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Queen of Lies

Page 25

by Kel Carpenter


  I could almost pretend I was boxing. That this was just another match. That Lucas would be coming right around the corner any moment now. That Ash was just the boy from the gym that saw too much. That Lily would be in the crowd with Alexandra, cheering for me.

  But none of those things were true anymore, and they certainly weren’t true this night.

  The dirt still stank of fear and wrongdoings. Blood and bits of Vampires covered the walls, the floor—leftover from Blair’s fight. But who was I to criticize?

  Who was I to say what was right or wrong when my hands were so unclean that I didn’t remember what they looked like without blood on them?

  No one. That was who. And if I had my way, that’s who I would fight as.

  “You ready for this?” Ash asked from the edge of the pit above me. To anyone else he would probably look like he was talking to himself. They certainly wouldn’t hear my reply.

  “Yes.” It was instantaneous and without hesitation. I meant it.

  “Don’t lose yourself,” he murmured. The door to my left opened. I felt it. Whoever they brought out, the crowd went wild. Their cheers were thunderous. Wild. Savage. I took a deep steadying breath, clenching and unclenching my fists.

  Blood. Sweat. Tears.

  This is where I was made.

  “You’ll pull me back,” I muttered. It was the last thing I said to him as I turned to meet my opponent. Alexandra’s flaming red hair caught the corner of my eye, but I didn’t stare too long. I couldn’t. Not when I had a game of cat and mouse to play.

  His eyes were dark, unbelievably dark. Not black like Ash often turned his, but instead the darkest shade of green. His skin was pale in the bright moonlight, reflecting like the surface of a pearl, complementing his silver hair.

  It made the smudge of black around his lips stand out even more.

  Blood. Vampire’s blood.

  The very blood that ran in my sister’s veins.

  The blood I was going to spill as a sacrifice to whatever dark god would listen.

  “Gregory Kamarov,” a Shifter said over us, outside the pit. Unlike all the other fights I’d seen, Gregory had two guards escorting him and neither of them were the ones speaking. “Born Vampire and cousin to Ivan the Cruel,” the dark-haired Shifter above said before pausing. Was that fear in his eyes?

  No wonder the Born looked so fucking smug. He had immunity for all intents and purposes—except this one. I suppose no one took the time to tell him that it wasn’t the Supes or the Shifters that apprehended him—but the flaming gay mob alpha of the Las Vegas pack.

  Who operated only in business that was strictly off the books.

  Like conducting an unofficial execution.

  “Gracing us with her presence in a special turn of events—” The announcer paused for dramatic effect. With my blue film covered eyes and cold sneer, I wore the perfect mask. Staring up at the paranormals surrounding the pit like they were somehow beneath me. Unworthy of my attention. No one would ever know. No one but her, that is. “Council Member, Anastasia Fortescue!”

  The Born Vampire blinked and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute—”

  “Supernaturals. Subjects,” I pronounced clear and precise. My voice rang with the same condescending clarity Anastasia liked to use. “I am standing here before you because I have been away too long. In my absence, certain species have felt they could get away with anything. That they are invincible. Untouchable.”

  Murmurs broke out above me and inside a fissure of hope sprung. A crack in my chest…because it was working. They really believed me. They believed I was Anastasia.

  She’s going to be furious.

  “It’ll make her that much more desperate to rush into something. We’ll be ready,” Valda assured me. The breath hissed between my teeth as I sneered at the Vampire before me. He tried to open his mouth again to object, but I telekinetically kept it shut.

  Panic clouded his vision. Feeding me. Feeding the show.

  “Let me remind you that I am the only invincible being on the face of this planet, and as such, it is my divine duty to uphold the natural order of things.” I motioned for the guards to release him. They undid his shackles and removed the collar from his neck. Meanwhile, the Vampire didn’t say a word. He physically couldn’t.

