Atticus stepped forward. “Excuse me, Your Majesty, for interrupting, but this is Princess Onyx’s first mission. Perhaps I should stay nearby to ensure all goes smoothly.”
“Absolutely not.” Olwen shot Atticus a glare, who backed away. “You know the customs of our people. Royalty or not, nobody is pampered and protected from the battlefront.” He focused on me. “Onyx, do not return until you have collected the blood of your victim. I will be able to test it and know whether you have collected the correct blood.” Olwen reached into his suit pocket and revealed a small glass vial. “Succeed tomorrow tonight, and you’ll be one of us.”
I took the jar, hardening inside.
Time for the prey to turn into the hunter.
Atticus drove me into Denver at dawn. I didn’t know how to drive yet, having never had the chance to get a license, so I had to rely on him for this task. Even though he wouldn’t be coming with me, having company distracted me from my nerves. And so did the fact that I’d have all day to track down my victim.
“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Atticus gripped the wheel hard, showing signs that the iron in the car was getting to him. As a pureblooded fae too much exposure to iron weakened him and could cause a range of symptoms, from headaches to throwing up.
“Drop me off at the bus station.” I fingered the bills in my pocket. For the first time in my life, I had real money, courtesy of my new status.
Atticus obeyed and pulled into a wide drive. “Here.” He handed me a brand-new cell phone. “Call me when you’re done. I will collect you.”
Alive, I hope. Quickly, I cast that thought aside.
“Thanks.” I stuffed the cell into my jeans pocket, then checked my purple hair was still in a low ponytail and covered my ears. Then I got out of the vehicle, eyeing the fleet of buses. My designer jeans and fancy blazer outfit was finished off with a calf-skin, crossbody bag. Besides my hair color, I did not look like Onyx Logan, and that was the point.
The morning summer sun warmed my clothes, and the breeze, a promise of freedom, kissed my skin. I could go anywhere in the city. Where did I start?
As much as I wanted to go straight to Vulthus, I knew I wasn’t ready. First, I had to go after an easier target. This way I’d earn Olwen’s respect, and together, we’d take down the monster.
Sullivan’s history lessons would come in handy. His class had covered all the important vamps and what companies they ran. I’d have plenty of clues on where to go. I wandered into the bus station and sought out a phone book. Thankfully, the station had a few battered ones lying around like ancient artifacts. I scrolled, glad I hadn’t brought any actual weapons for the security guards to detect. A Winter fae warrior proving herself had to rely on her wits, according to Olwen. Weapons wouldn’t always be available.
Denver Mobile. My finger landed on the large ad for the small phone company that served the area. If I remembered Sullivan’s lessons right, Denver Mobile was the brainchild of a vamp named Stanley MacGregor, who was the CEO of the company plus a couple of others. He must live in the area.
“Thanks, Lord Sullivan,” I said, closing the book.
My next stop was the public library where I used a computer to get on the Internet and looked up information about Stanley MacGregor, the CEO. There was a short Internet article about him cutting the tape for Denver Mobile in an evening ceremony, but little else. He might be a rich vamp, but he wasn’t a super famous one. Apparently, he didn’t come out of his home very often, which meant he’d likely be there tonight.
His address wasn’t listed anywhere. Stanley MacGregor must’ve paid to keep his location a secret, not that this would stop me.
Since I couldn’t call Denver Mobile and ask to speak to the CEO, I’d have to find him and follow him back to his place, or find one of his workers and follow them back. I turned my Internet search to news about Denver Mobile, and after finding a business magazine for the area, I learned there would be a meeting between Denver Mobile and Neighborhood Mobile to discuss a merger. Tonight, at eight, at the Denver Mobile headquarters across town.
The longer I waited outside the headquarters, which was on the second floor of a shared office building in downtown Denver, the more nervous I got. People came and went as I hung out in the lobby, pretending to read a magazine. The receptionist must’ve thought I was waiting for someone to get out of work. Fine by me. With my fancy clothes, I thankfully looked like I belonged here.
