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Wicked Game

Page 6

by Susan Harris


  6

  Days passed again, although I wasn’t sure about the movement of time anymore for the days and nights seemed the same. I knew it was close to Christmas because I overheard the guards say the city streets were packed at night now due to late-night shopping, which made it easier to pluck a human out of the throng to snack on.

  It felt like it had been an age since Maxim had come to take me to Dresden, and the trepidation of not knowing when he would show up next frayed my nerves, already on a knife’s edge because I was starving. Maxim was withholding blood to weaken me, and with it being almost six weeks since I’d last fed, I was ready to launch myself at the nearest thing with blood in it.

  Every day, they dragged Edison out to feed him, sending him back smelling of blood to chip away at the restraint I had shown so far. Even now, as night fell, I sat on my hands far away from Edison as my fangs throbbed and the hunger burned in my throat.

  I snarled as the door to our cell opened and Cedric stepped inside with a cattle prod. He turned it on, trying to smile menacingly as I watched the pulse on his neck and wondered if he would taste as bitter as I expected.

  “Get up, St. Clair. It’s feeding time,” Cedric demanded.

  Edison flipped him off. “I’m good, thanks.”

  I growled, the sound more animal than usual as I snapped my gaze to Edison’s, chiding him from turning down a free meal. I knew he was doing it for me, whose nerves felt like they were being pricked over and over again with needles. My blood was so on fire that I was sweating like I was under the hottest sun. I dug my fingers into my palms, drawing my own blood and sending my mind over the edge.

  Before I could stop myself, I had Cedric on his back, my teeth snapping as Edison dragged me off the rogue, knowing I’d hate myself if I drank even a sip of his tainted blood. I sank my fangs down on Edison’s wrist, and the moment his blood splashed on my tongue I groaned, even as Edison yanked my head back.

  The I felt the sting of the cattle prod as Cedric struck me in the ribs with it. The shocks rippled through my body, and I collapsed on the ground, convulsing as the electricity burned inside me. I lay there panting, already trying to get to my feet so I could try to draw blood again.

  I knew it was wrong, I knew it was something few vampires liked to do outside of personal relationships, but I was desperate to make the pain go away, to stop the hurt and need. I staggered as dizziness hit me at the same time as Cedric hit me again with the prod.

  I must have blacked out, because when I woke, my wrists were restrained, and I was hoisted over the chestnut-haired vampire’s shoulder. I struggled a little and felt a sharp pressure on my ankle as the rogue muttered, “Stay still. If he thinks you’re out, then he’ll leave you alone.”

  I wasn’t sure why the rogue was helping me, or trying to stop me from being Cedric’s punching bag, but I did as he asked. It was hard, though, because every step they took was one step closer to where Dresden would invade my mind. I could smell my own fear, and I felt disgusted with myself.

  However, instead of taking me to the horribly clinical room, we strode into the room where Maxim had tried to woo me with dinner. The rogue carrying me carefully set me down on a seat, then shackled me to it before he rose. I gave him a small smile, and he glanced around the room.

  The next thing I knew, he was holding a cup to my lips and forcing me to drink. The human blood coursed into me, a mere taste of what I actually needed, but enough to take the edge off. The rogue snatched the cup back as the main doors swung open and Maxim came in. He glanced at the rogue and then me before marching forward and backhanding the guard.

  “I told you your bleeding heart would get you in trouble, Adam. Your inability to follow orders is astounding.”

  The rogue gritted his teeth before meeting Maxim’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  I did little to hide my surprise. Did Maxim make his rogues call him Father, or was Adam actually his son?

  Adam shrugged and averted his gaze. Frowning, Maxim turned his attention to me. He pulled out the chair closest to me and sat down, our knees touching. I hated that I couldn’t pull away.

  “Yes, Ryan, Adam is my son. But he is like any other soldier who must work their way from the ground up. Are you surprised that I have children?”

