He bares his fangs at me, so I know Hollywood at least got that much right. “You’re early.”
There’s an edge to his voice, as if he’s not happy about that. “By like five minutes,” I counter. “Where’s Iris?”
“Your friend is safe.” He waves his arm as he steps aside, motioning for me to step inside. I oblige, taking in the grey concrete slab flooring and tacky red velvet drapes that hang from nearly windowless walls. He continues, “I’m glad you arrived. I would have hated to make good on my promise.”
I’m not entirely sure I believe that, but I force a smile. Probably looks more like a grimace, but so does everything Vampire Guy does with his mouth, so I’m not feeling too worried about it.
“Can I see her? ” I ask.
He stares at me for a moment, his gaze assessing, and I add, “I’d ask more politely if I knew your name.”
“Carden,” he says. “And of course. Right this way.”
He lifts a torch that protrudes from a wall sconce of sorts and heads down a dark hall. I follow down the slight incline that makes me consider we’re most likely moving into the hill, farther underground. The trembling in my hands matches the panic in my chest, but I don’t let that stop me. I walk with sure footing. I didn’t come this far to run away scared. I came here knowing exactly what I was getting into.
Okay, maybe not exactly. But I did know that being here put my life at risk, and I’d come anyway. Because Iris needed me to. As long as I didn’t let my emotions complicate things, it really was that simple.
“You’re not broken,” Carden says from ahead of me. “Most humans are, you know. But not you. That’s why we picked you.”
I walk a little faster, wishing I could see his face when he spoke. But any light from the torch is useless with me walking behind him, and no matter how much I speed up, he keeps increasing his own pace enough to keep me trailing behind him.
So instead of catching up, I call pathetically after him, “Not broken?”
“Well, not by our standards,” he says coolly. “But to your own kind, you’re probably the worst kind of broken.”
“I’m not broken by anyone’s standards,” I say to the back of his head.
“Maybe you prefer ‘emotionally deficient?’”
I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea to throat punch a vampire. Probably for the best that I can’t catch up.
“That’s why you turned to magic in the first place, isn’t it?” he continues. “Because you can’t bond with anyone? You felt alone, and magic gave you something to connect with.”
“Can’t please everyone,” I mumble.
“Right,” he says. “But are you pleased with yourself? That’s the question.”
“It is?”
“The only reason you’re here is because Iris is the only friend you’ve ever had. If you lose her, you lose yourself.” He comes to an abrupt halt, unlocks a large door, and opens it. “After you,” he says. Then as I walk in, he locks the door behind us and continues, “I believe that in the human world, that makes you a sociopath.”
I’m pretty sure I’m not a sociopath. I don’t bother arguing with him. What’s the point? If I do, I’m an idiot. If I don’t, I’m apathetic. I can’t win either way.
In this room, there’s another door. I’m guessing the room isn’t really so much a room as more of a barrier to keep the things they want in from getting out and to keep the things they want out from getting in—a decontamination room.
I’m part of group A now, I believe. No getting out.
So I may not be a sociopath, but it’s entirely possible I fall squarely in the too-stupid-to-live category.
“Too stupid to live?” he asks, this time turning to look at my over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. I guess that means he’s some kind of mind-reading vampire. “Think there’s any chance you’re wrong about that?”
I shrug as he opens the next door. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
6
The next room I enter is a little brighter. My vampire guide places the torch into an empty wall sconce and then turns to face me, his hands folding in front of his lap. In this lighting, I can make out more details of his face. His lips are chapped, and I’m pretty sure the red staining the dry skin there is blood. But as long as it’s not Iris’s blood, we’re all good.
We appear to be in some kind of great room—though there doesn’t seem to be very much great about it. In a stone throne, another vampire sits, with two guards at his side. His fingers curl around the arm of the chair, and his eyes widen.
“Hadley,” he says. “Is that you?”
Like we’re old friends who haven’t seen each other in years.
“Yes. It’s me. I’m here. Can we please get this over with? I was told you would let Iris go if I came here.”
“That’s a stupid thing to believe, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. But it was worth the risk. I imagine you didn’t have me come here simply to insult my intelligence. You must need something. And since you didn’t come and take me yourself, something tells me you need me to give it to you willingly. So perhaps it’s safe to assume that bartering with my friend’s life was not a trap and that you really will let her go.”
Carden, who moved to stand beside me when we entered, gives me a sidelong glance and whispers, “Not so stupid after all, huh?”
“Quiet,” the head vampire guy says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or my guard, but something about his tone silences me. He taps his sharp fingernails against the arm of his throne. “Hadley, you’re right. I do need something from you. And if you agree to it, I will let your friend go.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Does it matter what it is?” he asks. “Is there something you wouldn’t do to save your friend’s life?”
“No, of course not,” I say, feeling a little queasy at the curling smirk on his lips. “I’ll do anything for you to let her go.”
