Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  “To which coven?”

  “Really, Elsie.” My mother’s voice was prim as she shook her head. Not a drop of blood had managed to mar the jade of her dress, and I knew she would have no plans to bathe this morning, not when she had pressing duties. “What is going on?” Her eyes flashed with irritation as she asked, “Were you taking Victor as your mate? Is that what happened?”

  My father let out a sharp snarl at the idea that Victor had made mating promises to me and then ran with Geraldine. I briefly considered lying, verifying that story. It would guarantee both of their deaths—my father would send someone after them immediately to take their heads. He would not see anyone embarrass his family name in that way. But as much as I didn’t want to share the information I had gathered, I knew it was necessary. The laws regarding pets were not my own, they had been enacted over a century ago by my ancestors. With so much purposeful flouting of law and tradition, I had to inform my parents.

  “Goodness, no,” I assured them, waiting for their fangs to recede before I continued. “I unearthed some information last night during a… session.” The colloquial phrase for torture hung in the air between us, making my parents stiffen once again. “The information was provided by more than one source, so I am confident in its accuracy,” I added. I would provide them with this information, but there was no need for them to know of Sebastian’s or the twins’ involvement. “Victor and Geraldine were named as part of a scheme that has been transpiring here among our walls for quite some time. The pair, among others whose names my prey did not know, have been working with the human servants to kill off pets.”

  “What?” my father roared, jumping to his feet, his fangs on full display. My mother’s green eyes were filled with fury, but she remained serene as she watched me. There was a reason my mother tended to be the more public face of the two. Her temper was far easier to hide, even if it was more deadly. My father dug his fingers into his hair, searching for control as he growled in a constant stream. “Explain,” he snapped at me, and I inclined my head in a regal nod.

  “Apparently Victor and Geraldine were paying the servants with favors and items if they murdered a pet. Most humans assumed that their masters or mistresses had gotten rid of them for being faulty, so no suspicion was aroused. They have targeted pets of both vampires and witches. It seems that in some instances, they may have then gone after said vampire or witch while they were weakened.” Although that part was pure conjecture, I would not be surprised if it was, in fact, the truth. “In other cases, it appears to have been done simply for fun. Certain human servants who performed the killing were then promised their own position as pets to vampires whom Victor or Geraldine favored once they provided the pieces of the pet to them.” I kept my voice even as I recited the facts, not willing to add to my father’s temper.

  “They’re with Hemlock,” my mother informed me, her hands folding delicately onto the table beside her meal.

  I nearly winced at that. Only years of training prevented the full expression from crossing my face, but my parents knew my tells.

  “Hemlock is involved.” It was my mother’s turn to hiss now, and it spoke of how deeply affected she was.

  “Their name was mentioned,” I admitted, unable to hide the truth. “I was told that it’s been going on for so long that the names of all those who hired the service have been forgotten, or that they have since been killed for other reasons. I took out a dozen human servants as part of this ring.” Well, Sebastian had, but what my parents didn’t know couldn’t cause problems for me later. “It is possible that this is only one faction however. It may be wise to encourage anyone with a pet to keep them close for both of their safety. My pet has already been ordered to stay within the confines of my room until I release him.”

  “Good, good.” My father lashed out, biting deep into his meal in a release of his aggression before he pulled away to meet my mother’s eyes, the pair holding a silent conversation.

  “I will send a few of those I trust to Hemlock to request Victor and Geraldine’s return without betraying my knowledge of this,” my mother declared. “In the meantime, we will make no sweeping announcement. Neither your father nor I have pets at the moment, and as you yourself are already on watch, it is of no consequence to the others. I will not betray the knowledge of this and risk those who have broken our laws to slip away once forewarned.” Their decision did not surprise me. With their own safety secured, they would trust that anyone else would take care of themselves, and that if they failed it was due to their own weakness.

  “Pets are just food, but the rules regarding how they may be executed and who makes that choice are clear. I will not have it flouted,” my father sputtered before settling himself back into his chair.

  “The idea of vampires making deals with humans.” My mother’s words dripped with scorn as she shuddered delicately.

  “I know, precious,” he murmured, stroking her cheek, his fury set aside as he focused his attention on his mate. “Come now. Finish your meal.” His eyes sought mine as a vicious smile curved his lips. “You did well, Elsie. We’ll find these traitors and make examples of them.” I knew a dismissal when I heard it and pushed to my feet.

  “No one makes a fool of a Crauford,” I murmured as I headed for the door. I heard my father echo the words behind me. We would find them, and I would make the remainder of their lives a nightmare for the ages.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sebastian

  Last night had been a mistake—an amazing one, but a mistake nonetheless. I could blame it on nearly dying, on the blood lust that always took precedence when I let my demons out to play, but the truth was I had wanted her, just as I had admitted when she was in my arms. I had craved to know what she felt like, what she tasted like. Maybe the logical side of me had hoped she would taste foul, that it would be easy to discard her. If that was the case, though, my argument had been blown to smithereens. She tasted like heaven and felt even better. Being inside her had been a transcendent experience, one my body was demanding an immediate repeat of.