  “I’m surprised that you could find any vampire, rogue or royal, to warm your bed. I’m highly amused that you called your son Adam. Was that a little FU to Eve? Would it not be considered blasphemy to name your son Adam when you stand opposed to all that Eve created for us?”

  Adam chuckled softly, and I glanced toward him. “Be grateful you look nothing like him. Shit like that could get you killed.”

  It was the only thing I could offer him for his kindness, and Adam gave me a small smile in return as Maxim dismissed him. Maxim continued to watch me, resting his palms on my knees.

  “This whole situation is getting a little TV drama, Max. The kid is older than me, right? I mean, did you expect him to call me Mom? You have to know this is insane.”

  Maxim scoffed at my words. “It is not uncommon for a vampire to take a much younger mate in order to sire more children should a mating break or a death occur.”

  Swallowing hard, hunger building again in my throat, my hands balled into fists and I bit back a hiss.

  Maxim leaned forward, a sly grin on his face. “Would you offer yourself to me now, Ryan, if I told you I would bring you a human to feed on? If I promised not to let you drain them dry? Would you offer me a taste of those lips that so often spew words of sharpness and venom?”

  A slow, deliberate smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, the hunger screaming at me to say yes. Instead, I sneered at Maxim. “I would rather spend the next hundred days lost to the hunger than have you touch me. Even now, your hands on me make me want to vomit.”

  Without warning, I snapped my head forward, headbutting Maxim and knocking my chair over in the process. Trying to wriggle free was no use as I felt Maxim’s booted foot connect with my stomach. I gagged, and he wrapped his hands into my hair, his nails digging into my scalp as he dragged me upright.

  He was pissed, so I did what every sane person does when confronted by a rabid, pissed-off male. I smiled.

  Maxim roared and yanked my head to the side, giving me a mere second to comprehend what he intended to do before he sank his fangs into my neck. I hissed at the pain as his fangs pierced my skin, felt the tug of him swallowing my blood. This was far from the bliss vampires and humans felt during a feed; this was a show of dominance as my heart rate ricocheted and Maxim angled my head more to get better suction.

  For a moment, I feared he wouldn’t stop and I would die here, drained of blood, my corpse discarded for someone to find in days or weeks. Then Maxim yanked his mouth away from my flesh, a growl rumbling in his chest before he stormed from the room.

  Blood still seeped from my wound, and because I had no live blood in me, my natural vampire healing couldn’t kick in; it was already working overtime to try and keep me from turning rabid from hunger.

  The door swung open again with a crash as Maxim dragged Dresden in by the scruff of the neck. He jostled Dresden forward before storming up to me and yanking my neck to the side again.

  As he ran his tongue up the curve of my neck, I thought I was going to be sick.

  “You’ve been delaying for almost two weeks now,” he said, turning back to Dresden, “telling me you needed time to build up your power. I’m done waiting. Do what I want now, Dresden, or I will have Cedric hold you down while we burn your cap to ash. Will it hurt you, the flames, if the cap is tied to your power?”

  Dresden’s face remained impassive as he walked to where I sat. He dragged a chair across the floor, the wood scraping against the floor like nails on a chalkboard, and then sat directly in front of me. Dresden lifted his hands, curling all but two fingers on each hand to his palms as he reached toward my temple.

  “C’mon, Bob. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
r />   “Dresden,” Maxim barked, and the fae snapped his head around. “Remember what I want—the prince gone from her affections. Rip her mind apart until she no longer knows what is real and what is in her head. Take everything from her until she has nothing.”

  Dresden turned his head back to me, and for a splinter of a second, I could almost see regret in his eyes as he touched his fingers to my forehead.

  I quickly strode across the lobby and through the conservatory, pushing open the double doors and stepping out into the crisp night air. On most days, spending time in this garden would be a treat—the silence and serenity made it one of my favorite places, plus it was a space in which I’d spent time with my father. But now… now my father couldn’t even bear to look at me.