“Wonderful.” The vampire rises and indicates toward a side hall with his hand. “Fetch the girl and let her go.”
And that’s the moment I realize I really am too stupid to live.
7
His name is Alessandro Beldassare, and he’s gotten me to agree to doing something without knowing what it is.
I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get any dumber than that. But then again, even knowing how that conversation played out, I’m not certain I would have answered any differently. In the end, I’d always known I would do whatever it took to save my friend. He might have tricked me, but it didn’t really change things.
Shortly after that conversation and shortly before he introduced himself, he let Iris go. He even let me watch the security cameras to make sure she got away safely. The tense set of her shoulders didn’t ease until she was outside the compound. I blew out a sigh of relief as Finn stepped out of the foliage to meet her. Alessandro complimented me on my foresight to bring a friend to escort her to safety. The whole thing was…almost cordial.
Right up until he threw me into my friend’s old prison cell.
I’m lying back on fairly plush mattress, which is a bit strange considering I’m being held captive and I can’t imagine they would care much about how comfortable I am. Moonlight filters in through a barred window with crumbling concrete, and I stare up at the ceiling. While the walls are stone, the ceiling is made of exposed wood beams. It’s a sort of basement-level cell, with a low ceiling that I could nearly reach if I stood on the bed.
I purse my lips. There’s got to be a way out of here. Now that I’ve rescued Iris, I really need to save my own ass. I’ve already tried shifting again, but something about this place makes the effort useless. So now I’m taking inventory of the room: bed; chair; a small table with a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bottle of water; a second small table with a wooden bowl filled with fresh fruit and bread; and an adjacent bathroom with a privacy door that has no lock.
As I’m starting to inspect inside and unde
r things to see if I’m missing anything, a knock comes on the cell door. Through the window, I see what appears to be one of Alessandro’s guards. He opens the door and steps inside.
“I’ve come to collect you for dinner,” he says. His body nearly fills out the entire doorframe. He doesn’t seem to be too worried that I might run off, though I don’t suppose he would be.
My mind darts to all the possible implications of being collected for dinner by a vampire. “Am I a guest or the main course?”
The vampire’s lips curl up in a creepy smile, and I shiver. “A guest,” he says.
Things could be much worse, then. “I’m not hungry.”
“No one will force you to eat, but you still must come to dinner.”
“Fine.” I figure it’s better to not argue, since the last thing I need is a guard breathing down my neck because I’ve made myself a perceived flight risk. Which I totally am. But the vampires don’t need to know that.
I head toward the door, ready to push past him into the hall and head to wherever dinner is, but he doesn’t budge. “First, however,” he says, holding out a pair of shackles. “You must wear these when you are out of your cell. For now.”
I clench my teeth together to stop myself from flying off the handle. I really need to stay focused on developing a plan. A plan that doesn’t involve fighting back—not right now, anyway.
“Of course,” I mutter, holding out my wrists.
He locks the shackles around my wrists, then grabs the chain that connects the two and uses it to lead me down the hall. It’s not a very intricate path to the dining hall, but it’s a fair distance. We walk straight down the same hall for perhaps three entire minutes before we reach our destination. When the hall ends, it opens up to a huge room with high ceilings and bright, chandelier lighting.
“I expected more people,” I say to the guard.
“Alessandro wanted to give you time to adjust. Tonight, it will be only the two of you.” He leads me the rest of the way over to a large table and pulls out a chair at one head of the table. “He’ll be out shortly.”
With that, the guard locks the chain of my shackles to a metal eye bolt attached to the table before leaving the room. I give the shackles a yank, but the table doesn’t budge.
“It’s bolted to the floor,” Alessandro says from the doorway. I knew it was him even before I looked up, because he has a very distinct, but unidentifiable accent. “I’m glad you came.”
He sits opposite of me at the other head of the table, and I try not to glower at him. “Not that I had much choice.”
A servant comes out, and Alessandro waves his hand toward me. “Perhaps she would like a glass of wine.”
The servant is halfway across the room to offer me some of the bottle he’s holding in his hand when I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
He starts back to toward Alessandro, who hisses through his teeth. “I insist.” To me, he adds, “You don’t have to drink it, but really, it’s customary that a glass be poured.”
The strangest part isn’t how pushy Alessandro is. It’s how commanding his voice is. He doesn’t seem to be straining when he speaks, yet his voice travels across the long table to me with ease. I assume the only reason he can hear my much smaller voice is because of his supernatural hearing. I think that’s a thing with vampires.
On one hand, none of this makes the seating arrangement any less awkward, but at the same time, I’m rather thankful for the distance between us.
“I’m sure you have many questions,” he asks.
“Only one, actually.”
He raises his eyebrows, crosses his arms, and leans back in his chair. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“What am I doing here?”
Another servant comes out and presents me with a plate of food: breads, herbed cheeses, and olives. I have to admit, it looks good, and my stomach rumbles at the thought of eating it. I suppose I can still hate my captors even if I eat their appetizers.