  I had expected her to lash out at me, to fight me, when my dark side taunted her. Yet the threat of death had excited her rather than repulse her. Deep inside of me, my demon purred at the thought, enticed by the vampire who had no fear of him even as he plotted the best way to see her blood wash over him.

  It had become second nature to view myself and my monster as separate entities, though it wasn’t true. The mask I wore now was merely that—a false face that gave me the ability to sweep unseen into any hidey-hole and obtain the reward I desired. I had worn more false faces than I knew what to do with, each one relevant and real in the moment only to be discarded and forgotten when I was done with it. This had been the longest I had worn my mask, and although it was as easy as breathing, I had begun to wonder if it would cause a more lasting duality inside of me with the length I was forced to endure. Yet yesterday had been effortless when I let myself slip into who I truly was. Justice. Vengeance. The grim reaper. I let the small, dark smirk curl my lips here alone in Elsie’s rooms.

  She had left me to attend to her own work, and I was taking the time to carefully review the twins’ notes as I waited for them to arrive. Although they tended to appear after the traditional breakfast hour, I had no doubt they would be early today, and I wanted as much time with their work as I could get while I tried to piece it together. There were simply too many symbols I didn’t recognize, too many personalized markings that I couldn’t determine at a single glance, and that had my back up. I was a master at languages and codes. I wouldn’t let any best me.

  Wouldn’t Elsie be pleased if I could have this done before she returned? I pushed away the thought, hating the joy it produced. I wasn’t doing this for her. I was doing this for myself. For humans—for victims, I corrected. Elsie was nothing more than a distraction, a temporary inconvenience who I had to cater to before I found a way to end her. A deeply twisted part of me rebelled at the thought even
as I attempted to squash it out of existence. It liked being owned. Having a mistress. Another person’s darkness to play with. As dominant as my shadow was, it loved the fight Elsie promised, the idea that she might truly be able to bring us to heel, to become the true mistress to our twisted blade. Again and again, I attempted to burn out that line of thought. I would never belong to anyone, let alone a vampire. The odds of me finding a human woman who had this darkness inside of her were so far past laughable I couldn’t even begin to calculate the probabilities. Not that I expected all women to be meek and gentle spirits—far from it. But I wouldn’t allow her to go after those who were innocent.

  What makes you think Elsie goes after innocents? the monster in my mind whispered, the words as seductive as one of her kisses. I hesitated for a moment, considering that. Had I ever seen or heard of Elsie going after someone who was innocent? She was a vampire, I was sure she had to, and yet… She didn’t save the meals that were chosen for family dinners, but I didn’t either. She had been right on that account. I had stepped aside on more than one occasion, using my skills to slip away so the less aware, the more frightened, would be chosen in my stead. While I might not have truly been the cause of their deaths, I hadn’t been their salvation either. Could I expect Elsie to do what I wasn’t willing to and hold her to that standard? She’d shown that she didn’t prefer to drain her prey, and that was something I had heard gossip of before even being drawn into her service. It had been another part of my calculated risk in attempting to gain access to her rooms. If I had been noticed, and she had required me to be a food source—without making me a pet—in my service of her floor, I would have likely survived. It was one of the reasons the vampires whispered that she was mad, though the research she preferred had quite a bit to do with that theory as well. I couldn’t understand why the privileged parasites had such disregard for learning or the written word.

  Grabbing one of the books I intended to read through today, I forced the conflicting thoughts aside. It didn’t matter. She had bound me to her. Even though she had shown honor yesterday when she had taken the oath bond for me, had refused to turn me, I couldn’t let the fact that I was a pet slip from my mind. One act of honor, one step toward trust, didn’t change anything when I was a possession. She was protecting the investment she had made, not protecting who I was as a human. I could never forget that. Because when I found the answers I needed and forced her to break the pet bond, I would kill her. It was, after all, my duty.

  The knock on the door had me growling, but I quickly swallowed the sound even though I knew it wouldn’t penetrate the door. Elsie would have simply entered the room, so it was likely the twins had come to call. I opened the door for them, bowing slightly. “My mistress is away on duties this morning, but she bade me to welcome you to her chambers if you would like to study in her absence,” I murmured, my eyes on the floor.

  Draven snorted, drawing my gaze. His tongue toyed with the ring in his lip and his eyes flashed as he studied me. “Hello, Ash.” I stepped back, allowing the pair to enter, and sealed the door tightly behind them. “I’m surprised,” the man drawled, a small smile playing at his lips. “We had a bet as to whether we would find her dead body here when we arrived today.”

  I returned to my seat, pulling my book back in front of me. “I’m sure you are aware that a pet cannot bring harm to their master or mistress.”

  “Now, see, normally I would agree with that…” Draven’s amused voice washed over me as he leaned over my shoulder, inspecting the page I had been concentrating on. With my monster locked away, my body remained loose rather than coiled in anticipation of striking a blow. “But considering the fact that you are not like other pets, I’m not sure what rules apply to you.”