People in suits entered and exited the elevator. None of them looked familiar. I kept most of my face hidden, hating the scent of the perfume Atticus had made me spray myself with to mask my fae scent. It would last for up to twenty-four hours and was starting to make my temples throb.
At eight forty-five, I got up, walked outside, and circled around the back of the office building. There was still a bit of daylight this time of the year, so I searched for a car with tinted windows.
I found what I was looking for at the back of the parking lot: a limo with windows tinted so dark that I couldn’t see through them. I also glimpsed an alley leading back to the main street. This was how Stanley had entered. Better yet, the limo was parked right up against a very large awning, complete with walls, that promised to block the sun at all hours.
I ducked back around and waited, knowing I’d have to get a cab once the limo moved. Since standing around on a street was suspicious and didn’t give me the best vantage point, I crossed the street and entered a coffee shop, taking a seat by the window.
Nothing happened for a long time. Cabs went by almost every minute in this busy part of downtown, so I decided not to call one but rather flag one down when the time came.
Finally, the limo peeled out of the parking lot across from me. I dashed out of the cafe and flagged down the first cab I saw, heart pounding.
“Follow the black limo,” I said, jumping into the car and pointing straight ahead as the limo turned to corner.
“What is this?” the driver asked with a heavy accent. “An action movie?”
I didn’t have time for humor. The limo was getting away from us, growing smaller and smaller and passing through a green light. I threw the guy a hundred-dollar bill, which he surveyed with an open mouth. Then he pressed the gas pedal and we were off.
“Stay well behind it,” I said, and he did. The guy was a good driver, weaving in and out of traffic and blowing through a yellow light at the last moment.
The limo drove to the outskirts of town and then to a wealthy neighborhood complete with stone walls, fancy mailboxes, and manicured lawns.
The limo pulled into a wide garage next to a small mansion, the runt of the neighborhood, but still lavish.
“Drive past it,” I told the driver. I slid down low in my seat and hoped nobody saw me. When we were several houses past where the limo had stopped, I told the driver to pull to a stop.
“Thanks.” I jumped out of the sedan and hid behind some bushes for ten minutes in case any security feed had picked up the other car following the limo. When no vamp guards came searching for me, I walked to the back of the mansion.
Had I come here in my typical ripped jeans and cheap hoodie, someone would’ve long called the police on me. But my newer, sleeker look allowed me to walk the neighborhood without anyone stopping me. Still, my clothing couldn’t solve all of my problems.
I was met with an eight-foot-high stone wall at the back of Stanley’s property. The brick was smooth and the spikes on the top of the wall would terrify even the bravest of burglars.
I cursed. How would I get in? The place must have another entrance. The stone wall offered no footholds, but there was another tall, narrower gate further down, complete with a keypad. Of course, Stanley would have an emergency exit.
Maybe I could short it out and get in. Then I’d have to deal with guards and possible fae slaves who had Stockholm Syndrome. How many people did Stanley employ?
The keypad was one of those electronic ones where you put in the code, similar to what I’d s
een Thorsten use at Nocturnal Academy. I gathered humidity from the air and directed it into the keypad, hoping that freezing the insides would unlock the gate.
With an exhale, I allowed ice to form inside the keypad. The screen flickered, and I let the ice inside melt. The keypad made a fizzling noise and went dead, and then the gate itself gave a gentle click. My heart leapt. I was in luck.
I pushed open the gate and crept onto the grounds of Stanley MacGregor’s home.
His lawn wasn’t huge, but there were a lot of trees that offered umbrellas of shadows. Not surprising for a vamp since sun was one of their kryptonite. A couple of black-uniformed guards patrolled the edge of the yard, chatting with each other, but their backs were to me. Guards were typically low-level vamps. I could take them in a fight so long as they didn’t sound any alarms.
Before I lost my bravery, I darted across the yard and to the back of the house. The grass cushioned my steps, and the perfume was still blocking my fae scent. I reached the back door with the guards none the wiser about my presence. The problem was that the back door was locked. Using ice on it wouldn’t get me anywhere, but there was an open window that seemed to lead into the kitchen. Someone, probably a servant, had opened it earlier and forgotten to lock it. I listened for noises coming from the kitchen, but it was quite inside. I rose onto my tiptoes and heaved myself through the window, landing in a dim kitchen that smelled faintly of exotic coffee.