  Now, the tranquility was broken by the gathering of maybe a hundred vampires, some who had come from outpost missions for this yearly event. The murmur of voices cracked the peacefulness of the night. I stood rooted to the spot, my feet digging into the grass as I turned my head to look out at the lake, wanting to dive headfirst into the water just to get out of this fucking painful loop of misery.

  It was the exact same thing every year—rows and rows of seated vampires on either side of a pathway leading down to the lake. An entire congregation of vamps who’d lost loved ones in the event, all wanting to wallow in the sorrow they felt linked us all together. I was luckier than some who had lost everything, my parents proving to be the fiercest of warriors and saving the lives of the king and queen, while I would always be the one who’d failed.

  I was a disappointment in their eyes and always would be.

  Chairs to my right and chairs to my left. Lanterns illuminated the path to the dais from which the royal family would preside, where the queen would give her yearly speech, her own sadness so palpable that the little girl in me wanted to reach out to this woman who shared in my grief and cling to her as if a simple embrace could erase the weight in my chest.

  Gulping in a breath of air, I rolled my shoulders and strode forward, used to the pointed stares and whispers by now. I kept marching, one foot in front of the other, my eyes fixed forward until I found my chair, nodding briefly at my mother and father as I reluctantly took my seat beside them, tucking one ankle behind the other, hands folded neatly in my lap.

  One of the caretakers struck a match and ignited the firepit sitting in front of the lake. Orange flames roared to life, casting shadows against the water, and I felt the blazing heat ripple against my skin. My heart began to thunder in my ears as the side doors opened and we all stood in one fluid motion as the royal family stepped into the garden.

  This was the part that threatened to drag me under. Escorted by her husband, King Anatoly, Queen Katerina wore a skirt of crimson and a tailored jacket of the same color. If not for the crown of glistening, bloodred diamonds on her head, she would have looked like any other well-dressed businesswoman. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she lifted her eyes to scan the crowd, her smile darkening as they landed on me. I ducked my head, coward that I was.

  The crowd whispered as Crown Prince Kristoph strode into view wearing a crown that should have been his brother Nickolai’s, my best friend who’d died because I wasn’t strong enough to protect him. It was my fault that he was dead, my fault that Queen Katerina had lost he eldest son, and my fault that my parents hated me so.

  I closed my eyes as memories spilled though my mind of the night I’d lost everything.

  Chaos reigned outside the door of the prince’s playroom as my mother had rushed inside, crouching down to smooth back my hair, her face full of concern.

  “What is happening?” Prince Nickolai had asked in a small voice. “Are my parents okay?”

  My mother smiled over at the worried prince to reassure him. “We are doing all we can, Nickolai. Some very bad vampires want to hurt your parents, but I will not allow it.”

  My mother was a warrior, yet I had never seen her more afraid than she was in that moment. She ordered Nickolai to wake his brother and take him to one of the hiding places built into the walls—the ones to which, should the worst happen, we were trained to run. It seemed that time was now.

  Even as she placed a finger on my chin and lifted my gaze to hers, tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

  “Ryan, my beautiful, smart, headstrong daughter, just know your father and I love you.” Reaching down to her waist, she handed me one of her sai, keeping the other one close to her. “Take this and protect the princes. You do not hesitate, my girl. This is what you were born to do. You are destined to protect them.”

  My mother placed the sai into my palm, then curled my fingers around the hilt. I wanted to say something, I wanted to beg her to stay, to protect us and not the king, but I would never voice the words; my parents were born to protect the royal family from those who meant them harm. One day, I would do the same.

  My heart raced faster as a bloodcurdling scream came from just outside the door, and my mother shooed us into the small cupboard hidden within the walls. She ordered me to not come out until someone came for us, someone we knew. And to kill any who tried to harm the princes. With a final glance, she told me she loved me one more time and then slid the door back into place. Darkness flooded the cramped space.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed as Nickolai muttered comforting words to his brother while the screams and scent of blood intensified even in our hiding place.

