by C. D. Gorri
With a reluctant sigh, Caden slipped out from underneath me, Rafe’s heat disappeared, and then Markus ran a calming hand down my spine, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck before he slid into me, long, delicious, and slow.
Rafe moved to my mouth and licked it open while Caden held me open for Markus.
The sensation of us all connected, our blood communing, thrummed through me, and I knew I could never lose them.
Chapter Twelve
Contessa
I was deliciously sore the next morning when I found Silas—the traitor—asleep on the window seat.
I’d left behind hopeless Contessa from last night and replaced her with kick-ass Contessa, the female who would not go to her fate gracefully or quietly.
Last night, Silas said he’d been working for Viktor. I wanted to know why.
His eyes popped open the second I got close, even though I’d been quiet, my bare feet whispering across the thick rugs. He’d gotten big these past four years. His sleeves strained while he pushed himself into a sitting position, the damn thing dangerously tight across his chest.
I mean, I’d just had three men, all night long—what was I thinking?
This is Silas. That was what I was thinking. The one who got away.
“Why are you working for Viktor?” I stopped my impatiently tapping foot as he fixed his penetrating gaze on me. “You know you can’t kill him. His magic is too strong. Everyone knows that.”
“The mysterious everyone, huh?” The sun caught his eyes, turning them iridescent. His eyes didn’t glow, but they were beautiful just the same. “Did everyone tell you what Viktor’s greatest weakness is? Or do they only talk about the bastard like he’s some kind of god?”
“They talk about him like a god, of course.” I crossed my arms over my chest, because I didn’t know what else to do with them. “Given he can wipe an entire house out, he pretty much is. Or he can turn us into monsters, which is pretty damn godlike, if you ask me.” I shrugged. “That’s what everyone says, anyway.”
“Still a smart-ass,” Silas said, but there wasn’t an ounce of venom to it. “Glad to see you’re back, Contessa. I was a bit worried last night. I thought you’d turned into a wallflower.”
“Me? Never.” The laugh burst out of me, a little bit of normalcy in my screwed-up life. “I made a secret pact with myself last night. I will not go quietly. And if Viktor marks me, then I’ll mark him right back.”
Why was it so easy to slip back into my old self with Silas? Why couldn’t I hold on to my anger for more than a minute, when I’d done a fine job of holding on to it for four whole years?
“That’s my girl,” Silas murmured, turning his face to stare outside, as if debating how much to tell me. “But back to the subject of Viktor…”
He rose, towering over me, sucking up all the air in this small space. Then again, he’d always been big, and I was in bare feet.
“Viktor has a dirty little secret.” He tapped his chin. “Or should I say…Viktor is a dirty little secret.”
“We have a day, Silas,” I reminded him dryly. “Spit it out.”
“Let’s wait until… There you two are.” Silas looked over my head, a faint look of concentration tightening his face. “And Caden as well. Good, now I can get down to business.”
Markus slid his hands over my shoulders, tightening them before he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Good morning, love.” I laid my hand over his and leaned back against him, thanking the gods I had him by my side.
“Viktor cannot be killed,” Silas said. “But he can be dethroned, as it turns out.”
“We were planning on it, but now he’s got the Rivette fortune at his disposal,” Markus said bitterly, tensing up. “When he was scrambling for funds, we had an opportunity. With that huge influx of cash, we’ve lost our leverage.”
“I killed one of his revenants,” Silas said as if he were talking about roasting hot dogs, and we all shut up. “Not only did I kill it, I dissected it.”
“That’s just…” Rafael trailed off as Silas shot him a look. “Fine, who am I to judge? Carry on.”
“I used my magic to dissect how the creature was created, not like an actual dissection—which I agree, would be disgusting, not to mention immoral, since those things were one of us. Once.”
“What sort of magic do you have?” I was intensely curious about magic. I hadn’t gotten mine yet—perhaps I never would—but Silas had already been showing signs of magic before he left, even though he was a Vampire Made.
