by Ali Winters
Cherno lets out a soft squeak as if confirming. I start at the seemingly intelligent reply.
“Is that why Alaric sent you to my rooms?”
Another squeak.
I smile and shake my head. I’ve been awake less than ten minutes and I’m already having an imaginary conversation with a vampire’s pet bat.
It will be several hours before the sun will be at its peak. I look around the room, not sure how to spend my time.
Outside the window, the sky is a dreary gray. Thick clouds, heavy with rain, swallow up every inch of blue in the early morning haze.
I untie the string holding my clothes together. Embarrassment washes over me after examining the newly redone pockets. They are more hidden and reinforced. The seams are straight and sturdy, and it’s only by looking at these that I realize how terrible my sewing skills truly are.
There is no point in dwelling on it, so I reach back to untie my nightshift and stop, aware of a set of eyes watching my every move.
“Turn around,” I say to the bat, moving my finger in a circle. My jaw drops when Cherno does as instructed.
I snap my mouth shut—just a coincidence. Or maybe Alaric took the time to train the creature with basic gestures and commands?
That must be it.
I dress quickly. This has been a strange morning so far, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
I take my book from my night table and sit in the chair near the fire and try to read. It’s only after a dozen pages that I realize I haven’t paid attention to a single word. I sigh, giving up, and close the book.
Tapping a finger on my chin, I mull over what Mr. Steward said.
Three more guests, plus Mr. Harkstead, and Alaric, makes five vampires under one roof. Alaric is one thing. I have spent enough time with him to know he won’t come for me in the middle of the night to end my life. I know what to expect from him.
A chill skitters down my spine. Mr. Harkstead terrifies me. He is a predator in a way Alaric never was, even when I thought he might kill me.
How different could they be to visit Alaric? Then again, he did warn me—he even offered me an easy way out. I am a fool for not taking the opening Alaric had given me last night. But I stand by my choice—I don’t want the mark. I will win my freedom and go home to Kitty.
I set the book down and pace. It is not late in the afternoon yet, but it is close, and I am crawling out of my skin with nothing but my thoughts.
The sun is peeking through the clouds, burning away the morning gloom. I wonder why it was so important to wait until midday. Are vampires unable to stand the bright light?
Either way, it’s close enough to noon.
I grab the dagger from under my pillow. Cherno’s head pops up as I hide it in my pocket. I ignore the creature and stride out of the room. The sound of flapping leather wings follows me down the hall.
Once I am outside, Cherno disappears. The day is chilly but bright. The sky is a clear, bright blue that stretches on endlessly.
I’ve never been to the stables during my time here, but I find my way to them effortlessly. Behind the barn is a large fenced in field where two large, black horses graze. One has white covering the bottom portion of its two hind legs. The other has a spot of white between its eyes. While they are roughly the same size as other horses I have seen, they are sturdier. They look as if they were built to be powerful rather than fast.
A twig snaps underfoot. The horses lift their massive heads, nostrils flaring. I am glad there is a fence between us. I’m not sure they aren’t demon born.
They must decide I pose no threat because they eventually ignore me and resume grazing. I cautiously approach the fence. The closest one watches me warily.
Their thick manes nearly brush the ground every time they reach for another bite.
I fold my arms on the top rung of the fence and rest my chin, content to watch them. I’ve only seen horses tethered to wagons laden with straps and equipment, or the occasional carriage. In both cases, their coats were patchy and legs coated in mud. These two don’t have a speck of dirt on them. It’s clear they are well cared for.
The horse with the mark on its forehead meanders near me, its velvety coat gleams in the sunlight.
I reach out to pet the animal when a rich, deep voice asks, “Do you ride?”
Alaric’s warm breath brushes over my ear, sending a tingling sensation skittering down my spine.
I spin, nearly losing my balance, and catch myself on the fence.
Alaric takes a step back. The sun guilds his black hair bringing out hints of blue in the shining strands.
“What are you doing out right now? I thought the sun…” I trail off, not entirely sure what I thought. I only know that Mr. Steward told me to wait until midday before leaving my rooms.
Alaric inches closer, dipping his head as if he will whisper a secret. “The sun doesn’t kill us—if that’s what you thought. It weakens our powers, so most vampires prefer to sleep at this time. We are demon cursed, not demons themselves.”
“You don’t sleep during the day?” I ask.
He smiles. “Sometimes, but I wanted to talk with you in private.” He moves closer, caging me in with his arms, though it’s hardly necessary with his body pinning me to the fence.
We have been more intimate than this before, but there’s also something different about this moment.
“What are you doing?”
Alaric pulls in a breath, then offers a rueful smile. “Ah, yes.” He pulls back slightly. “You see, my guests are watching from the window. They believe you are marked, so if we keep our distance, it would seem odd, and they might guess the truth. So, unless you wish me to give you the mark…”
I don’t want it, so I play along. I lift a hand and run my fingers through his hair. This feels awkward. I’m not sure what to do with my other hand, but after a moment’s hesitation, I settle with resting it on his upper arm.