  But I had to see what was going on. I needed to be out there protecting the royal family and not stuck inside some cupboard like a fool. I told Nickolai that I was going to check outside, and my best friend said he wanted to come with me.

  We slipped outside, locking a sleeping Kristoph inside, snuck to the doors of the playroom, and gently pried them open. I stole a peek outside, my eyes widening at all the dead vampires lying outside the door. The scent of blood was overwhelming.

  Nickolai picked up a sword that was far too big for him as we cautiously made our way down the hall. We slammed our backs against the wall as a rogue burst from the main ballroom. When his eyes landed on us, he smirked and yelled for his friends.

  I pushed Nickolai and screamed at him to run. The rogue lunged for Nickolai, but I slashed my sai across his wrist. I made to try and kill him when I heard Nickolai scream my name. Turning, I watched as a rogue hoisted my friend up and sank his fangs into Nickolai’s neck.

  I cried out, the scream ringing in my ears as my friend’s head dropped until I could no longer see the cerulean blue of his eyes. A battle cry rang out behind me as my mother threw a blade at the rogue, but the villain leapt through the window, taking Nickolai’s body with him.

  My eyes snapped open as my father nudged my shoulder, Tristan Callan looking at me with contempt as I noticed I had dug my nails into my palms.

  The ceremony was over quickly, the memorial party taking over, and my mother frowned when I asked should I leave now. She wanted me to linger, to see what my curiosity had brought on us. I had disgraced the Callan name, and my dream of being a royal guard, just like my mother, had been ripped from me.

  I swallowed hard as I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I glanced up at the crown prince. “My liege.”

  Kristoph smiled softly. “No need for formalities, Ryan. Not when we are soon to be wed.”

  7

  And that was what my legacy had gotten me—engaged to the crown prince who was not the prince I loved, in the hopes that the taint of my cowardice would not be passed down to my children. Although Queen Katerina had lowered the age at which a new monarch took the crown, there was still a good few months before Kristoph turned eighteen. It didn’t really matter what age I was as long as I was ready to sire the future of the royal family.

  I gave Kristoph a small smile. “I believe in giving my liege the respect which is his due. It seems odd to call you anything other than that. Forgive me.”

  Kristoph offered me his arm, and I took it, wondering what would have been different if Nickolai had live
d. I hadn’t even been able to stop the rogue from absconding with Nickolai’s body, giving the queen her son’s body to burn to ash and send back to the loving arms of Eve.

  I had done that. No one else.

  I let Kristoph lead me outside into the cold, crisp night air. He steered me toward a vampire I knew only too well, one that had been so gravely injured during the coup they’d been unable to save his arm.

  Jack O’Reilly sat by the lake’s edge; a half-empty bottle of whiskey loosely gripped in his right hand. The left one hung limp by his side. His ginger hair was unkempt, and I gave Kristoph a small smile in thanks as I dropped down to the ground next to Jack.

  My father had long since gotten sick of Jack’s behavior, dismissing his best friend like he had his own daughter. Yet Jack was one of the only friends I had who didn’t blame me for what had happened ten years ago and understood the pain I was in.

  After Nickolai died, my parents decided that I should not train anymore, yet I had done so in secret, by myself in the gym, since I was a pariah, and no one would spar with me. Jack had stumbled in one day when drunk, and once he saw me trying to wield a sword, he stalked out, returning with a substantial amount of coffee.

  Jack stayed sober as we trained in secret, but like me, when the demons of that night came back to haunt us, he slipped. Yet, I was always there to catch him when he fell.

  “Hey, old man.”

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  There was a sadness in his tone I felt in my bones, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. We simply let ourselves be in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the night, from the crickets chirping to the gentle ripples in the water.

  It was then I felt a prickle of awareness, and, my eyes scanning the darkness, my heart stopped dead when I caught a glimpse of red eyes in the distance.

  “Rogues,” I whispered as I darted to my feet, dragging Jack with me. I pulled a small dagger from my waistband and took off toward the house as an army of rogues emerged from the shadows, intent on slaying us all.

 

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