Markus could read minds, and Rafael emotions, and Caden… Well, the Gauthiers seemed to have an affinity for war and destruction, so he probably had chaos magic of some kind.
“Mine is divination, specifically, the ability to divine the origins of something.” Silas rubbed his arm, the tattoo peeking out from beneath his t-shirt. “I can tell you if something’s a year old, or ten thousand. I can tell you where someone was born.” His face clouded slightly. “Or where they will die.”
“The revenant?” Markus asked tersely.
“The revenant was old, an elder from the Old World. His name was Cedric, and he was Queen Lyra’s advisor. He’d been trapped in that form since the massacre, and after that long…” Silas shook his head sadly. “There wasn’t much of the male left.”
“And what did you discover?” Markus snapped, gripping my shoulders. “We have a day. One fucking day and we don’t have time to waste on elder vampires and revenants. We need a solid plan. We either get Tessa out of the country, or we kill Viktor. Those are our only two options.”
“I’m good with either of those,” Caden said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “But why kill the king, when there’s places on Earth that Viktor would never find?”
My heart sank, at the same time Markus cursed softly.
“I’ve tasted Viktor’s blood, remember?” I reminded everyone. “There will be no hiding from him. Besides, he’d just kill off Cormier House, one family at a time. I won’t cower and leave my family vulnerable.”
“The revenant’s blood gave up a secret. I discovered Viktor isn’t who he says he is. He’s a bastard, though I doubt Vane Carpathian knows his wife cheated on him.” A bitter smile creased Silas’s face. “But him being a bastard isn’t what’s going to save you, Tessa. Viktor Carpathian is a Vampire Made, not a Vampire Born.”
We were all shocked into silence.
In our world, there were strict rules about who could hold power. Among vampires, blood hierarchy was everything.
Viktor might as well be a frog. Or a rock. That was how little pureblooded vampires thought of made vampires. If Vane Carpathian knew… No, I dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He wouldn’t abide such a thing, even if it bought his house the throne.
Silas spoke into the silence. “Viktor has no right to the throne, because there’s no way around the oldest vampire law, Thou shall not crown those of mixed blood.”
“That law’s, like, a million years old,” Rafael pointed out. “No one believes in that racist bullshit anymore.”
“The Carpathians do. The old-school Gauthiers.” Silas nodded apologetically to Caden. “Still do. Most of the European clans follow that law to the letter. As a matter of fact, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone born outside of the nineteenth century who doesn’t believe it.”
“Outdated and archaic,” Rafael argued. He was like a dog with a bone when it came to equality and prejudice, and I loved him for it. “One of these days, we’ll change things.”
“But not today, and you should be glad for it.” Silas held out a hand to stop Rafe. “By law, we can have Viktor removed. By law, the Elder Council will demand he be removed.”
“Can we accomplish this in twenty-four hours?” Markus’s voice, and my own heart, exhibited the same kind of knee-wobbling hope. “Because that’s all Tessa has.”
“I made contact with the commander of the High Guard for Queen Olivia, in Bucharest. He will deliver the message to her, but yes, he expected h
er full support, should the accusations hold true.”
The oldest clan in the world. Having Olivia’s support would seal the deal.
Despite myself, I felt a huge surge of relief. This, I rationalized, could be a real reprieve.
“Other than this dead revenant, is there proof of Viktor’s bloodline?” Markus—the lawyer—asked, his tone briskly businesslike. “The old clans aren’t just going to take you at your word. They’ll demand to see the creature, run their own tests.” His hands slid off my shoulders.
“That could take weeks,” Silas pointed out. “Months, if Viktor’s good at covering his tracks.”
In the meantime, he’d ruin us.
“Maybe we don’t have to overthrow him today. Maybe we just have to distract him. Caden?”