  “Gregory Kamarov, you conspired in the plot to overthrow a Supernatural Institution and that offense will not go unnoticed.”

  “Did he go before the Council?”

  “Does the High Council know?”

  “Since when do Supernaturals exact punishments on other species?”

  The rumors circled round and round, building traction. Building momentum.

  By the end of the night, every paranormal in the market would know what happened here.

  And by tomorrow, Anastasia would know.

  I am alive. I am fighting.

  I am coming for my sister.

  She can only hide so long before the damage is irreparable.

  “As such, you can die with honor, or fight me—as futile as that will be.” The Vampire’s eyes flicked to the crowd. He was going to run.

  Excellent. This was going according to plan.

  “Choose,” I commanded. He flashed me a wicked smile, moving as he did so.

  Vampires were considered the fastest paranormals out there, apart from demons, that is. Knowing that, I moved with exaggerated slowness to dodge him. He took the bait, doubling behind to backhand me. I ducked under his arm, stepping into his chest.

  The Born blinked in surprise but recovered quickly.

  His right hand shot out to grab me, but I kneed him in the groin and shoved him away, giving myself enough room to step back so I could redouble with a roundhouse kick to the head. He narrowly escaped, allowing me to clip him just hard enough so he had the opportunity to rethink fighting me.

  As it was, I had to slow myself down and fumble on attacks so I didn’t accidentally kill him.

  As lovely as that would be, he served a greater purpose alive.

  The Born backed away hissing, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

  “We had a deal,” he breathed. A warning, hardly more than a whisper. I didn’t know what the exact deal she struck with them was, but he didn’t seem to know that.

  “Deals can change,” I replied. I spoke just loud enough that my voice carried on the wind. More murmurs traveled through the crowd as our small exchange caught on like wildfire.

  “I’ll be sure to let Ivan know that’s how you feel,” he sneered back coldly.

  “What—” I asked dumbly, internally applauding my own performance. Not only did the crowd believe I was her, but so did this bloke.

  Was it too much to think that luck may be on my side for once?

  I pretended to be slow, then stunned when he turned and jumped for the gap that just magically appeared in the crowd. Shouts of outrage. Cries of dismay. The black market took only a moment to explode into complete and utter chaos. Tam’s Shifters had been carefully placed further from the ring than normal—because Anastasia requested it. She wanted to deal with the Vampire on her own, of course. This both protected the Shifters and made for the perfect getaway. If my gut was right, it wouldn’t take him more than a minute to lose them. No more than five to be a scent on the wind.

  I leapt from the pit, landing beside Ash, hoping and trusting that with all the commotion Alec would fulfill his job to disguise me from the masses.

  “Do you think I pulled it off?” I murmured, hoping he could hear me above the madness.

  “Look around.”

  People were already turning and looking for Anastasia. Whispering about the weak Head of Council that couldn’t defend her people and let a Vampire go, while simultaneously calling her a hypocrite for trying to execute a Born Vampire that was practically royalty.

  This didn’t sit well with the paranormals of the black market, but it was nothing compared to the shitshow that would be starting up all over the world once people heard the news.

>   Paranormals looked every which way for me—for Anastasia—for the Supernatural Head of Council, but no one saw me standing there among them. Not when Alec had made me just another face in the crowd. They saw what he wanted them to see, and the powerful, invincible, untouchable Anastasia Fortescue was long gone.

  Finally showing the rest of the world the coward she really was.

  Chapter 37

  Ten minutes.

  That’s how long it took me to realize that I was different than the other Made as Victor walked me out of my room, arm-in-arm. For me to notice the quiet looks of envy. They were my first inclination something wasn’t quite right.

  Two hours.

  That’s how long it took for me to put together that Victor was more powerful than I’d originally thought. He wasn’t simply an errand boy to a higher Born. He was a higher Born.

  Five hours.

  That’s how long it took me to realize that him walking me around the fief was not necessarily a good sign. That his tender hold of my arm was meant to manipulate me into believing it was. That his gentle probing of my life before was not pure curiosity.