“What you’re doing here,” Alessandro echoes, staring at my thoughtfully. As he does so, a woman comes to his side and holds out her wrist. Offering herself as food, I think. But he brushes her off, and she leaves without a word. “That is a great question. Tell me, Hadley, what do you know about who you are?”
“Nothing that would explain why I’m here.”
“Did your parents ever tell you that you were adopted?”
“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m here because I’m adopted.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m suggesting you weren’t here because you were adopted. You see, your biological father was human man and your biological mother’s a vampire. And not just any vampire. She’s the queen. But this world is not a kind place to halflings. Or, at least, it hadn’t always been. I took care of that for you.”
“You shouldn’t have.” I can’t help the sarcasm. I might believe in vampires, but that’s because proof they exist is right in front of me. I don’t have to believe in halflings, too. And I definitely don’t have to buy into Alessandro taking care of anything for me.
Alessandro scows at me. “I assure you, I only did so because we had no other choice. But before I go any further, perhaps we should address the bigger issue at hand. Already, you do not trust me.”
“Can you blame me?”
He leaned forward now, entwining his fingers together and resting his hands on the table. “If I could prove you are what I say you are, will you promise to listen to the rest of what I have to say with an open mind?”
I press my lips together. I mean, I might as well find out the truth. But the last time I answered a similar question of Alessandro’s, it’d been a trick.
That thought reminded me of Iris. Had Finn gotten her back home safely?
Pay attention, Hadley, I reprimand myself. Strange that my attention could wander during a discussion with a vampire—even one who seems determined to make me trust him.
“It depends how you plan to prove it to me,” I answer finally.
He wags his finger at me. “You catch on quickly. But no tricks this time. You’re here because we need your help, and I realize the only way we’ll get that is if we can earn back your trust.”
Earn back my trust? As if he ever had it?
“How will you prove it to me”?” I press.
“I was thinking perhaps you might prove it to yourself.”
As he says that, the same servant who poured my wine returns to the dining hall and sets down a tea tray in front of me. Alessandro rises from his chair, pressing his fingertips against the tabletop.
“I will leave you for now to find your answers,” he says. “I trust you know the questions to ask.”
8
I’m alone in the dining room now with barely enough slack in my shackles to prepare myself a cup of tea with the tea leaves and pot of piping water the servant had left for me. I go through the motions of the ritual quickly. Esme always said to keep the reason for a reading clear as I complete it. But I have two purposes this time. The first is to find out what I am. The second—and really, the more important one, to me—is to learn a spell to get out of here. That means I need my reading to give me a spell to induce a vision, and I need a spell I can do right here, without any special ingredients. My understanding from everything Esme has taught me is that vision spells are small potatoes compared to shapeshifting spells, so I’m hopeful.
When the ritual is done, I take the time to do the full reading this time. This one tells a story of birth, life, and death. I’m hoping that last part isn’t anytime soon. The symbols don’t really mean much to me, but seeing the nest near the rim makes me wonder if that means vampire nest, and if so, does that mean that’s where I was born? It hardly seems like what Alessandro said could possibly be true. I certainly don’t feel like I’m part vampire. I haven’t been murdered by sunlight yet, I don’t need to drink blood to survive, and I have no fangs. Really, three for three, I’m as human as it gets.
It’s all going to c
ome down to the spell. I close my eyes, envisioning the images in my mind, and then open my eyes again to see the spell that the reading reveals.
Arată-mi adevărul.
I try speaking the words, but of course, that’s not enough. I try to recall what Esme had taught me about vision spells. But I can’t remember. It was an herb I’m supposed to eat. Not a strange or poisonous one.
Oh.
Of course. The cheese! On the plate of food they had brought out, the cheese was herbed. Alessandro would have known I need vision to learn the truth, and as part of this magical world, he surely knew what herbs would be needed for this kind of magic.
I pick up a piece of the cheese, eat it, and try again.
“Arată-mi adevărul.”
This time, the vision comes.
Exactly as Alessandro said, I’d been born to a vampire mother. The Vampire Queen, to be exact. I guess that makes me a half vampire princess or something. It also means I want to hear a little bit more of what Alessandro has to say before I go anywhere.
But it doesn’t change that I need to get out of here, so I repeat the spell a second time, this time hoping for the vision of how I can escape. Unfortunately, that vision provides me no real answers—but it does show me a loose screw on the chair in my cell. Since I don’t have any idea how that might be helpful, I try again. And I still get nothing other than that screw—this time gleaming in apparent sunlight. But I keep trying over and over until Alessandro returns to the dining hall.
“Do you believe me now?” he asks, and I can tell from his tone that he already knows the answer. I nod anyway. “Good,” he says. “Then I can tell you why you’re here.”
I hold my breath until I realize what I’m doing, then I suck in a big gulp of air. “I’m listening.”
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