This had to be one of those crucial points in his development, too. His vote on this matter could very well sway the Lord and Lady Supreme into taking action against the Darklings’ blood slave trade.
Thayen looked at me, then at his mother. “I think that… if you want to drink from a blood slave, you can go out and get your own,” he finally said. “The Darklings have killed a lot of good people. They’re trying to kill Valaine, and she’s my friend. They don’t serve the empire; they serve their cause, and… I mean, they’re obviously looking to stop the Black Fever and save millions of Aeternae, and I see why they’d think their cause is just, but how sure are we that it is, since it involves murdering innocent people?”
I, for one, was floored by his statement. Simple, coherent, and remarkably effective, as Danika and Acheron raised their eyebrows at us. The boy was definitely more evolved than many of his peers. In a way, Thayen represented the future of Visio, and it felt good to see his mind so strong and inclined toward kindness and justice from such an early stage.
“Besides, there is no shortage of blood on Visio. Why even get blood slaves, when the Rimians and the Naloreans give us their blood in vials?” Thayen added. “I never understood that.”
“It’s the luxury of having a live source of blood in the house, at all times,” Danika tried to explain, her cheeks flaring red. She certainly seemed fine with the practice, visibly more comfortable than Acheron, anyway. “Fresh blood tastes much better than bottled blood.”
“Well, I think it’s elitism, and not the good kind,” Thayen replied, raising his chin.
“There you have it, my love,” Acheron murmured, downright amused and impressed. “Our son has spoken.”
“Does that mean you’ll do something about it?” I asked.
Acheron looked at me, pride beaming in his eyes. “What kind of father would I be, what kind of ruler, even, if I didn’t show my son that his opinion matters?”
I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for Thayen’s response, for he had convinced his parents to finally take action against the Darklings’ blood slave trade. It was bound to annoy the elites, sure, but like the little prince had said, they could always go out and get their own sources. Why funnel money into violent Darklings, purely for the sake of convenience?
Frankly, their discomfort was trivial when compared to the many lives lost because of the Darklings—including our Nethissis. It felt nice to be able to do something about this, even from a mere consultant’s position. I only hoped that Tristan and Esme would both return victorious from their missions.
I had no intention of leaving Visio until we settled the score with the Darklings, and Derek felt the same way. If we were to leave this planet behind in the near future, we could at least leave it a better place than we had found it.
Esme
Past midnight, Kalon, Ansel, and I reached Kalon’s lakeside cabin. It was a beautiful spot, resting on the water’s lip and surrounded by a dark and lush forest. We were miles away from the nearest road, with nothing but a giant moon and millions of stars offering their twinkling light through the rarefied layer of cotton-puff clouds.
It was quiet out here, except for the occasional cricket-like insects chirping. Some nocturnal birds pecked at a tree trunk somewhere nearby. Other than that, I found nothing but peace and tranquility. The house itself was simple but elegant, made of solid wood and erected on a tall stone foundation.
“One of my brothers built this fifty years ago,” Kalon said as he guided his brother up the wooden stairs. His hands were tied behind his back, though I knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to escape. “Simmon. He’s a couple thousand years younger than me.”
“Ansel is one of the younger siblings, right?” I asked.
Kalon nodded. “And obviously the dumbest.”
It didn’t get a reaction out of Ansel, who just stared ahead as Kalon unlocked the main door. We walked in, and Kalon set his brother aside to light some of the wall sconces. As soon as I could see properly, I found myself fawning over this place. It was the epitome of cozy, with hardwood flooring and rounded beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Iron chandeliers hung from above, crowded with candles, which Kalon lit one at a time.
The sofas in the lounge area were big and plush, with woolen throws and embroidered cushions galore. There was a massive fireplace on the eastern wall, too, though there was no need for a fire on such a warm summer night. Every single object in this room had a story to tell, I realized. Candleholders and trinket boxes, glasses and ceramic mugs and bowls… each different, brought from different corners of the world. The anthropologist in me found it hard not to observe the design details that set them so fundamentally apart while pointing out their varied provenances.
“Simmon uses it more. He comes here after a long journey,” Kalon said. He took Ansel upstairs, where more lights came on. I heard a door lock click, followed by Kalon’s footsteps as he joined me downstairs again. “Everything you see here was gathered from various trips. The ceramics are mostly of Rimian origin. The boxes and crystals are Nalorean. And, of course, lots of other souvenirs from across our continent,” he added, pointing at a wall which had been covered with different wooden masks and bas-reliefs, all painted in different colors.
“It’s wonderful,” I breathed. “I bet it’s amazing as a vacation spot.”
Kalon smiled, settling on one of the sofas. “We hunt here, as well. It’s one of the few times we settle for animal blood.”
“I suppose you hunt for the thrill of it,” I replied, imagining him running through the woods outside, stalking his prey, then pouncing and claiming his kill. I could easily see Kalon as a hunter. I’d yet to meet Simmon and the rest of his brothers, but I hoped they were all at least marginally brighter than Ansel, who’d let himself get drawn into this Darkling mess.
“Solely for the thrill. The blood isn’t all that tasty.”
