that had immediately formed in my throat, I managed to ask, “Papa, is something the matter?”
He shook his head ever so slightly, putting on a forced smile. “It’s nothing, dear. Please go to your room.”
I wanted to protest, but I was afraid to cause trouble for Papa, so I slowly started to back out of the room.
The Rook narrowed his eyes, his nose twitching as if he smelled something in the air.
“Stop!” he ordered me.
“She’s just a bothersome girl, Rook Datcu,” Papa said in a dismissive tone. “Let us finish discussing our business.”
“Quiet,” Rook Datcu said, holding up a thick finger.
Then, without taking his eyes off me, he stalked in my direction. I stood completely frozen, while Talyssa whimpered behind me.
CHAPTER 2
Rook Datcu took three long strides and stopped a mere foot away from me. Talyssa’s hand slipped into mine, giving me strength and support. Even so, my knees trembled at the sight of the Rook’s ivory-white face and red-rimmed eyes. This man—no, this creature, like other Board members of high rank—had consumed the King’s blood and gained an appetite for more.
Was he thinking of consuming mine?
Papa cl
umsily rushed in my direction, ready to make an appeal on my behalf. Without even turning, Rook Datcu held a hand up and spoke in a growl.
“Stay,” he said, as if he were dealing with a dog and not a respected member of the city.
Like a dog, Papa obeyed, his gray eyes darting back and forth in fear.
Rook Datcu leaned closer, his nose twitching, lowering toward my neck. A chill went down my spine as I stared into his unnatural eyes. They must have once been blue since I could see splashes of that color in their depths. Now, however, they were mostly of a muddy brown, like dried blood, like death.
I inclined my head back, trying to keep the distance between us. But he continued to move closer, finally forcing me to take a step backward.
His chest rumbled in anger. He clutched my wrist with bruising force, yanking me forward. I yelped as my breasts collided with his chest. Talyssa squeezed my hand harder.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” Papa said. “I’ll pay everything I owe.”
Pay?
But I barely had time to linger on that thought before the Rook pressed his nose to the base of my neck and inhaled deeply, making a shuddering sound.
I wanted to flee, to turn into a bug and crawl under the rug, to disappear. This beast was sniffing me, his free hand wrapped around my waist, his mouth moving against my collarbone.
Did he have fangs? I knew he wasn’t a vampire—not yet, probably not ever, since the Black King had been in rule for so long and no challenger had ever defeated him—but he did drink blood. That was common knowledge. Bishops, Knights and Rooks took a taste of their monarch’s blood before assuming their posts, and after that, they craved its taste. Only Pawns were exempt from the horrible deed—not that they could be trusted.
Trembling, I waited for the Rook to bite me. He trembled as well.
After an eternity, he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him. He let go of me, his mouth twisted in a sneer.
Turning to Papa, he asked, “What do we have here?”
Papa shook his head, glancing at me, his expression darkening with a mixture of guilt, shame, and fear. What had happened? And why did I suddenly feel as if Papa had just condemned me to death?
White Pawn Page 1