  Twelve hours.

  That’s how long it took me to figure out the truth. That Victor was not all he claimed to be.

  But something more.

  It started as an itch I couldn’t scratch and blossomed into a well of anxiety the darkness stroked. Feeding my irrationalities and paranoia. Telling me something wasn’t right.

  The problem was I couldn’t see how the pieces fit together. Shards of truth and lies. Slivers of unspoken understandings. Scraps of black and white secondhand information I thought I’d never use.

  Twenty-four hours.

  That’s how long I got to enjoy my freedom before a Vampire stepped through an elevator, shouting about a deal and a devil.

  History teachers in America talk about the Revolutionary War and the shot heard around the world. I’d never understood it quite like I did in that moment.

  I was walking in the garden with Victor—pretending to marvel at all the things that no longer brought me joy. How could they? The lilies that should be dead this time of year, that shouldn’t grow on land this cold and hard, that Victor just loved showing me—shouldn’t be alive and thriving. They should be as cold and withered as I am. And yet, they weren’t.

  Victor plucked one from its stalk with deft, bone-white fingers, offering it to me. It took all of my willpower to reach out and accept the flower without strangling him instead.

  “I had these brought here for you, you know,” he said. As if that made him some type of saint. Like he was the good guy in this story. Like he deserved my thanks. My praise.

  Still, I tilted my head submissively and murmured, “Thank you.”

  “You know, flower, I have found your obedience to be quite refreshing. Enough so that…” He paused. In the distance at the far edges of where my hearing could reach, a man was shouting. I frowned.

  No one ever raised their voice here. For one, the Born did not tolerate it.

  For two, it wasn’t needed.

  Yet someone was shouting.

  “What is that?”

  He scowled. I tried not to grimace about what that might mean for me, given what happened last time he was displeased. The darkness pulsed just beneath my skin, I tried to pull it tight, but it was too late. He tilted his head, examining me closely.

  “Something wrong, flower?”

  I shook my head slowly, thankful for the lack of a beating heart and rushing blood. It’s amazing how much less fear one can feel when your biological urges are no longer riding you.

  “No, I just…” I stumbled for the briefest of seconds and had to close my mouth and bow my head. It was that or let him see how little he frightened me. “My apologies, sir.”

  “There is no need, my beautiful flower. I think I see what’s going on here.” I stayed silent. “You’re concerned for my well-being, aren’t you?”

  I pressed my lips together at how laughable that idea was. Not that he could know that.

  Not until I knew for certain if I was right. Until it was time.

  I raised my face, widening my eyes so they appeared larger. Innocent, despite the blood on my hands. The blood I so easily spilled for this man. For my freedom.

  “Yes,” I murmured, speaking softly so he took my lie for sincerity.

  Victor raised a hand to my cheek, cupping it.

  “You are perfect, Lily. Simply perfect.” He dropped his hand away, holding it out for me to take. Victor was not a gentle man. He wasn’t a man at all. He was a cold-blooded killer.

  A murderer. A Vampire.

  But I suppose we were no different in that way.

  I placed my hand in his.

  “Come. You are ready.”

  We walked hand in hand through a garden that flourished on blood and bones and death. A garden where lilies grew, no matter how harsh the conditions.

  And maybe unnatural magic kept them alive.

  But unnatural magic was also what kept me alive.

  And like these lilies, I was going to survive.

  No matter how many lies I had to tell. People I had to kill. Pieces of my soul I had to sell.

  I would survive.

  And with the sunrise behind me and my enemy leading me, I turned my back on the light. Embracing the darkness.

  The shouting grew louder. More fevered. Desperate. I straightened my spine as Victor led me down a hallway lined with Vampires. Made. Except unlike me, they were not walking with a Born Vampire towards the double doors at the end of the hall. They were standing outside them.