I chuckled. “I can imagine. Especially since you’re all accustomed to Rimian and Nalorean blood.”
His smile faded, watching me as I stood next to the sofa, just a couple of feet within his reach. We were alone in here, and, for some reason, that made my heart beat a little bit faster. This was the most privacy the two of us had ever gotten since we’d met.
“I’m sorry, Esme,” Kalon said.
“For what?”
“For my brother. I honestly had no idea he would do something so stupid.”
I believed him. The shock I’d seen on his face upon discovering Ansel beneath the Darkling mask had been painfully genuine. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to apologize.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m a Darkling, too. I swear to you, I’m not.”
“I know.”
His gaze darkened, and he got up, suddenly towering over me. “How do you know?” His voice was burning hot and raspy, but it made my skin tingle, as if someone had left a window open overnight. “How do you know, Esme?”
I had no words, just scattered ideas jumbled in my head. I wanted to tell him about my instinct, about how he’d proven himself to me so many times. He’d saved my life when Zoltan had attacked me. How could he be a Darkling, if he’d been nothing but good to me? Me. A complete stranger, while his brother was tied up, in a room upstairs. I wanted to say all these things, but I couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.
All I could do was gaze into his cool blue eyes, swimming in that endless Arctic sea until I could no longer move or breathe. “I… I just know,” I managed.
“You give me too much credit, Esme. While I appreciate your kind thoughts, you should be more careful,” Kalon replied, closing the distance between us. For the first time in days, I felt my heart beating so fast and so hard, I worried it might leap out of my chest.
He raised a hand, gently brushing his knuckles along the line of my jaw. His touch was downright electrifying, making my whole body quiver in response. I closed my eyes for a moment, relishing every second… praying that time might stand still
so I could enjoy it properly.
But as soon as darkness settled before me, I found myself in the basement again. My leg throbbing from the scythe’s cut. My side burning from crippling pain. Dread coming over me, Zoltan about to kill me. It all came back in splinters, fleeting images and sounds. I remembered the ginger Darkling. Even though Kalon had already told me that she’d been killed that night, I could swear I’d left her breathing before he’d come in to save Trev and me.
This particular thought persisted almost angrily, making it difficult for me to concentrate, still wandering between fractured memories of that night. Unable to see or hear much that would make sense.
“Have mercy,” a woman had said. But there had been no mercy shown.
“Esme?” Kalon’s voice broke through like an echo.
I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me, his lips so close that I could barely breathe. “Yes… I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I tuned out for a bit.”
“Are you remembering something, perhaps?” he asked, his brows drawn into a frown. I shook my head. “Don’t force yourself. Take it easy.”
“I trust you, Kalon,” I said, determined to make at least some of my feelings known. The near-death experience in the palace basement had taught me a little something about seizing the moment before it was too late. This felt like one such instance.
Kalon gave me a faint smile, his gaze wandering up and down my face. “I just want you to be careful, Esme. This world… it’s wonderful, but it’s also cruel and dangerous. You can’t trust anyone.”
“This is about your brother, isn’t it?” I asked, crossing my arms. It was the only thing I could do to retain my focus, and it was enough to make him take a couple of steps back, letting the air flow between us again. “Finding out he’s a Darkling has gotten you riled up.”
Kalon sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. The silver-white strands emerged, slipping through his fingers as he walked over to one of the lounge windows, which overlooked the lake. I joined him, finding myself mesmerized by moonlight and starlight dancing across the water.
“I admit, I’m rattled. I didn’t think they’d have such a reach,” Kalon said. “The Visentis are loyal Aeternae. My father actively sought to dismantle the Darklings. I think he would’ve succeeded, too, had the Black Fever not claimed him first.”
“What your brother did does not make you any less trustworthy,” I replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re you, and Ansel is Ansel. He made his choices. You’re not to blame. You know that, Kalon.”
He nodded once. “I could’ve been there for him. I don’t know. Maybe I could’ve done something to not give him the opportunity to join the Darklings. Something must’ve been missing from Ansel’s life for him to make such a choice.”
“Maybe your mother can share some insights. I imagine Petra spent more time with Ansel than you,” I suggested, wondering what the high priestess would say once she learned that one of her sons was a Darkling.
Kalon looked at me. “What, you think my mother knew something?”
“No. Not necessarily. But maybe she saw some signs. Just enough to point out that Ansel was perhaps lost or confused or angry… I don’t know. It’s worth talking to her, though,” I said. “For the time being, I want you to know that none of my people will tell anyone about Ansel. Neither will Valaine. Not until you make a decision about your brother.”
“Thank you, Esme. I cannot convey how much I appreciate your support on this.”
“So, don’t talk about yourself like you’re Ansel, telling me not to trust you, okay?” I replied. “You saved my life, and that counts for something. For as long as I’m here, you and me… we’re a team. We stick together. Okay?”
Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he cocked his head to the side. “How strange for me to find my strength in someone like you, especially in such dark times.”
I moved away from the window, hovering around the fireplace instead. Standing so close to Kalon had all kinds of effects on my body and soul, and I didn’t know what to make of it. Part of me wanted to enjoy every second I had with him. But the fighter in me warned me of danger, much like Kalon had earlier. What a weird contradiction, since I was so determined to trust him.