“Good girl,” Alaric says, but there’s no joy in his tone or expression.
If I didn’t know better, I would say he was disappointed.
Pretending for others feels wrong. Every time we’ve been close in the past, it just happened. But that doesn’t stop my heart from hammering at his nearness now.
“So, do you?” he asks.
I lick my lips and try to remember what we are talking about. “Do I what?”
“Ride.” Alaric angles his head in the direction of the horses.
I have seen horses, I’ve been near them, but I’ve never so much as touched one, let alone ridden one. No one in Littlemire rode horses. They were beasts of burden, tools for people to use. Only the rich owned them, taking them riding on hunts as part of their celebrations.
“No, I have never had occasion to.”
“Then,” he says, moving to the side and leaping over the fence in a single, fluid motion. The horse with the white mark on its forehead trots up to him the moment his feet land. “Perhaps, this is a perfect opportunity.”
Alaric mounts the horse without a saddle or reins.
But when he holds a hand out, beckoning me to him, I have no choice but to squeeze my way between the gaps in the fence boards and go to him.
I stop beside him. Sitting astride the horse, he towers over me, and I have to crane my neck back to look up at him.
The animal is massive and made of solid muscle. Alaric sits with his legs straddling the beast, but I, however, am wearing a dress. I’m not sure how this will work.
I take a deep breath and slip my hand into his. He effortlessly pulls me up in front of him.
My eyes widen. This is so high off the ground and sitting as I am, I feel as though I could slip and fall off at any moment.
The horse shifts impatiently. I let out a small squeak.
“Are you all right?”
“I—yes, but will I fall?”
“I would never let you fall,” he says. At first, I think he’s teasing me, but his face is serious. “You can put one leg on
either side of the horse if that would make you more comfortable.”
“I’m wearing a dress,” I say through clenched teeth.
He shrugs, and the horse starts to move.
“Fine,” I say.
His arm tightens around my waist, and I indelicately move one leg to the other side. My skirt bunches up around my thighs, showing the lower half of my legs. I should be embarrassed, but there is only Alaric and nature for as far as the eye can see as we move away from the manor.
The horse walks at a leisurely pace. I hold my breath, waiting for the horse to take off at a teeth-jarring run. But the ride is smooth and steady.
At my back, Alaric holds me against him with his arm, hand splayed across my belly. I feel safe. My breathing evens and I lean back into him without thinking.
We ride in silence for the first lap around the pasture.
“What did you mean by you being demon cursed?” I ask.
I know he heard me because every muscle in his body goes rigid at my back. He says nothing for so long I’m not sure he will answer.
“It is a figure of speech—nothing more,” Alaric says in a clipped tone. His fingers twitch as if he’s calculating his thoughts and unaware of this tick.
It’s a lie. If that were true, he would have replied immediately. I twist to face him and find his mouth inches from my own.
My heart thumps against my ribs, remembering the feel of his full lips. Demons and saints…
I swallow those thoughts and meet his gaze. “No, I don’t think so,” I say sharply. He frowns, his sapphire eyes darkening. This time I speak in a kinder tone. “You don’t need to lie to me. I should think we were past all that. Whatever it is, you can trust me.”
I’m not sure why I say that. I’ve never given Alaric a reason to trust me. I’ve spent weeks attempting to stab him…
Things feel different between us now. I’m not sure when they changed. Maybe the night he was injured, or the night when I would have given him everything had he not stopped us, or two nights ago when Elise tried to kill me.
Or some other moment, or perhaps all of them combined.
There’s a heavy pause hovering between us as I realize those words are true. Alaric must come to the same conclusion because his features soften.
“I have said too much already, and we have other matters we must discuss.”
I want to push but decide to let it go, for now.
With his free hand, he reaches up and pulls my hair over one shoulder. And then his mouth rests against my skin. My pulse jumps and I know he can feel it as he places slow kisses along the space between my neck and shoulder.
Between his kisses, the hand holding me to him, and the other resting on my upper thigh, a haze settles over my thoughts, clouding my mind. Warmth pools low in my belly. It takes everything in me to keep from shaking my head in an attempt to clear it. I am thankful his hands aren’t wandering freely, then thinking would be impossible.
“This visit will be dangerous for you,” he whispers between kisses.
And with those words, icy adrenaline floods my veins.
“But I will do everything in my power to protect you. They are not to be trusted, so don’t let your guard down, even for a second.” Another kiss. “And always carry the dagger.”
I swallow. Were it not for Alaric’s words keeping me grounded, I might almost believe this moment is real.
“What about this,” I ask, pressing my back against him to indicate how intimate he is when we are seemingly alone.
He breathes a heavy sigh. “We must make them believe you have the mark. I will touch you as if you are mine.”
My heart lodges between my ribs and Alaric smiles against my shoulder.
“And not just when you attempt to kill me.” The corners of his lips turn down. “Forgive me, my dear Clara, that bargain must be placed on hold for the time being. We cannot have them knowing the truth if you wish to live.”