  Red eyes watched me. Cautious. Jealous. Creepy. Everything in-between. I did not spare even a glance in their direction. Maybe that’s what separated us.

  They were too busy fighting over scraps with each other. I was smart enough to know where the real power was, and strong enough to reach for it.

  Victor didn’t stop his stride. He walked with purpose. No one questioned him when a pair of lower Born opened those double doors and he ushered us in.

  I let my eyes flick up to take a snap shot of the room that my memory would process later. Lowering them again, before anyone, especially Victor, could read the curiosity on my face.

  I’d never seen a room as stark white as this one. Pure marble made up every foot, every inch, every crack. It was carved and crafted into ornate walls that rose sixty feet. From where we stood, the floor descended inward. An amphitheater…but with an elevator?

  I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my face tight. Impassive.

  An elevator in here didn’t make sense. This building was old. Really old. Not to mention Vampires didn’t seem too fond on most technology, and it wasn’t like any of them would need it to get around. We moved faster than an elevator could.

  So why did they have it?

  A man stood in the center of the floor down below, glaring up at us with hateful eyes. His silver hair and light skin was streaked with mud and grit.

  “Gregory Kamarov. We haven’t heard from you in a time. What brings you home to the Motherland?”

  Victor was the first and only one of the congregated Vampires to speak, drawing their gaze to us. Dozens and dozens of some of the most ruthless predators in the world looked to Victor with respect, and then their eyes dropped to me.

  “You bring a Made into the Council, Victor,” a Born woman two platforms below said. Her voice cut sharp, like metal meeting metal. “Have you no propriety?”

  “What I do is none of your concern, Nikita,” Victor replied, his tone pleasant but his words sharp. I didn’t move a muscle.

  “This is not the time for dinner or pleasantries, Victor. Surely even you can see reason here as to why the lessers are not welcome?” the woman prompted.

  A muscle in Victor’s jaw twitched.

  “What she means to say, Son,” said another voice, though I couldn’t tell where it came from, “is why have you brought a Made into our sacred space? Surely she could wait
outside with the others.”

  Where was that voice coming from? And why did it sound so old?

  Yes, most of them gathered here had to be hundreds, maybe even thousands of years old, but they never sounded like it. This voice did.

  “Lily is not like the others, Father. She is special.”

  How was it that he could pay me a compliment and still make it sound condescending

  “Special how?” the same ancient voice spoke, deep and dark, brimming with power.

  As the Made in question, I was unsure how I was supposed to respond. How Victor wanted me to respond. When he saw the darkness swirl beneath my skin—what he assumed was for him, his safety—he declared me ready. For what? I wasn’t entirely sure.

  I had been weak and docile in his mind for months. Hardly worth his time of day until I showed my hand. My power. Which meant he didn’t want weak, but he also preferred my obedience. He didn’t want me to turn from the violence of this world but I was to be a dog on a chain.

  Victor wanted me to straddle a razor edge, where either side ended in my destruction.

  Oh, what precarious positions he liked to put me in.

  Victor squeezed my hand sharply, but not quite painful. I turned my face to his, asking without saying a word. Asking him what he wanted me to do.

  He looked to my hands and jutted his chin toward the female Vampire. Nikita.

  Did he mean—was he asking—was I supposed to kill her?

  I dropped Victor’s hand and took a step towards the edge of the marbled floor. With him, my eyes were to be averted, but with them—with them I would show no mercy. If Victor wanted me to be his guard dog—his pet—unknowingly feeding me while at it…then why not?

  I took another step. And then another. And when I reached the edge of the platform, I stepped off and dropped the three feet to the first level in the amphitheater without losing my step.

  I walked towards the sneering, belittling woman who would rather see me dead. And when I stood before her, almost a foot shorter, surrounded by other Born who might attack, prepared to have to defend myself, I did not ask Victor what he wanted. I wrapped my small, slender fingers halfway around her hand.

 

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