“You’ll have to get something out of Ansel, though,” I reminded Kalon.
“I know. We’ll spend the night here. The Darklings are probably still out there looking for us. You should get some rest, and I’ll keep watch,” he replied, not budging from the window.
An evening with Kalon was something I had pictured before, just not in these circumstances. Not with Darklings out to cut our heads off. Not with his brother tied up in a room, a traitor to his family and the empire. And certainly not with Zoltan Shatal still loose and willing to kill anyone that stood in his way.
Nevertheless, an evening with Kalon was something I was now going to get, circumstances be damned.
Esme
I couldn’t sleep much, even though the bed in my allocated room was practically perfect. Simmon had put cotton sheets on every bed in the house, and I certainly reveled in their soft feel against my skin. But my eyes refused to shut, my mind wandering all over the place.
Next door, Ansel was quiet, tied to a chair and left to stew in his own juices. I wondered what his thoughts were about all this. Kalon was mad at him, and for good reason. But did Ansel feel any regret for what he’d done? Was he aware of what the Darklings were planning? For Pete’s sake, his “colleagues” were determined to kill Valaine. From what Kalon had told me, Ansel had had nothing but love and affection for Lady Crimson. It just didn’t make sense.
Downstairs, Kalon was alone. I thought about him a lot. About his hand on my face. His skin on mine. His eyes peering into my very soul whenever he looked at me. With all our back-and-forths, I still didn’t know where we stood with one another. Maybe that was the only thing that kept me from falling asleep. This idea of him finding his place in my life. Of me finding my place in his. We were linked on a deeper level, yet neither of us dared to explore that connection.
Blowing out a deep breath, I got out of bed and slipped into a fluffy robe hung on the door. It felt so nice to be out of my combat gear for a few hours. Leaving my room, I treaded carefully along the hallway. Stopping outside Ansel’s room, I turned the key and went in. Kalon had locked it from the outside, so Ansel wouldn’t try to get out. Ansel sat in his chair, hands still bound behind his back with steel-like cuffs, looking out the window.
There wasn’t much happening outside, other than the sky reflecting its shimmer onto the lake, and the woods rustling, brushed by the nightly winds. Everything else was silent and dark, with only a moonbeam cutting through Ansel’s room, drawing his shadow on the floor.
“I’d say I’m sorry things turned out this way,” I said. “But you brought this on yourself, Ansel.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“Your brother doesn’t deserve this. And I’m certain he would give his own life to protect you. You should cooperate and tell us everything you know before it’s too late. There is only so much Kalon will forgive.”
A smile tucked at the corner of his mouth. “You speak as though you know my brother.”
“I do. Well enough to understand what he’s going through.”
“You know nothing,” Ansel replied. “Get out.”
Maybe Kalon would make him talk, eventually. I was just a stranger, a friend of his brother’s, a foreigner who’d come to Visio without understanding what Visio was all about. I couldn’t exactly blame the boy for not wanting to talk to me.
I left Ansel behind and went downstairs. I found Kalon resting on a wide sofa. He’d made a fire, having blown all the other lights out. Moonlight flooded the lounge, casting its milky glow over the floor and the furniture, while darkness reigned supreme everywhere else. The windows were open, the breeze sweeping through and fanning the fireplace flames once in a while.
My heart thudded nervously, but I
kept moving.
I sat next to Kalon on the sofa. As I dipped into the soft cushion, he stirred and shot up into a seated position, blinking rapidly and utterly dazed. He’d fallen asleep, and I suddenly felt bad for waking him up.
“You were supposed to keep watch.” I giggled.
“I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed off.”
Kalon rubbed his face, then looked at me. His eyes were a dark and hazy blue in the fireplace light, taking in every line of my face. I felt as though I’d been placed under a microscope, small and defenseless and… yearning for his embrace. I understood then that I would not be able to get much sleep without Kalon by my side. The night was dark and filled with dangers. His presence gave me comfort.
“What are you doing up?” he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver through my back.
“I couldn’t sleep. I tried talking to your brother,” I said, and he stilled, watching me intently. “He said I don’t know you. Then he told me to get out.”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Kalon replied. “We’ll bring him back to my house in the city. I’ll keep him under arrest there, until I figure out what I’m going to do with him.”
“Corbin will likely want him arrested and executed,” I murmured.
Kalon looked away, swallowing. “We’ll see if it gets to that point.”
“Maybe Ansel can still be reformed.”
“He’s still in his idiot stage, for now.” He sighed. “I’ll have to lay out the details of what will happen to him if he doesn’t get his crap together. I won’t be able to protect him from Corbin for too long. Not in this hostile climate. Not when the Darklings are so desperate to kill Valaine.”
I took his hand in mine, mimicking his go-to gesture for offering a sense of comfort. “It’ll be okay. If Ansel has even one percent of your wits, he’ll realize that cooperation and reform are his only way forward.”
Kalon stared at me for a while, and time sort of… stopped.
A Shade of Vampire 80: A Veil of Dark Page 15