Caden snapped to attention at Markus’s barked command. “What if we threatened to reveal his secret? The threat of being exposed…”
“Will get us all killed.” Silas finished Markus’s sentence with a growl. “Going head to head with the mad king is suicide. We destroy him from the inside. We get those in positions of power to remove Viktor from the throne.” Silas’s questioning gaze slid over to Caden.
“You are right—my father will not tolerate a Vampire Made as king,” Caden said slowly. “Nor will he take being duped for a hundred years lightly.”
“Would he back us up long enough for us to contact clans in the Old World?” Silas asked. “As Markus suggested, we will need solid proof. But would your father’s support tip the power our direction? Would he give us the leverage we need?”
Or would he kill us all to keep the status quo? From what I’d heard about Renard Gauthier, this could go either way.
“Perhaps,” Caden murmured. “The only way to know is to ask. Father’s been unhappy with Viktor for decades.” His gaze slid over to Rafael. “And as much as it pains me to say, his support of old-fashioned blood hierarchy will work in our favor.”
“We have vampire law working in our favor. Old-school thinking.” Markus’s voice was alight with hope. “If even a few of the Old World clans filed protests with the Council of Elders, that alone would give our claim credence.” He offered me a small smile, his first in days. “All we have to do at the moment is distract Viktor. Long enough he forgets all about you. After that…” His shrug seemed careless, but I knew him better than that. “After that, I hope he’s spiked to the palace wall.”
“I know the older clans hate Viktor,” I said, recalling gossip I’d heard over the years. “They’d jump at any chance to oust him.”
Caden pulled out his phone again. “I’ll get us into the palace. Convince my father to guarantee our safety.”
I couldn’t believe my freedom might be as close as a phone call.
Somehow, I’d imagined someone would have to die in order to get me out of this mess.
As for whether it would be me or Viktor?
I’d always given myself low odds.
Chapter Thirteen
Silas
I didn’t like the idea of Caden involving his father, but Markus was right. We had to get the support of someone powerful. Someone on the inside. Lord Gauthier’s involvement would make certain things easier, if we could trust him.
“My father promised to open the protective wards and allow us access to the palace,” Caden murmured, but even he looked at the phone like it might explode.
Watching Contessa’s face change—from absolute resignation to cautious hope—I knew all of this had been worth it. I’d spent months getting close enough to the prison guards to gain access to the dungeons. Another month to find out where they kept the revenants, and even longer before I was able to single one out, kill it, and use my magic to figure out Viktor’s secret.
Killing that revenant had been horrible. Pulling out its memories, garbled though they were, while it died, even more so.
And even though I swore there had been a tinge of acceptance and relief in the creature’s final seconds, the act had left a bad taste in my mouth.
But it had been worth it. I’d burn down the world for Contessa. I’d do anything to hear her laugh again. To know she was safe from monsters. Of all kinds.
Everyone headed upstairs to change, and I shrugged on my jacket and set my helmet on the table, then picked through what remained of last night’s meal, settling on some grapes and a wedge of dried cheese. I’d rather have my fangs in Contessa’s neck, with her beneath me, but maybe, if this all worked out… It could happen.
She was the first one downstairs, in yoga pants that showed her every curve, motorcycle boots, and a shiny leather jacket. “I’m riding with you,” she informed me, snagging a handful of grapes and my helmet off the table. “Come on, I want to talk.”
Just like that, I was following behind, painfully reminded of how things had always been between us. She’d been the confident little queen to my shy stable hand, or maybe kitchen boy, ordering me around mercilessly, while I was far too happy doing her bidding.
“Have you even ridden a bike before?” I asked, my eyes firmly on her ass. Jesus God, whoever made yoga pants should get some kind of reward. “I mean, you look like you’re heading to a rave.”
“I’m only riding, which I assume means hanging on to you for dear life while you do stupid things to make me scream.”
Yep, she pretty much had it down.
“Here, let me help you.” I fit the helmet to her head and tightened the strap, enjoying the feel of her body against mine.