A sharp intake of breath, and then a small voice asked, “Who are you?”
Every muscle tensed. Shit. I had heard nothing, but someone was here.
My gaze landed first on a heavy iron chain, which was connected to a leg shackle around a bare, weeping ankle. Iron weakened full-blooded fae and made them feel unwell. Even if the fae in front of me wasn’t affected by the iron, she was still in a sorry state. Her outfit, a glittery, white mini skirt and ballerina type top, represented innocence and was meant to make her look younger than her eighteen or nineteen years. Her chain was attached to the stove and long enough to go into the adjacent dining room. This fae was probably meant to entertain guests, cook, and do things I’d rather not think about.
Then I looked up, and my jaw dropped as I saw her face.
Lily.
The realization hit me like a truck as our gazes met. Her mouth also fell open. She was missing a tooth and a fading bruise looked like a washed-out tattoo on her arm. Most of the life had already gone from her eyes. She was a toy on display, a flower for Stanley MacGregor to crush.
Rage and ice roared back into my chest along with every emotion I’d been trying to block out for weeks.
Footsteps approached the kitchen. “Fae,” a male voice sing-songed. “Is the coffee ready?”
Lily was just an object here. A glazed look came over her eyes and she turned away from me, reaching for the fancy coffee machine. I was standing in the kitchen, about to get busted, and she acted like a machine.
Magic crackled in my fingertips.
The old, fat vamp who had danced with her at Nocturnal Academy entered the room. He froze, looking like an overstuffed penguin, as his gaze fell on me.
This was Stanley MacGregor.
I summoned an ice stake as he stood there, trying to process why a random girl had appeared in his kitchen. Stanley’s posture stiffened, and he took a step back, but it was too late. My rage burst through me, carrying all the guilt and hate I had bottled up.
“Die.” I let the stake fly. It impaled Stanley straight in his heart with a sickening thud. I had practiced since Vulthus, and it was paying off. Despite their speed and strength, vampires died just as other creatures did when stabbed through the heart.
Stanley grabbed the wall for support as dark blood spurted from his chest. I smiled as Lily’s tormentor collapsed to his knees.
Chapter 8
Stanley went still, and the silence thickened in the kitchen. He twitched a few times as death gripped him. I reached into my pocket and drew out the vial. Once I collected his blood, I sent more magic into my ice dagger, ready to finish him off. Stanley’s body coated over with ice and then it shattered into a thousand pieces.
Lily rushed to the sink and gagged. She threw up once, twice, thrice before running the water and washing out her mouth. “You killed him,” she stammered, staring at the ice pieces that used to be Stanley and were now melting and creating a puddle on the ground.
“You’re welcome,” I replied coolly. This had been easy, almost too easy. I needed to get out before the guards realized their employer was dead.
Lily straightened up slowly. “You didn’t need to go that far.”
“Yes, I did.” I took a step toward Lily, and she shrank back, grabbing the counter. “He was a monster, and now you’re free of him.” I pocketed the vial of blood I had collected for Olwen. I wasn’t sure how Olwen would test this blood, but maybe the scent would be enough.
I stared at the huge puddle on the ground that had been Stanley only a minute ago. Gritting my teeth, I reminded myself that the vamp had deserved it and that I had killed. I’d be fine as long as I got out of here soon.
“Why did you take his blood?” Lily asked, but I didn’t respond. I had to hurry. I pocketed the vial and searched Stanley’s belt, smiling when I found the keyring on his hip. I grabbed it and advanced toward Lily. This time, she didn’t retreat, but broke out into tremors. “The guards will think I did it,” she half-whispered, half-sobbed.