  “Vampire bonding magic is absolute,” I replied softly. I had briefly released my demon upon exiting these chambers once I had first been bound. I’d hoped it would be new enough that I could fight the link, but even then with just the most tenuous strands in place, I had been unable to dart inside and take my vengeance. I’d been physically unable to take the steps, knowing the result of those movements. I could plot ways to kill her, to maim her, to make her pay for ensnaring me, but I couldn’t act toward them in any fashion.

  “Loopholes,” Draven breathed into my ear, his mouth brushing against the shell before he pulled away with a chuckle and settled himself into his seat.

  “Did your mistress give you any orders in regard to helping with those translations we mentioned?” Crowe asked, completely ignoring the way his brother had been taunting me. I’d seen a hint of the anger inside him yesterday, but even in a literal torture chamber the witch had held back. He was a blood witch, so there was no doubt that pain and blood called to him. He wouldn’t have made it as high in the ranks as he had if it didn’t. Yet he had appeared bored. Unaffected by the mayhem around him.

  “I am to help with any translations you need,” I informed him, my voice calm. And I was to report any and all information I translated directly to Elsie, while mistranslating anything that might be harmful to a vampire. Her order had been succinct, simple in efficiency, highlighting her carefully analytical mind. While she knew it was unlikely I would be immediately directed to anything that could harm her, as it was my true goal, I had only a burning hope that they would discover what I had not yet been able to.

  At my words, Crowe waved a hand to his brother, and Draven dug a small journal out of the stack he had worked on the day before, passing it to me. The leather binding was worn with age, and any outer markings were completely washed away by hands and time. This book would have been around long before the plague, I realized, my hands itching to open it and dive in. Journals were of particular interest to me for my purposes. It was unlikely, although far from impossible, that something would have been printed in a more mainstream fashion if it was harmful to witches or vampires. But a journal? Someone’s personal notes? That had promise.

  Draven leaned forward when I cracked the binding open and traced my finger down the page, my brow knitting with concentration as I flipped through. The journal appeared to be written by the same hand all the way through, though the author had changed languages in several places and even potentially devolved into a code if my guess was correct. “How many languages do you know, Ash?”

  “Six.” If you didn’t count the codes I knew as languages, I qualified in my head, preventing the statement from reading as a lie. “My mistress knows five.”

  “Do you recognize this?” Crowe didn’t let his excitement seep into his words, but from the way his body shifted in the chair, it was clear to see. He didn’t have Draven’s tells—the lip ring, the knife flipping—but he had his own way of communicating his emotions with small movements and rapid shifts of tone that betrayed the usually cool man.

  “It’s a combination of many languages, actually,” I murmured almost to myself as I looked through the pages, turning them carefully to avoid damaging the fragile material. It was my turn to evaluate them as I questioned, “How many languages do you both speak?”

  “Three.” Their reply was in perfect unison, and I knew Elsie would have snorted had she been here.

  “Show me one of the passages you were interested in. It would take me time to translate the entire journal, and if you have a specific section in mind, I may be able to help more quickly.”

  I passed the priceless book back to him, allowing him to sort through in search of what he was looking for. “Have you realized that with our oath bond we could force Elsie to release you?” Crowe commented offhandedly, his eyes narrowing as he searched my face and body for any tells. He was out of luck. My mask had its own tells, and my demon was so deeply buried, silenced behind a mental wall of rock and iron, that he would not leak and betray my true interests.

  “I have. As it would not help you in any way, I cannot see why you would be interested,” I replied, not flinching from his assessment. “I have no more desire to be a pet to a witch than I do to a vampire, and
as that would be the only way you could offer me protection and prevent her from recreating the bond—or prevent me from being scooped up by someone else who may be a far worse master—I do not see what I would gain.”

  “Have you considered what we would gain?” Crowe steepled his fingers together, pressing them against his chin. “You speak many languages. You are intelligent. You have a flare for torture and pain. You know the intricacies of the witching world. You are attractive. While you may not wish to be a pet to a witch, it wouldn’t prevent the bond from being formed.”

  “It would not,” I agreed, knowing color flooded my cheeks in response to the compliments he had provided in a worthless attempt to flatter me into his confidence. “However, it is probable that the oath bond would be destroyed with that single request, and nothing would then prevent my mistress from forbidding you access to the books you need or even ejecting you from the citadel completely, hindering your own research to a point that would be unacceptable to you and making me nearly useless.”

  A small smile lightened the cold man’s face, and he leaned back in his chair to take me in. “Is it the darkness inside you that knows that, or the mask you wear?”

  There was no point in hiding the truth from him, not when he had already seen what I truly was underneath. “Both,” I answered easily, even as more color rushed to my cheeks.

  “You hide it well. I’ve only known one…” He trailed off, his lips pressing together as he focused on his brother. Interesting. He knew someone like me? My mind raced with that idea. Was it possible this was related to my witch heritage? Or had he known another human who hid madness inside of them? He hadn’t stated that he knew of someone who enacted justice, I reminded myself firmly, just that he knew someone who was a master of hiding behind a mask.