“Then, how am I to earn my freedom?”
“For now, let’s concentrate on keeping you alive. You can have your freedom—when it is safe.”
My head swims and my stomach is in knots. I am glad he stopped kissing me. He’d offered me an escape last night, but like a fool, I had refused. At the time, it had felt wrong somehow to accept the easy out. Like cheating.
Now I understand why he made the offer.
“I want to get down,” I say, my voice is soft and desperate.
The horse comes to a stop. I open my eyes, unaware of when I had closed them. We are in the exact spot where we mounted.
Alaric dismounts quickly then reaches up to take me by the waist and guides me down. My legs shake, but he doesn’t release me yet. Instead, he pulls me in close, wrapping his arms around me.
“When I touch you, understand that I am doing so to protect you.” There is hesitation in his voice. “Do you trust me on this?”
Do I trust him? I have been trying to kill him, to draw blood and win my freedom… He is a vampire—a monstrous beast that rips families apart—and I’m only human. I hate him for what he is, and he hates me for killing his sister.
Yet he is asking if I trust him with my life.
I pull back to look him in the eye and say, “Yes.”
Chapter Three
Clara
We walk arm in arm back into the house. Neither of us speaks. This is a game. One that could be deadly for me if I misstep. Though I still don't understand why other vampires would care what he does with me. Alaric claimed me—that should be the only thing that matters.
But there is so much more to this than I ever anticipated. All I wanted to do was keep my sister safe and alive. I have spent the last month and a half trying to get back to her.
Once inside, I blink to adjust my eyes to the dim light. Standing in the doorway of the drawing room is the vampire from last night. He holds a goblet full of what I can only assume is blood.
“Run, little human. Hide. The others are coming, and they are far more dangerous than even I…”
His hazel eyes follow us. Nerves crawl up my spine.
Alaric guides my chin up with one finger. He gives me a tight smile and pulls me a little closer into his side.
The walk to my rooms has never felt so long. I can practically feel the gazes of all four of the vampire guests following us. Though I don’t see them, I know they are there.
I enter, turning to close the door, but he is already inside.
Alaric raises a brow as if he knew I’d intended to shut him out.
“Clara,” he starts, and there’s something in the way he says my name that makes me bristle. “If I mark you—”
“No,” I say, not even letting him finish. “We have been over this before. You know why I don’t want the mark.”
He looks distraught. Now I feel terrible for snapping. I step up to him. Genuine worry darkens his eyes. I reach up and brush my fingers along his brow to smooth away the frown lines. He is worried about my safety.
“I do not know what to do with you,” he says.
It would be insulting from someone else’s mouth, but he doesn’t mean it in the way a human or another vampire would.
“It will be okay.” I have no idea if that is true. It doesn’t matter, because we both see it for what it is—a useless platitude. But it’s all I have to give.
He steps back and nods. “I will continue to ask you to reconsider the mark until you change your mind, or you are safe.”
I grit my teeth until my jaw aches. He knows my answer will always be no.
“You know the laws, Clara. You have always known them. Once claimed, a human is at the whim of their vampire master until death.”
My eye twitches. Master. My heart races for the second time today, but now it is for an entirely different reason.
I am not a thing to be owned.
“Then what is the point of this charade?” I hiss, motioning between us. “If you are my master and I must fall to your will, then why not bite me now
and be done with it? If what I want means so little, why pretend you are giving me a choice at all? Just force the mark on me already and be done with it. Or better yet, kill me.”
Baiting a vampire… not exactly a smart move on my part. One might actually believe I want to die.
His eyes narrow and he lets out a low snarl, fangs bared. I take an involuntary step back, but he advances, closing the distance between us until his chest is flush with mine.
“The point, dear Clara, is that the last thing I want is to have a human unwillingly tied to me for the remainder of their life.”
My eyes widen at the venom of his words. I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand, staying me.
“I continue to ask,” he says, his voice is soft and low. He looks exhausted. “Because I do not know of a better way to keep the others away from you.”
I’m not ready to let go of this argument, though there is little point in fighting for the sake of it when Alaric doesn't seem willing to continue.
“Fine,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Keep asking me if you must, but I can only promise to think about it. I don’t understand why you are pushing this. We’ve already agreed to—” Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “To-to make them believe I am yours.”
My heart pounds at hearing myself say those last three words. They are words I can’t mean, and it’s not something I can want. Xander is still waiting for me.
I turn to face the window and wrap my arms around my middle.
The view of the property and the tangled forest beyond has become more familiar than the one outside my bedroom window back in Littlemire.
“At least it won’t be for too long,” I say. There is a silence at my back that has me turning on him, eyes wide. My voice raises an octave, “Will it be long?”
The answer is in his unwillingness to look me in the eye. “There is more to the situation than I said earlier.”
I drop my arms to my side, my hand bumps against the blade at my hip. I have half a mind to run him through with it right now.
“Why did you withhold information you knew I would want? You say you need me to trust you, but then you do this. How can I trust you if you keep things from me?”