As if a switch had been flipped within me, I reverted back to the old days where I had comforted Lily. “They won’t, and even if they do, it won’t matter, because you’ll be long gone by then.” Not meeting her gaze, I undid the shackles around her wrists and ankles. I knew I should leave, but my feet were rooted to the ground. Guilt nearly suffocated me. I had left her behind at the academy. Everything that Stanley McGregor had done to her, could’ve been prevented.
Lily stepped out of the cuffs. Both bare ankles had blisters from the iron exposure. “I’m not like you Onyx. I won’t survive out there.”
I gritted my teeth. She was right. She was not like me. If I left her to her own devices, she’d be captured again, and then she’d be tortured for information. I couldn’t let her blab. I had to take her with me. Are you sure that’s the only reason? I shushed the nasty voice in my head and motioned to the window. Guilt would not win. “Try to keep up and don’t let the guards outside see you.”
I climbed out of the kitchen window, not bothering to turn around to see if Lily was following, but knowing that she was since grunting and sliding noises sounded behind me. Lily sobbed quietly as she jumped from the window, but I ignored it. Yes, I was planning to take her back, but not if she acted like a wimp.
I glanced around the dark yard and motioned her through the shadows, back to the rear gate I had frozen open. It had closed by itself, but the lock hadn’t engaged so I pushed it open as Lily watched with an open mouth.
Somewhere, a guard laughed. They were oblivious and would be until they found the puddle in the kitchen. Once they realized that Stanley had been killed by a Winter fae, they would blame Lily. Having her speak about me would only put me in danger.
“What about the others? There are more fae in the building,” she said as we walked around the front of the property and onto the main street.
I shook my head and shushed her. I couldn’t take a whole parade of fae with me. “We can’t do a Q and A now.” I felt my pocket to ensure I still had the blood vial and the cell phone to call Atticus.
Not wanting to be a standing target by waiting for Atticus close to Stanley’s manor, I hiked uphill. Lily trailed behind me, thankfully, staying silent. Fifteen minutes later, I dared to retrieve my cell and call Atticus. So far, no sirens had gone off, but vamps didn’t call the human authorities. They had their own.
“I’m done,” I said when he answered. “Can you pick me up ASAP? I’m on the corner of Twiggly Elm and Pine Street.”
“On my way.”
“My location—”
>
“I have it.” He hung up, and I pressed my mouth into a firm line. Good to know that the phone acted like a tracker.
“Who did you call?” Lily hugged her thin arms around her ballerina top, shivering as her teeth chattered. Even in the summer, the night air cooled and she wasn’t dressed for the elements. I focused on her ankles, still red and raw from the iron. That was better than staring her in the eye.
“A friend.” Was that what Atticus was to me? “He’ll be here soon.”
Lily looked me up and down. “You’re looking good. Took me a moment to recognize you back in the kitchen.” At least she had stopped crying.
I nodded but didn’t provide an explanation. I had chosen to take Lily with me, but that didn’t mean that we could go back to being besties. Relief swept through me as the generic silver sedan pulled up a minute later, Atticus in the driver’s seat.
“Who is this?” Lily asked.
I opened the door and pushed Lily in, not in the mood to deal with her hesitation. Then I got into the front passenger seat and slammed the door shut.
Atticus’s brows drew together at the sight of Lily, but he didn’t demand I kick her out. Good. He was a guard, and I was royalty. Not wasting any time, he started driving. However, as soon as we were on the highway, he said, “Olwen won’t be happy. Why did you pick up a stray fae? That wasn’t part of the job description.”
Knowing that saying that she used to be my roomie wouldn’t be an acceptable explanation, I simply stated, “She’s a witness. I climbed through the kitchen window. She was there. I killed Stanley MacGregor in front of her and if I had left her, they would have made her talk.”
Lily breathed out and deflated behind me.
Atticus nodded. “Fair point. Leaving witnesses behind is never good.”
“You’re not going to get rid of me, are you?” Lily’s tone rose, bordering on hysterical.
“No,” I replied coldly as Atticus said at the same time, “King Olwen will make the final decision.”
Savage Monarchs (A New Adult Prison Academy Novel) (Nocturnal Academy Book 3) Page 6