“This is stupid. I can’t see anything,” she said. I flipped up the visor. “Oh, okay, that’s better.”
I threw my leg over the seat and motioned for her to get on while I gathered my hair into a bun. It was stupid, but I’d kept my hair long for four years. Maybe I’d even dreamed of Tessa running her fingers through it. I patted the seat behind me, knowing it would just piss her off.
“Hang on tight.” My wink got a snarl and a glare in return.
But Tessa climbed on and wiggled her butt into a comfortable position, and then she was pressed against me, from chest to crotch, while I imagined a thousand things I could do to her.
The Cormier mansion was only about thirty miles from the Darkfell palace, which was north of the human town of Raceland, on an uninhabitable swath of bayou covering about a thousand acres that had been designated a Wildlife Management Area.
Magic kept the palace and grounds hidden from prying human eyes; magic kept the king and his court safe from invasion from his own kind. The grounds were guarded by a ring of protective wards, a twenty-foot-high stone wall, topped with razor wire and cameras, and roaming revenants, which would be our greatest challenge.
After Tess retired last night, I’d had a chance to coordinate with Caden. He’d take out the revenants; I’d breach the wards.
Then we’d be inside.
Involving Renard Gauthier was chancy, but Caden had been adamant. His father was tired of Viktor’s bullshit. Tired of working for free. Ready for a change. I believed Caden. At least, I believed his unshakeable faith in his father.
As far as myself, I knew once the palace High Guard discovered Viktor was nothing more than a half-breed, they’d abandon him. The guard could be added to that list of vampires who wanted to keep the status quo.
Once they heard the truth, Viktor would have his two greatest crutches—military power and personal power—taken away, and he’d go down flailing. I couldn’t wait to watch.
I dipped the bike to navigate a sharp turn, and Tessa cursed into the back of my jacket, then hung on even tighter. I shouldn’t be this happy, not when we were heading to the palace, but I was.
Her warm body was smashed up against me, and I couldn’t remember feeling this free in a long, long time. “Do you want to go faster?” I yelled over my shoulder.
She squeezed my shoulder, and I sped up, grinning at her little scream, her arms tightening around my waist. My body locked up when she laid her cheek against my back, the scent of her arousal surrounding us befo
re I hit the gas again and the bike shot forward.
If this worked, and I prayed it would, the next time, we’d ride together just for the fun of it.
I replayed that fantasy several times, at least until the first palace markers came into sight. The twin gateposts, brick and stone, topped with cracked gargoyle finials marked the outer reaches of the king’s property. I shoved my daydreams away and got down to business, opening up the throttle and flying down the road at over a hundred.
By the time we reached the inner ring of stone wall, trepidation bled from Tessa.
She shouldn’t be here. But Tessa was wired differently than most. She’d never stay back and allow us to risk our lives for her. As for me, I was beyond worried. Viktor was as unpredictable as he was cruel, and even though we could ruin him, he wouldn’t back down without a fight.
Which was why I was banking on Renard’s support.
Anything short of that… Well, anything other than his full support and it would take a miracle to get us out of there alive.
Viktor might use his death magic on us, something I’d only heard stories about. Some said he made the revenants with this magic, could turn an otherwise healthy vampire into a drooling monster within a day. I had no wish to find out if this was true.
Caden’s father said revenants were roaming the grounds, and because it was morning, the king would have a light complement of High Guard surrounding him—ten at most.
If we could trust Renard.
We also agreed that should things go wrong, Markus and Rafael would get Tessa to safety, while Caden and I held off any attack. Even if there were revenants, I was confident we could buy them enough time to escape.
I parked the bike, held my hand out to Tessa, and helped her off. She yanked the helmet off, then swung her hair wildly around. “Ugh, that was awful. I felt like I was deep sea diving,” she complained, but her eyes were brighter than they’d been since I’d arrived.
“Safety first.” I set the helmet on the seat, leaving us staring at each other like love-starved teenagers.